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niningtori · 6 months ago

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for the hope of it all | part one

part two

pairing(s): choi beomgyu x you, choi soobin x you

summary: you've been in love with beomgyu since the first time you saw him, but he sees you as nothing more than a good friend and faithful wingwoman. when he asks you to help him catch another girl, who just so happens to be one of your closest friends, things get complicated.

genre: ANGST, melodrama, romance, smut (mdni)

warnings: super rushed to meet a deadline, not proofread, smut (mdni), beomgyu is a fucking asshole, manipulative!gyu, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering (vaginal), dirty talk, praise, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 7.2k

notes: whew... i couldn't just post a fic based on a song called AUGUST after august ends (even tho there's only a few minutes left where i am idccc) anyway this isn't the best thing in the world but i still ask that u all don't be mean to me <3 feedback is appreciated n loved as well :)

beomgyu really likes her — like, really— and who can blame him? you certainly can’t. chaewon is a lovely, lovely girl, so it should come as no surprise when beomgyu asks you to, in his words, help him bag her. you’re not one with a particularly strong character at the best of times, so when he practically begs you to convince one of your closest friends that he’s actually not the heartbreaking manwhore he definitely is, you can’t find it in yourself to say no.

it doesn't help that he has enough charisma to charm even the most indifferent target he sets his eyes on, it doesn't help that he's so handsome it makes everyone either want him or want to be him, and it most certainly doesn't help that you've been in love with the boy for the entire time that you've known him. him asking absolutely anything of you would result in you relenting, so when he asks for something as seemingly inconsequential as setting him up with a mutual friend, accepting it is a matter of course. does it hurt your heart to see him pining after someone else when you basically consider him as your soulmate? of course. but his happiness means more to you than your own. if she makes him happy, then so be it.

that's what you tell yourself, at least.

beomgyu doesn’t know that you love him — he can’t possibly know — or else he’d treat you differently, right? you don’t want that. you don’t want anything to change, at least not in the disastrous way you anticipate confessing your love to him would go, so you’ve kept your feelings close to your chest to keep him from suspecting anything. you think you’ve gotten pretty good at concealing your feelings. for example, you laugh when he tells you about his sexual escapades, and you don’t hesitate to give him advice on how to woo the girls who are wary of his lasciviousness. you only want to show him the good parts of you, carefully tucking any ugly seeds of jealousy or sadness away from his prying eyes.

the thing is, though, beomgyu is not stupid; and to your never-ending misery, you are not the greatest actress. he can see the crestfallen look on your face for the split second before you can contort your features into a smile. he can hear the tremble in your voice as you force out a laugh. with his godforsaken intuition, he can sense the hesitation in your movement when you playfully push him aside as he over-dramatically recounts his latest raunchy fuck.

all of this has no discernible consequence, though. if anything, your feelings have been his faithful friend and ally when it comes to conspiring with you to land whatever girl piques his interest at the moment. you may not be a prospective partner, but you are a great wingwoman, he’ll give you that much. and that’s exactly what he needs when dealing with chaewon, who has proven to be a particularly tough nut to crack. he doesn’t usually go for people he would consider friends, if only because he doesn’t like dealing with the messy aftermath, but her refusal to look his way is just too entertaining. he has no earthly idea why this cat and mouse game intrigues him the way it does, but he’s hooked like none other, especially because her reasons for pulling away when she’s definitely as attracted to him as he is to her are unclear. maybe she just doesn’t want to seem easy? whatever it is, he likes it. he likes her.

“so what's the plan?” soobin asks.

“what do you mean?” you blink as you turn towards him, effectively taken out of your daze. you've been staring at a new instagram picture of beomgyu for at least ten minutes now. there's not much going on in it — it's just a candid taehyun took of him — but you can't stop the yearning you feel in your heart as you wish you had been the one to take it, instead.

“i mean, what's your big plan to ‘help’ him this time?” there’s a trace of resentment in his tone as he puts air quotes around “help”. you know he thinks you're just wasting your time on a boy who will never feel the same way you do, but what can you do? you still love him.

“i’m… i’m just going to talk him up to chae, no big deal,” you say rather unconvincingly, because it is a big deal. it’s the biggest deal in the world to you.

“and what are you gonna say? ‘hey, i know you know beomgyu is garbage, but deep down, he’s actually not garbage even though, even deeper down, he really is?’” his words are sarcastic and, for lack of a better term, downright hateful.

“he’s not garbage, binnie,” you chastise. “he’s actually really sweet once you get to know him.”

“sweet? sweet how, exactly?” he sneers. you just sigh and shake your head. beomgyu is a frequent point of contention in your friendship with soobin, but you don’t know how to overcome it. mostly, arguments surrounding him devolve into conversations like the one you’re having right now.

“he puts on a tough act, but he’s not really like that on the inside,” you insist. “you just don’t know him like i do.”

“and thank god for that,” he snorts, and you frown. you can tell he feels guilty by the way his expression immediately softens.

“hey, i’m sorry,” he says, tucking your hair behind your ear. “i just don’t like to see you hurting.”

“i’m not hurting,” you lie. “i’m totally fine. it’s just… i just want to see him happy.” you actually do mean that last part. beomgyu, though seemingly carefree, is actually a lot more insecure and sensitive than one might think. you know this because he’s shown you that side of him many, many times, which must mean that he trusts you like no one else. you are honored to be the one he feels comfortable with, and even if it never amounts to anything more than that, you’re thankful you get to see how he really is.

“and you think being with a new girl every week will make him happy?” he softly asks, no edge to his voice, but his words hurt even more than they did before.

“it's different this time, binnie. i'm serious. i've never seen him like this before. i think he really likes her.” and the words almost kill you to say, but you mean them, anyway.

“okay,” he relents. “just do what you want to do. i’ll be there for you no matter what.”

“thank you,” you reply with a small smile, before putting your nose back into your phone and staring at beomgyu’s pictures again. you don’t catch it, but soobin sighs as he watches you.

you’ve been trying really, really hard. usually, all you have to do is talk about good points about beomgyu, and women fall for it hook, line, and sinker. chaewon is not most women, though, and she makes that abundantly clear with the polite smiles and airy laughs she gives you when you try to bring up beomgyu.

you don't get it. if you had beomgyu’s attention, you’d never let it go, so it makes no sense to you how someone could have it without taking the opportunity to seize it. if it were you, you’d seize it. if it were you, you'd tell him you’ve loved him since the first time you saw him. if it were you — well, it doesn't really matter, does it? because it isn't you. still, you can’t help but dream.

the sentiment that it will never be you becomes clearer and clearer as you watch beomgyu try to initiate conversation with chaewon at his very own house party you are currently attending. you watch from the sidelines as they sit uncomfortably close together, legs flush against one another, as beomgyu wraps his arm around her shoulder and pulls her in to whisper in her ear. you like to think you’re content with him being with her even if it means you’ll be without him, but it’s difficult to feel that way when you actually see it playing out before you. your heart feels like stone weighing heavily in your chest as she giggles at whatever he says, and you think that things might start looking up for him before her smile suddenly melts into a little frown.

without warning, she pries his arm off of her and gives him a perfunctory smile before standing up and smoothing out her skirt. then, she grabs her drink from the coffee table and he's left alone. his previously delighted expression is now filled with irritation and disappointment. you're still staring at him, just trying to get a read on the situation as you're left reeling, and before you know it, he's looking up at you. you're a little embarrassed at being caught, but you realize you can play your intrigue off as objectively analyzing the situation in order to help him better. surely he’ll fall for that, right? every time you say something similar, he buys it with no further questions.

he makes eye contact with you then nods towards his room as a silent plea to talk to him in private. if someone were to ask you how you’re able to deduce all of that from one look alone, you’d probably say it’s because you know beomgyu like the back of your hand — and maybe you do, but it’s like a subconsciously trained reaction more than anything. just as you know what beomgyu will do next, he knows you’ll understand his seemingly innocuous gestures.

you head up the stairs and beomgyu shuts his bedroom door behind you. you prepare to launch into your readymade explanation as to why you were rubbernecking earlier, but he speaks before you can say anything at all.

“why isn’t it working?” he huffs. “did you talk to her like i asked you to?”

“yes, of course i did!” you eagerly insist. you would never lie to beomgyu — well, not about this, at least. your secret feelings are another story.

“then why does she keep rejecting me?” he huffs. you wish you could answer him. truly, you do. you scramble for the right words, but you sincerely can't wrap your head around her logic, or lack thereof.

he’s still waiting for an answer, though, so you think back to the recent conversations you’ve had with soobin, and you realize there’s only one plausible conclusion.

“she just doesn’t know you enough, beoms. if she knew how you really are and how much you like her, she wouldn't act this way; but honestly, she probably thinks you’re just messing with her,” you explain, and you hope beyond hope that he doesn’t take it the wrong way. you don’t want to hurt his feelings by suggesting that his (newly) former playboy ways could be ruining his chances with her.

beomgyu’s feelings, of course, are not hurt. in fact, he just feels more annoyed than anything else. it’s really fucking irritating how he can’t seem to get a read on her or her intentions. she likes him, he can definitely tell, so what’s the problem with him having a messy past? it’s clear that it doesn’t bother you. well, it does, but in a different way. you’d forgive his previous transgressions in a heartbeat if it meant that he’d look your way, so why can’t she be the same? but then, he supposes that comparing someone as lovesick as you are to a normal girl is a bit unfair.

but why are you so lovesick? it’s obvious that he’s handsome and funny, so falling for him is only natural, but your devotion is on another level. not only that, but you’re devoted in spite of the fact that he clearly wants nothing to do with you. in all honesty, it’s almost like you love him even more when you see him chasing after somebody else... then suddenly, the solution is clear. he has to make her think he doesn’t want her; and the easiest way to do that is to pretend he’s interested in someone else. in the same vein, who better else to pretend with than one of chaewon’s closest friends? you’re absolutely perfect for the job.

beomgyu’s demeanor goes from irritated to self-satisfied, and it puzzles you to no end. maybe he figured out a way to show his true feelings for her? but then why is he looking at you with such intensity? he’s never looked at you this way in the many years that you’ve known him. wait, did he realize something? please, god, don’t let that be the case. you really don’t think you can —

and your train of thought is stopped when beomgyu strides over to you and locks the door behind you. you look up at him with confusion in your eyes before you finally register what that intense gaze of his really is: predatory.

suddenly, his lips are on yours and you’re holding back a squeal. your eyes widen as he cups his big hands around your cheeks and pulls you in even closer. he tastes like alcohol, which is to be expected, but there's a certain uniqueness to his taste that you can't really put into words; and you’re able to taste it even more as his tongue enters your mouth. you groan at the action, and surprisingly, he does, too.

you always assumed kissing beomgyu would make you feel like everything was finally right in the world, and it does — it really, sincerely does — but there’s also a certain spark you were not anticipating. something a lot more fiery, and it shoots straight to your core as your tongues tangle together lasciviously. beomgyu seems to know this, and he smirks into the kiss before trailing his warm mouth down your neck. you gasp at the sensation, which just makes him laugh.

his hands have traveled from your cheeks to your chest, one staying there to grab at your tits while the other one carelessly finds its way up your skirt.

“so wet,” he whispers in awe when he rubs his fingers against your soaked panties. “is this all because of me?” you feel your cheeks warm and you’re stammering out your next words.

“w-well, i —”

“is this all because of me?” he repeats, and you give him a feeble nod before covering your face in shame.

“cute,” he snickers, and your previously warm cheeks are now scorching to the touch.

he moves your panties to the side and rubs against your sensitive clit, which sends pulsations through your entire body, but that’s nothing in comparison to how you feel when he presses a finger into your dripping hole.

“you’re so tight,” he whispers, lust clearly written all over his face at the prospect of being in your pussy relatively soon; but he wants to enjoy this, he wants to enjoy the way your face screws up as he presses his finger so deep, he’s hitting places previously untouched. he slowly pulls it out, grazing your most sensitive spot with ease before adding another digit in, making you almost groan from the stretch. you bite your lip to avoid making such a sound, but beomgyu pays your attempted discretion no mind as he starts to hammer his fingers into you at a brutal pace.

it doesn’t take long for you to come undone around his skilled fingers, and once you’re done pulsating around him, he takes them out for a taste.

“so good,” he remarks, and though your breathing is heavy and your eyes are hazy, you still have it in you to feel embarrassed. he takes your smaller hand in his and leads you to his messy bed, carelessly sweeping every loose item — a t-shirt here, an old cd there — off of it in one go. he lays you down and hungrily licks his lips once he strips you down until you’re fully unclothed.

you’re feeling extremely small in this moment. you know beomgyu has had his pick of the litter when it comes to women, so you can’t help but wonder how you fare in comparison to the literal bombshells he’s been known to take home. mostly, though, you wonder how you compare to chaewon, as awful as that sounds. if you really think about it, there’s no comparison to be made, really. she’s her, and you’re you. what else is there to say, honestly? still, you’re comforted by the thought that you are the one underneath him right now, not her, and he does not seem disappointed in the slightest if the tent in his jeans means anything at all.

before you can think too much about it, he’s practically tearing his shirt off and you can’t help but stare. his torso is lean and a little paler than the rest of him, probably due to the lack of sun. objectively speaking, he’s no greek god or anything similar, but to you, he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. if he notices your awed reaction, he doesn’t say anything or really care, because he is simply too busy studying how perfect you seem to look under his dimmed lights. again, he is delighted at the prospect of being inside of you very soon.

he unzips his jeans and slides them, along with his boxers, off of his slim thighs and you can finally see him completely. his cock is a red so deep it’s nearly purple, with evidence of his lust leaking out of its flared tip. you’ve heard a lot about beomgyu’s physique from stories, his and his hookups’ alike, but nothing prepared you for the real thing. you’re not a virgin or anything, but you’re still unsure of how you’re meant to fit him inside of you. and you have no idea how you’re supposed to approach the subject.

beomgyu does not seem to understand your internal battle, though, because he wastes no time in lining himself up with your entrance. before he pushes in, though, he drags his cock along your soaking wet seam just to coat himself in your slick. when he feels he can’t take any more of his own teasing, he begins to push in.

“j-jesus christ!” he exclaims as he tries to push his tip through your entrance. “are you a virgin or some shit?”

“nngh — n-no! i-i’m not. i’ve — mmh — i’ve had boyfriends before,” you say as best as you can while dealing with the feeling of him literally fucking you open. you’re worried he’s not enjoying himself in light of his outburst and his decidedly strained expression.

“god, s-so tight,” he drawls. “feels so goddamn good.” he draws his hips back before pushing in again, further this time, and his words of praise seem to comfort you somehow, because he’s able to sheathe himself completely in you.

he groans when he feels your gummy walls wildly contracting around him — unsure of what to do with the pleasurable intrusion and working tirelessly to simultaneously push him out and pull him in. you, on the other hand, feel nothing but full. you’re so full you ache, so after a few moments of adjusting, your watery eyes are filled with an insatiable sense of pleading.

“you okay?” he asks, actually somewhat sweetly.

“y-yes — ah — i just feel w-weird,” you say. “feel so — fuck — full.” your seemingly innocent words drive him to the brink of insanity, so with reddened eyes, he grabs your hips so hard, you know he’ll leave marks in his wake, and without warning he begins drilling into you.

his thrusts are not calculated or intentional in any sense — they’re rough and fast and show his desperation. why he’s so desperate, he has no idea. beomgyu is sleazy even on a good day, so women come a dime a dozen, but he feels an unquenchable need he feels will only be satisfied if he continues to fuck you like a man gone mad. so he does.

your breasts bounce with every thrust and while he wants to grab one, his thirst only makes him want to go even deeper in you, so he employs his hands to manhandling you into a mating press. the new position has him going even deeper, and you can feel him hitting your cervix with each nasty snap of his hips. tears at the sheer feeling of being overwhelmed spring in your eyes and you have to clamp your hand over your lips to keep from crying out.

“let me hear you,” he pleads while gently moving your hand from your mouth and not-so-gently fucking you like a breeding whore, and he’s not sure if he’s saying it because he wants to make sure chaewon hears or just because he desperately wants to hear you for himself.

“fuck!” you exclaim, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. “s-so big!”

“oh, sweetheart,” he rambles, “who were you fucking before? they didn’t deserve this tight little pussy. they didn’t fuck you like you deserve to be fucked — like a good little whore.”

“‘m n-not a whore,” you tearily insist, somehow convinced that he means his words. you’re not completely inexperienced, but you’re not a whore, right?

but your innocence only makes him wanna ruin you more, claim you completely.

“you’re taking cock so well, but you wanna tell me you’re not a whore?” he snickers meanly, and you feel so delirious, you find yourself agreeing with what he says.

the lewd sounds of skin meeting skin and the sharp knocking of the headboard fill the room, and the heat you feel building up inside of you has you seeing stars. beomgyu pulls you in for a sloppy, wet kiss as he finally lets one of your legs down in order to snake his hand against your clit, which he languidly rolls in the midst of his pistoning in and out of you.

“are you gonna come for me?” he asks as his lips part from yours. “are you gonna come all over my cock?”

“y-yes, please,” you sob. “wanna come!”

“then do it, baby. let go for me,” and with the way he’s rolling your clit while fucking into you, you can’t help but comply.

he hisses when he feels you contracting around him, tightening up even more than before and pulling him in impossibly deeper. that’s all it takes, really, before he comes undone himself and sprays his thick, hot load into your spasming pussy.

he collapses on top of you, and both of you take a few moments just to catch your breath before he pulls out of you with a wince. he’s absolutely enthralled by the way the mix of both of you two’s cum leaks out of you as soon as he does so. he’s almost tempted to swirl it back in and plug you up, but his rational side stops him before he can do anything he’ll regret.

“are you on the pill?” he asks, and you nod.

“good, go ahead and get a plan b, too. just in case,” he says with a quick kiss to your forehead, and you nod with a delirious smile even in spite of his pedantic words. you’re just so happy you got to sleep with him, be closer to him.

“oh, i almost forgot to actually tell you,” he laughs. “i think fucking you will make chaewon jealous. i think we put on a pretty good show tonight, don’t you?”

and your heart and your hope and your dignity shatter like nothing else.

“y-yeah,” you try to reply with a laugh, but it sounds more forced than anything else you’ve ever heard in your life. “it was a really good show.”

“you slept with him?!” soobin asks, and he seems beyond frustrated. if you had the guts to look him in his eyes, though, you’d notice just how much hurt is in them.

“y-yeah…” you mumble, face downcast.

“why? why would you do that? you’re just going to be even more hurt!” he exclaims, and you shrink into yourself even more, not out of fear, but out of pure shame.

“i don’t know! it all just happened so fast, a-and i, i don’t know, i just couldn’t stop myself,” is all you manage to say. soobin groans at your words.

“you do realize that getting over him is going to be even harder for you now, right?” he asks, and you finally look up at him for a second before looking back down and nodding, and it’s almost like you’re a child who got caught doing something they knew was wrong.

“i know, and i’m sorry,” you mutter, still struggling to make eye contact, but soobin catches your timidity and his gaze is softened as he pulls your face up to look at him.

“you don’t have to apologize to me,” he sighs. “i’m just worried about you, you know?”

“i know, i know. but i’m still really sorry.” and you don’t have to elaborate on why that is because you both know that he’ll be the one helping you pick up the pieces when this situation inevitably breaks your heart even more than it’s already broken, if that’s even possible.

“it’s alright,” he says, pulling you in for a hug that’s so warm and kind you almost burst into tears. “you’ll be alright. i’m here.”

this is a bad idea. soobin would yell at you if you told him what you’re up to, but you don’t want to think about that right now. all you want to think about is how much better you’ll feel after you get your secret feelings off of your chest. up until now, the fear of rejection has made you too afraid to tell beomgyu how you really feel, but things can’t get much worse than they are at present, can they? it’s only been a few days since your hookup with beomgyu, but your love is eating you alive and you doubt that you’ll be able to hold it in for much longer.

things will probably go badly, and he’ll probably be completely blindsided, but the thought of continuing to lie to beomgyu’s face hurts more than anything else ever could. even more than the pain you feel every day that he unconsciously hurts your feelings. maybe this will ruin your friendship, but you love beomgyu, and he loves you, even if it’s not in the way that you want. all you can do is hope that your friendship is strong enough to overcome this.

with that mindset, you find yourself at his doorstep on this particularly cool summer night. you know he’s home because you can hear the faint sounds of whatever movie he’s watching emanating from his door. before you can lose your nerve, you begin to rapidly knock. before long, you hear the shuffling of feet nearing you, and you almost bolt then and there, but he’s quick to open the door when he realizes it’s just you.

“what are you doing here?” he asks, agitation apparent. oh god, were you interrupting something? what if he was working? what if he was sleeping? you should've texted before just showing up unannounced.

“i-i’m sorry, are you busy?” you ask sheepishly.

“... no,” he says after a slight pause, and he opens the door to let you in. you sit yourself on his couch, posture ramrod straight due to how fucking uncomfortable you are, and you try to steady your breathing as you fiddle with your fingers.

“is this about chaewon?” he asks, breaking the silence, and your heart aches at the trace of hope in his words.

“n-no, nothing like that. i just —”

“is there any update on that?” he cuts in before you can even get your words out.

“oh, um, not really,” you reply before remembering that something has happened, but you’ve been so out of it, it genuinely didn't occur to you to tell him. “wait, actually, she mentioned that you seem different lately, but she, uh, she’s still… well, to be honest, she’s —”

“what? she’s still what?” and there’s no patience for your rambling to be seen.

“she’s still not interested in dating you,” you mumble, unable to look him in the eyes when you say it. he’s completely silent after your words, and when you do finally gather enough guts to actually look at him, you really, really wish you had just kept your face down. because he’s pissed.

“are you fucking with me? she really said that?” he asks, and you nod.

“why didn’t you tell me earlier?!” and you feel so disoriented at the way things are unfolding that you can barely croak out a reply.

“i-i forgot.”

“you forgot? jesus christ, if it’s not about her, then why are you here?” he seems angrier than you’ve ever seen him, but his words get you to finally remember what you’re here for.

“i just… i needed to talk to you,” you say pleadingly, looking into his eyes as you try your hardest to give yourself the strength to be honest with him.

“about?”

it takes all of the courage in your poor little heart to choke out your next words.

“beomgyu, you know, for the longest time, i’ve —”

“i know,” he impatiently snaps. you’re unsure of what he’s referencing, but you do know he has no idea about the feelings you’ve kept hidden for so long.

“no. no, you don’t know, actually,” you argue, brave face on, but voice shakier than a leaf. “i just need to tell you that i —”

“that you love me? i know, that’s what i just fucking said,” he sighs irritatedly. “why else would you help me? ‘cause you love me so much, right?” he knows it’s wrong to take his frustration out on you, but you’re so pathetic, you make it too damn easy. you’re the perfect outlet for him to unleash all of his anger.

“you… you knew? this entire time?” you ask incredulously. you feel like you’re suffocating in the face of his callousness and disgust, and the room feels smaller than it did before.

“i mean, yeah. it was kind of obvious,” he muses. your cheeks feel so hot you’re sure you’re on the brink of immolation. it was obvious? if it was obvious, then why did he keep you around in the first place? because you’re useful when it comes to helping him get his dick wet?

“so… so why did you…” you trail off, still finding it inconceivable that the beomgyu you know and love could possibly know about your feelings; and not only are they unreciprocated by him, which you could understand and respect, but they’re nothing more than a fucking joke and means to an end. the end in question being burying himself into other women.

“why did i act like i didn’t know? because i don't feel the same way,” he answers, and you already knew it and knew it well, but that doesn't make it any more digestible to hear.

“y-yeah, but you — how could you still sleep with me? how could you do that to me?” you ask, lips wobbling and voice cracking. you can't believe this. you won't believe this. you have to be misunderstanding something somewhere. there's just no way this is it.

“because it was easy,” he says with a shrug, and your heart shatters into a million pieces.

because it was easy.

easy. what a funny word. you don’t think you even fully comprehend what it means in this context, actually. easy, easy, easy, but what part of this has been easy for you? every day, it’s like you’re killing yourself by trying to twist into what he wants you to be. a friend, a confidant, and now, even a lover. but lover is being too generous, isn't it? because he does not love you, not even as a friend, and this discovery becomes clearer and clearer as you think back to every time he’s shown you just how little he cares.

soobin’s litany of warnings come back to haunt you with a vengeance.

he’s just using you.

he’s garbage.

he’s just gonna hurt you.

and though you know soobin will take no pleasure in being correct, you can't help but dread the “i told you so” you know he will never be mean enough to say, but will inevitably think.

“i thought we were friends,” you say incredulously, dread and anxiety pooling in the deepest recesses of your heart. “i thought you cared about me”

and he doesn’t shrug or anything because he doesn’t really need to, but he might as well seeing as how it clearly makes no difference to him. and this is finally how you come to understand that beomgyu is just as bad as everyone says. maybe even a little worse. and he will continue to act like a sociopath for as long as you let him.

“i-i love you, i really do. but no fucking way. i won’t sit here and let you treat me like shit,” you declare, tears flowing down your cheeks so quickly and steadily you’d probably be unable to wipe them away even if you tried. luckily or unluckily, you don’t even have the strength to find out.

“you’re going to regret this,” you whisper, and it’s said with such certainty that for a moment, he almost believes you. almost, but not quite.

either way, you’re booking it out of his door before he can even reply.

this is everything beomgyu ever could’ve asked for. chaewon is sitting next to him on his bed, eyes dark with lust as she unceremoniously grabs the end of her top and tugs it off. she's beautiful, no doubt about that, but he feels more and more like something is incredibly wrong.

she leans in to press her lips onto his, but he flinches, scooting almost imperceptibly further away from her on the bed. she falters for a moment before sighing and crawling on all fours to situate herself between his legs. she begins to unzip his pants and tug on his waistband before he frantically stops her.

