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joannasteez · 4 months ago

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starship pain

pairing: cody rhodes x reader , cm punk x reader warning: explicit content (smut) minors pls dni. angst. emotional infidelity? loads of description!!! a lot of space related metaphors. authors note: lovely little request from @harmshake i hope i did your idea some justice. this takes place after mania. somethings are changed and switched around to fit my ideas. so it's a bit of an alternative universe from present kayfabe. the one flashback i have in this has a little red text noting when in the timeline of the year its set in!! word count: 14k tagging: @333creolelady @theninthwonder @kill-the-artiste @empressdede @southerngirl41 @2-muchsauce @crxssjae @coyotegirl-ramblings @luchorgasm @xbriexx @wanna-see-my-lease

...what gives a star it's character?...

temperature

color

mass

luminosity

size

...and with the display of such magnificent character, do stars not go about tirelessly with the work of inspiring awe? living wondrously bright amidst the deafening swallow of that deep void called space, so much so, that even with great distance, they exist bold enough to be witnessed. if so, then can we not be stars too? though not as great, can we not aspire, with terrible diligence, to be as breathtaking?...

and with the conclusion of wrestlemania forty, the philadelphia crowd erupts thunderous. earsplitting even. the american nightmare, cody rhodes, kneeling with tears at the heart of the ring. clutching the weight of the title belt. gold in hand, the newly crowned undisputed wwe universal champion. the hearts, minds, joys and displeasures of the people performing well to revolve in orbit around such star-like greatness.

"your moonsault needs a bit of work still". your father's voice coarse from age. his eyes unblinking. a perfectionist's stare. his penchant for over examination as lively as the sun. existing still even with the residual thrill of wrestlemania. "you're hesitating too much before you press off'.

you sigh. small enough that it goes incomprehensible. sipping at early afternoon coffee complimentary of the hotel. "it was just nerves pop", you give. because facing rhea ripley for the title, center stage in front of thousands was no easy feat. preparation took a back seat, amongst the lights and screams and hard bumps to the body. it was natural to have a seconds worth of overthought. "the match was fine'.

because it was fine. it was good. great even. two women telling a story with the violent bursting and clash of their bodies. loss be damned. it felt good to withstand the cold. to toil through limitation so fiercely. an easy break of a glass ceiling that worked well to loom above your head for some time. but your hall of fame of a father couldn't see pass the minor inconsistencies. a scrutinizer to the greatest degree.

"you should come by the gym soon. we can catch up. work through a few things together'".

catch up and work through meaning your body bouncing off a turn buckle till his satisfaction reached a good, sore, exhaustion. you pivot quickly at the thought of it. at the thought of drilling through moves and the terse cut of his voice.

you pick up your phone, hearing the shift of feet from across the hotel room. another sip of coffee that plays well over the soft closing of the bathroom door. because your father didn't need to know the details of your latest tryst. especially so soon after the events of the biggest sports entertainment night of the year. everything to him, that isn't the four sided ring, a distraction.

you smile. "doesn't sound like anything's wrong with my wrestling. sounds like you miss me".

he softens. blinks his eyes and lets his pride show through a small smile. "any father in their right mind would".

"so then say it".

"your moonsault is near flawless...", he gives. like relenting but not really. "...and i miss you".

the bedsheets ruffle behind you. your cue to end the moment before it has the chance to sour.

"we'll talk later", you give. "i have to go".

"alright. be good".

the face time call ends. gentle touching steps along the carpet of your hotel bedroom before you're slipping under puffy sheets. the philadelphia sun bursting beyond thin curtains to shape his face. blue eyes more sky than ocean under such bright warmth. his fingers quick to pull against your body. slipping up and over with a tender maneuvering till you lay against him like he seems to like. a drawn tune of a hum singing, your weight pressing in to comfort the sore, exhausted champion. his neck craning, rushing with movement to follow the run of your touch over his scalp and across the apple of his cheek. lips dipping into the heart of your palm.

"did i wake you?", you ask.

"no", cody gives. voice tired. "my phones been going crazy all morning".

your thumb caresses just beneath his bottom lip. soft and sweeping. "as expected. the price goes up when you're the champ. so does the attention".

"is that right?", tone suggestive. eyes a heavy linger along your lips.

you oblige him. a small sweet reward for all his tiresome effort. your lips, sweet and rich, tasting of coffee as they meet his. a tender meshing before they slip to slot passionate. his fingers curling into your hips. a venture to endear you, moaning lazy as his body forms deeper into the sheets. mouths parting only so his indulgences can lead him else where. wet, tongue led kisses along your pulse. hot breath and the dull graze of his teeth. surely overwrought still by the thrill of the night before. this morning version of him performing with a delirious high. his every touch sure and firm. the hands of a champion.

"how does it feel?"

a deep breath. weighing the question with silence. finding a home for his yet to be spoken thoughts in the dip of your neck. the part of his lips there producing a shiver up your spine.

"good. it feels good". the shine in his eyes threatening to wane. "scary. now i have to actually carry it. do some good with it".

you kiss him sweetly. a plant of reassurance. "you will". words kind as you roll on your side to face him. catching the beginnings of an etch in of adoration as he fails to look away from you. a semblance of something near unpleasant troubling your chest. like being under the weight of his gaze is too much to bare.

"thank you for being here".

"of course".

"i couldn't get to you properly last night. it all moved so fast after the match. one thing after the other".

you find yourself ruffling through his hair again. your own will, making to ingratiate your senses to him. like staining the skin to lay a good base for memory. "it's ok. m'here now", mouth on him. an urge that lives with imperfections, your tongue flicking soft, lapping over sweetly till it works away that ambivalent trouble in your belly. urges growing greater by the second till they form with an edge too defined to ignore. eager now, to feel him against skin. the way the mellow heat of him flares under your palm, melting the worry till it runs off into desire. this performance of a great gravitational pull.

regulating yourself to one drink for the night is a testier task than originally thought, but it works well enough. the celebratory buzz of the room filling in where the warmth of liquor doesn't. the philadelphia skyline sparkling the dark chill of the night as the closed in rooftop swells up to a comfortable fullness. wrestling stars at every corner. drinks in hand and simple, cheery conversation. the scene of it all, once a dream, talked of and imagined, now a reality as you maneuver amidst it all.

a firm take to your arm pulls you toward the secrecy of a corner. your lips failing to keep away from a pull up of excitement. heels clicking to keep the pace as you're rounded about a tall column and tucked away behind it. cody pressing in. a lazy little kiss against your mouth that tastes like his drink of choice. the glass clutched in his hand still, attempting not to spill it.

not so long after your intimate morning did you both part. post-mania obligations too much of a priority to ignore.

his free hand slips into the slit of your dress. fingers curling into your thigh. a silky brown number that matches his undone suit. his tie loose, his jacket gone and the vest unbuttoned. cheeks dusted a faint pink. his mouth pressing into your pulse. housing there to feel the warmth corralling under the skin.

and with only a few weeks of this relationship have you confirmed just how affectionate cody is. his every touch made to linger, his smile luminous and his words warm as they work tirelessly to sink into skin.