“w-what are you doing?” he asks, voice shaking.

“blowing you, what does it look like i’m doing?” she replies with a roll of her eyes. “i just wish i had known you wouldn’t be into kissing or, like, actual foreplay, but whatever.” she continues her movement to pull his pants down before he stops her again.

“what’s wrong?” she asks curiously, before finally realizing that he is, to what would normally be his eternal shame, completely soft. her mouth drops in shock, and in another universe, beomgyu has enough energy to care. but not in this one. in this one, his eyes are teary as he feels an implacable sense of dread he can’t seem to shake off.

“oh god,” she says with conviction, pulling herself back up and running one hand through her hair. “i knew this would happen.”

beomgyu, on his part, looks somewhat out of it, but her words bring him back to earth.

“knew what would happen?” he asks tentatively, sniffling for reasons unknown to him while he tries not to let his tears run over his waterlines.

“i knew you’d act like this because of her,” she says begrudgingly.

his eyebrows furrow for a second, not because he doesn’t already know who she’s talking about, but because he doesn’t understand the correlation between you and the situation he presently finds himself in.

“think about it,” she says slowly, condescendingly. “who do you trust, like, actually? and i’m not just talking about with getting girls, but with everything.” beomgyu is silent as he tries to comprehend what she's saying, but he’s nothing if not slow on the uptake in regards to human emotion.

“oh, beomgyu, come the fuck on,” she sighs in frustration. “i mean, when you were stressed about that presentation for your job, who did you call? yunjin told me all about it. she said you spent hours reciting a 15 minute presentation to the girl you supposedly don’t give a fuck about.” ah. he remembers that night, actually, and he remembers it well. he called you in a panic, so you brought over some dinner because you knew he was stressed, but he was so wound up that you didn’t leave and even insisted that he practice with you in order to give him feedback. he spent the whole night repeating the same speech over and over again, but you sat patiently and encouragingly as he repeated the boring, inconsequential drivel to you. you never complained, not even once, and you didn’t ask him for any compensation in the form of him doing something — anything — similar for you, either. even if you had, he realizes, he wouldn't have given any to you, anyway.

“that’s…”

“and that’s not even all of it. who’s the first one you look for when you walk into a room? and when something good happens, who do you tell first? not anybody else, and i know for a fact that it’s not me, never will be,” she says bitterly. every new point slashes at his heart and ego.

and suddenly, things start making sense, albeit in the worst possible way. beomgyu loves you. his trust and dependence on you all make an awful sort of sense, but in a way, it’s relieving to finally be able to put a name to this feeling. his eyes still feel hot, but not so much because something feels wrong, but because things finally feel right for the first time in forever. he loves you, has loved you, and will continue to love you.

her words resonate with him so deeply, she can read it all over his face. it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he finally understands, but he’s still missing an important fact. the most important fact, even.

“yeah, i guess you finally get it now. you have feelings for her. and the worst thing is: you treat her like shit.” his eyes widen and the tears that were just threatening to escape are completely let loose. how could he only come to this realization after he already effectively stomped on your heart and your pure intentions? after you’ve made it clear that you don’t want anything to do with him anymore? and he has nobody but himself to blame, really; he practically shoved you away over and over and over again.

“i-i didn’t mean to —”

“sure, of course you didn’t,” she says with a sarcastic smile. “whatever makes you feel better for fucking over the girl who’s been in love with you for years.”

beomgyu may not know much about the inner workings of interpersonal relationships, but he does know he needs to see you, and he’s smart enough to understand that he needs to apologize.

but beomgyu has never apologized for anything in his life — not unless you count the times his mother made him grit them out as a child when he would objectively do something wrong, but this is another matter entirely. nobody will be holding his hand as he does it, and he’s not even really sure where to start. but he knows he has to try.

surely there’s a better place to try than at the bar where he currently finds himself, but then, there’s no time like the present. not to mention that he has a sneaking suspicion that you're avoiding all of your mutual friends’ get-togethers for the sole purpose of avoiding him. if the blocking of all of his socials wasn’t enough, the blocking of his phone number certainly was.

it’s not necessarily fate’s fault that he finds himself here, either. he heard from a friend (chaewon) that you’d be here tonight. he sees you from across the bar looking lively and chatty, and he prays that the good mood you seem to be in will help soften the upcoming conversation with him. to his luck, you step out of the bar to take a call, so he slides from his seat with an open beer bottle in tow, and follows you outside.

your back is turned, and he doesn’t quite hear what you’re talking about over the phone, but he does catch a giggle and a name, soobin’s, and it makes his heart ache. when you hang up, you turn to head back into the bar, but you’re met with his figure.

“h-hey,” he says, and he wants to smack himself for the casual greeting he still managed to fuck up.

your eyes widen for a moment before they go blank, and you’re pushing past him without a response.

“i need to talk to you,” he says, voice trembling as he grabs the back of your elbow, which you snatch out of his grip like his touch is poison.

“about?” you ask curtly, barely even deigning to turn your head to look at him. you have never been so hostile towards anyone, let alone him, and it's making him spiral.

“i’m sorry. i’m just really, really sorry,” he desperately apologizes. you’re silent for a few moments as you turn to completely face him with your arms crossed, and he’s trying his damndest to read your expression, but he can’t quite make it out.

“okay… and?” is all you say in response, and he fumbles over his words at your nonchalance.

“a-and, um, i —”

“you know what?” you cut in with an impatient sigh and a wave of your hand. “i don’t care anymore. you’ve said enough.”

“but i —”

“i don’t care, beomgyu.” and his name is said in such disgust that it sounds to him like it’s a chore for you to spit out. you’re about to turn and reenter the bar when his next words come tumbling out.

“i think — i know — i love you,” he says urgently, and your previously unreadable gaze turns into one of pure, sheer amusement. you’re so amused, you laugh, even.

“what the fuck are you talking about?” you say between giggles.

“i-i didn’t realize it before, but i talked to chaewon, and she even said that i’ve probably always felt that way about you. i know i didn’t show it, but i really do love —”

“okay, just stop. stop it right there, beomgyu. i’m only going to say it just this once, so listen carefully, okay?” you ask, and he fervently nods.

“okay. you don't know the first thing about love.” and he goes to interrupt you, but you don’t let him. “loving somebody means you put their feelings above your own. what the hell would you know about that?”

“i’m… i know i was wrong, b-but i —”

“beomgyu,” you say exasperatedly. “i’m so glad you’re finally reaching enlightenment, and i’m so happy i was cannon fodder for you to use to get there. but i just really, really don’t care anymore, okay? do what you want with whoever you want, but don’t bother me about it anymore, alright?” and he’s so stunned he can’t even form words, but you just shake your head and prepare to leave again. unconsciously, he goes to grab you again, which you consequently dodge, and he thinks this is the most rejected he’s ever felt before realizing it’s not over yet. it’s only truly over when you grab his bottle from him and splash its contents across his face before throwing the bottle back into his arms and leaving for good.

notes pt. 2: yeah... idk when part two will be out but stay tuned! also, if you all want a soobin ending let me know and i might... MIGHT do it ;_;

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navybrat817 · 8 months ago

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Puppy Dog Eyes

Pairing: William Miller x Female Reader

Summary: Will feels betrayed by someone he thought was his ally.

Word Count: Over 1k

Warnings: Fluff, humor, established relationship, talk of threats and interrogation, slight feels (it's me, okay?), William Miller (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Inspired by this post @ghotifishreads tagged me in. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Will counted the seconds in his mind as he stared his adversary down. Someone he should've considered an ally. Maybe even a friend. But now? He didn't recognize the beast in front of him.

He was used to people playing dirty behind enemy lines, but this? Betrayal in familiar territory? The sting was like a bullet to the gut.

“Before you test my resolve, I want you to know that I have forty three confirmed kills.”

A huff was the only reply he got.

Crouching down so he was at eye level, he huffed, too. His enemy was much smaller in size, but looks could be deceiving. “Now, I’m not going to hurt you. It wouldn't do either of us any good,” he said, tapping a finger against his thigh. “I just want to know why.”

He didn't get an answer. Only a defiant stare. The silent treatment. That was fine. Nothing he hadn't faced before. He had ways to make enemies talk if it came to that. And the puppy dog eyes wouldn't garner sympathy from him.

Battle had hardened him too much for that.

Shut down. Control. Manipulate. That’s what he did with his human instincts until he completed his mission.

Will continued the staring contest until the smaller one whined. It wasn't an answer, but it was a start. “You made this personal, you know. And I’ll throw you out in the rain if you push your luck,” he threatened, tilting his head to maintain eye contact. “No. You don't get to look away. Not after what you did. After I took you into my home.”

And how did he repay him?

“Honey?”

Your voice pulled Will’s attention away from the task at hand. “Yeah, baby?”

You leaned against the doorway, a smile tugging at your kissable lips. “Are you interrogating Bandit?”

Bandit, the puppy Benny got weeks ago. The puppy you offered to watch since his brother was going out of town for a few days and he didn't want to board him. The same little rascal who chewed up a pair of tennis shoes. New tennis shoes.

And hadn't touched a single one of his chew toys.

Will nodded to his ruined shoes. “You saw what he did.”

“I did and I'm sorry,” you said, though you had no reason to apologize. It wasn't like you chewed them up. “He’s a puppy and they’re going to do those kinds of things from time to time. Is it really worthy of an interrogation?”

“Yes, it is.” Bandit swung his head toward you and whimpered. “No, don’t you-”

“Aww. Is the former Captain bothering you?” You walked over and scooped him into your arms. The light golden puppy snuggled close, but looked at Will like he was taunting him. You had a soft spot for dogs and Bandit sensed that. Used it to his advantage.

“Taking his side?”

“I’m always on your side, Will,” you said, softening his resolve. “Now, Bandit, you know you aren't supposed to do that. Play with your toys, not shoes. Okay?”

Bandit barked. He actually barked for you. How did you do that?

“And apologize to Will,” you urged.

He barked again.

“Good boy,” you smiled as Will stood up and crossed his arms. “And don't worry, we won't throw you out in the rain.”

“I still might just to teach him a lesson,” Will half teased. “Or I can just put him in his cage.”

Bandit whined and hid his face. “Don’t you dare. He’s a puppy, not a soldier. And you were happy with watching him until now. Besides, he said he was sorry,” you said, giving Will your own set of puppy dog eyes.

You had a point. Bandit was a pretty well-behaved puppy, all things considered. He didn't bite. Didn't make a mess when he ate. Went to the door when he had to go outside. And he seemed content to sleep in his dog bed and didn't demand to sleep with the two of you.

“Fine. No cage,” he relented.

“Thank you. And I’m sure Benny will buy you a new pair of shoes once he gets back,” you added.

“Maybe,” he said. He wouldn't hold his breath to get new shoes or money for the damage done. He may be Benny’s big brother, but Benny adored his puppy and would likely blame him for leaving them out in the first place. He had a routine though. He put his shoes in the same spot after he exercised.

To be fair, he should've been more careful. He would be in the future. If anything, he could try to see the positive side of things and use this as a learning experience. That's what you tried to do when you ran into unfortunate situations.

“Is it a bad time to suggest we get our own puppy?” You asked, smiling as you lifted Bandit up higher and put his cheek against yours. “Chewed up shoes and a scratched up couch aside, it might be nice.”

Dogs did make for great companions. He’d be lying if he said he hadn't pictured the two of you having a kid and a dog for them to grow up with. Someone who would be a friend to and watch over his child.

“What do you think?” You smiled when he stayed quiet for too long.

He softly smiled. Most people couldn't sway him to do anything, but you had a way about you. Maybe it was because he loved you. “I’ll think about it.”

You put Bandit down before you leaned in and brushed your lips against Will’s. “Thank you.”

He went in for another kiss, but stopped when the words fully registered. “Wait.” He narrowed his eyes. “Did you say scratched up couch?”

“...Did I say that? I don't recall.”

“I remember everything you’ve ever said to me,” he told you.

You put a hand over your heart. “That is so romantic.”

“And you said ‘chewed up shoes and a scratched up couch aside, it might be nice’, so what exactly did he do to our couch?”

Your eyes widened as you took a step back. “Run, Bandit!”

And he did.

I couldn't help myself. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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hughiecampbelle · 3 months ago

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The Boys Preference: Public Displays of Affection

Requested: Heeyy, love your writing! I wanted to request a preference with the boys + HM and SB about how they would be with PDA. Thank youuu 💚💚💚💚 - anon

A/N: Thank you for requesting my love!! I hope you like it! This was so cute to imagine omg :D Feedback is always appreciated 💕

Butcher is allllllll about PDA. Most of the time, it includes a hand on your ass, but he's not against more of the innocent touches. To make a point, he'll kiss you pretty passionately, making sure the person who was hitting on you knows you're together. He's all about touching and being close. He doesn't even realize he's doing it. He just sort of gravitates towards you when you're together. He's really possessive and protective, and it just comes out through PDA. He's not big with words. He might call you "love," but he's far more comfortable with physical affection than anything else. Everyone groans or makes jokes about the PDA between you two, but neither of you care. He says they're jealous, and that makes you smile. Maybe it can be a bit much sometimes, but you know it's just because he cares, he worries, and he needs you close. When you're afraid or worried or just tired of this life, the PDA can be a huge comfort. It reminds you, you have Butcher. That, through it all, you'll always have him. He'll be your constant even through the hardship.

Hughie can be pretty shy with PDA. He really loves hand holding and playing with your fingers, but that's about as far as it'll go. Hughies pretty awkward when it comes to relationships and PDA. He's also really shy and awfully aware anything could make you uncomfortable. He never wants to step over the line, so he sticks to the most innocent forms. When he's scared or worried, he'll instinctively reach out and squeeze your hand. That's when you know this life is getting to him. You squeeze back, neither of you looking at one another, but using these moments to reassure one another wordlessly. You're never the first to let go. If or when he's okay again he'll let go, but you never want to leave him alone with his fears when he's feeling overwhelmed. Whatever kinds of affections Hughie shares are cherished. He's so shy with his love, so careful, it makes it so much more special when he does decide to show off a little.

Annie isn't as shy as Hughie, but she definitely knows what she can and cannot do. Because she's a public figure, she wants to do everything in her power to keep you safe. Homelanders allies and fans will do anything to hurt her and, by association, you. You've gone to a few red carpets together, but since she's stepped back from The Seven, her PDA has changed a lot. She used to pose for pictures with you and kiss you in public and now it's a lot more subdued. She'll hold your hand, but she scared if she did anything more, Homelander and Firecrackers fans would come after you. Not to mention the paparazzi that still follow her (and you) around on occasion. She loves you, of course she does, but she doesn't want your name dragged through the mud because you're in a relationship with her. Not that she listens to it, but she's heard from coworkers that Misty, on her show, talks shit about you and your relationship together. She wants to do everything in her power to protect you.

M.M. doesn't really "do" PDA. He has nothing against it. It's just not something he partakes in for a variety of reasons. The biggest is safety. He might not be in the limelight like Annie, but this life is dangerous, and it puts a target on your back when others know you're important to someone. If any Supe ever found out that he cared for you, and that got you hurt, he'd never forgive himself. Another reason is that he doesn't love constant contact. His hands get sweaty, and he's never sure if it's the right moment (because something is always going wrong - is there ever a good moment?), so it's just easier to avoid. He's affectionate with words, often calming you down or reminding you how much you mean to him, but the physical aspect just isn't something you do as a couple. Of course, he'll always hug you and make sure you're okay, but that's about as far as it goes. Neither of you is big on PDA, so it's not a big deal. He just wants to keep you safe. You're in enough danger as it is, he doesn't need Homelander or a Supe seeing him holding your hand, kissing you, etc. That puts an extra target on your back. If anything ever happened to you because of your relationship he'd never forgive himself.

Frenchie can go either way. When he's got something on his mind, when he's feeling particularly bad or guilty or ashamed about his past, he pulls away from PDA. He isolates himself from you. Not because he blames you or anything, but because he doesn't think he's deserving of your love or affection. When he's feeling less self-deprecating, he's all about PDA. It can hurt when he pulls away, but he makes it clear you have done nothing wrong. It's a cycle he follows where he pulls away, retreats into himself, only to understand you're hurt by his actions, and comes back at full force. It's not a short cycle. You often have a lot of time together full of affection. It's when it starts over that makes you feel like you've done something wrong, said something to make him feel bad. Frenchie feels horrible when he realizes what he's done, but he just can't bring himself to stop it. It definitely creates issues in your relationship. He never meant to do this, it's just something that he feels he has to do as a way of repenting.

Kimiko can be pretty shy with PDA. You're her first official relationship. You're both unsure, a little awkward, and shy. You never want to cross her boundaries or make her feel uncomfortable. There's a lot of communication between you. It's actually pretty sweet, genuinely innocent. The first time you grabbed her hand for reassurance, scared of Homelander and the future, you apologized after. She just smiles and tells you she liked it. It was surprising, but not in a bad way. It's one of your go-to's: holding her hand. Occasionally, when you're feeling more carefree, you'll hug her from behind and kiss her cheek. Your friends all poke fun at you for being so shy around one another. They could all tell you liked one another. One of you just had to build up enough courage to tell your feelings. As time goes on, you and Kimiko become more comfortable, allowing yourselves to be more affectionate in the open. When you're separated and end up together again, she's always eager to hug you, hold you, and check for any injuries.

Bonus! Homelander is all about PDA as long as the cameras are rolling and the crowds are cheering. It's nothing against you. It's not as if he's done with you when the curtains close. He's stressed out and angry and dealing with so much, mainly Butcher and The Boys. He doesn't really think about PDA outside of the public eye. It's a stark juxtaposition you have to learn to get used to. He's so loving and sweet and kind when you're being interviewed. As soon as it's over, his smile drops, and he becomes his upset, distant self again. The first time it happened, you felt wounded. Did he hate you? Was it all just an act? When he notices this, he assures you it had nothing to do with you. He's just stressed. It's not easy being the leader of The Secen nor is it easy keeping Vought together when it seems like everything is falling apart and everyone is a complete fucking idiot. It's not about you or the way he feels about you, it's just how things have to be.

Bonus! Soldier Boy's PDA borders on vulgarity. He's always got his hands or lips on you. When he loves, he loves with his whole being. That means serious make out sessions in front of people who assumed you were single or his arm around your waist, showing everyone that you're together. He gets insanely jealous over the smallest looks, the most innocent of comments. He can bet pretty handsy and, at times, go a bit overboard to the point of being inappropriate for most viewers. When you're around The Boys, they're pretty vocal about your PDA and will cut it off if they think you've gone too far. Ben can't help it. You're his everything. He makes sure everyone knows that you're his everything. That you're with him. He also loves the more PG13 touches like hand holding or hugging. He's constantly touching you one way or another. It brings him a lot of comfort knowing you're around, close by, that you're there for him no matter what.

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innorogers · 4 months ago

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Hypnagogia

Steve Rogers x Reader (You / OFC)

Summary: How could you ever think, for a second, that he’d want to be with anyone else?

Warning: Fluff / He had an ex / Strategic mastermind Steve

Characters: OC, Tony Stark, Maria Hill, Bruce Banner, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson, Sharon Carter

Also: Thanks in advance for repost or any feedback ❤️ Let me know if you want to be included in the taglist (DM, comment, repost and tag, whatever works)❤️ You don't need to read the previous chapters but it will definitely enhance the experience if you do.

The room was painted gold and white, sunlight penetrating through the glass wall, leaving a trace on the table, drawing a clear line between shadow and light. The air was cold—the AC was so strong that anyone who entered the room would feel a chill.

Steve’s fingers tapped on the desk as he observed the dust dancing in the air, making nonsensical but beautiful twirls and circles, driven by the movement of the air.

The ray of sunlight moved slowly but eventually settled on his finger, causing a sparkle to reflect off the walls from the simple silver ring he was wearing. The reflection hit the wall like a starlight, and that made him smile.

He was relaxed, confident, and content. His body still echoed with the sensations from your night together, and a barely visible curve appeared on his lips as his eyes caught the ring’s reflection.

No one else in the room noticed, except for Commander Hill, who was sitting in front of him. And she felt so sorry for General Ross, the UN Secretary, projected on the screen and connected to this meeting.

Everyone could tell that Steve was in a good mood. His polite smiles and gentle diplomatic words suggested a calm, serene, and approachable Captain.

But Maria knew better.

When Steve was relaxed and calm, he became even more dangerous. That state allowed him to assess threats, predict outcomes, and shift the momentum of any confrontation with a single command.

He’d become a master symphony conductor of chaos, orchestrating every maneuver with grace and confidence. In that state of calm, Steve could decipher not only the strengths of his allies but also their vulnerabilities, using that knowledge like a painter, artfully blending raw power with disciplined strategy.

He could read a war room like a map—the ebb and flow of combat were as clear to him as written instructions, allowing him to think several steps ahead of his enemies.

Just like he was doing right now. The silence that filled the room had lasted for more than three minutes. The tension was palpable, yet Steve, the one who had initiated this standoff between both sides, was staring at the wall, following the reflection of his own ring like an idiot.

Maria almost grinned. Steve knew exactly what he wanted, and wasn’t going to back down. He was still, unwavering. Like a panther poised to strike, he waited, while the UN Secretary-General on the screen was losing his shit.

Thaddeus Ross looked just as Maria remembered him before the Civil War—probably because he hadn’t aged during the Blip. He wore that familiar expression of pain, frustration, and anger, the same one he always had whenever he had to meet with Steve. He would have much preferred having this conversation with Tony, but Tony would sooner lick a rusty nail than be present in this meeting.

“Captain Rogers, we appreciate the Avengers’ cooperation and all that you’ve done for the world… for the universe.” Ross sighed, rubbing his temples.

Maria looked down, suppressing a smile.

Here we go.

“But let’s be clear. Agent Frazer is a trusted MI6 operative and a respected diplomat. Accusations like this require hard evidence, not speculation. We need to know exactly what happened on your end and why he’s being held.”

“I understand your concerns, Secretary, but this isn’t a simple matter of diplomacy gone wrong. Agent Frazer isn’t who you think he is anymore. Something changed when he entered our compound.” Steve replied, rubbing his thumb along the ring, his tone slipping into full Captain America mode.

“Changed?” Secretary Ross was losing his patience. “Like… a chameleon? Look, you’re holding an international agent without concrete proof. I need more than your word to justify this to our affiliate nations.”

“Well, you didn’t seem to need evidence when half the people in this room disappeared because a purple raisin snapped his fingers, did you?” Sam raised an eyebrow. “I’m afraid our word is actually the one thing you can rely on.”

Maria spoke up before Ross lost his shit over that comment: “He was fitted with a retinal device that was transmitting data. Whatever was sent, it wasn’t the actions of a regular agent. We traced it to a secure hub that's heavily encrypted. We’re not accusing without reason.”

“Oh…A retinal device?” Ross’s face was straightforward ‘are you kidding me’: “And do you really believe that the Brit Intel possesses this kind of tech? Who does this stuff besides you or Wakanda? Ok…” He put a hand on his forehead: “Where is it? This retinal device?”

“We can’t share it yet.” Steve responded. “There are elements of this that go beyond a single agent. Frazer might not have been acting on his own, and he might not even be fully aware of what’s been done to him.”

“Oh…Oh…You can’t share it?” Ross nodded sarcastically, feigning understanding.

“Sure, I’ll just go and tell the 216 representatives that you’re not ready yet. We should just sit and wait until you feel prepared. You’re holding and interrogating a UN Special Unit agent and accusing him of espionage and treason—those are serious claims, Rogers! And you’re still not providing actual evidence!” He nearly slammed the table in frustration.

But Steve remained immovable, now resting his hand on his jaw, his lips grazing the ring as if observing Ross’s imminent meltdown with mild amusement. He waited for Ross to calm down before speaking again, his tone patient.

“We’ve seen this kind of manipulation before. This technology—it’s something we’ve encountered from organizations that use people like Frazer as pawns. If we give you the full picture, we risk exposing more than we can afford right now.”

That’s a nice way of saying: I’m not revealing my girlfriend’s information to you, assholes. Maria tried to suppress her smile, keeping her expression serious.

“That sounds suspiciously like speculation.” Ross countered, his temper barely under control. He couldn't believe how difficult it was to reason with Steve and was amazed Stark ever put up with it.

“It’s not.”

Of course it is.

“Well, Captain, you’re implying this goes beyond Frazer, but without solid evidence or a proper investigation, you’re asking us to take this on faith. That’s a dangerous request, and we can’t accept that.”

You say that, but you’re exactly where Steve wants you. Maria thought, watching with awe. She had worked with some of the greatest tactical minds, but Steve’s natural ability to manipulate the flow of situations still amazed her.

“It’s not an act of faith.” Steve replied diplomatically. “I understand the difficulties of your position, Secretary. I’m asking you to trust our judgment. You know the Avengers don’t act without cause. We’re not holding Frazer out of suspicion alone. Something’s been compromised—maybe even within your own ranks. If you push too hard for full disclosure, we might end up tipping off whoever’s behind this.”

Ross’s expression shifted.

There it is. Maria noted. The bait was set.

“Are you suggesting there’s been a breach within the UN itself? That’s a serious accusation, Captain.”

Steve sighed. “It’s not an accusation—it’s a possibility. This is bigger than Frazer. If we’re wrong, we’ll take the heat. But if we’re right and this gets out before we can stop it, more than just Frazer’s life will be at risk.”

Ross sat back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Maria held her breath.

Everything was unfolding exactly how Steve wanted.