"you look", a kiss to your cheek. "absolutely beautiful angel", and another to your mouth.

you smile. lip tucking under your teeth. "thank you". fingers running to crease his shirt. pulling him closer. the curt shuffle of his shoes clicking forward as your back flushes up into the corner. your eyes sweeping over his mouth. reaching to lick in for a kiss that makes him groan. "you look good too". tasting the bitterness washing his tongue before going in for more. "very good", a purr of a moan floating in that makes his breath hitch before he's groaning soft. a mindless overworking of nerves you're sure. because the weeks with him thus far—albeit fresh—have been nothing short of a teasing game. heavy traveling and the looming possibility of a good passion not yet explored. that trouble in your belly shortening the full breath of your desires.

you break for air, remembering where you are. he downs the rest of his drink. clutching the glass still.

"you had a lot to drink?", you ask. wiping at his mouth with your thumb. licking at the residual bits of liquor.

his eyes trailing over your lips. unhurried to meet back at your eyes. "not too much. this was my last. m'tappin out early".

"good", you give. tugging at the undone part of his vest. keeping him flushed up against you so that the strength of his cologne steeps in. "cause i need you sober. we have unfinished business".

his free hand still finds itself making a home beyond the slit of your dress. kneading just where your thigh rounds out into the supple flesh of your bottom. a firm squeeze that's all possession. the action risky, but exhilaratingly so. his words toughing out with a groaning. "fuck the party then".

"no. enjoy it". slipping from under him slowly. "we'll have plenty of time later".

a final look of promise before you click away. deep tempering breaths that work to quell your own rise of desire. cheeks hot and your body beneath the delicate dress teeming with the memory of his touch. sensations comfortable enough that they leave you wanting. borderline desperate. but yes, what lives of the the draw, the pull of him, all a symptom of simple necessity. his everything sure enough to fall into. a security exacting to an almost bothersome degree. but maybe this full consumption isn't a bad thing, after past failures and flings too loose and undefined. shapeless, wordless things. maybe cody is what you need. your body tucking to lean into the wall that meets the end of the rooftop bar. "gin and tonic", you order.

soft clutching hands at your shoulder. you turn. bianca belair beaming with excited knowing eyes and a smirk. "you got blondie real red in the face", she starts. slipping up next to you. "no thoughts, just half of a three piece suit and a vibe".

you smile with her. feeling heat in your cheeks and a swirl in your belly. the intimacy of your relationship with cody no outright secret, but the confirmation of it never really reaching the great private sphere of your friends and friendly acquaintances. because it was business only yours and cody's to keep or share, but bianca is a good friend. closer than most. a former tag team partner. a nxt sister. and the playfulness of her curiosities were always as fun to indulge in as they were to hear.

"a real nasty vibe", you chuckle. "that man was trying to give ya'll a PLE from the corner. i had to slip away while i could".

"and i get it cause this brown and gold!?", her hand taking yours to spin you around. appraising the the beauty of your dress and accessories. her fingers dabbing up under an eye and sniffling with faux tears. "i taught you so well".

"you really did".

both of you laughing and sipping at your drinks.

"is it serious?", her tone shifting firm.

the question forcing you into a bout of consideration you've attempted to stray from on many occasions. but it's crucial nonetheless. a conclusion you'll have to come to regardless.

"i mean, i don't know". thumb rubbing against the chill of your glass. taking to a silent mull over. the past few weeks or so a whirlwind of affection. secret rendezvous' and late night calls. the tenderness of him working with an endless drive, even amongst the world of work set before the both of you. "we're slow burning it a bit but i think the end goal for him is to have something serious".

and your wording doesn't go unnoticed, not that you want it to. some part of you maybe looking to gain some much needed perspective. a nudge in the direction you feel is necessary. and she doesn't fail in delivering it. "you deserve something stable. the casual shit is cool but it's not forever".

you sigh. memory serving well of your former trysts with a different superstar. "i agreed on that being casual".

"you can agree to a lot when you think the dick is good". sipping at her drink. "he's here by the way".

and if you pretend not be be affected by the possibility of seeing him, of being seen by him, then doesn't that null the existence of the feeling all together? that twist in of nerves in your belly. residual things, like words and perhaps sentiments left to wander the void of space formally known as a very casual but fevered, undefined union of legs and lips. a deep passion left to succumb to the suffocating elements of space and time.

"i figured he'd be".

his name is a draw. of money, eyes and thoughts. his return causing this gravitational pull of the people, controversial or otherwise. a veteran in his own right. for him not to be seen at a celebration of the greatest night in their business would be confounded and weird.

"you good with all that though? i know it ended kinda all of a sudden".

from passion all the time to none at all. hour long drives and last minute flights. apartments and not so high floor hotel rooms. his name seemingly forever written into the slip and work of your tongue. free and casual but still working so sure in that space of passion that the feeling of being beholden to one another felt more truer by the day. living too sporadically—and maybe too unrestrained—still though, to last well enough on its own. because without the consistency of light, how is anything sure to grow? and then in came cody, prying away your attention with the ease and experience of a star born to evoke awe. his light pleasant and safe.

you shrug. "you live and learn, you move on. i'm good where i am".

bianca smiles. her arms a nice embrace. "as you should be. m'happy for you".

"thank you", you give. her warmth contagious. your body squeezing into the hug.

and when she's called away, montez drunkenly whisking his wife to another corner of the room, she parts with an apologetic smile. mouthing "sorry", as her sloshed to capacity of a husband drags her along with him. leaving you to live alone at the end of the bar, newly made acknowledgements of your relationship resting over you thickly. a tight take of adrenaline to your nerves. small sips of your drink working only to occupy your hands. unwilling to decipher the root of such a rush. fear or excitement. either way, the feeling of it drops your belly and leaves the tiny hairs everywhere to stand on end. because this has happened before, drawing too close to the power of a star too soon, burning amongst the void before the possibility of impact.

shoes click, approaching beside you. his cologne familiar. a scent made to intrigue. memory slipping in to harshen the roll over happening in your belly. of course he'd be here. the self proclaimed 'best in the world', the second city saint, the straight edged superstar. after some months of nothing, cm punk is alive and looking too well for you to stand.

you sip again. a cool lean up again the wall. eyes patient as they go about examining him whole. his doing just the same.

he looks good in a suit, much to your dismay.

"you clean up well", you give. meeting his eyes. standing firm against the heaviness of his gaze.

"so i've been told", slipping closer. his body leaning up against the bar to rest just as coolly as you have against the wall. a casual disposition so incredibly indicative of your times together. "you look beautiful. nothing new for you though".

"you're letting your grays grow out again".

"a new era, a new look". his palm smoothening over the salt and pepper patches of hair. a smile running through his lips. "you always did like them".

a fight to arrest the heat in your cheeks and old memories. "so what, this is about me?"

"such a smart girl", he chuckles. "i love it when you state the obvious".

you grin at his teasing. "i just had one of the most important nights of my life', shoving up against him playfully. "you can't be a dick to me".

"you did well by the way". a sincerity that makes something bloom over the skin. a jittered feeling you choose to ignore as he continues. "a nice bag of new little moves and tricks, it was good shit for your first mania. get rid of that moonsault though, it doesn't fit you".

you scoff. "oh cause you know what fits".

body bracing for impact just after such a wild take to flight. the words leaving before you can think them over. his shoulders shaking as he laughs.

"i've had the pleasure of knowing a time or two".

"oh fuck you punk".

"i mean...", dark earthy eyes sweeping over your lips. a lazy, patient journey over your body. a show of his appraisal. "...i don't know if you can. given your new boy toy and all".