“Look, Rogers, I’m bending over backward here. I could escalate this to the Security Council, or worse, handle it diplomatically—which wouldn’t end well for the Avengers. But I’m offering a compromise, and you should think about it carefully.”

Steve remained impassive, his gaze steady on the screen, waiting for Ross to continue.

“You bring Agent Frazer to the UN Headquarters.” Ross leaned forward, as if offering something generous. “And we’ll conduct a joint interrogation. Your people, our people—all present. We’ll see everything firsthand, no secrets, no games. It’s a big concession on my part, but I’m willing to do it for the sake of transparency.” Ross crossed his arms, clearly expecting Steve to appreciate the ‘favor.’

Maria raised an eyebrow.

Checkmate.

It was exactly what Steve had wanted—moving Frazer to a controlled environment, where they could monitor both him and the UN’s reactions.

“That’s a reasonable compromise, Secretary.” Steve replied after a long pause, offering a diplomatic nod, his expression neutral, his voice steady. “We’ll escort Frazer to the UN HQ and work with your team. But remember, once that interrogation starts, what comes out might not be something anyone’s ready for.”

Ross exhaled heavily, convinced he had won.

“Good. I’ll notify the necessary parties. The UN appreciates your cooperation, Captain.”

“Sure.” Steve responded calmly, watching as Ross disconnected from the meeting.

As soon as the screen went dark, Maria couldn’t help but smile. “Finally, something went as expected.”

Steve leaned back in his chair, a small smile tugging at his lips. He pulled out his phone, ready to text you, but paused for a moment, sighing.

“Just hope I don’t regret this mission.” he murmured, referring to bringing you to the UN HQ with the team.

“Oh, come on, she’ll be fine.” Maria said, rolling her eyes as she began organizing the documents scattered across the table. “Don’t make me go over this again.”

“What are you worrying about?” Sam called from the other side of the room. “I think it’s a great idea. She goes undercover, uses her powers to check for secret passages, weapons, surveillance—anything shady. And if someone’s controlling Frazer, maybe she can pick up on it, and we can trace it from there.”

“Thank you, that’s exactly what I said.” Maria agreed, gathering the last of the files and opening the door for them. “And Ross is right, you know. Every piece of tech we have? She’ll be wearing it. We’ll make sure she’s fully covered. Plus, we’re all going, and you’ll be stuck to her like a fridge magnet on Bucky’s arm, so stop worrying.”

“Well, now that the mission is settled, let’s get to the important stuff.” Sam winked as they walked down the hallway, throwing an arm around Steve’s neck. “So? I see a ring on your finger. Is that… the ring? Engagement, maybe? So soon?”

Steve chuckled, walking ahead: “What else it would be?”

“Of course it’s not an engagement ring!” you protested, blushing as Dr. Lin examined your finger with far too much excitement.

“It’s a high-frequency, multi-sensorial ring capable of real-time biometric and geospatial transmission, with micro-electromechanical systems that monitor and broadcast vital stats, and GPS included.” You repeated the clarification Steve had given you.

“Ew!” Robert dropped your hand like it was burning. “It’s a tracking device?!”

His eyebrows shot up with incredulity: “Honey, I thought your ‘not-my-boyfriend’ was just some fling avoiding responsibility, but now…I’m worried. Is he some kind of psycho? This thing is connected to an app, isn’t it? So he can track you? Wait… does he work here? I bet HR would love to hear about this.”

“He’s not a psycho!” You laughed, finding his conclusion hilarious. “Far from it.” You said as admiring the way the ring caught the sunlight.

“Okay, sweetie? No. Nononono. This is NOT normal.” Dr. Lin leaned back in his chair, shutting down your screen and rearranging the desk so you were facing him.

“Listen, I think we’re walking on thin ice here. Now, give me his name. No more secrecy. If I know him, I’ll tell you everything. If I don’t…I’ll hack into the employee system and dig up all his dirty little secrets. Come on, chop chop. This is serious—how did you even agree to this?”

Too caught up in his horror, Dr. Lin didn’t notice the whispers in the back of the lab or your co-workers discreetly pulling out their phones to take pictures. Neither did you.

“It’s just for a short period…” You explained. “It’s for my safety, so he knows I’m okay.”

“That’s what all manipulative stalkers say!”

“Aww, Robert.” You were touched by his genuine concern. “You’re so sweet for worrying about me.” You rubbed his shoulder. “But really, don’t worry. I know what I’m doing, he is fine.”

“Says the girl who only interacts with plants and has zero social life.” Robert shook his head.

“Look sweetie, I don’t want to see you on the news, floating in the Hudson in a garbage bag, okay? Now give me his name.”

He pulled out his phone, scrolling through the employee database. “Is he an agent? Because that seems like something an angry agent would do… Here, let me do some background checks…” His voice trailed off when he looked up to see Steve standing beside him.

“Good afternoon.” Steve greeted, smiling politely.

“C-Captain.” Robert blinked, glancing around to make sure he was in the right place. “Um, this is the R&D lab, Cap.” What are you doing here? Dr. Banner and Mr. Stark are regulars, but you?

“I know,” Steve replied with a polite nod and leaned down pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Hey you ready? The car’s waiting.” He naturally picked up your bag and took your hand, nodding again to Dr. Lin. “Robert.”

You know my name?!

Dr. Lin was jaw dropped as you were held by Steve and left with a wave and a smiling ‘I’ll see you later’, he also had to squeeze down a scream like a fangirl when Steve put his arm around your shoulder and gave you another kiss.

“That was… dramatic.” You laughed as Steve pressed another kiss to your forehead.

“More dramatic than your ‘Revelio’ moment?” Steve chuckled. “No, I think we’re fine.” He took a deep breath. “It was bound to happen sooner or later. At least now, whoever’s after you might think twice before making a move.” His grip on your hand tightened as you walked toward the car. “Come on. Let’s go over the plan one more time before we enter the lion’s den.”

“Ugh…” you groaned. “Again?”

The cars pulled up to the United Nations Headquarters in New York, the convoy blending seamlessly into the pulse of flashing lights and bustling streets. Sleek black vehicles came to a smooth stop in front of the ionic compound, its towering glass façade reflecting the late afternoon sun as flags from every nation fluttered in the breeze.

You couldn't help but smile.

Ever since Natasha had pulled you out of Siberia and Tony had done everything in his power to ensure your freedom, walking these streets –or any streets– still felt like a gift. You never missed a chance to take it all in, but every time the city’s buzz—the constant hum of people, the soft melody of urban life—hit you, it was like this invisible symphony that no one else could quite detect. It was overwhelming and yet comforting at once, as though the very chaos of the outside world was an affirmation that you were part of it.

You stepped out of the car with Steve, Sam, and Maria close behind, as normal as always, if it weren’t for the human shield they were forming around you.

You were equipped with the latest Stark technology: retinal lenses calibrated to detect even the smallest anomalies, neuro-memory transmission implants capable of syncing with your mind (and Jarvis plus Friday), and discreet sensors were embedded into your gear, capturing and relaying data on anything that might emerge from the shadows. Everything Bruce and Tony had invented, inspired by your unique abilities, had been utilized, enhancing its powers.

And of course, Steve had insisted you wear the latest in protective gear, woven with advanced fibers that could withstand almost any physical impact. It was sleek, lightweight, and practically invisible—more like a second skin than armor.

But the reassurance in Steve’s eyes when he saw you wearing it was unmistakable. You’d sharpened your powers over time, and this was far from your first mission, but nothing made him worry less. He hated unpredictable situations, especially when it came to you.

You began to scan the surroundings. The heightened senses kicked in, eyes sharpening as you observed the compound. Your gaze fixed on the walls, seeing beyond the layers of concrete and steel, into corridors filled with armed security, advanced surveillance systems, and hidden passageways. Your mind – and everything Tony put on you– cataloged every detail: a vault hidden below the west wing, an array of weapons stored in an underground chamber, a strange device tucked behind a sealed door you couldn’t quite identify, but it wasn't a threat, just something heavy. Ew, was someone having sex in the basement? Well…who are you to judge?

As you reached the delegation, Steve stood tall, projecting calm authority as he greeted Thaddeus Ross.

“Secretary Ross, we appreciate your cooperation in handling this situation together. Agent Frazer is in your custody now.” He nodded as the car that held Agent Frazer with maximum care entered the building.

“Good to see everything went smoothly, Rogers.” Ross said, his eyes sweeping over the group. “Let’s hope this brings us closer to the truth.” Whatever the fuck that is.

“I’m sure it will.” Steve affirmed, his tone steady. “Commander Hill and I will be part of the joint interrogation. Captain Wilson and Dr. Lancaster are here specifically for the New Era Project.” He glanced at you and Sam, who both nodded in silent acknowledgment. “I believe Tony mentioned it before our arrival.”

Secretary Ross scowled, but Steve’s logic was irrefutable. The New Era Project was a groundbreaking collaboration between the Avengers and the UN, designed to bridge the gap between their efforts and resources.

Both sides would exchange personnel—scientists, strategists, and field agents—to oversee, analyze, and integrate their respective strengths. It was more than just oversight; it was a mutual exchange of knowledge and expertise, aimed at building something greater together. Although fraught with tension, the project promised mutual benefit—Stark Industries’ cutting-edge tech paired with the UN’s global infrastructure.

But right now? Steve was doing what Steve does magnificently —controlling the situation like a puppeteer with his invisible strings of strategy.

Secretary Ross also knew through Tony how Steve was resisting this initiative, and Stark wasn’t going to risk starting Civil War 2.0 over any UN proposal, even though this time they were actually really considering humanity’s future and peaceful, technological solutions.

But yet, here was Captain Rogers, offering two agents himself for cooperation on this project.

How could he say no?

“Fine.” F-You Rogers, F-You. Ross said with a forced smile: “But since Agent Frazer’s mission had been…a failure, I’m sure there will be no opposition from you if we send other agents, right?”

“As long as they aren’t brainwashed before coming in, I think we’ll be fine.” Steve patted the Secretary’s shoulder, joking a bit to ease the situation and ignoring the “Fuck you is not funny” face Ross just made.

“C’mon, let’s keep the wheel moving,” Secretary Ross growled.

You were walking a few steps behind him, both of your rings hidden in your pockets. Wearing them at the Avenger’s Facility? That was fine, where everything was under control and not a fly would pass by unnoticed, but here, neither you nor Steve wanted to be the spotlight of distractions or gossip that could lead to unanticipated events.

As the entire delegation began to move inside. The Secretary started the introductions of their side: “Dr. Yamato, head of Criminal Minds and War Behavior Analysis.” Ross gestured toward a sharp-eyed woman with a composed demeanor. “She’s one of the best in psychological warfare and behavioral profiling.”

“Colonel Marcus Bryant, specialist in Military Strategy and Hostage Negotiation.” He said as the Colonel gave a brief nod.

“And finally, Agent Elena Vasquez, cybersecurity and intelligence expert.” Ross introduced a woman with a sharp gaze and quick reflexes. “She’ll be handling the tech side of this, tracking any potential data leaks or anomalies.”

There were a few more nods exchanged, each member of the delegation poised for the task ahead.

As they reached the main entrance, another figure approached with confident strides. Ross turned to introduce her.

“And this is Agent Sharon Carter, head of Diplomatic Security.” Sharon, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, extended a hand with a polite smile.

“Captain.” She greeted Steve with professional ease. Her voice was polite, and nothing in her demeanor was out of line, but the familiarity between them didn’t escape your notice. There was a warmth in her eyes—a brief flicker of something that hadn’t entirely faded.

There was history there, subtle but unmistakable.

“Sharon. It’s good to see you.” Steve shook her hand with a warm smile. “You look great.” Though his focus never wavered from the mission at hand, a hint of something unspoken passed between them.

Your stomach tightened for just a moment, a flash of curiosity and unease passing through you, but you quickly refocused as Ross motioned everyone toward the compound for the formal debriefing. Sharon and Steve moved on, her interaction flawlessly professional, but that brief moment still lingered with you.

The UN HQ was as imposing as expected, but a day inside the building wasn’t enough to scan the entire place. You had superpowers, but is not like you are a machine, duh. And even with Stark’s enhanced tech, nothing new came up on your radar. Of course, you'd discreetly planted a tracking device for Tony to hack into their systems, but that was child’s play for him—he’d hacked SHIELD years ago, and the UN wasn’t much more of a challenge.

You frowned as you walked alongside Sam for what felt like the fifteenth lap through the hallways, waiting for the interrogation to wrap up.

Oh…this is so unfortunate. This building had the new edgy architecture style, encouraging horizontal workspaces and transparency through their walls of glass. So you could see… Steve and this gorgeous, agile, fierce, super-intelligent, attractive-as-hell Agent Carter chatting, sometimes chuckling, patting his shoulder.

What could they be talking about? “Oh, you’re so beautiful, like a golden rose in a summer garden. Look at you with that sexy-as-hell black suit and fine stilettos. Would you have dinner with me? Oh what? No, I’m not in a relationship, just with some weirdo that talks to plants and has x-rays in her eyes.”

“You know…” Sam was observing how your fingers were tapping on the desk over and over, maybe mumbling some unhearable words in a language he couldn’t understand. So he said in a very low voice, “That’s way in the past, okay? Things just didn’t work out for them. I think they didn’t even try… It was chaotic during the Sokovia Accords, running away, homeless, going from here to there, hiding in Europe… And then, the Blip. No one had the mood to be in a relationship… Well, not that I know, I was out in a limbo. But still, I think that’s like…so over.”

“WHAT?” It took you like 30 seconds to actually process what he was talking about. “They were…? They were…dating? In a relationship?”

Sam opened his mouth. And then closed it. And then he stood up.

“I’m gonna get some coffee. You want some? You look like you could use some coffee…yeah, so I’m just gonna…alright.”

And he was out. Leaving you with your jaw dropped. But then you looked back to the interrogation room and everything just made sense.

Oh my God. These two would have beautiful and incredibly blonde kids with that perfect silky skin, tall silhouette, gracious walk. If it’s a boy, it would be like Steve Rogers 2.0, and a girl would totally be Miss Americana. They’d be like this perfect cliché advertisement poster with the house in the countryside, white fences, a backyard full of roses, Sunday barbecues, a golden retriever, and kids playing baseball.

And what would you do? Well…if you survive this dark hidden organization that’s highly likely to use, torture, and experiment on you, maybe you could ask for a transfer to Wakanda. You never met Princess Shuri, but Tony speaks so well about her, and the projects they have over there are so amazing.

You wouldn’t have to see Steve’s wedding of the century if you were in a cage in the woods, right? And the weather there is so good for the plants, oh you could finally have the Epiphyllum oxypetalum you’ve always wanted. And if anything, you could talk to it until you are old.

And Bucky is in Wakanda too! You’ve never met him, but hey, you could always bond over “remember those days we got two shots of electrowave in our bodies so we could get those injections that made us recover faster? Old times, huh?”

Yeah, that sounds okay. You could live with a broken heart; people do that all the time, right? Your body and mind were already quite shattered, so it wouldn’t matter if your soul and heart was a fucking mess too. You nodded as you decided and looked up at Sam, who was approaching with two coffees in his hands.

“Do you think Tony would allow me to take my plants to Wakanda?”

“What?” The Falcon hesitated for a moment, then he switched the coffee he was handing you: “Okay, girl, take the decaf.”

“Hey.” Steve’s voice broke through your spiraling thoughts as he approached, his hand lightly brushing your arm. You hadn’t even noticed he’d left the interrogation room. “We’re ready to go. We’ll probably have two or three more of these sessions, but we can’t keep the interrogation going forever. Maria will stay here for this shift, and Nat will take over tomorrow... hey, you alright?”

“What?” You realized you were biting your fingers. “Oh, um… yeah, it’s unusually quiet over here. Nothing’s happening, no extra readings, no signs of any… vibrations or energies in the air. We’ve covered everything we needed.” You actually had more than needed, but there were high frequencies in the air—signs of recordings—so you didn’t want to give too many details.

Steve nodded as he observed you giving a final look around the place. He knew what you were implying, so he tilted his head toward the exit. “I’ve already said my goodbyes, so we’re good. Let’s go.”

‘Your girl is concerned. You might want to talk to her.’ Sam gave Steve a look, the kind of Avenger’s sign-language they used for silent communication as they were walking out.

‘What?’ Steve didn’t get a thing what Sam was trying to say with those rolling eyes.

‘I said she seems upset, maybe talk to her… about stuff.’ Sam insisted.

‘You want me to hire more staff?’ Steve gave up, opening the door for you. “You suck at this, Sam.”

“Look, man…” Sam laughed, raising his hands. “You know what? Forget it.” Oh, he was going to enjoy this later. But then his phone pinged with an incoming message, and he frowned, showing it to Steve. “Hey, I’ll take this one.”

“I seriously doubt it’ll lead us anywhere, but yeah, go ahead,” Steve nodded. It was an army contact from Sam’s, probably had something to spill about Agent Frazer’s past. “I’ll see you at home.” There was no chance he was leaving you alone.

“Tony is sending the Iron Army to escort you.” Sam said, checking another message just like Steve’s: “Y’all wait for it, alright? Keeps me chilled.”

“Yup, think that’s the best.” Steve agreed, looking up at the sky as he nodded.

It was a long drive from the UN HQ back to the compound, but you were grateful for the journey. You always enjoyed watching the view outside the window, the streetlights passing by, tracing lines along the highway at night. The smooth, steady movement of the car always calmed your mind.

Steve noticed your unusual silence. You’d been so excited on the way there, but now you were lost in your thoughts—and not in the good way he remembered. Your gaze was fixed on the traffic lights outside, your face shadowed by the night.

“A penny for your thoughts?” He lowered the AC and took your hand; you were freezing.

You sighed. You were never good at lying or hiding your thoughts from him, especially when you were pouting, sad, and... angry?

“I don’t want you to break up with me and leave me. I’ll have to go to Wakanda… and I’ll end up digging Vibranium and talking to flowers and succulents for the rest of my life.”

“What?!” Steve nearly hit the brakes, torn between looking at you and driving safely. “Wh—what are you talking about? Why would I…” Didn’t he propose just yesterday? You seemed so happy this morning, looking at the shining ring and all. What happened…? Ohh! He remembered Sam’s muted signals and connected the dots.

“Babe… no…” He reached for your hand, noticing your eyes starting to redden. “It’s not what you think, okay? Look, I... I would never...” He was surprised, a little frustrated, and also... amused.

Were you jealous? He wanted to comfort you, but he couldn’t help the small smile creeping up. Did you care this much?

“But… why would you go to Wakanda?” He drove with one hand, gripping yours tightly with the other. He loved your comebacks, but he was always intrigued by your reasoning behind them.

“You’re right.” You looked down. “I wouldn’t go. I’d rather stay here and watch you fall for someone else than… than not see you at all.” The thought stung more than you expected, a pang in your chest as you almost sobbed.

“Hey… no, what are you even thinking?” Steve’s arm slid around your shoulders. “Come on, don’t say that. I’d never… that I could even look at anyone else?”

“Well, why wouldn’t you…” You grabbed a tissue and wiped your nose. “Prettier, hotter, smarter, taller, incredibly talented, agile, fierce, stunning legs, beautiful smile… impeccable résumé and…” You mumbled the most important part: “...memories.”

“I don’t live in the past.” Steve said after a pause. He almost never used your full name, and when he did, you knew he was serious. His hand gripped yours firmly, refusing to let go. Not now, not ever.

“I just want you. Don’t ever think I’d look for someone else because…” He glanced at you, smiling. “You’re…”

Before he could finish, you caught sight of a blinding light approaching behind him—fast, like a bolt of lightning.

“Brakes!” You yelled just as a fiery laser shot streaked past, slamming into the ground ahead. The explosion sent debris flying, and a smoking crater appeared in the middle of the road.

Steve reacted instinctively, throwing his arm in front of you to keep you from lunging forward as the car screeched to a halt.

The vehicle skidded wildly, barely stopping in time. He swerved hard, tires screeching again, and the car bolted down the highway at full speed.

“Was that the Iron Army?!” Steve growled, his knuckles white as he gripped the wheel tighter. “I thought they were escorting us?” His words trailed off as a series of rapid beeps echoed inside the car. The HUD on the dashboard flashed red, and in an instant, the Iron Army drones, which had been circling above, descended into a tight formation, blocking the road ahead with weapons locked.

“Go! Gogogo! I’ve got the comms!” You shouted looking back, bracing yourself as the car jerked from side to side. Your fingers flew over your mobile device, checking the connections. “System’s down.” You pressed your earpiece, connecting to Jarvis through a secondary hub. “Jarvis?!”

“There’s more incoming—hold tight!” Steve warned over the growing roar of engines as he dodged fire from the drones, veered sharply to avoid incoming fire, weaving the car in zigzags as explosions rocked the pavement next to you.

“Those drones have tracking sensors!” Now why the fuck you developed them to be so damn perfect?! You cursed under your breath, ducking as another drone whizzed overhead, firing a barrage of missiles.

The impact sent the back wheels of the car into the air momentarily before Steve hit the gas, speeding through traffic.

“Comms down. We’ve been compromised.” You said as ripping out the chip from your phone and chucking it out the window. Reaching for Steve’s, you disabled it too. “These things have trackers.”

“We’re on our own.” Your eyes darted across the highway as you quickly scanned the drones’ movements.

You leaned toward Steve, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Babe, I need you to trust me and do exactly what I say…”

He shot you a sideways glance, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes despite the chaos. “Oh that’s a first…”

“Take the next exit!” you commanded, spotting a key weakness. The car swerved down the off-ramp, taking a sharp turn under the bridge. “Now, slow down.”

“Slow down? We’re being chased by killer robots!” Steve’s voice was filled with disbelief, but he followed your instruction.

“Trust me.” You said, scanning the crumbling infrastructure above. “I’m going to make them hit that column over there. It’s weak, and when it falls, the impact will throw us out onto the next street. Just take that street after, and we’ll be free. Ready?”

Steve gave you a quick, impressed nod. Fuck, he was so turned on. “Ready.”

“Now, slow down and punch it!”

The car came to an unnerving crawl before Steve slammed the gas pedal again. The drones locked onto the car, unleashing a barrage of fire at the bridge’s support column. It crumbled in an explosion of concrete and steel just as you predicted. The impact sent the car soaring forward as debris rained down around you. In a controlled swerve, Steve navigated through the chaos, landing on the next street.

“Shit, that was close…” You glanced back as the explosion faded in the distance.

Despite the situation, Steve couldn’t help but smile, shaking his head in awe. How could you ever think, for a second, that he’d want to be with anyone else?

“Drones,” You suddenly noticed, approaching from a side street. “Babe, turn left.” You were using your powers to their maximum potential. “Empty street on the right, go around it.” You clicked the back of your ear, and the lenses you wore enhanced your readings. “Iron Army on our twelve. We gotta ditch the car.”

“I don’t think…” Steve slammed the brakes as the car drifted, barely missing a wall by inches. Dark shapes of drones were closing in fast, their red targeting lights flickering ominously through the night. Then, up ahead, you saw it—the Iron Army.

Shots fired from the drones, hitting the pavement near the car. Sparks flew as explosions rocked the street around you, and the army of hacked robots was approaching by air.

“Go straight!” you shouted, just as Steve hit the gas, forcing the car into a sharp turn down a narrow alley. You braced yourself as the vehicle skidded around the corner, barely avoiding the collapsing dumpsters.

“It’s a dead end!” Steve said as the headlights illuminated a brick wall.

“Undo your seatbelt, drift at the end, and give me your hand!” you ordered, eyes fierce with determination as you watched the enemies surrounding the car.

You blinked at him and added, “Will a minute be enough to disappear?”

Inspired by your confidence, Steve sighed with a smile. “It’ll have to be.” He held his breath slightly as the end of the alley neared. The tires smoked as the car drifted, nearly lifting off the ground, and everything happened so fast, yet so slow.

The car took a side hit from the attack right as it lifted off the ground, fishtailing through the air. With his seatbelt undone, Steve was thrown from the seat. He grasped your hand tightly as you both were flung away.

The Stark Tech Tony and Bruce implanted in your palm activated, covering your hand like a second skin. A repulsor blast shot out, and with that surge of energy, you both were propelled in the opposite direction.

Steve’s instincts kicked in, and he hugged you tightly, shielding you from the impact. At the same time, you raised your other hand, shattering the glass with another blast, saving him from harm. You both tumbled through a building’s window as the car exploded behind you.

Steve landed on top of you, protecting you with his hands and body, his face covered in ash and sweat. But he laughed, even while panting heavily. His heart was racing, resting on your shoulders as he caught his breath.

“Oh…” You panted too, your heart racing. “That was close…”

“God…” Steve grinned, laying his forehead against yours, utterly relieved and impressed. “You have no idea… how much I fucking love you.” You wonderful, perfect, incredible genius. His heart was about to explode with all the pride and love he felt at the moment.

“Yup, me too. Come on. We gotta move.” You noticed the Iron Army and drones’ lights behind the smoke of the explosion. “That fire will cover our temperature scans, but not for long. Come on, over here.” You quickly got up and held his hand as you exited the building.

“Here, I need you to throw this, with all your strength, as high as you can.” You reached into your jacket, pulled out a small spherical device, and handed it to Steve. He threw it with a quick flick, hurling it high into the air. The second it reached its peak, the device burst open, releasing a thick, shimmering cloud that expanded rapidly, enveloping both you and Steve entirely.

“What’s that?”

“Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder.”

“What?”

“A nanotech cloaking device that disrupts sensors and bends light, creating a temporary optical camouflage, making everything go unnoticed by any scan detection. Even Stark Tech.” You held his hand as you moved swiftly and silently, cloaked by the swirling cloud.

Steve sighed as you slipped into an alley. “How many Harry Potter references are we having?”