"i'm bound to get a new toy if the old one breaks". not that cody is a toy. no. he's no play thing in the slightest. a sudden need to defend him in that right springing up till its thick in your mouth. stitching into words. his every intention appearing precise and laid bare. sweet gestures and impassioned words. his everything lingering long enough for you to notice. "it's a lot more serious than you think".

"so it seems", voice neutral, but appearing in his eyes to live, these little slivers of disappointment.

its something not meant to harp on for the sake of your own peace. but they try their damnedest to penetrate. working diligent. enough for the air to feel too warm and thick to breathe in. your barely touched drink a nuisance and the friendly crowd of the celebration too much to handle. and thank God for cody, your attention catching his motions for you. slipping through the crowd to head for the entry-exit doors. a make to leave as he catches your eyes to join him.

"i should...i should go-"

"that's a smart decision".

cody's tongue tastes like his drink of choice. room temperature whiskey. the lap of it lazy and patient, aiming to steep into the palate. his lips soft, twisting wet as they go about the work of ingratiating the senses. his hands following suit. a tight journey over the skin, heat flaring up in the wake of such an ardent touch. curling in to leave cratered impressions. his movements breathtaking, your body hoisted up in his arms before you're bouncing into the fluff of the bed. persistent fingers and his mouth ready, tongue dipping into where your body pliantly unfolds for him. your legs spreading with guidance. an exposure to the air that pulls a shiver through the body.

"so pretty", musing to himself. tongue slipping deep. warm and wet and earnest. groaning from a pleasure that comes with pleasure. your inner thighs suffering under the gripping weight of his touch. a steady hold that keeps you open for him. "been thinkin about this all day".

you hiss. touch filled with delirium. your belly overwrought and filling in hot. skin breaking away from the chilly philadelphia air. your hips testing their limits. a gentle swing up that catches against the rhythm of his mouth. a sweet suckle to your clit that shortens the air in your chest.

his thumb joins the fray. teases the messy drool of arousal pooling to drip lazy like. a dull circling at that broaches the possibility but nothing more. leaving you with the desire to be filled to the hilt. your pussy pulsing hard against his tongue. clenching about nothing, waiting impatient as he revels in his own play at giving pleasure.

"cody please", voice near broken. a sweet little plea.

he leaves you spread. watches your little performance of appeal. nails painted a color that leaves a beautiful contrast against your soft skin. slipping sweet at the bud of your clit. holding his eyes. enchantment and lust. the light of his desire bright enough that it reflects beautifully off your skin. curving its way up the body. paints itself warm over the work of your pleasure. melting in till its swirling heavy at the base of your belly. a sensation that grows easy. another groan erupting, surely from that clinging sensation you've bought to his tongue. pulsing and shivering. singing and moaning wispy for him. a full consumption that breaks the resolve you've built so easily. and when his thumb sinks into the fat of your clit, circling deep and persistent, you sink further into the sheets. a sharp "fuck", breaking into the air. your nerves unruly as they go in their frenzy.

your body drunk, senses beautifully askew. a quick to arrive release that speaks to his determination.

his mouth messy and slipping over your inner thighs. working to kiss your belly and through the valley of your breast. tongue peaking before it flattens over the perk of your nipples. an involuntary rut in your hips rushing up into him. the sensation like kindling for a fire.

you taste yourself. pulling your lips to his. the whiskey and that dangerous steep in of your own arousal. his hands nailed into the sheets. your own freeing him from his underwear. hot and hard in your hand. slipping him through slick arousal, to feel how awfully ready he is for you, before you're guiding him in with a desperate hand. head tipping into the bed as you feel the wet split as he goes. a hiss of enjoyment as he deepens, resting just over the end of you.

cody hums. diving his nose into the scent of your perfume. the stain of it at your neck arresting him. hips knocking in firm. deft and easy. working you open to take him.

your palms sweep over muscle. to layer over that already laid foundation of memory. his back taut and strong. nails clawing in as he fills you whole. your lips parting. breaths taken. belly coiling with the threat of release. and here the work of taking him in feels more than good. that troubling knot of ambivalence that once warred beneath the skin, trampled upon with a temporary defeat, as his hips work steadily.

"you feel so good", a moaning drawl of words.

an admission that slips its way to settling into thick air. performing well enough to saturate the room. and its true. cody feels good. amazing. his warmth gentle, and his everything near flawless.

the man wrapped in your arms, the reigning undisputed universal champion, is only near flawless. this, a thought that slips deep into your conscience. taking root aggressively so. but are stars not perfect in shape? bright and the enormity of them sensational. great enough in size that the draw of them from within performs well enough to gather equally at every side. a faultless sphere of a shape indeed. and has he not—in spite of your damning early morning sentiments—taken on that part of a stars character? wearing it warm and well. the wrestling world revolving to orbit his dazzling spectacle of victory amongst the mania. then what of it could be so wrong as to call him only near flawless and not flawless simply? the touch of his skin and the pull of his lips gracious even in hunger and looking to consume. a ready made heat not so dissimilar to a great star.

it's clear. so very fucking clear, amidst the slow creep in of the morning, as your phone vibrates with a call, just where the doubt reeks from.

'the best in the world' showing up as caller ID. because you never changed the name. because you never had the heart to leave him nameless even. slipping from the sheets, from the comfortable weight of cody's body. a fluffy robe over your skin as you slide the balcony doors of the hotel room open. answering his call.

those slivers of disappointment in his eyes from last night. performing well enough to disrupt your feelings. like the grand effects of a solar flare.

"have breakfast with me", he starts.

no preamble to give you room to deflect. a sigh heavy as it leaves you. his morning voice coarse and unfortunately satisfying. maybe you should've stayed in bed. wrapped yourself deeper beneath the sheets and the lay over of cody's body.

"we lose a little contact and you forget your manners. that's unfortunate".

he chuckles. "please?"

"that took a lot out of you huh?"

"not really". a dramatic little pause, because punk does have a flare for it. albeit in small doses, in his own way. and you can feel him smiling through the phone. can feel the change in tone just before he can give it. "begging is just usually more your thing than it is mine".

and the truth only hurts, vexes the nerve so, because it is the truth. because it has life. breathing and smiling with the sole objective of tethering itself ungraciously to every little thing you do.

"can you not?"

"you like it".

slivers of guilt. peering to look through the glass of the balcony door. cody still sleeping, peacefully unaware. but what is there to be guilty of? the past solely the past. this little phone call but a blip in time. a soundless action amidst the airless void of space.

"ok, m'sorry". he relents. receiving your silence in full. "i'll stop".

"i can't do breakfast. it wouldn't feel right".

"it's just coffee and a little chit chat".

lies. "i've never had just coffee with you...", memory serving right as the words grow heavy and thick. leaving the tongue less easy than you'd like them to. months of passioned tryst' and rendezvous, from city to city, before and not so long after his return to the company. "...it's always had some accompaniment to it".

he hums. "i know how to respect a boundary if that's what you're worried about".

slivers of guilt still. a pang in your chest. the cool morning philadelphia air doing nothing to lessen the heat in your cheeks. "the boundary isn't just for you", admission quick and terse. angered that it had to leave.

this slow to slip along silence. a lazy passing over before he's chuckling again. like the type of amusement you get after a small win. his voice is all raspy satisfaction. "i see", he gives.