TBD

Continue to:

8: Lull |

9: Vigil |

10: Eclipse |

Is past midnight but I still managed to post it on Friday! <3 I'm actually in the car posting this, lol, but I'm not driving! So this was SUCH a fun chapter to write, i LOVE this machiavellic mastermind super strategistic Steve!! (I'm so turned on by him) So thank you for sticking with me thus far! Now I have a question, would you do the honors and complete this for me?

Just let me know! (I'm actually near finishing it, and Idk if I'm changing it but who knows!!! :D )

Tag list: @vioplay19 / @jamneuromain / @steviebbboi / @heletsmelovehim / @otterlycanadian

#captain america x reader #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x reader #captain america x you #chris evans fanfiction #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers fanfic #captain america x ofc #captain america fanfiction #marvel fanfic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfiction

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velvetvexations · 4 months ago

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I got this comment on my antigonism explainer and I asked for permission to address in it's own post because I think it's good feedback:

I appreciate your support of transmasc and transnull people more than you can ever know. I, however, think coming up with a phrase that distincts “transmasc friendly transfems” is deeply divisive- and will further the divide and discourse between transfems and transmascs We don’t need a speciality phrase to denote people who are friendly towards us since those that are AGAINST us are the loud minority- the majority of real world trans people (transfems especially) are in unity with transmascs I think that this may just worsen the divides that are already starting to exist, and will further perpetuate discourse where it isn’t needed. Transfems can just say they support transmascs and transNB people, you guys don’t have to come up with a special title. I mean this all with the upmost love and sincerity. Transfems who support transmascs are the majority of transfems, yes there is an issue with TIRFism online But that is not the majority of transfems on the internet- and especially in real life. We should be focusing on greater unity and talking about what makes us similar- not dividing ourselves even more into subcategories to be policed or pointed to. From a transnull who is just as deep in this discourse

I'm thankful for your perspective and that you've given thought to the issue, and wanted to share your thoughts in a way that I feel is really sweet, which as someone with NPD I appreciate a lot. This is something that's been expressed to me about the idea previously.

I disagree, though. Are transfems who support transmascs and other non-transfems the majority? Yes, absolutely! But when the vocal minority is as loud as it is, they need to be loudly shutdown. That kinna thing takes megaphones. They're going to go away on their own and I want there to be a way to take an active stance that throws oneself out there as someone opposed to that shit.

Already it's just taken as a given that transfems are all TRFs.* If we don't go further, we're letting the vocal nature of the minority take up more and more space and become more and more accepted. Because like, they are super aggressive about it. These things get spread around on posts with thousands of notes every day. TRFs do nothing but bitch about non-transfem trans, intersex, and GNC people, and in doing so make spaces an increasingly less safe place for them.

And the signaling is a really important issue too. A lot of the responses to antigonism from transmascs in particular have been saying that it makes them feel safer. I've gotten messages from people who feel really bad about the paranoia trans radical feminism has caused them to feel around transfems they don't know, and that sucks! I'm so not interested in dismissing that as people who need to be less online or something, especially since I've heard a lot of stories of IRL spaces being hostile to any expression of masculinity as well. These are people who are, at best, facing a massive bullying issue, and at worst being driven out of the trans community entirely. It's cruel and I'm not going to shame them for having this expectation hammered into them, especially because I've also constantly been let down over and over and over when I see a post about transmisogyny or the transfem experience that I really like, only to be gravely disappointed when I see they're a TRF. It constantly happens. It sucks. It sucks so unbelievably much.

Hell, a lot of TRFs are self-identified TMEs, and in fact, most of them are! Every time they do one of their polls trying to prove some dumbass point, it's overwhelmingly "TMEs" who respond. It's like, a relatively small number of transfems kicking around a little cult of sycophants, many of whom are weird as fuck in their own ways but also many who are just trying to be good allies. They should also be signaled to that, hey, when I tell them they actually didn't need to drop a headcanon of a character that gave them joy because a transfem said so, I'm not the freak anomaly I get painted as. Like, I've responded to things asking if something so not an issue was transmisogynistic, or what the problem with TMA/TME was, only to immediately have multiple TRFs zoom into the replies like "don't listen to velvetvexations, she alone has those opinions because she hates all other transfems."

And what about transfems who also need to have it made clear TRFs aren't normal, too? Who need to be gently caught before they get indoctrinated into this shit?

When you see a trans woman saying she thinks it's bad to call non-binary people slurs, identifying as an antigonist gives the messages she's not a random confused baby bird brainwashed by Big Transmisogyny to hate her sisters. She is just one of many who feel that way.

And like, is making it a "faction" like that divisive? I don't think so because holy hell, this discourse is already divisive and toxic as fuck. The intense vitriol that gets thrown at one side from another is already radioactive. What's going to make things worse than it is now? TRFs will have to put up with seeing that other transfems are enthusiastic about disagreeing with them? Those other transfems will feel an us vs. them mentality regarding radical feminists?

A friend of mine put it really well last night:

it isn’t enough to just be ‘normal’ about transmascs and intersex people, actually you do need to be actively working against the now baked in harmful ideologies that have gained traction

I don't want to be normal about these things, I want to be actively anti-transandrophobic, actively anti-intersexist, etc. in a way that sends a clear message to everyone. Being normal about these issues is only normal until it isn't. And even if it forever remained a minority with no threat of growing larger than it is today, TRFs should still have the door slammed in their face until they learn to play nice. If transfems who are Normal really are "normal", then make TRFs feel like pariahs rather than having the unmitigated gall to declare that transmascs invented the transmisogynistic concept of transandrophobia because "2024 is the year transfems united under the banner of transfeminism."

Should we let them have that, and just say oh, well, it's obviously intuitive we're the normal ones and they're the weirdos, we can just quietly continue to consider ourselves the default model of transfem while radical feminism continues to cause more and more division entirely on it's own?

*not that they use that language

anyone may reblog this!

#transandrophobia #exorsexism #intersexism #homophobia #discourse

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aglaias-blog · 1 year ago

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"Kindred Spirits" Chapt. 1

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Author's note: This is going to be a series, with a bit of Aemond's POV in the next chapter :) Feedback is always welcome and appreciated! <3

TW: afab!reader, soulmate AU, Aemond not letting his walls down/being an arrogant dick, religious guilt/imagery and corruption kink in later chapters, no smut in this chapter (there will be some in later chapters though ;)), being kinda tricked into a betrothal?

Summary: Being a highborn lady, a love match is out of the question for you, much less a match with your soulmate. You're not even told about the intricacies of what meeting your soulmate entails. When you are tricked into a betrothal to Aemond Targaryen by your parents, you don't know how to handle things. The Prince's cold demeanor is off-putting, but he is also the only one who is willing to help you, the only one you can depend on. Just how is all this going to play out?

"Kindred Spirits" Masterlist

The journey to the Red Keep had been sold to you as a diplomatic trip that your father had to make, and you knew that there was something suspect about it as soon as he invited you to come along. „I know how much you love travelling“, he said, „The Red Keep is a masterpiece of architecture“, he said! Thinking back, it took everything you had in you to not laugh out loud as you hastily made your way through the labyrinth of corridors that was the Red Keep. Enraged, that you fell for this scheme so easily.

Obviously you should have been more skeptical, when your father tried to lure you on this journey with all kinds of promises. But then again, you couldn’t have avoided this forever. „This“ meaning marriage. Marriage to a certain prince whom you absolutely did not want to see at the moment.

It was clear from the moment you were born that your marriage would be arranged to some house or another – for diplomatic reasons of course. Loyal allies were hard to come by, apparently. You never expected though that your parents would think it necessary to come up with some kind of ruse in order to marry you off.Granted, you had always been the stubborn one in your group of siblings, however you also had a sense of duty that was instilled in you since you were in diapers.

It was always obvious to you that one day you would have to marry a man you had never seen before in your life, in order to strengthen the ties between his house and yours – or rather your father’s. The soulmate bond was completely ignored in your circles. A marriage that wouldn’t benefit your house was unthinkable, and absolutely no thought was wasted on marrying someone who wasn’t highborn. So, you came to terms with the fact that you would never find your soulmate – marriage to someone else than your soulmate wasn’t something pleasant to think about, but it was presented to you as inevitable. Your parents weren’t soulmates, and still loved each other, which in itself was already rare among nobility. You didn’t even know what would happen if you met your soulmate – your Septa never taught you anything about it, as not to give you any improper ideas. Though you would have liked a bit of an early warning about when you would be married.

Your delegation had arrived in the afternoon, and while you had thought that you would be deathly tired, you were absolutely buzzing now. Trying to get a good look at the Red Keep and King’s Landing, you stuck your head through the window of your palanquin. You were struck by the different smells, the people wearing fabrics and clothes you had never seen before, the merchants speaking in a dialect you didn’t recognize, even the light was different here - you couldn’t soak it all in at once, and when you had arrived at the Red Keep, your head was buzzing from all the sensory overload.

As soon as you had settled in your rooms, your father had come to get you introduced to the Queen, as the King was "otherwise occupied", and your presentation to him would be done later.

What you thought was your introduction to the Queen, became much more alarming when you realized that one of the Princes was there, and Queen Alicent’s smile was much too joyful for a simple presentation of a lord’s daughter. After a quick welcome to your father, and a quick introduction to her son who turned out to be Prince Aemond, the second-born son, she immediately turned to you. Her warm words in regard to your arrival were unusual, she was speaking to you as if she already knew you well, like a good friend. And when you were moving into a deep curtsey, she quickly stepped forward, taking your hands in hers to stop you. You shot your father a confused glance when she cupped your cheeks, the excitement in her eyes only adding to your bewilderment. She seemed to notice that you had not reciprocated the delight on her face, and hesitantly took a step back, awkwardly clearing her throat.

Looking for an explanation you turned to your father. Someone would have to say the things out loud that were hanging heavily in the tension of the room. You almost didn’t quite catch what your father was murmuring under his breath, but when the most important part of it sunk in, you only heard the rest as if through cotton wads.

„You are to marry Prince Aemond“

Confused, your gaze fell on the Prince, now taking a closer look at him, and he returned it with a look of defiance on his face, his arms crossed. He was the picture of aloofness and arrogance, if only he wasn’t picking at his thumb with his fingers beneath his elbow. You didn’t notice it though, too occupied with handling the news at hand.

Everything fell into place then and there. The „maybe you’ll meet someone special“, said with a playful wink, but you thought nothing of it; your Septa focusing on „wifely duties and virtues“ during your lessons before your departure, and you hadn’t noticed the sudden change in your curriculum; the joyful glint in your mother's eyes as she was picking out the dresses for your journey herself, while you were too busy daydreaming about the trip to a foreign part of Westeros.

„W-what?“, you asked tentatively, refusing to understand, hoping that you were wrong. Pleadingly, you turned to your father again, „Why didn’t you - “ But he interrupted you quickly, hoping to make an end to this scene as soon as possible.

Turning his back to the Queen and Prince he tried to shush you.

„This is most improper“, he murmured, hoping the Queen and the Prince wouldn’t be able to hear what he was saying. He shot them a quick smile over his shoulder before continuing his effort in a hushed voice, „you knew you would have to marry one day, this betrothal is a done deal - you’ll be happy here.“

Suddenly, your dress felt like your maid had laced you up too tightly. It was positively stifling in here! You tried to focus on your breathing, the panic visible in your eyes. Nevertheless, you were aware of your surroundings and the inquisitive gazes of the Queen and Prince on your back.

„Right!“, you said, turning around sharply with a reassuring smile on your face. It wouldn’t do you any good to continue this awkward display of miscommunication in front of royal company. You would have enough time to think of a solution to this situation as soon as you got out of here and in the solitude of your chambers.

„It is an honour to be welcomed by you so warmly, Your Grace“, you said, curtseying deeply. Worried that your mask of calmness might slip, you bowed your head low.

„I’m overjoyed to make your acquaintance“, you continued, hoping that she wouldn’t be offended by your previous display of lacking knowledge of your betrothal.

You quietly thanked the Seven when she took a step towards you, again taking your hands in hers. „As am I“, she said, smiling warmly. You couldn’t quite tell if it was an honest smile, or just pure politeness to put both you and your father at ease.

„Lord Barryn, I take it the crossing wasn’t as calm as I had hoped?“, she turned to your father, giving him a conspiratorial look. „You must tell me more about your journey here while I show you the gardens, the blood-blooms are so beautiful this time of year!“, she beamed, while gesturing to the door.

How discreet, you thought to yourself saracastically. Your father heartily agreed with the Queen, and you only noticed that you had been staring at the floor during the whole of their conversation, when the door fell shut behind him. Your first thought was that it might be improper to leave a young man and woman unchaperoned in a chamber like this, but then you remembered that you were already betrothed. You could only chuckle humourlessly at the thought.

„I take it you knew, my Lord?“, you said into the air, jutting out your chin. Attack was the best defence, after all. The Prince hadn’t moved at all during everything that had unfolded, still standing stiff as a board with his arms crossed.

„I did“, he said coolly. Marvelous, you thought, he seemed to be a great conversationalist.

The prolongated pause in your conversation, if you could even call it that, made him move his hands behind his back awkwardly; if you refused to say anymore then he had to, this was turning embarassing rather quickly.

„I was told about your family background, the house Barryn, your faith, your personal interests, your talents -“

„Pray tell, what don’t you know about me?“, you interrupted him suddenly, throwing manners to the wind. Overcome by the embarrassment that he knew everything there was to know about you, while you – well, you didn’t know anymore about him than what was presented to you right now. He was handsome, you had to admit. His eyepatch intrigued you, you wouldn’t ask him about it now, though. But there was some kind of cruel beauty about him, you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, he seemed… cold in a way.

His silence was response enough to your question. The truth was that he was even shown portraits of you. Being told so much about you, he felt like he knew you, although he had never seen you in person before. He almost felt something akin to compassion when he saw your discomfort about this mess, so he kept quiet as to not embarrass you further.

„Right,“ piqued, you smoothed over your skirts, „I believe this matter to be settled then. Please excuse me, my Lord, I’m excruciatingly tired from the journey.“ He didn’t seem to have expected you to leave so soon, a look of surprise on his usually arrogant face.

You forced a smile unto your face before curtseying slightly and striding towards the door and opening it. From the side you saw him reach out to you, and your thin string of patience snapped.

„Don’t! Touch me“, you hissed, shooting the Prince a sharp glance over your shoulder, before quickly stepping out the door. You wondered where he got the impertinence from to think that he could touch you, you barely knew each other! He stopped in his tracks, stubbornly calling out your name.

Swiftly, you turned around, trying to speak calmly, as not to reveal your panicked state. „You may not call me by my given name, my Lord. I’m still Lady Barryn to you!“

Then, inelegantly grabbing your skirts, you made your way to your chamber, leaving Prince Aemond standing in the door.

You were pacing in your lavishly decorated room, the thoughts in your head running berserk. You wondered whether every room in the Keep looked like this or if they made a special effort for the bride of the Prince. The bride. You were a bride! The thought made you slump down to the ground. Why did your parents think that they had to keep their plans from you? You had been stubborn sometimes, yes, but never that much that it should make them think to hide your own betrothal from you!

You would have thought that they would prepare you more properly – beginning with telling you about your future husband, like Prince Aemond was told about you.

Prince Aemond - why would he speak to you using your first name? You thought that he would have had a good education, manners included. Why would he think that a mere introduction would be enough to touch you, to leave away all titles when speaking to you?

And if he knew about the betrothal, who else knew? Did his siblings know? Did the court know? The servants most certainly treated you like they knew. If they did, you would have to play along with everything, making it seem like you also knew about the betrothal beforehand. If you didn’t, you would make yourself vulnerable to gossip, or worse, other schemes and intrigues. You knew enough about people at court to realize that most of them were shrewd and would take advantage of you if you let them. You would only be another pawn to them - it was like that at home, and you were sure that it would be no different here. Just another sheep surrounded by wolves.

A look outside the window told you that you only had a few hours left, before you would be called to supper with the family. You hadn't even taken the time to admire the view from the large window, too occupied with your own thoughts. Your maid had told you that it would be an important event, celebrating your arrival. Of course at the time you had wondered why they would make such a big deal of it, well, now you knew. Slowly, you mustered up the energy to drag yourself to the bed and threw yourself on it. A myriad of thoughts was racing in your head – you couldn’t concentrate on one, much less find a solution to all this.

Prayer had always guided and helped you, but you had never been in a situation as serious and hopeless as this. Still, you prayed - rambling to the Mother about all your worries, telling the Maiden about your future marriage, hoping to at least get along with your husband, asking the Crone for guidance in this chaos where you couldn’t see what was coming, and most importantly imploring the Warrior to give you courage and strength, as you were truly preparing for battle.

You weren’t against a marriage as such – you trusted in the Mother, and your parents to find you a good match, even if an alliance was the top priority. And an alliance with the House Targaryen would be a great succes, indeed. You felt most uneasy about the fact that everyone was so informal with you, treating you like a family friend, althought they had never met you before. You were thrust into an environment where you knew nobody, yet everybody seemed to know you – most of all your betrothed.

The servants found you asleep in your room, a copy of The Seven-Pointed Star by your side. You had been so lost in contemplation, but at the same time so fatigued from the events of the day that you had drifted off into a restless, fidgety sleep. Startled, you awoke when you heard the servants bustling in your room to light the candles and stoke the fire. You hadn’t even noticed how dark it had become outside. Then your maid came in with your dress for the dinner and put it on the bed. Right. Dinner with the whole family, and the King, and the Prince, and some members of court – your first introduction as the bride of the second-born prince. The pressure to make a good impression was immense.

When you saw the dress that your maid carried, you thought back to your mother. She had picked the dress herself, specially for this occasion – and hadn’t bothered to tell you why. While you felt a pang of resentment at the thought of her, you also knew that this situation couldn’t be helped, you had to marry sooner or later, you just wished they had told you about it earlier. Well, at least your mother had good taste. You hoped that the long sleeves would protect you a little against the humid cold that seemed to always creep into the walls of the Keep and, of course, choosing the Targaryen colours was a clever move. The rich blood red colour of the dress stood out in stark contrast against the white bed linen. You knew that the dress fit you perfectly, of course, your mother had made sure of it personally.

The change of dress and hairdressing was an automatic process for you. You only noticed that it was over, when you saw your maid smiling reassuringly at you in the mirror that you sat in front of.

„Thank you, Alanna“, you said, returning her smile as you didn’t want to worry her. You quickly got up from the chair, and smoothed out your dress nervously before taking a few steps to the door. Taking a deep breath, you paused, trying to gather all the courage you had, and then determinedly turned the door knob.

The leather-clad chest you met with was not what you expected when you resolutely stepped over the threshold.

„Ow! What in the Seven- ?“, you started, pressing your hand to your face where a metal clasp had scratched your cheek, feeling two warm hands holding you by your shoulders to steady you.

„My apologies, Lady Barryn!“, came the immediate answer from Prince Aemond. He almost sounded worried.

Had he been waiting in front of your chamber?

Instinctively, he bent forward, trying to inspect your cheek, but you quickly turned your head to the side. Realizing what he was doing, he lowered his gaze; yet the heat of embarrassment rising to his face went unnoticed by you.

Awkwardly wriggling out of his grasp, you asked the first question that was on your mind.

„My Lord, what are you doing here?“ You sounded more rude than you intended. Prince Aemond’s puzzled look only added to your discomfort, as if to ask if you really thought that he couldn’t go anywhere he liked in his home. Though, he caught himself quickly.

„I was waiting for you, dinner is to begin soon“, he said matter-of-factly, the aloof expression back on his face. You looked at him questioningly, this wasn’t explanation enough.

„I thought it to be a good idea to go in together…“, he tried to make you understand. „Seeing as we are – well, this is the first time we will be seen together.“

Oh right, making a good first impression. You were almost grateful to him that he gave you this opportunity. Presenting a united front would provide less target surface to the rest of court. Surely, entering the hall together would be better, than hesitantly going in all by yourself. This still didn’t mean that it changed how you felt towards him, though. You were still peeved that he acted like he knew you, he didn’t know anything about you, and, even worse, you knew nothing about him!

„Alright, we shall go then“, you agreed and turned to the left, keeping your chin up high, leaving Prince Aemond standing behind you.

„Lady Barryn“, he called out lazily, „the hall is in the other direction!“ He wished he didn’t have to add to your mortification, he truly did, everything he had done today only seemed to further your discomfort. But he couldn’t help the smirk that snuck its way onto his face, when he saw you turn around, face red with embarrassment, and scurry past him, a flurry of skirts.

You slowed your steps when the doors of the dining hall came into view. Prince Aemond caught up to you quickly, looking like the picture of relaxation and self-confidence. You came to a halt a few paces in front of the imposing doors.

„You might want to take my hand“, he proposed bluntly, looking straight ahead.

„I shall do no such thing“, came your immediate defiant response.

„Look“, he said sharply, turning towards you. Shooting a quick appraising glance to the guards at the doors, he lowered his voice, so only you could hear. „I know that you are not simple-minded, I saw how quickly you caught yourself in front of my mother, and I know that you know that this first impression is crucial.“ He was so close to you now. In an effort to let only you hear his words, he had bent forward, to match your height. Tentatively, you looked up at him, daring to actually take a closer look at his face now. Your gaze shifted from his eye, down over his straight nose, and getting stuck on his mouth, that was speaking words that you weren’t hearing anymore.

„...and you might also like to call me by my given name, as will I, this will give an impression of us being much closer than we actually are“, he finished nonchalantly, awaiting your response. Apparently, he had invested much thought into his strategy of appearing united. Or at least not hostile towards each other.

His usual smirk came back on his face, when he noticed your spell-bound expression and lack of reaction to his words.

„Of course“, you were quick to murmur, trying to shake the dizziness that had taken you over momentarily.

„Alright then“, he turned to the closed doors determinedly, offering you his hand.

„Absolutely not“, you said, taking his arm instead, putting your hand around it gently. You swore you could see him roll his eye from the corner of your eye.

The dinner had gone as smoothly as you had hoped. As daunting as it was, you felt like you had navigated the situation quite well. Now in bed, you let everything pass through your head again. The presentation to the King had gone well, although in his weakened state, they had only told him the necessary news. He had seemed happy enough for the two of you. Aemond’s siblings – hah, Aemond, you were amazed how quickly you got used to saying only his name, leaving away his title. Well, Aemond’s siblings knew that this wasn’t a love match, however you didn’t think that they saw under the cover their brother and you had come up with. You especially liked his sister Helaena, she seemed very sweet, and you thought that you two might make good friends, over time.

The King’s Hand was there, as well as other people from court. You had tried to make enough polite conversation to not seem suspicious, but not too much as to not let them too close to you, close enough to see that Aemond and you were pretending.

Queen Alicent and your father had seemed honestly pleased seeing you and Aemond „get along“. All in all, you thought that you had put on a good display of affability.

Still, you felt unease at the thought that you couldn’t get through to Aemond. He seemed pleasant enough, but you felt a subliminal trace of menace about him. But surely, you were imagining things. He seemed intent on making the both of you invincible to the sharp-tongued plotting courtiers.

He was the only one who had been willing to help you today.

Relieved, that at least today was dealt with, you nestled into the plush pillows, falling into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.

Chapter Two

#aggiewrites #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd #game of thrones #house of the dragon #aemond fanfiction #prince aemond #aemond x reader #aemond #soulmate au #aemond one eye #hotd aemond

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mint-yooxgi · 2 years ago

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Written in the Stars - Yandere!Idol!Yeosang X Tall!Chubby!Reader

Soft Yandere AU & Idol AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humor, Slow Burn

Pairing: Yeosang X Reader (ft. platonic Ateez ensemble)

Words: 11,875

Warnings: Slow burn. This story is going to be very self indulgent on my part, so please bear with the first few chapters. Jongho is an over excited fanboy. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: So, I decided to just say 'fuck it' and post it anyways! I got too excited and just had to share, so I really hope you all enjoy what I have planned. I have SO much already for this series, and like I said in the warning, it's definitely going to be quite self-indulgent on my part but it IS based off my own dream, so... anyways, as always feedback is greatly appreciated. Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.

Mini Masterlist

A low exhale escapes you through your nose as you stand in line waiting to board the plane. Absentmindedly, your thumb brushes over the front of your passport, your boarding pass tucked neatly inside.

Shifting your weight onto your opposite foot, you adjust the straps of your backpack slung over your shoulders. Despite your best efforts to pack light, the heaviness weighs you down, feeling the corner of your laptop harshly digging into your shoulder blade. Perhaps you should have packed a few more of your books into your checked luggage after all.

It’s not every day that you get to move to South Korea for approximately a year or more, depending on how well writing your next book goes. The decision had been meticulously planned out, seeing as your publisher has arranged a fairly large book signing in the heart of Seoul a few weeks from now.

To say you were pleasantly surprised to learn how well your books are doing in South Korea is an understatement. You were more than happy to agree to it, especially when you have also been personally invited to perform a new piece of writing at one of the many award shows this season. It seems the organizers really appreciate your way with words, and want you to compose a short poem of sorts to encompass the emotions and influence different types of art has around the world.

It seems as if you’ve become a somewhat popular international author within the country, and you are more than happy to attend any and all events they ask you to. Subsequently, the offers were too good to refuse, and you’ve always wanted to move to Seoul for a few years. At least now you have a good reason to stay.

It has taken you years to get to where you are now, but being a well established international author has truly been everything you could have ever asked for. Writing has always been your passion, and you’re just glad that you can share it with the world. With a little extra on the side, of course.