"i'm sure whatever you want to say over coffee, you can just say over the phone right now".

"you gonna make me bare my soul over some fuckin radio waves?"

it'd all be a less ceremonious go of words. not so serious. as shapeless and uncategorized as the months were with him.

"you are notorious for saying things you probably shouldn't, so keep that in mind".

"old habits unfortunately die very hard sweetheart".

a chill creeping up the spine. riding in along the morning air. "it's almost eight a.m., it's not even a good time to be sharing all this...sentiment".

"then give me a time and place".

"i don't know punk, whenever you can get to a target closest to you", laughing a little. the rejection feeling sweet and easy as it leaves you. "they sell journals and diary's with matching pens. that's a good place to put all of your little feelings".

"ouch".

you stand. watching cody slowly make his way to the bathroom through the glass balcony window. your hand against the handle to slide it open. "i have to go". a quick throw of words before you end the call. pride slowly inching over the skin.

a successful deterrent.

the “archangels moonsault", a name coined by a collective of your fathers contemporaries. his performance of the golden triangle moonsault habitually flawless. appearing more angel than man as his body soared for some seconds. awe forever struck across the color of your eyes at such a spectacle, so much so, that you wished to live it. and so it went, a song and dance done many times before. the child of a legend attempting to step beyond that harrowing shadow in hopes of creating their own. the awe inspired, attempting now to inspire awe. like the cinematic feat of interstellar travel, viable only through the art of imagination. a play at the impossible, and nothing more. the perpetual falling short of a dangerous aspiration. nerves fraying at the seams and a deep plummeting of the heart. angst, a side effect of near flawlessness. starship pain.

"just keep workin at it", cody said once. watching your frustration after failing to perfect your fathers beloved moonsault. the precision of it lacking. your body insistent on underperformance. resentful of the air.

the encouragement working against its own intention. a bitterness rising to meet your tongue. but the near success of it grows palpable on your fingertips. nagging the nerve endings there so much that it forces into the skin a deep repetition. a cycle of the same thing for weeks on end—house shows, and training, and live events and training, and meet and greets and training, and merch signings and training, and interviews and training, and photoshoots and training—till the system grew faithful. and whichever cracks of free time expose themselves are quickly remedied with cody. because if all these distractions exists, then the time to decipher the bitterness growing on your tongue has no room to live. the ambivalence attempting to sneak in your belly once again, snuffed out by other things.

and friday night smackdown becomes an interesting state of affairs amidst your little world of moonsault turmoil. cody and punk both drafted, a feud storyline written up by creatives. the new undisputed champion versus the self proclaimed best in the world. a guarantee for money and ratings. which always means good business. your draft to smackdown a grounds for opportunity just the same. a fresh creative direction post-mania. but such good chances don't stop your body's war with itself. feeling the toil of the work, that faithful routine, and refusing to surrender from it's grudge. resentful of the air still.

but cody remains. his touch heated and sure. a sweet kiss to your skin in the privacy of a dressing room before your first match on the smackdown brand. the memory of his words sticking as you make to kiss him. 'just keep workin at it'. the rush of affection feeling odd.

"you okay?", his eyes searching. thumb swiping gentle, palm holding at your cheek.

"yeah", your body odd in it's skin. tempted to leave but feeling the need to stay. you grab his hand. a gentle squeeze of assurance. "i think it's just nerves".

"you been workin at it hard. it's gonna pay off", he gives. his smile small but bright still. a hand roaming gentle. soothing up your back.

but the second city saint was, is, never too far behind. posturing himself as the metaphorical rock, adamant on flushing you uncomfortably against a hard place. slivers of mischief in his stride and in coarse perfected words. the smackdown before backlash interesting to say the least. proving itself as the first domino. the main event of the night a strategic volley of words. the returned superstar and the undisputed champion. the knot tying itself about your belly barbarous as it works, watching them dig into each other with dramatic promises of destruction. the usual song and dance of a good promo. waiting for something terrible that affirms the odd abrupt spring ups of guilt and that bitterness refusing to leave your throat. everything of your romance, center stage and dazzling with bright lights for all the world to see. and when the words stop, the crowd jeering for who they hate and loud in delight for who they love, the air grows thick with the way it deafens.

rough thudding drops of their microphones before that faithful rushing in. fire in their eyes and a close size up of the competition. good drama for the crowd.

punk breaks with a laugh. similar in an amusement you've heard, felt before. like he's won a small victory. wholly fucking satisfied and happy about it. reaching to whisper something in cody's ear. words that penetrate more than they're supposed to. something a little less fire filled than anger striking bold along cody's expression. like a smoldering yet to come fully ablaze.

and it is said that for every star, there is a loss of mass in it's life time. a lessening of that gravitational pull. a change of character that threatens its awe.

his skin warm, but not as balmy. his kiss sweet but the comfort of it waning. the journey to seeing to its ease seeming more painful than letting it be. but the need to try breathes still. living bored and tired and thin, but alive nonetheless. the late hours between the end of the live show and his first official title defense quiet and terrible. all of his little bright smiles and tender touches gone. the beauty of the french hotel drained by this sudden standstill. blue eyes colder and distant. taken by the trouble of overthinking.

text message | outgoing: wtf did you say to him?

text message | the best in the world: what's my name saved as in your phone?

your fingers feel weak. tired and unable. the nerves there doing well in fraying at the seams. held hostage by a guilt that refuses to leave.

text message | the best in the world: i'm not really a write my feelings in journals kinda guy, you should know that. i want to see your pretty little face for a chat still. whenever you decide to stop avoiding me.

text message | outgoing: boundaries remember? or are the new gray hairs screwing your memory

text message | the best in the world: well i figure a little courtesy closure is in order before your boy gets his ass whipped on live television.

text message | outgoing: closure? can't really close a door that never existed can you?

a thick, curling cloud of steam rolls into the hotel bedroom from the open door of the shower. a silent invitation to join him—an olive branch living still in spite of his sudden brooding—that your body refuses to indulge. but the air does well in an attempt to suffocate you anyways. skin sweltering uncomfortably. or maybe it's just the ambivalence in your belly and the dull taste of something wrong on your tongue. frayed nerves and this half shaped desire to leave. all of these symptoms living as the summation of...of something that feels too harsh to speak to. your eyes take a steady read over the chain of messages. a once over that happens too many times to happen just once and yet there is no clarity of thought here.

closure? a type of reconciliation afforded to people once terribly impassioned. and yes, your times with him were fevered. fierce little meetings that left you craving more. but never did the attraction burn so much as to bring about such a heat, that lived closer to something like love than not, or whatever he seems to be feeling.

but there was that one time in albany. a confusing, charged little tryst. different from the others. his fingers curling in so deep then that he'd bruised your skin, like he was trying to remember you-

"so...", cody starts. a simple word edged with hesitation. bath towel wrapped about his waist as he pads out of the steam of the bathroom. skin wet and tantalizingly inviting. "...you and punk?" and finally it comes. the source of his brooding, his silence. that dejection of touch and affection.

your phone grows heavy in your hands. plops along the sheets like a weight. "old news", words ironed and pressed. dressed up in a surety, that if spoken with enough, can be believable. because the second city saint is old news.

his eyes are cold. a gray-blue snatched from the impending roll in of a storm. "feels pretty current", he sighs. turns to the table below the bedroom mirror. searching through a small bag of things. lotions and colognes and clothes and such. his perfect teeth spreading mirthless. "very current actually".

your body anchors to the bed, and curiosity an anchor in your body. inspires a refusal to move—to go to him, to ease the tension in his shoulders—as the sharp edges of it rip through till it holds deep enough.

"what'd he say to you?"

"nothing worth repeating...", hands rubbing about his face. a serum moisturizer. taking up small work as he finds and treads slow through words. tone like that of an interrogators though not nearly as violent. but the suspicion in him bothers to root well enough that it can't be hidden. can't be done away with easily. "just implying a bunch of... of shit. which is interesting because punks not that type of guy on the mic. if it needs to be said, he makes it plain..."

"its a work probably...". tone cool. indifferent. the sensation resting in your belly just the opposite. words spilling, living two fold. an attempt at persuasion overflowing so well that it performs for him and yourself just the same. "...ratings, clicks, views. it's drama for tv".

"well it feels pretty damn personal".

"and what?", you scoff. "winning mania wasn't?"

cody recedes. softens. because winning at mania was personal. business but very personal. the stakes of such a win clinging to the base of his emotions at every breath and turn till the belt rested in his hands. that much you could feel, drawing closer to him in those months—a sweet, innocent friendship born from this great host of similarities—till nearly every moment was spent with each other. his words and his thoughts and his touches becoming more intimate. affections as clear as the perfect beauty of his smile. and then comes the guilt, a drizzle against the air, like the first damning drops before the inevitable chaos of a down pour. your body lighter now. the will to leave him be, to wrestle with his feelings by his lonesome unanchored by the shame of doing so.

"am i being crazy about this?", he asks.

you move to him. crossing the exceptional size of the room to embrace him. arms encircling and your eyes gentle. his skin warm and comfortable. your body fighting itself still though, even amidst the vulnerability of him, battling back these slivers of a temptation to leave. "it's a mind game. don't let him win".

his hands venture. a smooth, sweeping take along your arms till they cradle your face. thumbs tender as they roll at the apple of your cheeks. "and us? this is it right? we're solid?"

your eyes flick to his lips in a means to inspire within yourself some true meaning of devotion. desire and fidelity. your mouth pressing sweetly to the seam of his as you pull him into a deeper embrace. words kept unsaid. buried alive before the work of a damning departure. your tongue soft and slipping gentle. wet and precious enough to elicit a moan. the tension in him waning as he goes, falling further into your show of affection. shoulders unburdened and the heat returning pleasantly to his skin. a performance that convinces only his hesitations and nothing of your own.

and that lack of conviction reigns over heavily. devastatingly so. failure thundering about your chest, slipping wild through the arms and legs, till it swims heavily about the head. ambivalence working ungracious in the body, like a storm of solar proportions. because cody had done well at backlash, performed greatly against the second city saint as they went head to head in their first of a best of three match.

but you—your knees buckling just after the press off for the archangels moonsault—do terribly. a harsh botch that leaves your feet to slip, head hitting against the ring before your body can be properly caught. a concussion that blurs your vision for the remainder of the match.

a number of horrible executions that follow, equilibrium disrupted, all amounting to a slow paced performance. your body resentful, spiteful now too.

this attempt at a diligent work of resting comfortably in the security of cody's everything, like a roaming out into the hostile environment of space. unprepared and certainly unfit for such an expedition of passion. a fast deterioration of desire and the weakening of a strength to see to its survival.

this longing for a good and whole and secure thing, a need pulsing your heart strong and persistent, now inverted, though working with the same vigor, to bring you under with a maddening sort of frailty. a self induced bout of muscle atrophy.

"a break", is what hunter is calling it. his words and eyes this odd, cold meshing of empathy and business. a command that lives without the room to resist and it stings even the strongest parts of your ego.

punishment by the ether, for aspiring to reach so far, with so much confidence, for something never meant to be had. because stars exist out of reach, with light years of distance, for a reason.

and the doctor gives a definitive "no" on flying back to the states. a futile joke to follow about getting much needed rest in the "city of love", which in full effect lurches your stomach into a fit so disgusting that it empties. that bile troubling itself in your belly, waiting for its call to action, finally revealing its putrid nature to be formidable and unrelenting. a symptom of the concussion they say, but you know, above all things medically sound, that this is just violent revenge inflicted upon the self. the body taunting the mind for its ill-purposed ambition. trying to fall into something comfortable and love-like with cody was, is, and would always be ill-purposed ambition.

the air of the suv heavy with that leather interior smell. rolling smooth and slow against the parisian streets on its way back to the hotel.

cody's finger playing along yours with a soothing caress. a patient concern brushing up the drained make of your face from his eyes. soft music living under the sound of his voice as he goes. "they'll probably clear you to fly in a few days. i can get someone to book a flight for you, and you can just… just be with me...", a gentle tone but living definitive. committing himself to your care. a security you'd always hoped to fully adore. "...and im not saying this like you're unfit to take care of yourself but i wanna help...", his blue eyes looking for a response and receiving much of nothing. a shallow head nod that keeps him rambling. "...i wanna—just let me do this for you. please?", his hand squeezing yours. a feather weight gesture. "let me take care of it, okay?"

you blink. eye lids heavy with exhaustion. a drained sensation that leaves you too undone for any proper recognition of feeling other than emptiness. your voice hoarse, the acid moving up violent enough that it stole away the fullness of it.

"i hear you cody".

the last words said to him before his departure from france in the morning.

an army of texts and calls heating your phone as the sun rose and rested amongst the clouds with a far comfortable distance. a reminder of terribly fated ambitions. water at your bedside that felt like heaven as it settled in and down the body.

five calls from bianca and encouragement texts of the "i love you" variety. one call from your father and a message that read more definitive than suggestive. "come home when you can", it said. and a text from him.

text message | the best in the world: heard hunter put you on a bit of a break. im here for you when you need me.

not if, but when. the confidence even amongst the sympathy, frustrating. an imagining of his cool, more sage than forest, green eyes screwed with pity. the thought of it beating a harsh heat pass skin into blood. rolling in amongst the red till it rushes to anger. a pounding in your skull and a light nausea rocketing the delicate lining of your belly. laid out along the length of a too beautiful parisian couch, your body forced to endure the harsh gravitational pull back down to earthly reality. for there could no longer be an ambitious voyage to that outer enormity, in search of bright, wonderful, comfortable lights. a star so secure in its character that you make no qualms with the threat of it burning your skin before even the reach of full impact. and truly how stupid and cowardly was it anyways? fearful of a different end so much as to suffer with something that just barely scratches the surface of fulfillment.

fearful of the ill-controlled, imperfect things so terribly that you looked upward in an escape to the stars.

and though albany, new york is not the perfect choice, it is the most suitable option for what you need. a quiet, reclusive setting that works well for all this wonderfully, amazing, burdensome introspection you've been forced to endure. truths roaming tirelessly about your skull as they look and wait with impatience to be fully actualized. and maybe—agreeing with his decisions against your better judgement and instinct—hunter was right. this "break", needed. a thing that could not be put off on the account of some bruised ego. countless little mishaps and slip ups in ring that had eventually led to a nasty botch during the biggest PLE since mania. the look of it not great for business or your health. but to hear it, to feel the full rejection of it, tears through you something fierce. a complete tattering of your pride till it remained undone in mangled pieces. raw and red and blood filled. and once the doctors give their clearance for you to fly, you leave france silently. without a word to anyone. bags and suitcases packed and ready. the flight to new york like a shipping over into uncharted territory.

because some truths had made themselves painfully aware already. did not wait for your slow foot drag of a realization. funneling up hot and disgusting with the bile from your empty stomach.

trying with cody was only a dream, forced and sculpted by your hands and a stubborn will, till it formed with jagged edges. the struggle to fit two unmatched puzzle pieces.