Slowly, the line begins to move in front of you, and you blink to regain your focus. It looks as if they’re finally boarding for zone two, and you honestly just can’t wait to get settled in your seat and sleep. You’re hoping to at least catch a few hours before you attempt to work on a bit of your next book. The idea you’ve been mapping out is a big one, and you’re hoping the words flow just as easily for this one as all of the previous novels you’ve written.

The length of the flight has yet to be determined if it’s your enemy or ally.

Maybe you’ll just watch a few movies instead…

As more and more people advance, you can feel those familiar jitters of excitement coursing through your veins. Every time you visit another place, but especially when it relates to your writing, you cannot hide your eagerness. The adventures you can have are endless, and you honestly cannot wait to see a few of your friends again. Some, you’ll even be meeting for the first time. Well, if their schedules allow.

When you had arrived at the airport, getting through security after checking in had been a little heinous.

First of all, you had a few too many bags, but since you’ll be moving to a completely new country, you need almost all of your things to take with you. Plus, you don’t want your new home to be too empty. You’re just grateful your mother will be sending along a few care packages with some of your bulkier items, like your favourite blankets and a few of your trinkets once you’ve gotten settled in.

Then, came security.

There seemed to be a rumour floating around that some celebrity or something was supposed to be on this same exact flight. A few overheard hushed whispers, and you determined the celebrities to be some Korean pop group. Though, you doubt that’s the case. Despite not really paying attention to the other passengers, you haven’t exactly seen any idols around.

Needless to say, security took longer with all the fans trying to sneak through.

At least you still made it to the gate with plenty of time to spare. You even had some free moments to browse the airport bookstore, noticing a small display of your own books near the front table. The way the workers had stacked your newest release in a mini-pyramid of sorts still makes you smile. The fact that you signed a few of the copies had made the workers’ day, taking a few photos with one of the girls who happened to be a big fan of your work.

Looking back on it now, you cannot help but to grin to yourself as you begin to make your way onto the plane. The worker who scanned your ticket seemed to look on you in awe, brief understanding lighting up their eyes after handing you your passport back. They probably recognized your name, if anything. The fact that you nodded back to them in acknowledgment seemingly made their day.

Truly, this is a dream come true.

Stepping onto the plane, you’re quick to find your seat. You made sure to pick the window of the very last row in premium, as you’ve always enjoyed watching the scenery as you fly. Take off and landings are your favourite parts. Plus, with no one behind you, you can recline without worry or fear that you’re infringing on someone’s personal space.

Luckily, it doesn’t appear that your seat partner has arrived yet, and for that, you’re grateful. Honestly, you hope no one actually sits beside you just so you can have a bit more space to yourself. Plus, it’ll make you more comfortable if you decide to actually get some writing done on the plane.

You’ve always had a sense of paranoia about writing around strangers, given how often people like to snoop. The last thing you want is to be writing some steamy scene, or something completely gruesome, and offend the person you’re sitting beside. Though, you mainly only get that feeling when writing on your laptop.

Sliding your overstuffed bag beneath the seat in front of you, you settle into your own. Your purse gets shoved to the side beside your feet as you unceremoniously kick your backpack as far beneath the seat as it will go.

The joys of premium economy: much needed leg room, and better seating. Though, you can just hear your publisher’s voice in the back of your head, chastising you for not buying business class.

You huff lightly to yourself as you click your seatbelt on. Like hell you’re going to pay something ridiculous, like four grand, in order to have your own private podlike seat. That’s way too much for a one way ticket, and besides, premium is just fine. You’ve been lucky enough to fly it before, anyways.

Settling fully into your seat, you pull out your phone. Unlocking the device, you shoot a quick text to your family letting them know that you’ve just boarded the plane and are waiting for take off.

Of course, they reply quickly, telling you to have a safe flight and that they’ll miss you greatly. Most of all, though, to have fun on your new adventures.

A soft smile paints your features as you tell them that you’ll message them once you land, and if there’s time, phone once you make it to your new apartment. As soon as you see their response in confirmation, you’re turning your phone on airplane mode and grabbing your headphones out of your purse.

Movement from your left catches your attention, and you see a few people settling into the seats near you. You take a moment to assess your new seat buddy before turning back to your phone, plugging in your earbuds without another thought.

Looks like you’ll be sitting next to a guy for the entire flight. Not that you mind, but the last guy you sat beside on a long flight like this tried to talk your ear off about politics and how ‘kids these days don’t have the same respect they used to.’

The worst part? The man didn’t look that much older than you.

Oh well, it could have been worse. It could have also been like that one time you sat beside a lady who told you everything wrong with your first book, and what she would have done to fix it and make it better.

Holding your earbuds in one hand, you scroll through your playlist, searching for a song you want to listen to before putting them in.

From beside you, you can hear some hushed whispering in Korean, each voice distinctly male. The words ‘writer’ and ‘newest book’ catch your attention in-between the bustle of the other passengers boarding the plane, and you nearly let out a sigh.

Just as you go to place your buds in your ears, you hear a gentle voice pull you out of your thoughts.

“Excuse me?” The words are low, cautious, as if he’s unsure of himself. Surprisingly, they’re in English.

Lifting your head, you shift your gaze to the side. The way your eyes blink in mild surprise, caught immediately off guard by who you see sitting beside you, is apparent. Ever so slightly, your breath hitches in your throat.

“Are you…” he trails off, brow furrowing as if he’s searching for the right word in English.

Out of the corner of your vision, you see a face peering out across the aisle from the row in front of you. His hands grip the seat firmly as he angles his body towards both you and the male beside you. Though, from the way his face keeps being blocked by more passengers boarding the plane, what he attempts to whisper to his friend goes unnoticed. At least, by the unsuspecting male. However, at the way you can hear the word ‘author’ lightly cut through the crowd, you grin softly.

“It’s alright, I can speak Korean.” You reply casually.

The way you see the male visibly freeze in his spot, body seemingly relaxing immediately after has you chuckling slightly.

“You do?” The surprise is clear on his features, but he’s quick to hide it in the next second.

“Not very well, but sufficiently enough.” You say. “My Japanese is better.”

You can see the way his brow twitches slightly in acknowledgement, that same look of surprise shining within his gaze.

“Anyways, my friend would like to know if you’re actually the author that wrote this book.” He says, lifting the object slightly in his hand.

An object of which you didn’t even notice before, too wrapped up in your own little world.

Sparing a glance at the book, a soft smile graces your features. For there, resting in his hands, resides a copy of your latest novel from the airport bookstore.

“I am.” You confirm with a small nod.

The male turns back to his left, seemingly having a silent conversation with his friend across the aisle. From his body language alone, you can tell that your seat buddy is slightly exasperated. Especially when his friend looks about ready to lunge across the aisle after the one sitting beside you asks him very lowly if he has to.

The announcement for final boarding call is heard over the speakers, the cabin crew now moving to secure the plane for take off.

You can only quirk a brow in amusement as your seat buddy heaves a tremendous sigh before turning back to face you.

That’s when you notice two more heads popping up over the seats in the middle section, one row in front of you. One sports bright, flaming red locks, while the other has a head full of black hair. They not so subtly peer over the back of their seats, looking in your direction as the one sitting right next to the aisle with bleached locks still has his eyes locked on you.

“I’m so sorry to do this to you; you probably get this a lot,” he sighs, and you can literally feel the death glare the male directly across the aisle from him is sending his way. “But do you think you could sign this for him?”

The plane begins to move. Briefly, you hear a flight attendant tell the three males in the row in front of you that they need to sit properly in order to prepare for take off.

Your brow quirks. “I thought I already did.”

This causes the male across the aisle to practically fall out of his seat as he reaches across to tear the book out of your seat buddy’s hands. You notice that he practically shreds through the front page in order to flip through to where your signature practically shines back up at him.

You notice a vibrant red beginning to creep up his neck as you chuckle lightly.

“I can still add a personalize message, if you’d like?” You lean forward slightly, looking directly past the male sitting beside you.

The way you visibly see the male perk up, practically throwing the book back at the one sitting beside you has a large grin pulling at your features. You can feel your own face heating from this interaction, heart pounding in your chest.

“Flight crew, prepare for take off.” The captains voice is heard over the intercom, and you realize you missed the entire safety demonstration. Not that you haven’t seen it all before.

“That would be great,” the male sitting beside you says, seeing as the other one seems too excited to speak for the moment. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” you smile, reaching down to grab a pen from your bag.

“Excuse me, Miss,” the soft voice of a flight attendant draws your attention to the aisle beside you. “Please remain in an upright position until the plane has left the tarmac.”

“Right, sorry,” you smile sheepishly, a nod to your head.

Turning back to the males beside you once the flight attendant walks away, you pat the cover lightly.

“I’ll sign this as soon as we’re in the air, okay?”Your voice is sweet, holding the book lightly in your lap.

“Thanks again,” the male beside you nods.

“Of course,” you repeat. “It’s not everyday an idol from one of your favourite groups asks you to sign something for them.”

Four heads whip in your direction: the male sitting beside you, the two directly across the aisle from you, and the one who had been turning around to face you one row up. The surprise is clear on their features, and you’d bet anything that the two you saw peeking over their seats earlier would be doing the exact same thing once again if they could.

“You know who we are?” The one from directly across the aisle sounds completely awestruck. “You know who I am?”

“Yes, I do,” you nod gently in his direction, a small grin tugging at your lips. “Choi Jongho from Ateez.”

You swear that this man is about to faint from how red his face goes.

“Right now, though, you’re all just some guys on a plane,” you say. “And we all just so happen to be heading to the same destination.”

A slight whine from the row in front of them draws your attention.

“Joong, tell Yunho to stop kicking the back of my seat!” With the familiar intonation, you can just tell that it’s Wooyoung.

“Well, then stop hopping around.” Said male turns briefly towards his opposite side before turning back to continue observing this interaction between you and the other members.

You huff out a laugh, feeling as the plane begins to accelerate for take off. A moment later, and that familiar sense of weightlessness takes over, signifying you’ve left the ground.

“So, you’re a fan, then.” A statement, rather than a question comes from the man sitting beside you.

“For my part,” you hum, a tender smile pulling at your lips. “I saw you guys in concert a few years ago when you came to my city. You’re all incredible performers.”

You notice all four of them that are still looking at you become a little bashful at your words. Mutters of gratitude escape their lips as they bow their heads in your direction, and you are once again reminded of just how humble this group is.

“Then, you know who all of us are.” Again, another statement leaves the male beside you as he observes you with curious eyes.

“I do indeed know who you are, Kang Yeosang of Ateez.” You repeat your little phrase from earlier. A moment later, you shrug. “It’s like I said, though, right now you’re just some guy.”

A ding sounds, indicating the seatbelt sign going off once you’ve reached altitude. As soon as you hear it, realization flashes across your features, and you lean forward to grab a pen out of your bag.

“So, did you want me to address this to you, or is there a specific nickname you’d like me to use?”You direct your question towards the youngest member sitting across the aisle from you.

“Uh…” Jongho blinks, shifting forward slightly as he undoes his seatbelt. “Nickname?”

“Yeah,” you confirm. “Sometimes people like me signing a term of endearment from one of my books in front of their name, or even instead of their name. I can do that, or something else. Just nothing weird, like ‘Daddy’, or anything like that.”

A head pops up over the seat in front of you. “Someone’s asked you to sign a book for them addressed to ‘Daddy’?”

“Oh, hello, Song Mingi from Ateez.” You blink in mild surprise.

“Hello.” A subtle nod and an immediate look of meekness crosses his features. Almost as if he couldn’t help but pop up and join in on this conversation with you.

“I thought we were all just some guys to you right now?” Yunho quirks a brow at you from down the row.

“Listen, this is the only way I know how to-“ you search for the right word, looking up at the ceiling of the cabin all the while. A slight tilt of your head in realization is the only sign they get that you’ve thought of the word, “dispel my excitement for the moment. I’m pretty sure my heart is about to burst from how furiously it’s racing right now.”

You see Seonghwa poke his head around the edge of his seat to look at you. Only, you see him flinch in the next second, slowly shifting so he’s now peering over the top of his seat just as Mingi does.

Looks like Hongjoong didn’t like the fact that his sight was being blocked.

“I think the feeling is mutual,” at the way you see Yeosang motion towards Jongho with his head, you crack a grin.

“So,” you catch the last dregs of the glare Jongho sends Yeosang’s way before the youngest is meeting your gaze once more. “Nickname?”

Knowing grins tug at a few of the male’s faces around you, Yunho nudging Jongho teasingly in his side.

Again, the youngest shoots a pointed look at the male on his opposite side before turning to look at you. Red begins to creep up his neck as he averts his gaze to the floor before continuously flicking it up to meet your own.

“I’ve always liked ‘Darling’,” he admits, and you notice how Yunho nudges him teasingly while more of the guys shoot him knowing grins.

This time, it’s your turn for your cheeks to heat as you hum. “How fitting.”

Flipping open to the page with your signature, you twirl the pen in your fingers once. A moment later, and you’re scribbling out a message.

To My Darling Jongho,

The stars look up to you. Keep shining!

Signing it off with a ‘Your Fan’, you’re quick to add your name. However, before you hand it back to him, you add a little note at the bottom.

P.S. You have a lovely voice.

Adding a small smiley face, you’re quick to cap your pen and shut the front cover.

The moment you hand the book to Yeosang to pass back to Jongho, you notice a few of the other members sliding back into their seats. The youngest eagerly snatches the book back from the elder, opening to the page with your signature on it without a second of hesitation. The way you see him visibly shake in excitement, a large smile stretching onto his features warms your heart.

There’s a part of you that really wants to ask him about his favourite characters, and what he’s thought about your books, but you hold off for now. You wouldn’t exactly start a conversation with him otherwise, and you don’t want to bother him too much. Besides, he seems far too content to pull out the Korean translation of your previous book from his bag shortly afterwards.

Figuring he wants to read, you turn back to face the seat in front of you. Leaning down, you go to put your pen away, kicking your bag lightly back beneath the seat.

“Yeosang,” you hear a harsh whisper from your left. “Switch seats with me.”

A moment of silence where you notice the aforementioned male shoot a disinterested look towards Jongho.

“No.”

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Jongho practically seethes, a frown tugging at his features. “I swear to god, Yeosang, I will split you in half like an apple.”

“Yes, I’m sure your favourite author would love to sit beside a man who just threatened to snap me like a twig.” Yeosang deadpans, reclining his seat back as far as it will go.

You’re about to make a comment on the situation, torn between jokingly saying that that’s actually kind of hot, or telling them that you don’t mind at all, when a voice draws your attention from in front of you.

“So,” it’s Seonghwa, peeking over the top of his seat once more. His hands grip the headrest, and you cannot see his mouth, but the way his wide eyes shine as they look towards you nearly makes you swoon. “Who’s your bias?”

You notice that this catches all of the member’s attention, and you suddenly sink back into the seat you’re in. That is, until you quirk your brow, a teasing grin causing the corners of your lips to twitch upwards.

“My ult?” You tilt your head. “I think I’m very explicit about it being Lee Taemin.”

You can visibly see the way his shoulders deflate at your words, and you briefly look around at all of the males that now seem to be peering at you from over their seats.

“No,” Seonghwa practically whines. “Of the group!”

“Which group?” The expression you wear is nothing short of amused as you see Seonghwa begin to pout before you.

If someone had told you that you’d be making the Park Seonghwa from Ateez pout because you wouldn’t tell him your bias from his group, you would have laughed in their face. Even more so when you notice Hongjoong staring at you with a mildly pointed look in your direction. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear that he’s almost daring you to say that it’s anyone else but him.

“Our group, of course!” He frowns, leaning the slightest bit forward to rest his chin on top of his hands as he watches you carefully.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice San lean into Wooyoung from a row ahead.

“Has she answered her bias yet?” The male not so subtly whispers to the younger.

“Shh, not yet.” Wooyoung hisses back. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”

“Who’s your bias in Ateez?” Mingi is the one to ask you this time, and you shift your attention to him for the moment.

Again, your cheeks flare with heat.

“Now, isn’t that the million dollar question?” You breathe, letting out a chuckle as you grab your phone in your hand once more. “Nah, sorry boys. If you want that answer out of me, you at least have to buy me a drink first.”

“Is your bias your lockscreen?” Jongho asks, an eager gleam in his eyes as the males closest to you now divert their gazes to your phone held in your hand.

“My lockscreen definitely takes priority,” you grin knowingly, and you watch them all eagerly lean in to catch a glimpse of the photo. “Since I won’t have wifi for such a long time, I always change it to a list of things I should probably get done on the plane."

Clicking the side button reveals said list on your screen.

A collective sigh of defeat is heard from the males around you as you chuckle. Only, in the next moment, your brow furrows.

“Wait, how do you know I usually keep one of my biases as my lockscreen?” You turn towards Jongho.

“Lucky guess?” He shrugs, another blush creeping up his neck.

“He started screaming about it during one of your lives once someone translated your remark.” Yeosang casually states, shifting slightly in his seat to get more comfortable as he settles in for a nap.

You swear that were it not for the way another passenger walks by to use the restroom, Jongho would have lunged at the male sitting beside you.

Still, you cannot help the way your eyes shine in awe. “You watch my lives?”

Jongho avoids your gaze, fumbling over his words for the moment. His hands nervously toy with the pages of the book in his lap, and you nearly coo at how bashful he suddenly looks.

“When he can.” Yunho supplies for him with a soft smile. “Sometimes Hongjoong and I watch, too. It helps when Joong can translate some of the things you say.”

Your heart skips a beat in your chest at the implication, and you cannot keep the hopefulness out of your voice. “You guys have read my books, too?”

“Even if it weren’t for Jongho ranting and raving over your writing, our other friends are pretty persistent.” Hongjoong replies, a soft smile pulling at his features. “You’re very popular back home.”

“Yeah, Changbin told me that Felix recommended him this book, so he just had to tell me about it.” Wooyoung supplies.

“Members of Stray Kids have also read my novels?” You say, though with how lowly you whisper it, it’s more to yourself in awe.

“I know! I was surprised, since Bin will barely even look at books half the time,” Wooyoung laughs, eyes crinkling in joy.

“You’d be surprised by how many of us read your novels.” Yunho hums, settling back in his own seat for the moment.

“Wow,” you breathe. “Honestly, it’s something I always think about, but I still never expect it. The only idol I know for sure that reads my books is Mark Lee of NCT.”

“Oh, yeah, we didn’t hear the end of that for weeks,” San calls out over his chair, shooting a look towards Jongho.

“‘Why can’t we get personalized signed copies of her books?’” Wooyoung imitates the youngest, nearly getting shoved out of his chair in response.

“I’d send her a full on review along with our albums if she gave me a chance,” Hongjoong laughs, receiving a harsh kick from Jongho to the back of his seat.

“Remember the one time he said he’d serenade her?” Yunho supplies, a fond chuckle falling from his lips.

Jongho instantly wraps his one arm around Yunho’s throat, pulling the taller man into his side as the elder hunches over uncomfortably. “Want to die?”

You cannot help the way you laugh, eyes falling shut as you lean back in your seat. Your one hand rests over your chest as you catch your breath, blinking away your tears of joy shortly after. The scene is much too comical for you not to react, anyways.

The moment your vision clears, you notice Yeosang having turned to face you. He wears a somewhat neutral expression, but his eyes are soft, a hint of awe residing within.

You chalk it up to him just being tired.

“You really said you’d serenade me?” Your inquiry is tender, nothing but a sense of wonder pulling at your features as you lean forward to look his way.

Slowly, he releases the chokehold he has on Yunho, nodding lightly all the while.

“That’s honestly so sweet, oh my goodness,” your one hand comes up to cup the side of your face as you tilt your head to the side.

The way Jongho’s eyes begin to shine as he meets you gaze says it all.

A moment later, and your attention is being drawn to the male peering his head over his seat in front of you.

“You like anime, right?” Mingi has an eager look on his face, arms crossed over the back of his seat as he rests his chin on top of them.

“I do indeed!” You reply, an excited gleam sparking in your gaze.

“Uh-oh,” Hongjoong says. “This is going to take a while.”

“Shut up,” Mingi frowns, turning his suddenly harsh gaze towards Hongjoong for a moment before turning back to you with an eager grin. “Which one’s your favourite?”

“Definitely Jujutsu Kaisen, but Naruto will always hold a special place in my heart since I’ve loved it since childhood.” You reply. “Haikyuu will also forever be my comfort series.”

You see him nodding along to your every word.

“What about you?” You reply, blinking lightly up at him.

“I really love Demon Slayer,” he replies, a giddiness to his tone.

“Oh yeah, the animation for that series is beautiful,” you nod along to his words. “I also remember when Atiny’s went feral for your Rengoku hair. Now, that was a look.”

You swear the male nearly tumbles out of his seat as his lips part in awe. A subtle blush begins to tint his ears, as he smiles bashfully in your direction.

“Thank you,” his voice is soft. That is, until his sharp gaze is locking on the male sitting beside you. “Hey, Yeosang-“

Pointedly, the male turns away from you, pretending to be asleep.

“I don’t think any of us are going to get him to move any time soon,” Hongjoong chuckles. “Anyways, sorry for bothering you.”

“Not at all!” You shake your head, a kind smile tugging at your features. “Honestly, this has made my entire week.”

“Likewise,” Jongho breathes, and you turn your smile towards him.

“Oh, wait,” you lean forward, pulling out your backpack and riffling through it in the next minute. Once you have what you’re looking for in hand, your eyes are lighting up, pulling the item out of your bag quickly. “The translation isn’t due to drop for another month, but they sent me some early copies. I’d like you to have this one.”

Carefully, you reach over a somewhat asleep Yeosang to hand Jongho the book in your hands. You can see his own shaking as he grabs the novel from you, a look of complete awe on his features.

“Thank you,” he meets your gaze. “I’ve been waiting for this one to drop since you announced it. It’s why I bought the English version.”

“I do that, too, with a bunch of my manga. I think I have at least four copies of volume four of Jujutsu Kaisen just for the one panel alone.” You chuckle.

“Not the cover?” Mingi quirks a brow.

“Oh, god no.” Your face scrunches in distaste. “Kakashi two-point-oh is most definitely not a character I like. I’ll stick with the original, thank you very much.”

From beside you, you notice Yeosang’s shoulders start to shake with mild laughter.

“Anyways,” you chuckle. “That’s a topic for another day.”

The way you see Mingi visibly pout as he sinks back into his seat has the corner of your lips quirking upwards. A second later, and you’re turning your attention back to Jongho on your left.

“I hope you enjoy the book, it’s definitely darker than some of the other ones I’ve written.” You comment.

At this, you notice Hongjoong’s brow quirk. “Darker, you say?”

“Twisted, if you will.” You shrug a shoulder casually.

“Hey, Jongho, once you’re finished with that, let me borrow it.” Hongjoong turns to the aforementioned male who already seems to have begun reading your book.

Jongho’s eyes flash, protectively hugging the novel to his chest. “Get your own.”

The two males begin bickering over your book, and you notice how the other members have all settled back into their seats. You decide to get comfortable in your own, leaving the conversation at that for now as you put in your headphones. A moment later, and you’re putting on one of your softer playlists to help you fall asleep. It works, too, for in no time at all, you’re succumbing to the realm of dreams.

Of course, it doesn’t last too long, for the flight attendants come around offering drinks shortly after. The meals are served following that, and then finally, you’re able to sink back into the comfort of sleep once more.

A few hours later, you wake to more hushed whispers coming from your left. It sounds as if Jongho is attempting to convince Yeosang to switch seats with him once more, much to the elder’s annoyance.

“I said, ‘no’,” Yeosang grumbles, his arms crossed over his chest.

“But I want to ask her about her new novel,” Jongho whines.

“Ask her some other time,” Yeosang huffs out a breath. “She’s sleeping.”

Jongho leaves it at that, but when you crack open your eyes to assess the situation, you notice he’s already almost halfway through the book you’ve given him. A large pout rests on his features as he pointedly flips back to the page he had last been on, continuing to read without another word.

After about another hour where you fall in and out of sleep, you decide that you’re too restless for the moment to succumb to the land of dreams. Adjusting yourself in your seat, you make sure not to disturb the resting male beside you. Leaning forward, you shuffle a few things around as you grab a notebook and a pen from your bag.

Might as well get a little bit of writing done.

The lighting inside the plane is low, but you’ll make do. The last thing you want is to disturb the people around you, and besides, it’s not like you can’t see anything. It’s no different than all of those nights you used to spend when you were younger sitting in the dark staring at your laptop’s screen as you wrote until the first glimpses of the sun’s rays peeked through your windows.

Turning to a blank page, you let out a small sigh through your nose.

Now, where to begin?

Quirking a brow, you smirk to yourself, putting the pen to paper.

Before you know it, two hours have passed and you’ve written a fair amount for the opening of your new book. Sitting upright reveals just how stiff your neck has gotten, bringing a hand up to gently begin massaging at the muscles as you stretch it out lightly. A moment later, and a few satisfying pops can be heard as you crack it, and subsequently, your back.

The way you notice Yeosang spare a look at you out of the corner of his eyes has you smiling sheepishly. “Sorry.”

You begin to close your notebook before a final idea strikes you, scribbling the little note to yourself for later. Once done, you tuck it away, pulling out your laptop shortly after.

A brief silence settles over you as you place your laptop onto the little tray you’re using. That is, until a soft voice from beside you draws your attention.

“You have nice handwriting.”

Your entire body freezes, turning to blink at the male in shock.

“Do you always write everything out before typing it?” Yeosang meets your gaze, a mild curiosity lingering in his tone.

Slowly, you shake your head. “Not usually. I just prefer writing things out like this when I’m in public. I always feel like my screen is a giant ‘Look Here’ sign when I use my laptop. That, and you were sleeping. I didn’t want to disturb you with the light.”