"your old man'll kill me if he knows you're up here with me and not training with him". a ghost of a laugh living along with the coarse age of his voice. jimmy "the butcher" cruz, a dear old friend of your fathers, and a hall of famer in his own right, sighing agreeably as he speaks over the phone. "but you're welcome any time kiddo. you like my own, y'know that? the gym is here whenever you need it to be".

"i appreciate you butch", you give. the slow ride to your hotel quiet and familiar.

"let me know if you need anything else".

"will do".

the call drops. a blow of air past your lips working well enough as it plays an odd tune of some mild mannered frustration. a soreness of spirit where the body breathes and functions well, systems and internal processes going on as they should but still there rests this adrift feeling. a weightless sensation. fatigue and an imbalance of any direct thought. confusion. symptoms of the concussion surely, which only do well in leaving you to exist in this dead space limbo. an auto pilot of movement. muscles remembering the weight of things. your suitcases and bags, and the heavy swing back of the hotel doors. memory bruised but alive. because you don't have an explanation for returning to albany. your foot stepping into the quaint beauty of the hotel room like aggressively lifting the unfinished heal of a scab. being here, in this place, like your body is taking the long, necessary journey back down to earth. hot on impact of the surface but ready to land.

your lips suffering under your teeth and your fingers tingling. a wistful air working about you, brushing up against your skin as a reminder of times past. here in this place with him, before the abrupt end of it all.

flashback - january 2024 - albany, new york

and it is said, by scientists and theologians alike, that before the creation of everything, there was nothing. whether the world came to be from a Godly "let there be", or this abrupt but explosive expansion across the cosmos, the truth remains here, that we exist not of our own casual volition. and so if this coming into being—a devastatingly beautiful ripple through that forever stretch of space—is as ornate in nature as it is said to be, then how is it that one can exist so unceremoniously with another? passion this slow, steady expansion like that of the universe. his name on your tongue and his grip nestled into delicate skin. eyes fashioned with colors to rival that of those painting the faraway galaxies and the breaths singing between coarse little moaning songs, a great imitation of the wind. surely these are bouts of madness, giving frivolous, near shapeless names, for such heavy performances of affection.

or maybe it isn't insanity. because don't we always give awful, insufficient names to things we hate. and even more terrible names to things we fear.

the apple state inn, a small time hotel in albany, new york, is not known for it's size or luxury. a just off the exit, two and a half, maybe three star rated establishment—google reviews and the website beg to differ with one another—with a scarce housekeeping staff and forever stale, day old coffee. always near empty vending machines and a just out of high school receptionist who doesn't know the difference between credit and debit and counts change like they're counting sheep. but the walls are thick and the privacy is immaculate. immaculate enough that it'd be more useful and cost effective to keep from printing do not disturb cards than not. because once the door closes behind him and that roll of his mini suitcase follows him in, you figure—with the way he's nearly suffocating you with his mouth—that he needs all the undisturbed time he can get.

the cloud over of steam and a stream of hot, prickly, shower water. your fingers sudsy as they comb through the slick, soaked ways of his hair. thumbs sweeping at his nape before the caress behind his ears. these tender little dotting ministrations that make him groan some. a dark, near weightless, trembling sort of song humming up his throat. tattooed fingers feeling stitched into the soft flesh of your hips as the water works to wash away the soapiness of his hair. his nose nudging into yours and the slight height of him leaving this impression about you that he's surrounding you some. working to consume. to prove with a wordless go of his everything that he's the best in the world.

that thick curl of heat and the prod of his hard dick against your leg don't help either. his tongue jutting against your lips—a little lick that you chase with enthusiasm—as he smooths it over his own. such a damn tease. your body alive and burning with a war of feelings. not so little sensations that burst at your neck and your mouth and your chest and the warmth pulsing between already wet legs. the proximity of him damning to whatever words you used before to name your current state of affairs. because this seems a little more than casual. a little too charged and full of breath and life to be just a fulfillment of those nagging, sultry, desperate, bodily desires. because it's never felt this impassioned before. this slow and meticulous. a strangulation about the heart that makes the muscle somehow pump harder, faster. like if it fights for life, for it's right to be as its always been, than maybe it can survive the domineer of whatever this is.

the soap dissolves from his hair, washing down into the drain. your fingers remaining still. running dull over his scalp. a deep caressing. an act living so well that it forms it's own memory in your fingers. the seam of his lips pecking at yours. tiny, lax, unhurried kisses that work like they have till the end of the expansion of the universe.

a laugh cuts up from your chest. like it's unsure it even wants to escape. a fear that it'll have to explain itself.

cool green eyes and a spark of diligence you've only seen him have when he's wrestling. "what?"

"nothing, it's just...", eyes failing to meet him. dim as they take to the littered ink all over his chest instead. "...this is strangely intimate no?" because it is. the usual air of your rendezvous' living with a more curt edge to it. an urgency of spirit. something great and simple and to the point. made and brought about from a deep mutual attraction, but for the pure sake of fulfillment.

and maybe your words, amounting to this cautioned little question, have put some distance between your bodies. like the air and nerve to say it leaves the both of you just a little more distant than seconds before. and it must have, because he's fastening himself to you. skin pressing hotly over skin, a slow mold, leaving you to shiver up against cool tiling. mouth still a sweet tease over yours. palm sweeping down and under to cup your thigh till it's hitching up into his palm and cinched to his waist. "i take last minute flights to nameless little, kinda three star hotels, to eagerly stick my dick in you...", his hips canting up. nudging at the sensitive bloom of your slit. lips at the curve of your ear. his breath hot and your skin shuddering. "...and i'm not knockin the hotels..", he chuckles. "...i'm just sayin. it's a bit of a journey to make it to you. this whole thing has been pretty intimate in a way for a while".

you take slim little nips at your lip. "does that bother you?"

an earnest moan escaping as he slots his lips along yours for a real kiss. the gentleness of it turning sharp as his teeth glide to pull your lip. "why would it?...", tongue led kisses. hands cradling him hostage. his mouth tasting like the sweets he indulges in before he meets you. "...our whole thing is a little informal but that doesn't mean we can't have a moment...", nipping a trail to your neck and kissing over the slights as he goes. breath at your pulse and the thick heat of him slotting and nudging still between your legs. "...or moments". his words these actors of persuasion. as if muddying the lines of a casual thing has ever been good for anyone foolish enough to do it.