“I thought I was ‘just some guy’ to you?” He quirks a brow, completely misinterpreting your words for the moment.

“You are.” You confirm. “I would extend the same curtesy towards anyone.”

“But not right now?” He quirks a brow, eyes briefly darting down to the way you open your laptop.

“You’re awake now, and I think I’ve earned myself a few episodes of Jujutsu Kaisen after actually getting some writing done.” You say. “Besides, my hand hurts from gripping the pen so tightly.”

“Oh?” The corner of his lips twitches upwards as he notices you stretching your writing hand out by curling and uncurling your fingers periodically.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Jongho nearly at the end of your book. His body is angled towards you, gaze flitting above the top of the pages every so often to check if you’ll notice him or not. At the way you smile tenderly his way, he’s quick to hide his face behind the pages once more.

“It’s a bad habit I have,” you shrug, setting up your screen with the first episode. “It’s one of the reasons I prefer typing. That, and both spellcheck, and the fact that I can type faster than I can handwrite.”

“I see.” He hums.

You blink, a subtle heat rising to your cheeks. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”

“Not at all.” He smiles politely. “I asked, anyways. Think of it as the mere curiosities of a stranger.”

“Well then, stranger,” you grin slightly, a playful gleam to your eyes as you properly introduce yourself. “It’s nice to meet you.”

An amused grin tugs at the corner of his lips as he introduces himself to you, following along with your antics for the moment. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

“There,” you nod once, quite firmly at that, too, “Now we’re not strangers.”

“No,” he hums, “I suppose not.”

Turning back to your screen, you are more than content to leave the conversation at that. A moment later, and the familiar sight of the first episode of Jujutsu Kaisen pops up on your laptop, allowing yourself to connect your headphones before pressing play. You get about five minutes into the episode before you begin to feel eyes on you.

Shifting your gaze, you notice Yeosang glancing towards you, and then your screen every few seconds. Carefully, you shift your laptop in his direction so he can see the screen better, and you notice him stiffen slightly in his spot.

You chuckle lightly, silently offering him one of your earbuds.

You don’t even have to look at him to see the way he glances from that small item held in your hand, to your face and back a few times before accepting the offer wordlessly. A press of a few buttons and Korean subtitles appear at the bottom of the screen.

You can see the shock clear on his face as he places the bud in his ear.

“What?” You laugh. “Expecting English?”

He blinks. “Yeah, actually.”

“I think I mentioned my Japanese being better than my Korean,” you hum.

“Your Korean sounds fine to me.” He comments.

A warmth blooms on your cheeks as you divert your gaze to the screen.

“Thank you,” nothing more than a mumble escapes you.

“Why? Do you think you’re not speaking well?” He asks, the anime playing on in the background.

“I used to be friends with a girl who always harped on me for my pronunciation, so it made speaking all the more difficult for me.” You admit softly. “Which is really ironic, when she always complained about people correcting her when she was younger.”

“Harped?” His brow furrows. “How so?”

“She would always make fun of the way I would say stuff,” your nose scrunches in distaste as you recall the memories. “I would learn something new, and the first words out of her mouth would be something like, ‘you really think it’s pronounced like that? You sound like a Koreaboo.’”

His eyebrows raise significantly, “Koreaboo?”

“Yeah,” you confirm, turning your head to meet his gaze only to realize just how close he is to you due to the fact that you’re sharing headphones. A warmth blooms once more on your cheeks. “Ironic, since she wasn’t even Korean to begin with, yet she was correcting my pronunciation.”

“Was she a language teacher?” His brow furrows.

“Not even,” you sigh, shaking your head lightly.

“She sounds like a bitch,” he comments, shifting his gaze to your screen.

You spare a glance at him out of the corner of your eyes. “She was.”

“Well, I think your pronunciation is really good,” he says, somewhat nonchalantly.

You wish you could prevent the way your eyes light up. “Really?”

A soft smile graces his features. “Really.”

“Thank you.” Shyly, you avert your gaze back to your laptop, shifting slightly in your seat.

He smiles kindly at you in response, turning back to the show as well.

About two minutes go by before he’s breaking it again.

“So, how come you have Korean subtitles to a Japanese anime?” He inquires, a hint of curiosity leaking through in his voice.

“Well, back to the language conversation,” you begin, “I had always wanted to learn more than one, but every time I went to study, my mind just wouldn’t retain the information. Except for Japanese. So, originally, I wanted to learn Korean first, but it just wasn’t working out well for me. Another fact she harped on me for: my memory. Anyways, I realized I could remember things better in Japanese, so once I learned that, I learnt Korean from Japanese.”

Yeosang hums, clearly impressed. “I see.”

“It was easier to pick up phrases and stuff with Korean subtitles to my favourite shows, so I made the switch,” you go on to say, tapping the edge of your laptop with your finger lightly. “I still use English subtitles if my brain gets too tired, though.”

“Makes sense,” he nods. “Do you watch dramas?”

“On occasion,” your tone is light, a small hum to your words. “I’m really bad at finishing a series though. I tend to start one, and then not touch it for years before going back to it. I still think I have a few episodes of Goblin left. Which is really ironic considering I referenced the reaper in one of my first published series.”

“You did?” He sounds quite surprised, but curious, nonetheless.

“I did.” You confirm with a chuckle. “I make reference to a lot of things I like in my stories. Music, movies, shows, characters, you name it.”

“What’s the thing you reference the most?” He asks, resting his elbow on the arm of his seat in order to lean his head in his hand.

“Probably The Lord of the Rings,” you chuckle. “I love that series.”

“I don’t think I’ve properly seen it.” He admits.

“Really?” You look at him skeptically. “Forgetting that you’re just some guy for a moment, but you literally have a song called The Ring where you make reference to it in the final lines.”

The somewhat sheepish shrug he gives you makes you laugh.

“Alright, fair enough,” you grin. “If you ever get a chance, you should watch it. The extended editions, though. There’s no other way to properly watch those films in my opinion. You get so much more out of them that way.”

“Oh, really?” He hums, amusement dancing in his eyes as he quirks a brow.

“Literal cinematic masterpieces.” You continue. “There’s so many cool behind the scenes facts and tidbits I could tell you, but I don’t want to subject you to that right now.”

“Why not?” His question clearly catches you by surprise.

“I don’t know if you’d be interested,” you shrug, blinking in the next second. “I do also have the movies saved on my laptop, but again, I won’t subject you to that. They’re long as hell, especially if you’ve never seen them before.”

“Ah, so binging them all at once isn’t a good idea.” He nods in understanding.

“Oh, no, you could totally do that, but it’s like, thirteen hours or so.” You say. “Definitely worth it if you make a day out of it, though, Watching them back to back really immerses you in the story.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, then.” He smiles. “They’re based on books, aren’t they?”

The way your eyes instantly light up does not go unnoticed by him.

“They are!” You reply enthusiastically. “They’re honestly one of my favourite series both in film and on paper, but I wouldn’t go around recommending people the book series.”

“Why’s that?” He inquires, tilting his head slightly in curiosity.

“They’re dry as fuck,” you say, and you notice his eyebrows raising in amusement at your description. “Listen, they’re not for everybody. Even I usually take years to get through the first book when I read the series. It’s a very tedious journey, but if you enjoy fantasy, they’re a key staple to read. In any language. At least, in my opinion.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he smiles softly, and again, you can feel your whole body heating in embarrassment.

“Sorry, I tend to ramble about the things I really like.” You avert your gaze, fingers suddenly toying with one another in your lap.

“I don’t mind at all.” He’s quick to assure you, eyes crinkling gently in the corners.

A soft smile pulls at your lips as you keep your gaze fixed on your hands for the moment. You can still feel him looking at you for a few seconds longer before he diverts his gaze back to the screen.

The both of you sit in silence for a few minutes as the anime continues to play. By now, the second episode has started, and the corner of your lips quirks upwards as you watch the familiar interactions between the characters. You could probably recite both the original Japanese lines, and the English subtitles by now given how many times you’ve watched it.

A loud gasp from across the aisle draws your attention.

“Holy fuck!” It’s Jongho.

“What? What is it?” The somewhat panicked voice of Hongjoong reaches your ears as you see both him and Seonghwa leaning towards the youngest from the row ahead.

The younger male turns to you, his eyes wide and his lips parted in shock.

“You-“ he blinks, “I-“ he tightens his hold on the now completed book in his hands, “the twist!”

You grin. “I told you it was dark.”

“I just knew it. The way he was acting when he got back to the room was too suspicious.” Jongho mumbles, flipping through some of the pages to quickly reread certain lines. “It was there all along!”

“Some of the best advice I’ve ever gotten about writing is that plot twists shouldn’t catch you suddenly off guard. The best ones are hinted at throughout, and if the reader can pick up on them, you’re doing a good job of laying out the clues.” You chuckle fondly at how eager he listens to you. Even the others look on you in mild awe. “Granted, you don’t want it to be too obvious.”

“It definitely wasn’t,” Jongho shakes his head, as if to reassure you. “It was all paced perfectly.”

“Thank you,” a brilliant, albeit bashful smile takes over your features, and again, you feel Yeosang looking at you out of the corner of his eyes. “I’m glad to hear you liked it.”

“Liked it?” Jongho looks about ready to vibrate out of his seat from his excitement. “I loved it!”

Once more, you thank him lowly, that smile never leaving your features. A warmth blooms in your chest from his words, and the fact that you can see him immediately opening the book back to the first page to begin rereading it has a happiness unlike any other building within. The way Hongjoong starts to pester Jongho about letting him borrow the book has you wiggling your toes to expel some of your giddiness.

You’re just about to offer the leader of Ateez his own copy when a voice from your immediate left draws your attention.

“Who’s your favourite character?” Yeosang blinks once before turning his attention to you from the screen.

“Huh?” You blink back at him, clearly caught off guard by his inquiry. For a moment, you think he’s asking you about your favourite character from your new book.

“Of the show,” he jerks his chin in the direction of your laptop where you see episode two finishing up for the time being.

“Oh,” you tilt your head in acknowledgement, noticing a familiar male peering over the top of the seat in front of you once more. Your cheeks flare with heat. “Probably Sukuna, but Toji is a close second.”

At the way Yeosang quirks his brow at you, you’re quick to continue.

“Look, my taste in fictional men is questionable at best,” you comment, shifting slightly in your seat. “Don’t ask me why I have a thing for the psychopaths, but I do. Bonus points if they have red hair.”

You notice Hongjoong quirk a brow out in your direction of the corner of your eye, only for him to quickly turn to the male sitting to his left. A moment later, and he returns to his previous position, Wooyoung popping his head over the seat to grin smugly in your direction. You simply raise both eyebrows curiously.

“So, you like red hair?” The smug grin Wooyoung wears says it all.

“I enjoy the colour, yes, but it’s not my favourite.” You confirm, noticing how the male wiggles his brows suggestively at you. “The colour suits you very well, yes.”

“Good thing he’s not a psychopath,” Seonghwa mumbles.

“Debatable,” Hongjoong sighs, and you nearly laugh.

“Then, what are your favourite colours?” Yeosang inquires, blinking at you innocently.

“Hair wise?” At the nod you receive, you hum, thinking it over for a moment before answering. “For some reason, I definitely have an affinity towards bleached hair. I love the look of blond locks. Bonus points if it’s long and the roots are starting to grow in slightly. My absolute favourite is lavender, though. As much as I love Taemin’s blond hair, his lavender hair gets me every time. Jeonghan from Seventeen also had really nice lavender locks, and they were long, too. Oh, and special shout out to skunk dyes.”

The way they all stare at you has you immediately shrinking into your seat. Even more so when you see Wooyoung grinning at you like a maniac from a little ways away.

“Sorry, I’m rambling again.” You chuckle nervously. “Here I am talking to literal idols about this stuff when we’re not even friends.”

The boys all share a brief look with one another.

“We could be.” It’s Hongjoong that offers, the others nodding along softly in agreement.

To say his words catch you off guard would be an understatement, and you have just enough time to compose yourself so that you’re no longer staring at him, dumbfounded.

A blink, and a soft smile pulls onto your features. “I’d like that very much.”

A phone is nearly flung at your face, were it not for the way Yeosang quickly catches it midair.

“Jongho, calm down!” Yeosang harshly whispers to the younger beside him, gaze sharp as he shoots a pointed glare towards the male.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Jongho looks absolutely mortified when you turn to look at him.

“It’s alright,” you chuckle. “Honestly, not the worst thing that has been thrown at me before.”

The way they all look at you in confusion at you has shrugging a shoulder casually.

“When I worked at a bookstore on the operations team, I can’t count the amount of things that either got thrown at me by accident, or fell on me.” You say casually. “Books are also much heavier than phones.”

“I would imagine,” Hongjoong chuckles along with you. “Do you have kaotalk?”

“I do,” you nod in confirmation. “Though, we might have to wait until we land to exchange information. No wifi and all.”

“Ah, right,” you see his head tilt in acknowledgement.

A small pout pulls onto Jongho’s features as Yeosang hands the youngest his phone back.

“Then, we’ll exchange information once we land.” Mingi grins widely, practically shaking in excitement in his seat.

“Sounds good to me.” You grin right back, heart racing inside of your chest.

If someone would have told you that you’d not only be on the same flight as Ateez, but befriending them on said flight, you would have told them to stop fantasizing. However, truly being in this situation feels so unreal, even as you watch them all settle back into their seats with smiles on their faces.

“Thanks,” you mumble.

Yeosang quirks a brow.

“For catching that.”

“No problem.” The corner of his lips twitches upwards.

“So,” you shoot a look at him out of the corner of your eyes, noticing how the anime has been continuing to play in the background this whole time. “Who’s your favourite character?”

“In this?” He motions to your screen with a jerk of his chin.

“Yeah.” You nod.

“Don’t know. I’ve never seen it before.” He replies casually, and your eyes nearly bulge right out of your head.

“You’ve never seen it before?” Your voice is full of disbelief as you look towards him once more. At the shake of his head, you’re quick to restart the third episode, muttering to yourself about talking over the show this whole time.

“It’s okay,” Yeosang chuckles. “I’m used to the chaos.”

You quirk a brow. “Are you, now?”

“Yes.” he deadpans, turning his head to shoot you a pained smile with a thumbs up in the next second. “I thrive in it."

You cannot help yourself. A loud, boisterous laugh escapes you, your eyes crinkling in joy. A fact which is only emphasized when Yeosang begins to chuckle along with you, only to steel his face and nod solemnly every time he notices you peering over at him.

The way he grins right along with you as you finally calm yourself down from laughing so hard says it all. Not even the way you can see Jongho flicking his gaze towards you from over his book, a clear pout on his features can pull you out of this moment right now.

For the rest of the plane ride, you either watch more episodes of Jujutsu Kaisen with Yeosang, or talk lowly with him. The conversations are somewhat short, but calm nonetheless. They mainly consist of one of you asking the other a simple question, and going from there. Truly, two strangers just passing the time and enjoying the other’s company, rather than sitting in silence.

At one point, you manage to fall asleep again, only to be woken up by the announcement that the plane is now beginning its decent into Seoul. The way you notice your laptop has gently been closed, your headphone wrapped up and sitting neatly on top of it makes you smile softly.

Stretching as much as you can, you move to put your laptop away. You keep your headphones out, just in case you want to listen to music for the last little bit of your journey. Then, once you’ve settled back into your seat, you turn your head to the side.

Gazing out of the window, nothing but pure excitement shines within your eyes. It’s finally time, and as soon as you land, you feel as if everything will truly fall into place.

You can feel someone’s gaze on you every now and then. You figure it’s either Jongho watching you out of the corner of his eyes like you’ve noticed he likes to do, or Yeosang looking out of the window with you. Thus, you opt to sit back as far in your seat as you can, giving the male the perfect view to observe the ground getting closer and closer with each passing second. He’s probably missed his home more than you could ever imagine.

The moment the plane touches the ground, you cannot help the way your breath hitches in your throat. The small bounce of the wheels hitting the tarmac only serves to solidify to you that this is real. You’ve truly moved to Seoul for a year, and you have many adventures planned already to come. Starting with that award’s show, of course.

Turning your phone back on cellular for the moment, you’re quick to shoot a text to your family letting them know you’ve landed and arrived safely. It’s now early morning for them, so you’re not expecting a message back for at least another few hours. You also need to get a new data plan for the year you’ll be living in Seoul, so you add that to the mental list of things you need to do already forming in your head.

Five minutes later, and you’ve been taxied to the gate, the other passengers beginning to disembark. Honestly, you can’t wait to get off of this plane and stretch your legs. Your few trips to the bathroom did nothing to help. Besides, you can’t wait to get to your place and shower.

Holding your bags in your lap, you watch as Yeosang steps out into the aisle. Only, he pauses, motioning for you to go ahead of him.

“Ladies first.”

You smile politely, thanking him lowly as you step out of the row and begin to disembark the plane. You get about two steps onto the gate when Jongho steps in beside you, as if he was eager to follow you out.

“Holy shit, you are tall.” His awestruck voice reaches your ears.

An amused glance is sent his way out of the corner of your eyes.

“And the most common phrase said by males I meet goes to…” you huff out a laugh, seeing as he continues to scan you from head to toe, noticing how you stand a few inches taller than him.

A red hue begins to creep up his neck and onto the tips of his ears. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

“No, no,” you wave him off with another laugh. “It’s just funny when no one believes you are the height you say you are. Used to happen all the time when I tried dating apps.”

“What do you mean?” Yunho steps in on your other side, and you notice Yeosang walking beside him. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say the shorter male looks slightly irritated. Though, from the way you notice him loop around to begin chasing Jongho, you know that the younger must have done something before exiting the plane.

“Well, where I come from, it’s really common for guys to add their heights to their profile. Which is really funny, when they are usually the ones that lie about it.” You explain, heading towards customs with the crowd from the flight for the moment. “So, I always found it funny when I would tell the people I matched with my height, or when they would ask about it, only to not believe me. Then, whenever we would meet, I would be significantly taller than Jeremy who proclaimed himself to be ‘six-foot three’.”

You see Yunho nod beside you, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Got even more prominent when I started doing signings and people would stand near me.” You comment. “Not to mention the guys that would need to ‘prove’ how tall I was whenever they would bring their books up to be signed. On the other hand, though, it’s really cute to see so many people get flustered by it. Female presenting people and non-binary people especially. Though, I will never forget the fans who always ask me to cosplay Lady Dimitrescu from Resident Evil Eight.”

“You’ve cosplayed Lady Dimitrescu?” Mingi attempts to hide his excitement with a clearing of his throat as he steps into the space once occupied by Jongho.

“I’ve thought about it,” you hum, stepping into the line to get through customs with him, Yunho, Yeosang, and Jongho right behind you. Looks like the others are a little ways ahead already. “Maybe one day I will.”

“I fully support whatever decision you choose to make.” Jongho nods, enthusiastically.

“Just say you want her to step on you and be done with it,” Yeosang sighs, crossing his arms over his chest.

The way the younger lunges for the elder has a laugh escaping you, especially when the two males start bickering and slapping each other’s sides.

“If you want me to step on you that badly, I have one condition,” you joke, stepping up to the front seeing as you’re the next person in line. At the way you seem to now have all four of their undivided attention on you now, you grin, feeling your cheeks beginning to heat. “Suffocate me with your thighs, first.”

Each male doesn’t even have time to respond before you’re being called over to the customs officer, but you definitely catch their stunned reactions. The way you see Jongho nearly fall over, his face turning bright red and looking like he might spontaneously combust has your shoulders shaking in laughter.

The other three aren’t fairing much better. Yeosang’s eyes look about ready to pop out of his head with how wide they’ve gone. Additionally, both Mingi’s and Yunho’s mouths part, subtle blushes of their own creeping to their cheeks before the eldest is clearing his throat. They don’t have much time to dwell on your comment, for they each get called up to their own customs officer to get through to baggage claim soon after.

Getting through customs doesn’t take too long, and before you know it, you’re standing in front of the terminal waiting for your bags to come through. You didn’t necessarily spot any of the other guys, but you haven’t really been looking out for them, either. That is, until you see a blur of red approaching you from the side.

Wooyoung hops right up beside you, stopping short as a look of complete shock crosses his features. “Woah.”

Sparing a glance out of the corner of your eyes, you notice his gaze scan your figure. He begins looking around the ground at your feet, as if to spot whatever it is you must be standing on to make you that much taller than he is. Once he finds none, his awestruck gaze is back on your face.

“Wooyoung, I thought I told you to wait for us,” Hongjoong’s exasperated voice reaches your ears.

Turning your head, you see all of the guys now walking towards you, a few of their staff in tow.

“I’m so sorry, has he been pestering you?” A male, whom you’re assuming is their manager, addresses you.

“Not at all,” you shake your head, a slight grin tugging at your features. “I think I might have broken him, though.”

At your words, all heads turn towards a stunned Wooyoung, his mouth gaping like a fish. He blinks a few times, a dopey grin tugging onto his features soon after as his face begins to turn as red as his hair.

“Wooyo, are you okay?” It’s San who asks, coming up to stand beside the male still blinking at you.

A second later and Wooyoung starts giggling like a maniac, “tall lady. Pretty, tall lady. Pretty and tall lady.”

“Okay, I think someone needs more sleep.” Yunho gently guides the muttering male away from you with the help of San.

“Sorry about him,” Hongjoong chuckles, stepping in beside you.

You notice Yeosang standing on your opposite side, not saying a word. Though, you can feel the way he glances towards you out of the corner of his eyes every now and then.

The terminal begins moving, signifying the start of baggage claim for your flight.

“Anyways, should we exchange Kaotalk’s now?” Hongjoong asks, his phone already held in his hand.

“Sure!” You reply, shifting to grab your phone out of your pocket. A few moments later and you’re holding your screen to him with your Kaotalk code on full display. “Here you go.”

The way his eyes light up has you smiling, and you notice the others all pulling out their own phones to add you as well.

“Feel free to message me anytime,” you smile, already feeling your phone vibrate in your hand with a new message.

However, before you can even check who has messaged you, a voice from your left catches your attention.

“Don’t forget about me.” Yeosang blinks up at you as you turn to face him.

You smile softly. “I could never forget about you.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you’ve just made him blush. The way he averts his gaze, focussing so intently on your phone to make sure he’s added you correctly only confirms your suspicion.

A piece of luggage on the conveyor belt catches your eye. Just as you move to place your phone into your back pocket and grab your bag, you notice Yeosang stop you.

“Which one is it?” He takes a few steps towards the terminal, not even waiting for you to respond.

“The silver one, but I can grab it-“ by the time the words have left your lips, he’s already hoisted your bag from the belt and placed it gently beside you. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

He smiles lightly. “I wanted to.”

You smile back. “I appreciate it.”

“Do you have any more?” He asks, eyes already scanning the moving luggage for similar ones to the bag he’s already grabbed for you.

“I have three, but I don’t expect you to-“

“Is this another?” He points to a larger silver hardshell case coming your way.

“Yes, but-“ again, before you can tell him not to worry about it, he’s lifting your luggage off of the conveyor and placing it gently beside your other one.

“Are the other two the same?” He asks, shifting his gaze towards you from over his shoulder.

“Same style, but red.” You blink, figuring you’re fighting a losing battle at this point if you keep telling him not to worry about it.

“Believe me, if I didn’t help you first, Jongho would have leapt across the room and done it himself,” Yeosang comments, pulling the first of your red bags off of the line for you.

The moment he wheels it over to you, you double check all of the labels, making sure these are indeed your bags.

“What about your bags?” You ask, noticing how he lifts your final bag off of the line in the next second.

“The staff usually handles them.” He shrugs, helping you wheel your bags over to a cart to help you start loading them onto it.

“Ah, so you wanted something to do.” You nod your understanding.

“Had to make sure all my muscles still work after a long flight like that.” He deadpans, the subtlest of quirks to his lips.

“Are you sure you didn’t just want to show off?” You quirk a brow teasingly.

“Depends,” he hums, shooting you a look out of the corner of his eyes as you both head towards the exit. “Were you impressed?”

You laugh, fake swooning in the next second. “My hero.”

Yeosang quirks a grin in response. “Fine then. Your bags were super heavy to lift, and I demand compensation.”

“I never forced you to lift them!” Your mouth falls open, a scandalized look crossing your features.

“I could have lifted them for you.” Jongho cuts in, seeing as they’ve all now caught up to you for the moment. “I would have been more than happy to.”

You chuckle, but you cannot help the way that you notice Yeosang fall silent as the younger inserts himself in between the both of you.

“It’s quite alright,” you smile softly. “Yeosang helped me just fine.”

“Do you have a ride to your accommodation?” It’s Seonghwa who asks, blinking at you with wide eyes.

“I do, thank you.” You nod. “My publisher sent some people to pick me up.”

You see a few of them nod back in understanding just as you reach the exit gate.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye for now.” Hongjoong turns to face you, stopping just off to the side to ensure they’re not blocking anyone’s path.

“You guys be careful out there,” you say, looking over all of them briefly. “I’ve seen some wild videos of how certain people can act towards all of you at the airport.”

“You, too.” Mingi sends a firm nod in your direction.

“Well, hopefully we’ll see you around!” Wooyoung grins, practically vibrating in his spot in excitement.

“Not to be ominous, but I have a feeling you will.” You smile knowingly. “Like I said, feel free to message me any time. Keep in touch if you can, and don’t be strangers.”

“We will,” Hongjoong smiles back, the corner of his own lips quirking knowingly as Jongho begins to pout beside him.

“I’ll see you guys around,” with a final wave, you’re grabbing your two luggage carts and steering them out of the exit.

You don’t even have to turn around to know that they follow you out a moment later. Given the way half of the crowd begins to bustle, practically swarming the opposite ramp as Ateez exits the terminal, you have a definitive answer. However, what you don’t expect is for a few people to be there for you.

“Miss, would you be willing to sign this for me? And could I possibly get a picture, too?” A girl asks, holding a copy of your first published book out to you.

“Of course,” you grin, having already given your luggage to the people you were supposed to be meeting at the airport that your publisher sent. Once you take the book and pen from her hands, you turn to face her. “Who should I make it out to?”

You’re so caught up in your own little world, completely awestruck by the fact that a small crowd had come to greet you at the airport, that you completely miss the feeling of eyes glancing back at you from across the way.

The last thing Yeosang sees before being ushered out to a waiting car is you signing some books and taking pictures with a few fans, a radiant smile lighting up your face.

#yandere yeosang #yandere ateez #ateez scenario #ateez imagines #yandere kpop #yeosang scenarios #kpop scenario #kpop au #kpop imagines #yandere au #chubby reader #tall reader #ateez x reader #ateez x you #ateez x y/n

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mins-fins · 1 year ago

Text

EVERYBODY WANTS TO RULE THE WORLD.

synopsis: the one thing taerae would always go by is "it's better to kill than be killed". a selfish motif to hold, yes, but in a world like this, where being selfish is the only way to survive, love isn't an option, love shouldn't be an option, and taerae thought that was that, but he sure did love lying to himself, and it's just so disappointing how things turned out.

pairing: kim taerae x male!reader

genre: dystopian au, fluff, angst, heartbreak, strangers to companions to lovers, happy ending? hell no 👍

warnings: mentions of murder, mentions of suicide, mentions of weaponry, kinda hunger games ripoff, talks of death and the afterlife, mentions of injuries and descriptions of bruises, taerae is so gay it's funny, conflicting feelings

word count: 3.7k

notes: THE BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS AND SNAKES WAS SO GOOD HELLO??? it was so beautifully shot and the movie was so good and the actors all delivered none of them missed they said "were getting that paycheck" and they DID! but anyway, can i tell you how much i love dystopian books how did i not read the hunger games sooner like wtf 🙁 i debated for so long on who to write this for and originally i thought gunwook but then i thought of something i think would be smart to put in the story so taerae it is! i hope you enjoy 👍

anyway and all reblogs are appreciated, please for the love of god if you have feedback, even if it was the smallest of it, so tell me, i love reading reblogs and people's thoughts on my fics, please do not be a silent reader 🙁🙏 this layout was inspired by @taeiun (ily)

104 days before.

the first thing taerae did was suck in a breath.

being stuck in an arena, with hundreds of other people, some of them adults, some of them children, some of them barely able to say goodbye to their families, some of them that had nobody left, all here for one reason, all against their own will.

taerae has been through this once before, when he was fifteen years old. it was traumatizing, he barely made it out alive, let alone made it out a winner. the only things he'd ever heard about it was how you had to run, how you needed to make sure you didn't make any close allies, how you should've been careful with who you trusted.

taerae had to learn that the hard way.

and by the "hard way" that equals almost getting murdered by a grown adult for a piece of jewelry.

but that was six years ago, taerae's now an adult, and at least he's alive, it's better than having to succumb to such a ghastly fate, then slowly being forgotten by everyone else who would then come after him.

now he's back, with a newfound anger for the organizer of this "challenge".

so as he glances around, he sighs.

he glances at the paper in his hand, the one he had just crumpled. he brushes the small amount of hair out of his face, and reopens it, looking at the name that scribbled onto it.

the one thing taerae just happened to forget about these games.

he's stuck by someone's side.

he doesn't bother reading the name, just once again crumbling the paper and sticking it into his sweater pocket. he watches as other people begin scattering, trying to find out who their going to be paired with for these.. games. taerae just stands there, like an idiot, not wanting to move even a bit.

in short, he didn't want to have a partner, not just because of prior traumatic experiences, but because he didn't know how he'd fair during these years games. it was difficult to stomach the feeling of being in the games again, and his heart almost dropped when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

a small yelp just barely escapes his lips, and he jumps back, startled. all random touches have always made him uncomfortable, maybe it's just his unsaid paranoia, but he takes a deep breath, trying his best to calm his fast beating heart.

also because he'd just come in contact with one of the most beautiful men ever..

taerae clears his throat, looking up at his new companion (he doesn't enjoy the word that much, but for this guy, he might just suck it up). his new companion who is absolutely gorgeous, if taerae had to describe him, he'd say the word "enticing" is one of the best words he can use.

taerae has met pretty people, he's met several psychically attractive people, and there's a lot of encounters he's had with said kinds of people. he spends maybe two minutes before snapping out of it, feeling his face go red. "i— i'm sorry, was that rude? i apologize if that was rud—"

his new companion snickers, then full on laughs, shaking his head. "it's alright" he says softly, waving his hand dismissively. his voice is what taerae would think touching a cloud would feel like, it's just so soft, so comfortable to listen to.

taerae quickly pinches himself, he can't believe he's having such thoughts about someone he met like two seconds ago!

"um, kim taerae?"

taerae freezes, then nods. the beautiful stranger stretches out his hand for taerae to take, and he blinks for a moment like an idiot, quickly then taking his hand and shaking it. "l/n y/n, nice to meet you".

"nice to meet you too.."

taerae didn't know that taking that hand had practically sealed his fate.

that in 104 days, he'd be regretting everything he's ever done in his life..

89 days before.

one thing taerae has discovered about y/n is that he enjoys taking risks.

the whole point is that they're supposed to survive (at least one of them is), not try to kill themselves at every single chance.. which is exactly what y/n is trying to do. seriously, taerae never knew that people could ever enjoy jumping off cliffs, or just running into danger.

taerae didn't know having a companion meant having to bust out his ass every time he threatens the next person that tries him.

"seriously, do you enjoy being moments away from death?" he inquires, staring at the scab on y/n's hand, he immediately slaps y/n's hand away the moment he tries to pick at it. he earns a frown, and just rolls his eyes.

"don't do that, it's gross".

taerae's tone is stern, straight to the point, and y/n looks up at him when he stands up, walking off to go get something from his backpack. he narrows his eyes at him, and sighs as he sees the one thing he didn’t want to see.

not the bandages— rubbing alcohol.

"one of these days, the officials are gonna find you somewhere and think i killed you" taerae mindlessly comments, kneeling beside y/n and taking his hand, he considers putting up a fight, but taerae doesn't seem to be taking his shit that day, so he just lets taerae patch up his hand.

"i think that'd just certify you as a legend more than anything".

taerae laughs at the words, although y/n winces because he just happens to apply the alcohol at the same time. "your much of a comedian aren't you?" he inquires, lightly glancing up at y/n, but quickly glancing down as to avoid eye contact with him.

"i try".

taerae can't help the smile that crosses his face, but then his face drops at the realization that he's smiling about y/n. that's enough to make him begin questioning himself.

he shouldn't be smiling over a boy, he shouldn't even be thinking about smiling over a boy.

he was here to survive, not make friends, not fall in love.

but oh what a liar he was.

64 days before.

"what are you doing exactly?"

"it's a surprise".

taerae doesn't know if he can take another one of y/n's 'surprises', mostly because said boy enjoys chasing him around with spiders and, worst of all, snakes. he's smacked y/n so many times for scaring him that it's become much of an instinct in these few weeks.

"i don't know if i can trust any of your surprises anymore, l/n" taerae says, watching as y/n hums to himself. he has absolutely no idea what he's doing, considering his back is turned to him, as if he's trying to hide it from taerae. "what are you doing?"

the inquiry just barely makes it to y/n, who turns around, making sure his hands are hidden away from taerae. "i said, it was a surprise".

"i hope your not about to murder me".

"i would never" y/n smiles ominously, and taerae almost feels a bit.. fearful at the look he receives. he blinks away such thoughts, and simply sighs.

"y/n, seriously—"

taerae pauses, especially when y/n turns around and places something on his head. he goes silent for a moment, but then he sees y/n smile, and he blinks again. "what..?"

"it's a flower crown" he says simply, his hands dropping down to his sides. taerae opens his mouth to say something, but closes it again because he's just shocked at why y/n would do this.

it's just.. such a simple yet sweet act? and with the way y/n was staring at him, how could he not be falling in love with him? taerae's inner conscious is practically screaming at him right now, what happened to love isn't an option? he can't believe what he's thinking right now.

a look of shock quickly spreads over y/n's face and he turns around, clearing his throat. "yeah— uh, sorry" he mutters, and taerae simply smiles, feeling his heart soar in a way it never has before.

"no no it's.. pretty i like it" taerae slowly removes the crown, staring at the kinds of flowers that are littered around the crown. he runs his hands over the crown, and smiles once again, it was just something to cherish; something he would cherish for a long time.

"these are daisies right?"

y/n nods, taerae can tell he feels a little embarrassed, especially with the way he's picking at his nails. "yeah um, i know you like them".

taerae gasps, using this as an opportunity to tease the hell out of y/n. "aww you remembered!?"

"don't start.."

41 days before.

"do you sing?"

taerae looks up at y/n, his eyebrow raising at the inquiry. he tries so hard not to focus on the fact that his wet shirt is practically see through, in fact he tries so hard to ignore everything about y/n, worrying he's going to act impulsively and do stuff he can only think of.

"how'd you know?" no seriously, how did he? taerae mentioned playing the guitar as a one off thing maybe once.. he never mentioned singing before, and even then, the idea of singing being interesting to y/n just makes something go off in his mind..

"intuition" he simply replies, sitting himself down besides taerae. he stares at taerae for what seems like a while, and for some reason, taerae pauses just to stare at him too.

they keep having.. moments like this, where they just sit and stare at each other for unspecified amounts of time. taerae sometimes feels like he's fallen into a trap, that this is exactly what y/n wanted to happen, but those are just the excuses his brain makes to try and erase the feelings he's obviously growing for y/n.

he dislikes feeling like this—

but really, can he stop it?

"can you sing for me?"

"huh?"

taerae blinks, staring at y/n like he just asked an insane kind of question. he wants taerae to sing for him? he opens his mouth to speak, but then closes it, because he has no idea how to respond to that. the question shouldn't be so hard to answer, but for him, it is.

"you— you want me to sing?" he asks, taking in a deep breath. "for you?" he points at y/n, who just snickers, laying down onto the grassy field.

"i mean— you have a nice speaking voice, you must also have a nice singing voice too, right?"

taerae stares at y/n, thinking for a moment, then he turns to his guitar that's lying on the ground and picks it up. "do you have any songs in mind?"

"i was hoping that you would have songs in mind.." y/n immediately replies, and taerae gives him an 'are you serious' look.

"at this point i'm going to end up killing you" he says as a joke, positioning his guitar on his lap. the words make y/n laugh, because he's told that exact joke before, he finds it funny that taerae just repeated it to him.

"at least if i die, i'll die having heard your beautiful voice".

taerae scrunches his nose, lightly slapping y/n in the shoulder. y/n lightly squeaks, rolling ever just the slightest and dramatically clutches his stomach, as if taerae had just sentenced him to death.

"shut up before i change my mind" taerae spits out at him, knowing that was such a lie. he looks down at his hand, which is just caressing the strings of his guitar.

how does one even find themself in such a circumstance?

25 days before.

"where do you think we go when we die?"

the question catches taerae off guard. he notices the way y/n's eyes continue to go down, his eyelids are probably feeling heavy, taerae thinks. he's insanely tired, they both are. besides that, he rubs his eyes and patiently waits for taerae's answer.

"well.. i'm of the belief that there isn't really an afterlife" taerae answers. "i— i feel like, in my opinion, it's more comforting that i just get to die, and that's that, i don't know how i'd feel dying then just.. having to open my eyes again".

y/n's face stays unmoving for a moment, but then he smiles. "when i was younger, my mom told me that when i died, my soul would move on, while my body stayed on earth".

"she was never, you know, specific about it, she said some people go to good places and some people go to bad places after they die, but it all depends on they life they did lead, and the life they could've lead".

y/n doesn't look at taerae, instead resorting to picking at his skin, which taerae notices is a bad habit of his. he scoots closer towards y/n and pushes his hands apart, feeling displeased by the uncanny silence that now washes over them.

"your mom.. she sounds sweet" taerae mumbles, keeping his hands on top of y/n's. he doesn't really realize it, though, because it just feels so natural. y/n doesn't usually talk about things like this, he's the funny, comedic, kind of person, he doesn't talk about serious stuff, it's not his thing.

taerae assumes it's the sleep deprivation, the stress, the idea that he or taerae get could killed at any moment gives him extreme anxiety. yeah he tries to pass it off, but taerae can tell, his overprotective nature isn't outrightly obvious, but you can clearly see it in the bits and pieces of his personality that shine through.

he stops with just leaving his hand on top of y/n's, and begins holding y/n's hand in itself, intertwining their fingers, y/n also intertwines their fingers together, finding comfort in the way taerae decided to hold his hand.

"yeah she was, she.. died while a medic in war".

y/n plays with taerae's fingers, taerae thinks it's because he's afraid he'll cry that he doesn't look up, and he gets it, so he doesn't say more. y/n sighs, his voice barely above a whisper. "i don't—" he pauses for a moment. "i don't want to lose you taerae".

taerae's eyes widen, his mind begins racing, his heart begins beating faster, and he feels himself get warmer, despite the cold air that surrounds them. "you've become important to me, i feel like i need to protect you".

the words hit taerae like something he can't even describe, a heavy sigh escapes his lips as he thinks about, and he tightens his hold on y/n's hand. "it's a two way thing you know" taerae mutters. "don't worry, i won't let anything happen to you".

and for once, taerae wasn't listening to his head.

he was listening to his heart.

10 days before.

"the stars look pretty tonight".

y/n reaches over to grab taerae's hand, and tugs him closer, his eyes focused on the sky. taerae looks over at him, staring like he's the most beautiful person in the world, he's grateful that y/n can't just how much he's staring.

"can you identify the constellations?" he asks, and y/n finally looks back at him, closing his eyes as he lets out a laugh. "what? it's a totally normal question to ask when talking about stars!"

y/n shakes his head, then he looks back up at the sky, pointing. "that, is cassiopeia" he states, and taerae narrows his eyes, tilting his head to get a better look at the sky. "or in other words, the most boring constellation".

"cassiopeia? the most boring?" taerae snickers.

"yeah, scorpion is the most interesting one".

"um, no, it's definitely lyra".

"you wanna bet?"

"oh definitely! you'll lose!"

4 days before.

"are we gonna talk after this?"

the question makes y/n laugh. taerae notices that's how he responds to most questions, by laughing, maybe being by his side for about three months now has made him notice all these little things he barely saw when he first met y/n.

the idea of thinking about the future of.. well— them, scares him in a way.

staring at y/n is enough to instantly make him smile, he doesn't know when he decides to drop his whole act, when he decided to stop being so cold, why y/n is the one person that was able to remove him from the shell he once perfectly secured himself in.

to be honest though, he doesn't mind anymore.

"of course, why would we not?"

"i'm afraid you'd be certified too 'cool' for me once we return" taerae admits rather shyly, looking down at the floor despite the fact that he was laying down. y/n laughs once again, tucking taerae's hair behind his ear.

he pats his lap, and taerae lays his head down onto his lap, sighing. "i don't know, people perceive me in such a certain way that i'm scared you will too.." he says, feeling a little better as y/n runs his fingers through his hair.

"well, i know you a lot better than you think, taerae" y/n says, sounding sure of himself. taerae looks up at him, thinking for a moment, then smiling, then laughing.

"you sure do have a way with your words, y/n".

"thank you".

that was when taerae knew.

he was in love.

so in love.

the day of.

"i have a bad feeling about this".

taerae pauses, watching as y/n packs his stuff. "do you know how far astria is? what if you like.. have an accident on the way there?" taerae didn't mean to sound overly protective, really, he didn't, it just came naturally to him, especially when it came to y/n, and now that it was coming to this.

"it'll be fine, rae, you know i've been through worse".

"it's better to be safe than sorry, y/n".

y/n looks up at taerae, a snicker coming to his face accompanied by a smile. "i thought we talked about this yesterday, if you want me to stay, i can" he reminds taerae, the words pretty much echoing in his mind.

of course i want you to stay! but that would be so selfish of me! in these past three months you've never thought about yourself! it would be selfish of me to want you to stay when all you've done is for me..

"no, it's okay" taerae smiles. "it's alright, if it's for your own good, then you should go".

oh who was he kidding?

taerae hated the idea of y/n having to go, yeah they probably would be reunited in the next 10 hours, but they idea of the person he's been with for the past three months suddenly going off on his own gives so much more anxiety than he thought.

but at the same time, he feels horrible thinking like this.

what has y/n ever done but be selfless? even from the first moment they met, had y/n ever thought about himself? no, he hadn't. he thought about taerae and taerae only, he could've left taerae for dead at any moment, there were so many times where taerae felt— no, he knew that y/n was tired, so tired, but he still supported him.

he hates feeling like he's holding him back, like he's the reason y/n can't do more, like he's the reason he can't fulfill everything he's ever wanted.

"don't think so much" y/n walks up to taerae, placing his hands on his shoulder. he stares at him with so much love, that taerae almost considers crying, but he manages to stop himself from coming to tears. "i'm going to be okay, you know i can't be taken out that easily".

"don't jinx yourself" taerae barely manages to get it out, and he feels his voice break. y/n's face falls, and he caresses taerae's cheek, pressing a kiss onto his forehead.

"there's no need to worry about me, i'll be fine".

he had to confirm it twice, that meant he wasn't going to be fine.

and taerae was right, he wasn't.

he just wished he did more convincing and made y/n stay.

7 days after.

"i'm surprised how someone like you survived on their own".

"hao!"

taerae glances between the people, and he just gives an awkward smile. the smallest one of the group nudges zhang hao, who yelps, punching him in the waist. "don't be mean to taerae, he's obviously traumatized" matthew then turns to taerae, and smiles sympathetically.

taerae hates it.

"no i— i actually had a partner" taerae replies. at the words, both hanbin and matthew perk up. "it was a few months we were together before.. well— i don't know actually".

hanbin makes an 'o' shape with his mouth, his gaze quickly softening. hao narrows his eyes, and matthew is simply silent as he stares at taerae, who quickly zones out as he focuses on the mug in his hands. "we weren't informed you had a partner".

"well, he's dead" taerae states without thinking, his voice sounds dead, it's so empty that it's enough to startle hanbin. matthew opens his mouth, unsure at how to respond to such a stern statement. "sorry, was that rude in some way?"

"no no it wasn't rude!" hanbin says, waving his hands back and forth, he's waving them so much in fact, that hao has to put his hands down to stop him from moving so much. "we were just.. startled that's all".

"uh huh" taerae's face stays the same way it was before, and he plays with the spoon in his mug, not even bothering to take a sip of the now cooled tea. "so what? that's all you wanted to know?"

zhang hao opens his mouth, thinking of what he was going to say next, but then pausing to narrow his eyes and stare at taerae's shirt. there's a daisy pinned right to his shirt, just right out in the open, as if made to be obvious. "you like daisies?" he inquiries, looking up at taerae.

taerae doesn't even need to look down to realize what he's staring at, he just closes his eyes. "yeah" he responds flatly.

"my favorite flower".

#kim taerae #zerobaseone #zb1 #zerobaseone kim taerae #zb1 kim taerae #zerobaseone taerae #zb1 taerae #zerobaseone imagines #zerobaseone drabbles #zerobaseone scenarios #zb1 imagines #zb1 drabbles #zb1 scenarios #kim taerae x reader #kim taerae x male reader #𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 isa's works!

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fluentmoviequoter · 1 year ago

Note

hey I have another request since you asked to keep them coming. how about academic rivals with victor vale (lockland era) turned to allies (*cough* lovers) fighting against eli? it would be also awesome for reader to be an EO <33

I am so so so sorry about the long wait, but thank you for being patient! This request is amazing and I hope I did it justice; it's my first time writing rivals to lovers allies, so I hope it's okay! Please feel free to leave feedback and let me know what you think. Thanks again for the great requests!🤍

Warnings: angst, fluff, discussions of death and EOs, reader's ability is discussed (it's controlling vehicles), reader and Victor call each other stupid/just are generally mean to each other, spoilers for Vicious. I think that's all?

Word Count: ~4.6k words

A/N: We need more Victor Vale gifs.

10 Years Ago - Lockland

You’re sitting in the quiet library, tapping your pen against your lower lip as you look back and forth between the open textbook and your nearly full notebook. The Comprehensive Science Seminar is ending, and it’s time to declare a thesis. You’ve been fighting through this course and are struggling to find the perfect topic. An idea pops into your head, and you scribble it on the last page of your notebook. As you pull the pen away, someone drops a paper onto your book.

“Wow, 95. You must be so proud,” you say emotionlessly, pushing the paper across the table as the owner, Victor Vale, sits across from you.

“It’s alright. What’d you get?” Victor asks, and you swear you see the hint of a smile.

“I don’t know, I haven’t been in to see Professor Lyne yet. No doubt it’s a 96 or higher.” You send him a fake smile before looking back at your notes.

“Hmm. And your thesis?”

“Yours?”

Victor stares at you before shrugging. “Coming along nicely.”

“Mine too. Now if you don’t mind.”

“Right, right. I wouldn’t want to bother Lockland’s number 2 student. See you tomorrow.”

“Not if there’s any hope in the world.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and groan quietly. I need a better thesis if I want to beat him, you think, and open a different textbook.

14 Years Ago - Lockland

“Mr. Vale, you will be paired with… your neighbor, nice planning,” the professor announces.

He continues down the list as you look over at Mr. Vale.

“I’ll handle it,” he mutters, reaching for the worksheet.

You slap a hand onto it, stopping him as you argue, “That’s not gonna work for me. I don’t really need the fate of my GPA in… those hands.”

The corner of his lip twitches up for just a moment. “Well these hands happen to have a better GPA than you. So, if it works for you, I’ll give yours a little boost. They love charity work here, it’s like an extracurricular.”

“Well, as much as I appreciate that,” you bite out, “I don’t trust you or your high GPA hands. So we do it together, or I take the A and tell everyone that you didn’t demonstrate the signature ‘Lockland Teamwork.’”

Victor cracks his neck before pushing the paper toward your side of the lab table. “Fine. But if we don’t do well on this I will make sure you never show your face at Lockland again.”

“Yeah, we’ll see how you feel after you lose your title of highest GPA, Vale.”

10 Years Ago - Lockland

“All right. It’s time to declare your thesis,” Professor Lyne announces.

You stare at the back of Victor’s head, two thesis options on a notecard on your desk. Are you waiting to see what he picks? Maybe. But you’re one or two higher grades away from taking Victor’s class ranking, and you will do it. If it’s the last thing you do.

Professor Lyne goes through his warnings about what makes a good thesis, and then you drown everything out. Bouncing your leg, you hope this goes well.

“And you, Mr. Vale?” Professor Lyne asks, pulling you from your thoughts.

You see Victor look at Eli, then he turns and glances at you. Your brows furrow as he answers, “Adrenal inducers.”

Professor Lyne begins to argue, and Victor adds, “Adrenaline and its physical and emotional inducers and consequences. Biochemical thresholds. Fight or flight, That kind of thing.”

Watching with bated breath, you’re surprised when Professor Lyne nods and says, “Don’t make me regret it.”

You can practically feel the victory radiating off Victor as Professor Lyne turns his attention to you, sitting between Eli and Victor, a row behind. You state your first thesis idea, and Professor Lyne tilts his head as he nods.

“Excellent choice,” he says. “Eli Cardale.”

You take a deep breath, a small smile on your face. This smile, however, falls as Eli answers.

“EOs,” Eli says calmly.

You don’t hear the rest of the conversation until the end when Professor Lyne concedes with a simple: “Fine.”

Fine? you think. He’s going to kill someone; he’s insane.

Victor follows Eli outside, and for a brief moment, you’re concerned, then you realize that his concern for his psycho friend may give you the advantage you need.

You can win even after sacrificing a pawn, after all.

With your entire focus on beating Victor, you hardly notice that you haven’t seen him around as much. At least until you learn he tried to kill himself. After an internal war, wondering if you should visit him, you get in your car and drive to the hospital where he is.

When you find his room, you knock on the door. “Hey.”

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

“Wow. Great to see you too, oh, it was no problem to come down and see you,” you respond.

Victor shakes his head. “Thanks, I guess. Why are you here?”

You shrug. “I figured I could apologize, since my amazing thesis drove you to such lengths.”

Victor barks out a harsh laugh. “You wish this was about you.”

“Then what’s it about?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Right, because I’m just a stupid girl whose GPA isn’t as high as yours and my mommy and daddy don’t write self-help books that end up with cryptic, messed-up messages.”

“See? Don’t understand.”

“Well, then, in that case, I’ll get going. I’ve got an ‘excellent’ thesis to work on. See ya, Vale, unless they finally see that it’s not just smart up there.”

You walk out, fuming. Victor is a lot of things, and infuriating is at the top of the list. He thinks you’re too stupid to understand? You’d bet money you know what happened.

In your car, you look down at your phone and find Eli’s number, prepared to check your hypothesis that he was involved. It rings as you drive, and you hear Eli answer just before you see a truck swerve into your lane.

10 Years Ago - Lockland Medical Center

You gasp for air when you wake up. Doctors and nurses are surrounding you; one pulls an adrenaline shot away as the others keep you still to tend to your wounds. Losing control is something you don’t usually feel, and you don’t like it. Their voices fade as your blinks grow slower, control slipping from your grasp.

The light in the hospital room is not helpful in your battle to open your eyes. When your surroundings become clear, you see the date on the wall. Your thesis is due tomorrow.

“Um, excuse me?” you ask a passing nurse. “I really need to get going, I have a thesis due.”