"does it bother you?", he gives into your neck. fixing your hips to the wet wall as he grinds into them.

the air thick still. his hair fine under your fingers as they find a home there. your lips kissing his shoulder. dazed by the sensation of shared little whispers and the hard ride of him provoking your arousal to slip and your belly to roll with delicious quiver. "no", you hum. meeting his hips with a roll of your own. "i think it makes our thing more enjoyable". words shaky and a shitty contradiction to the inevitable.

because this thing, this flare of a sensation—soldering hot to melt your bones—is neither unceremonious or fleeting. it is that forever expansion, forming from nothing into something after the abrupt snap that wills it into being. a universe of a feeling housed in the fragility of skin, simple sweeping touches and the persistence of his eyes.

your body is this picturesque take to the sheets. his arms strong, a gentle carry before he's settling to slot between your legs. wrapped up in your thighs and his lips placing delicate. and no, not like the simplicity of it would work in a means to break you, but like the need for reverencing runs deep enough that it'd feel like sin to ignore it. and cm punk has never been a man of self-denial. his tongue curling against yours, sweet and patient. hums of moans and the warmth of him working in beautiful opposition to the cool sheets. his thumb soothing up your jaw, palm cradling your cheek, like he's keeping the angle of your lips just where he likes it to be. control living easy in him. pressing kisses in without the urgency of forethought.

and maybe the apple state inn deserves a five star rating. a review that speaks to the allure of low yellow lights and that natural smell of lavender stuck to the walls.

an embarrassing sort of greediness spills over. hips rocking clumsily to rush into the simple glide through of his fingers at your slit. a firm circling with his thumb but still sedated. a measured touch that nearly aches your teeth in anticipation. breaths short and brattish whimpers. your back curling, attempting to steer him to the tight throb of your entrance.

he's enjoying this. teeth nipping your lips with a small smile. nails digging at his arms in need. "please". a drawl of a whine.

a gentle, testy, shallow, slip into your pussy makes him groan. raw and unmoderated. your legs falling over the muscles of his thighs, spread for him as he dips and retracts. the lewd little sound of it hot to the ears. "don't rush my process", teeth gripping into your neck. tongue following to sooth.

you squeeze his arm. digging what exists of sharp nails into tattooed skin. impatience unruly. "fuck your process, i wanna-"

an emptiness. the dip of his lone finger gone, replaced with the swift swat of his hand at your slit. a gasp cutting up quick, your body jostling from the speed and the cruelty of it. nestling then in pleasure that rolls in after. his tongue still at your neck. remedying skin sure fated to bruise in the morning. your clit overly wet and throbbing and sliding messily along the idle way his finger just sits there. resting right over without a mind to do something useful. the second city saint, a bastard and a half.

his laugh breaks into your skin. a little wry and a little mean. like maybe he thinks you're too audacious. so vulnerable and desperate and still making demands. "you barely know what you want for breakfast sometimes...", he starts. forehead pressed into yours. his right hand playing through the easy slip of your folds and the other tight as they ball the sheets near your head. like all of his control is stored there. knuckle white tight and fighting to stay strong. "...so whatever shit you think you want, it's just you being impatient and greedy. i guess its that only child syndrome shit".

"fuck you", you cut. nudging your face against his. cheeks roughing over the gray of his beard. defiance rife.

"oh sweetheart", he sings. a drawl of a tenor voice that makes you shudder. makes your hands cling to him tighter. like your hold there could maybe cause it to wring out more of his voice and breath, warm and sweet over your body. "you got not the slightest idea how much you're gonna eat every letter of what your just said". kissing your mouth harder. tongue sweeping with a less gentler purpose. lips pulling and suckling and nearly suffocating. looking to savor the dirty taste of your words. touch taking an abrupt curl into your pussy. a steady wet stroke that rattles your body with an almost ugly moan. almost. "you been drivin me crazy since before i got on that flight...", tongue lapping at your yours. a stress of a moan working up as he seats his finger deeper. "...been thinking about touching you for days".

and you rush to meet the feed in of it. an upswing of your hips, urging him just that much deeper. praying for the feel of it along that sensitive little spot inside that makes your skin jitter and your breathing short. your hands cradling his face close. a tough hold in his hair as you suck his tongue. a lazy timeless go if it, nearly falling so well into it that you almost lose yourself.

"someone sounds a little obsessed", you give against his lips.

his eyes green but nearly black and piercing. forehead pressed to you still. "unfortunately yes". an almost whisper if not for the bass of it.

your heart hammering. fearful and exhilarated all the same.

and you can feel his mouth on yours still, moving and hot and dangerous even as your eyes close for some feen for reprieve. a break from the diligence of his own. but you can hear him, the pry the noise of him takes to flesh, like he's opening up and splitting your nerves at the seams. "want you to show me what you do when i'm gone...", kissing your lips sweetly. a second finger joining the first. burying deep to the knuckle and balancing with perfection the deftness it takes to numb your brain with bliss. clit nudging against the add of his thumb. sensitive and the sensation of it blooming it's way till it reaches your toes. "...wanna see how good you take care of yourself when i'm not with you'.

that lavender smell soaked into the walls filling your lungs. the tips of your fingers pressing his thumb in till it's flush up against the swell of your clit. control ill suited to your body as you groan in his mouth.

back curling in with another arch. nipples aching and needy and up against his chest.

your longing this breathy, moaning, call to action. his mouth quick with a salacious answer, finding your body there. a flat, wide, lick over the twist of it. deep in it's savoring. curling and flicking and smiling about the perk of it as he feels you cling wet to his fingers. the pad of his thumb touched by the throb in your clit and the tight press you lay over it. keeping him there as he drags long and steady through your pussy. a greedy moan of his bleeding into your skin as it leaves him, the ball of your nipple playing in his mouth before he's suckling with tongue and prying with his hot mouth. wringing up the pleasure till it's voicing pliant and needy for him. teetering a line of overindulgence where he forsakes control. breaths heavy and hungry as he moves on to the other. a similar treatment that forces your hips to buck. a harsh, abrupt spurring that slips him deeper. right there, nestling and stroking lewd still. "harder, baby", you gasp. clutching the sheets. control lost. sporadic ruts that feen for that touch again.

"there?", humming at your breast. fingers just a little more vicious. the sensation sweetening your blood as it heats.

throbs undulating your skin, like the rippling push of something that goes on to last forever. his thumb releasing to let your have at your own undoing. lips suffering under your teeth. eyes glazed and your head tipped into the sheets. chasing that bliss as it waits to unfurl all over.

"yes", gasping. a tiny, pleading soprano. small and aching as it leaves you. trembling soft under him, the beginning of it rocking into you slowly. "oh God, i-", labored breaths and groaning. your fingers running up sloppy at your clit and his mouth suckling still. fucking into you with a purpose you're sure that entails seeing you go mad. "i'm coming ".

he releases your nipple with a simple pop of his lips. returning to sweep his tongue through the awestruck expression of your mouth. a sloppy kiss. wet and meshing and a little mindless. pussy drooling still as it steeps and clings and throbs.

"not sure he'd love hearing you say that but i sure do", a frail kiss at the edge of your mouth. "say it again".