“Someone is on their way to talk with you,” she says kindly before hurrying out.

Professor Lyne’s assistant knocks on the door a few minutes later, sorrow and hurt in his eyes. “I was sorry to hear about your accident, but I’m glad you’re doing better. Modern medicine is something to behold.”

“Right,” you mumble. “And my thesis?”

“You’ll receive full credit for the course and have an indefinite extension. Professor Lyne…” His voice catches, and he clears his throat before continuing, “Professor Lyne had an accident at the school. He passed away yesterday.”

“He’s gone?”

“Yes, I’m sorry. I reviewed your thesis draft with him the previous day and he was very impressed, so when you are able to submit it, I have no doubt you will receive praise.”

A tear rolls down his cheek, and he hastily excuses himself. Professor Lyne was impressed; you wonder if he reviewed Victor’s work. Or if Victor even did any work after his “accident.”

“Hello?” you ask, answering your phone.

“Hey, it’s Eli. Victor tried to kill me,” Eli says quickly.

“Eli?” you ask after a moment. “When did Victor get released?”

“Focus! Vic. Tried. To. Kill. Me,” he repeats slowly.

You probably deserved it, you think. Instead of saying that, you ask, “But you’re okay?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Victor is messed up though.”

“Eli, why are you telling me this?”

“Think about it. He tolerates me, but he hates you. Just be careful.”

Eli ends the call, and you decide he’s crazier than you thought. You glance around the hospital room, stopping to look out the window and feel a strange buzzing sensation as a truck passes outside. It swerves onto the curb, then the buzzing fades, and the driver corrects his mistake and keeps driving. Weird.

“Ma’am, I have the paperwork here if you’re ready to leave,” a nurse informs you.

“Oh, I am,” you answer, reaching for the pen.

9 Years Ago - Lockland

You walk the stage and accept your degree. The small class in your Comprehensive Science Seminar receives a special ceremony. Except for the two who didn’t submit their theses: Victor Vale and Eli Cardale. You thought that if either of them went to jail, it would be Eli. After hearing what Victor did to Angie Knight, you realize that maybe your academic hatred for him stemmed from a deeper understanding of his character.

It happens again when you leave the ceremony to enter the next part of your life and start a new job with your new degree. You look at a truck and feel a buzzing before it swerves. You step back, and it doesn’t stop; at the last second before impact, you flip your hand to the side, and the truck rolls over, stopping in the middle of the road.

You look between your hand and the truck, and worry fills your mind as you realize Eli was right.

Two Weeks Ago - Wrighton Penitentiary

“Who’re you here to see?”

“Victor Vale,” you answer.

The disinterested guard taps a few keys on a computer. “He was in solitary for a long time. Folks like that don’t usually get visitors.”

You nod. “It’s been a long time. He’s not in solitary anymore, so I can see him, right?”

The guard huffs before pushing a clipboard through the small opening in the bulletproof glass. “Sign these, then go through the metal detectors. They’ll show you where to go.”

“Thank you.”

You rush through the paperwork and then through the security checkpoint. Sitting in front of the bulletproof divider, you tap your fingers on the metal table, glancing between the phone and the door. When Victor enters, his eyes land on you, as cold and hateful as ever.

“Hey,” you say into the phone after he picks the other side up.

“What do you want?”

“That’s your go-to line, isn’t it?”

“It’s been years,” Victor spits out your last name, “why now?”

You look around before lowering your voice to say, “He was right and you know something.”

“Who?”

“Eli. Who else, Victor? The guy you… injured.”

“What exactly do you want from me?”

“Answers! And don’t tell me that I won’t understand, I’m the one with a college degree and you’re in a jail cell,” you snap.

“Top of the class?” You nod, and Victor mumbles, “Just because I dropped out.”

“I would’ve beat your little ‘flight or fight’ thesis and you know it. Now tell me what happened.”

“Nothing happened and nothing is going to happen. My time’s up. Bye.”

He slams the phone and storms out, not sparing a glance over his shoulder. The ache you refused to acknowledge disappears as he does. That’s what I thought, you think.

You spend the next few days trying to figure out what power Eli has. If Victor attempted to kill him and failed, then Eli must be invincible. There’s a way around that; there has to be. Staying near the prison wasn’t a conscious choice, but you’re less than a mile away, just in case.

One Week Ago - Wrighton Penitentiary

Reading on your porch, you don’t expect to witness someone trying to steal your car. Focusing, you rev the engine and flash the headlights as you walk toward them.

“I knew I was smarter than you, but I didn’t think you were this much of an idiot,” you tell Victor.

“How did you do that?” he asks.

“I already told you, I know more than you think.”

“We need your car,” Victor says.

“Not without me. You can take it, on the condition I go with it.”

“Absolutely not. Give me the keys or we’ll take it another way,” Victor threatens.

You square your shoulders and look into his eyes with the same tenacity and stubbornness he hated in college.

“How? Gonna hurt me again; use the pain to distract me? Is that your thing?”

The man with him looks back and forth between you.

“You don’t know half as much as you think you do.”

You rev the engine and watch Victor’s eyes move to the car. “I know that you and Eli are EOs. And I know that you’re both crazy, but you’re not quite as crazy. Now, do you want to stand here until you get caught or take me up on the offer and get out of here?”

“I don’t want you coming with us,” he snaps.

You see a police car approaching and direct it into a U-turn to send it in the other direction.

“You’re-”

“An EO? Thought you were smart enough to notice, Vale. Last chance: car or no car?”

“Fine,” he concedes as sirens grow louder. “But I’m driving.”

“Not a chance. Besides, I can control it from the passenger seat, idiot.”

Victor rolls his eyes as he rushes to the passenger side, sitting low in the seat as his (friend? acquaintance?) lays down in the backseat. You introduce yourself quickly.

“Mitch,” he answers. “Thanks for covering for us.”

“Mostly you, Mitch.”

“So I’ve heard,” he mumbles.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“We can go to my parents’ house. They’re on a book tour,” Victor answers.

“Of course they are. Then what?”

“We find him.”

You nod, directing police cars past you as you turn off of the main road.

“And kill him, I presume? Since you failed last time,” you add.

“How do you know about that?”

“He called me. Warned me that since you hated me more than him, I was probably next.”

“And you didn’t care?”

“I was in the hospital, so yeah, it wasn’t really a top priority.”

“How’d you die?” Mitch asks. “Sorry, is that insensitive? I’m new to the Extra-Ordinary thing.”

“It should be insensitive, but it’s fine,” you answer gently. Softer than you’ve ever talked to Victor. “I was in a car accident after I visited Prince Vale over here after his overdose. A failed attempt at getting superpowers, I realize now.”

“You were in a wreck? I didn’t know,” Victor says, pulling himself up into the seat.

“I’m shocked,” you answer sarcastically, “because you always cared so much about me. We hate each other, Victor, I didn’t expect flowers.”

Victor nods and tells you how to get to his parents’ house. Mitch sighs after each of his hurtful comments, but you’re immune to them.

10 Days Ago - On the Road

“They’re back,” Mitch says, looking at the armored truck out the back window.

“I can get them off our trail, for good, but it will put a target on our back,” you offer.

“Not alone, you can’t,” Victor argues.

You nod. “Then what do we do?”

“Stop the car.”

You do as he says, telling Mitch to get down as you and Victor get out of the car.

“I am smart enough to do this by myself,” you whisper.

“Sure you are,” Victor replies. “Flip it and I’ll finish them off.”

“Okay,” you breathe out before focusing on flipping the vehicle end over end into a roadside ditch.

You watch as Victor approaches the cracked windshield. Closing your eyes as if it will protect you against the pained screams, you hear the last officer take his final breath before Victor returns to the car.

“Let’s go,” he hurries you. “If it helps your conscience, you didn’t kill any of them, just hurt them.”

If only you could believe that.

One Week Ago - Vale House

“Is that who I think it is?” you ask, looking over Mitch’s shoulder.

“I don’t know, I haven’t seen him,” Mitch answers. “Is it? This just says ‘Civilian Hero Saves Bank.’”

“Yeah, that’s Eli Cardale. He hasn’t aged a day, though.”

You’re leaning over onto the table, reading the article when Victor enters.

“What’s so interesting?” Victor asks.

“Mitch found Eli,” you answer.

“Where?”

He joins you, his arm brushing against yours, and for once, you don’t immediately pull away.

“Merit,” Mitch says. “He’s some kind of vigilante.”

You and Victor make the same sound: muted amusement covered by exasperation. Mitch looks at you, then back to the screen.

“The article doesn’t say his name? I thought he’d want the fame,” you add.

“He doesn’t. He thinks God sent him back to take care of EOs.”

“Eli Cardale thinks he’s God? That makes sense.”

“Ever. He changed his name to Eli Ever.”

“Someone was jealous of someone else’s alliteration, Peter Parker,” you point out, smiling as Victor sighs.

The night before you leave for Merit, you ask Mitch to find Victor’s records, reading the reports of both deaths - his overdose and the one he caused. After his overdose, no one told you he died, and you had no idea about what happened with Angie.

“What are you doing?” Victor asks, suddenly behind you.

“Getting answers,” you reply, turning the computer off and walking away.

Victor follows you through the large glass doors onto the deck.

“So it’s okay for you to go digging around in my past when you won’t answer a single question about yours?” Victor snaps.

“What do you want to know? That I got hit by a truck and brought back to life two times? That I put everything I had left into that thesis? That the first time I realized I had a power was because of you?”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone? You knew Eli and I were looking into EOs.”

“This isn’t my fault, Victor!”

“You were being reckless! Still are!”

“And you’re still stupid! Who in their right mind kills themselves, not once, but twice, just to get superpowers?” you yell, stepping closer to Victor.

“You have powers too! And we both know I’m not the stupid one here.”

“Are we seriously arguing over who’s smarter? We just killed several people, Victor!”

“We? There was no we when we had that group project and you deleted my work to replace it with your own.”

“You were wrong and you know it,” you reply, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms.

“My GPA begs to differ.”

“You didn’t even graduate and you’re still infuriating.”

“And you’re smarter than you think, just won’t apply yourself like I do!”

“Shut up, Victor.”

“Make me.”

You grab his coat and pull him in, crashing your lips against his. His hands meet your waist, and he slows the kiss, moving his lips against yours. When you realize what you’re doing, you pull back.

“We- uh- we can’t stay here forever, your parents have to come back eventually,” you say quietly, Victor’s coat still in your hands.

“I know, but I don’t think we can do this alone. I can turn myself in and get another guy. Someone who can kill the unkillable.”

“That’s an incredibly stupid idea, Victor.”

“Do you have a better one?” Victor asks sharply.

“A few, actually. And they don’t require you to go back to prison and leave me here.”

“I’m not pulling you into this, too. If Eli kills me....”

“That’s not your decision, Vic.”

He takes a few deep breaths before nodding. “Okay,” he whispers.

Six Days Ago - Merit

You and Victor walk out of a store with several supplies, including Mitch’s chocolate milk and a first aid kit for Sydney’s gunshot wound. She’s only been with you for a few hours since you drove into Merit, but you feel attached to her already. Suddenly, you drop the bags as an intense pain overwhelms your senses.

“Vic?” you ask, looking up at him.

You watch, helpless, as he calls the police with an anonymous tip that escaped convict Victor Vale was seen in Merit.

“You lied to me!” you accuse through your tears. “Don’t do this!”

He kneels before you, brushing his finger over your cheekbone and kissing your forehead. “I’ll find you when I get out.”

“I’ll find you if you don’t. Please don’t be stupid about this,” you beg.

“See you around. Maybe study biology to pass the time and we can have a rematch test,” Victor says before standing and approaching the curb.

He raises his hands and falls to his knees as the police descend upon him and handcuff him. Even though you could stop it all with the wave of a hand, you watch, vowing to keep your promise or die trying. And you would have done better in that biology class if your teacher had been a fair grader.

You return to the room at the Esquire, tears still running down your face.

“What happened?” Sydney asks, rushing to your side when you enter.

“That idiot got himself arrested just to break out again with more help,” you answer, no emotion in your voice. “So we have to do something.”

“Okay, this is when Victor would tell you not to be stupid,” Mitch interjects.

“Well, Victor thinks I’m stupid all the time. Let’s prove him right,” you reply, shrugging.

“How?” Mitch asks.

“Sydney Vale here is going to visit her big brother, I’m going to crash a truck into a wall and we’re going to make sure Eli is ready for the taking as soon as Victor is out. Maybe not in that order.”

“Meaning?” Mitch asks carefully.

“No time for questions. You stay here and send me layouts of the jail and Sydney and I will bring Victor back soon.”

Sydney wordlessly follows you, more than happy to help you get Victor back.

Five Days Ago - Merit Police Department

The time and place have been set: Midnight at Falcon Price. Now, to get the last member of your team back.

You and Sydney sit across from Victor, pretending to be checking on him until you create an excuse to leave.

“Is she okay?” Victor asks.

“Cover your head,” Sydney whispers.

Victor’s eyes widen when he hears brakes squeal and horns blowing, but he covers his head like Sydney asks. When the front end of a semi breaks through the wall before reversing out, Victor turns up the pain around him to distract everyone as he gets Sydney over the bulletproof divider and outside.

You rev the engine of the car you’re in and smile as Victor and Sydney climb in.

“I told you to wait,” Victor admonishes.

“We found him and we have a meeting. Four days, so find a new partner.”

“We need to figure out how Eli is finding them,” Victor mumbles.

“Mitch is working on it,” you reply.

“You know that was stupid, right?” Victor asks, changing the subject.

“Isn’t everything I do?”

“Maybe not everything,” Victor answers slowly, thinking about what happened at his parents’ house.

“Maybe not,” you agree, smiling.

10 Hours to Midnight - Merit

“You’re not going,” Victor repeats.

“Yes, I am. You need backup and I’m not just going to sit here,” you argue. You lower your voice to add, “Sydney may buy your promise that you’re coming back, but I’m not stupid enough to trust you again. At least not yet. So I go, or no one goes.”

“This is prison break day all over again,” Victor mumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a hesitant yes.”

“Perfect. Then let’s finish this, Victor.”

“And then what?”

“Biology test then a shot at freedom,” you answer. “In that order.”

Midnight - Falcon Price

You promised you wouldn’t interfere until you had to, but you can’t watch Eli touch Victor again. The building isn’t solid, yet you stand as you hear a large truck nearby. Directing it toward the building, you hope it doesn’t hurt Victor any more than he already is. Angling it so it affects the side where Eli is pacing more than where Victor is kneeling, bloody and bruised, you increase the speed and run it straight into the south corner of the Falcon Price project.

The building tilts and drops several feet as the load shifts onto the truck wedged in the load-bearing beams. Eli stumbles backward as you rush toward Victor.

“I should have known,” Eli says with a dark chuckle. “Although I wish I’d thought to recruit you before you two realized the line between hate and tolerance is so thin.”

“You would know,” you snap, wrapping an arm around Victor.

“But you see,” Eli continues, moving to the edge and looking over. “A truck isn’t enough to stop me. I’m invincible because God isn’t finished with me.”

“And when He is?” you ask.

“He’ll find a way.”

“How do you think you get to heaven, Cardale?” you ask, stalling.

The light of a plane catches your attention.

“It’s Ever,” he nearly growls.

“I’ve always wondered if it’s a plane that takes you to heaven,” you continue, willing yourself to control more than just trucks.

“You are as stupid as Victor said,” Eli mutters before raising his voice to ask, “What’s with the heaven questions? Didn't get an answer when you died at Lockand?”

“Yes or no on the plane, Eli?” you yell over the growing noise of the plane engine. “Because I think it’s time to board!”

You toss yourself over Victor as the plane crashes into the edge of the building, pulling Eli out of sight. Holding onto the chair bolted to the ground, you keep Victor from sliding over the edge as he tries to remain conscious.

“Was that a plane? I thought it was just trucks,” he mumbles as he pulls himself up.

“Apparently not. Now we need to get out of here before all those cops get here.”

“Didn’t think of that when I killed Serena.”

“Don’t think about that, Vic. Let’s focus on getting back to Sydney and Mitch; you have a promise to keep.”

After Midnight - Vale House

“Hey,” you call as you walk onto the deck and close the door behind you. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Eli survived, but Snell took him in for murder. Serena was really powerful," he answers, turning to face you.

“You did it.”

“You did most of it. Without the truck and plane, he would have killed me.”

“Maybe. What now?”

“I don’t think this will ever be over,” he says, sighing. “But for now…”

He leans in, and you lay your hands on his chest as you ask, “Biology test?”

“Depends. What does the winner get?”

“Hmm. Two days without the loser calling them stupid,” you suggest.

“That’s it? A make or break biology test and that’s the prize?”

“The title, bragging rights, what more do you need, Vale?”

He gets closer before answering, “I think you know.”

“Ah, you want to read my thesis. Well, I’m sure we can work something out.”

Victor presses his forehead against yours. “I’m going to win, so how about I pick the prize?”

“At the rate you’re going, softie, it’ll probably be a prize for me too. If you win.”

“We’ll see.”

Victor steps back, and you take his hand to lead him inside. He watches you and mumbles, “I’m not sure there is a punishment with you, stupid.”

“Heard that!”

#victor vale x reader #victor vale #vicious #vicious ve schwab #requests #academic rivals

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gone-series-orchid · 11 months ago

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evil astrid au excerpt thing

i can't remember when this diverges from the series--i think in lies, probably. i didn't think this out too much tbh. just go with the flow i guess. i'd really appreciate feedback, but please be gentle!

Astrid made lists. She sent a rotation of kids—trustworthy ones, the younger set, ages twelve to ten—to take polls, surveys, suggestions. What needs doing? What do you want? At first she wanted to do it herself, but then after righting things (that’s how she thought of it, righting, like straightening a crooked picture frame), she realized how naïve that was. She didn’t have time to meet kids on the street and make small talk and try to convince them to care about things outside their immediate purview; she’d done that regularly for Sam and look how that turned out. Astrid was a leader now, not playing second fiddle to anyone. She had to act like it. She had to be an authority.

It took hard work to right things. Sam hadn’t wanted to give up his position. He told her again and again that he wasn’t going to budge. Astrid tried to reason with him. For months she dropped hints. Then she discussed it at length with him, going over the same talking points, trying to be patient. As time wore on, she grew frustrated.

Words wouldn’t sway him. Evoking the concept of democracy, of building some sort of parliament or council, made him hesitate, but he didn’t trust the public. Astrid didn’t blame him—she didn’t either. But it seemed the only thing Sam really responded to was violence—working with his hands, those unnatural Day-Glo green lasers about which she was increasingly concerned. If she used force, she’d have to consider the chance that he’d use them against her or any allies she might gain.

It wouldn’t come to that, she told herself. She bit her fingernails down to the quicks telling herself that. She cozied up to Sam over the course of the next few weeks, hoping that even when she usurped him, he’d remember how loving she could be. He’d remember her generosity—she let him feel her up, after all, even though the crucifix on her necklace felt punishingly cold against her breastbone every time. He’d remember how good and pliant a girlfriend she was, and soon, from a safe distance, he’d realize how much better a leader she was, too.

She was right—Sam didn’t hurt her. She still closed her eyes and saw Orc’s agape mouth, his look of dumb disbelief at seeing the clean, cauterized stump. The howl he made. The look on Sam’s face, cheesy and ill. Orc rushed at him in a blind rage, and Astrid ran at him, shouting, grabbing at him. “We’ll fix it/I’ll fix it” is what she babbled. Orc looked at his stump. After a minute, tears leaked from his eyes. His mouth was open like a child’s.

Sam went quietly after that. After he was safely locked away, Astrid sent Orc to Lana.

She went to the church, sat in the pew closest to the pulpit, and prayed. She prayed for Sam to learn humility, to tame his anger and killing light. She prayed for Lana to heal Orc as best she could and send him back to her without any resentment. She prayed for God to forgive her for being treacherous and deceitful to someone she supposedly loved. Lastly, she prayed for herself, that she may have the strength to do what she knew was right.

When she opened her eyes, she saw the fallen cross lying on the floor by the pulpit. It struck her again, the wrongness of the image. That’s the first thing I’ll have to fix, she thought with a frown. The very first thing.

Astrid returned to the town hall. In one of the adjacent rooms, Little Pete sat on a leather couch. She pulled him close and stroked his hair. That night, when all she could see when she closed her eyes was Sam burning Orc’s arm to nothing, she laced her hands tightly together and prayed again. Please, Lord, forgive me. Let me sleep tonight. I still have so much good to do.

#gone series #michael grant #the gone series #fayz #astrid ellison #the fayz #gone series fanfic

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months ago

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So I

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

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.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Summary: your casual arrangement turns a bit too serious.

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 ❤️

There’s a knock at the door. You huff as you don’t need to look through the peep hole to know who it is. No buzzer but he always finds a way.

You pick up your phone and open the chat, ‘told you I’m tired.’

The little check mark flicks down. Read. No reply comes, only another knock on the door.

‘Long day.’ You send another message.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

“You really want me to knock the door down?” Bucky chuckles through the wood.

You inhale and roll yourself off the couch. You drop the phone on the square end table as you pass and drag your feet to the door. You lean on the inside and yawn as loudly as you can.

“It’s after curfew,” you jeer. He wiggles the handle. “Go home.”

“You’re gonna leave me out here like a stray cat? Come on. I came all the way down here,” he pleads.

You turn your back to the door and shrug, “told you not to. Besides, not all of us have a soft spot for alley cats.”

“Alpine is not an ally cat. Come on, I brought beer.”

You scoff, “thought that piss didn’t do anything for ya?”

“No, but it makes you a lot of fun.”

You huff and push off the door. You turn and slide back the chain. You flip the lock back and open up. You arch a brow at your uninvited guested.

“Thank you,” you trill and grab the six pack from him. He catches the door before you can swing it shut. He tuts and steps forward, pushing his elbow into the wood until you let it go.

“Don’t play games. You know, I can tell when you’re in need of a good fucking. You don’t send any emojis.” He snaps the door shut behind him as you retreat with your prize.

“Or maybe I was trying to get you to stop texting so I could enjoy my new toy in peace. Ever think of that. Sometimes It's about efficiency, not passion.”

“Passion?” He scoffs as leans a hand on the wall and lifts a foot to undo his boot.

“Probably not the right word for this,” you free a can from the plastic rings and shove the rest in the fridge.

“You and your goddamn toys. Let me guess, this one has blue tooth.”

“Does yours?” You strut out of the kitchen and flick his arm in passing.

“No but it’s got all the features you need and you know it.” He taps your ass before you can elude him.

You crack the can of beer and take a deep gulp. The TV continues to blare the reality show retrospective you’ve been feeding your time to. You flop on the couch and sigh. You suck down the grainy brew and swallow a gulp before it can escape your throat.

Bucky looms behind the couch and grips the back. He leans over you. “How many of those until those hideous pajamas come off?”

“Ha? What? You don’t wanna fuck me in my Spongebob jammies? They’re vintage.”

He snorts, “you really are good a killing the mood, aren’t you?”

“You’re a real Squidward sometimes, you know that?” You slurp another mouthful.

“I have no idea what that is,” he says flatly as he tickles along your shoulder.

You hate it. You hate him. Just a touch and you’re ready to go. Minutes ago, you were ready to pass out but now you’re wide awake. And fucking horny.

“BPM going up, body temperature rising,” he runs his vibranium knuckles along your cheek and you wince away from him.

“I hate when you do that.” You pull away and stand, plunking down the can. You huff and peel off your tank top. “I have an interview for a promotion tomorrow so hurry up.”

“Romantic? Do you still wanna use the new toy? You know I don’t mind filling your mouth when you get like this.”

You stick your tongue out at him and point to the bedroom. He rolls his eyes and strides off. You pause the television and take another swig of beer. You need to sleep and he’s good at fucking you into a coma.

As you reach the bedroom, he’s already naked. His broad shoulders are etched in scars, the left one mottled with aged burns along the border of vibranium. His muscles cord down along his rib cage and sides.

A year ago, you would never expect a man like this to be standing naked in your bedroom. A super soldier. Bucky Barnes.

He turns to you and wiggles the little square between his two fingers. The wrapped condom reflects the overhead light with its flashy packaging. He flexes his chest as you reach to undo your bra.

“Should I pop it on now or can I get a taste first?” He asks with a flick of his tongue.

You march to him and swipe the condom from his grasp. You jab his chest and he staggers back to the bed, his legs pressing against the frame. He teeters as he smirks down at you.

“I’ll give you a ride, cowboy.”

He falls back and spreads his arms wide. The bed squeaks beneath his weight. You push down your pajama pants and climb over him. You toss the mattress to the top of the bed as you raise yourself on your knees, hovering over his head as his thick hair fans out beneath.

He turns to graze his beard against your thigh. You purr and lower yourself to smother him in your cunt. He hums and laps at you eagerly.

Mmm. This is exactly the stress relief you need.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #series #drabble #winter soldier #captain america #so i #marvel #mcu #avengers

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niningtori · 3 months ago

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for the hope of it all | parts i-iii

pairing(s): choi beomgyu x you, choi soobin x you

genre: ANGST, melodrama, romance, smut (mdni), fluff at the end

warnings: smut (mdni), beomgyu is a fucking asshole but he gets better, manipulative!gyu, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering (vaginal), oral (f. receiving), dom!gyu, dirty talk, praise, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 18.7k

notes: ... hi. literally nobody asked for this, but i realized that part 2 of this work didn't even show up in the tags, so i decided to compile all of the previous parts as well as the ending together. hopefully, you all enjoy this. i'm still struggling, but i pray you all still like it even if it's not me at my best. feedback is always appreciated :) thank you!

part i: august