"i'm coming", you pant. short cuts of breath he presses his lips over.

a glint to his eyes. gaze cascading over. appraising the state of your unraveling. "and so pretty doing it too".

you hiss. body collecting with a short hitch, like it means to ease the landing of this brace-less thing. an effort made in vain as the violence of it takes you. his throat humming satisfied, and the work of his fingers going on still to brush up against that deeper, delicate, slip of skin in you that drives you crazy. a bright, pitchy, "fuck", flying off the tip of your tongue as you curl in and lose yourself. a wordless, world of a feeling. an inconceivable burst of color behind the eyes and your lungs fighting for those better takes of air. unruly and exposed. skin teeming with too much of a good thing. the bed dipping and un-dipping, the shift of him living just at the edges of your awareness. the taste of former words heavy and thick in your mouth, like he said they'd be. his fingers collecting your thighs to adjust the way they reveal the mess of you.

a trail of dainty kisses as he ventures low. a journey over flesh to mark his appearance. a quiver playing your nerves, his tongue slipping to lick long along the full bloom of your slit. messy and drunk, like the careless indulgence of a reward long awaited. drawling moans and the grip in your thighs meaner than any touch he's given you thus far. a drive of his tongue through where you pulse and drip. weak hands near dead, trying their hardest to ease him off. eyes recovering and lazy, watching him go greedy. another hiss through your teeth, one now that indulges. a little less than brutal hold in his hair that keeps him close. the end of an old pleasure making way for a new one. suckling your clit like he did other parts of skin. little bursts of pleasure breaking to the surface, your hips rutting to following the sensation blindly.

his quickness, a jarring little feat. feeding tongue into your mouth to share the taste of you. your thumbs over his cheeks and your thighs hiking over his hips. the hard heat of him grinding along till it's snug and laying at your slit.

and even the thought of him slipping in is enough to leave you shivering.

"how do you want me?"

"deep". a thoughtless answer. your tongue wetting your lips, aching for it. "just take it, take me. i-", desperate and thin feeling. "please", you stress.

his earlier words a little clearer. thoughts and imaginations disrupted, having been troubled by the thought of you. his diligence running vengeful.

and there is nothing exactly satiating about this, about the pace, the life of it, of this. heavy feeling as he makes to stretch you deep. filling to the hilt and nestled comfortably so. like perhaps he was always meant to be there. your throat singing, breathy and filling his mouth as he makes to kiss you. a softness to you, boneless and subdued. the slightest touches made into something bigger and greater. a hand held at your thigh, a smooth reach till its hooking under your knee and the other calm and patience, the thumb of it stroking your forehead.

"not much for being a selfish prick but i need you lookin at me", he rasps. cool green eyes just a bit warmer under the low lights. gentle and arresting. "so beautiful", like a whisper to himself. "i wanna see em when i'm coming in you", he gives. testing your devotion with a push of his hips.

something heavy and dismantled erupting in his chest. bass-y and coarse, breathing over your mouth. his lips making like they mean to kiss you but never fully getting to the completion of it. your thighs housing a sweet aching and your ears burning hot, pleasured by the noise of him. the way his body slowly conforms to being taken in. easy and patient and terrible for his nerves. "yeahhh", he drawls, like an agreement of some staggering pleasure made with the self. or maybe a noise of satisfaction made pure by completion.

whimpers stuttering and cut with short breaths. your eyes glassy and your throat gaining that bit of heaviness. softly trembling, and feeling crazy under the weight of his eyes. like such vulnerability would soon be your end. a quiet sob breaking free, fingers sinking into his skin for dear life. your pussy quivering desperate, clutching hot as he gives a slow, firm, slipping stroke, pressing in enough that it makes you whole.

terror delighting it self in your bones. pressure in the body heavy enough to make diamonds. a tear slipping tenderly, falling over your cheek, the trouble of another release gathering in your belly.

he kisses the wet streak along your face. lewd and hot and wet, pussy pulling at him softly to stay. an endearing path being made upon the skin, a light press of his lips everywhere. silent and filled with purpose.

it isn't enough to let go, to deny the self of a former ambition. solid ground must be met, a full impact made regardless of how unsavory the process is. this quiet, contemplative, stretch of time in albany, not so dissimilar to a travelers great return to earth. readjustments made to air and the gravity. a re-stabilization of things—your walking and your turning and your weight against the ropes of that faithful squared circle and your ego—because a concussion only made your body's resentment more of a hell to deal with. compromise, a great ordeal with the self, a testier thing to endure even. a month of falling away, deep into the recesses of a particularly dark shadow. a host of memory lanes and the diminishing of self importance. FOMO a real bitch and a half to deal with. the frustration buried beneath skin feeling more childlike than anything else, eyeing the others as they roam and enjoy, from the window of your injury styled detention. week after week, nestled at the back of a little less than dingy sports bar, watching your friends and colleagues perform at the greatest arena's and stadiums.

but the time away made for an easier reclamation, a confession you wouldn't speak well too aloud, lest it proved hunter's opinions right. your head clear of that horrible knock of an ache against your skull and the nausea more than minimal.

minimal, but not gone. a small swim of it rippling your belly. flowing against the slosh of ginger beer you've become friendly with since discovering the existence of 'porters dive bar'. an albany staple for the city's exuberant wrestling community. the spice of the ginger steeping your tongue and the fizz of the liquid rolling over to test the limits of your stomach. like the first weary steps of a travelers feet back on earth. a fear of failure but an eagerness of spirit regardless. the building back of strength and resistance. a well made sort of exposure therapy.

your phone pings. another one of his messages appearing. his televised win against cody at an arena in albany, working like a kindling for this abrasive flare styling his words. ego on fire and looking to consume.

text message | the best in the world: soon i'm gonna stop asking to see you and just show up unannounced. you know i'm close right? where are you?

text message | outgoing: porter's dive bar

and this here is the full impact. a hypersonic re-entry. soaring past atmospheric layers as the body is once again enveloped by earths gravity. reality styled with its many worldly limitations. rich colors and coarse ground and a pulling weight in your bones.

talking to him is that meeting of skin against solid ground. the unsavory process.

your phone pings again. fingers slipping against the screen to reveal who. dread coursing wild and unfettered. a quick washing in your blood that plunges the heart.

text message | cody r: can we meet sometime soon? to talk?

text message | outgoing: of course.

you owe him that much. an explanation—regardless of how terrible it will form on your tongue. bile and a lack of brilliance born from guilt.—of your faults and self misguided decisions. but it's all just another step. a heel toe to reclaim familiarity with the earth. building back the strength lost from that unruly lack of ambition, from that great deal of muscle atrophy.

the wooden chair opposite your booth seat scoots harshly against the floor. his entrance screeching your nerves to wake with a horrible sort of surprise. the cool green of his eyes hidden beneath the curl over of a ball cap brim. shoulders squared and wide and persistent. "you look good", he gives. sitting across from you. "refreshed".

you settle your phone down. a soft tremble in your fingers as you make to embrace one hand in the other. the feel of his gaze, like the easy thin slice of a razor over thick skin. a surgical opening that leaves you bare to eyes and air alike. useless to yourself and a short ways from uncomfortable. fighting against a painless pain, against that shameful, irritating weakness that comes with vulnerability. fears and slivers of frustration born from this ill-controlled performance. because cm punk, the best in the world, makes you vulnerable.

you take one of the two ginger beers off the table. sipping at the cool spice of it for some reprieve. "your first words are always about how i look".

"because i'm unfortunately very invested in your wellbeing".

"unfortunately?"

"s'not a whole lot of reciprocation on that front". words not minced. eyes trailing to look over the cold glass left untouched. his curiosities moving him to bring it closer. "what is this?"

"ginger beer". watching him sniff at the rim of the glass before he tests the taste. the spice of the ginger and the fizz delightful and cold sober. "reciprocation". the truth of it cutting across the air, to give something deep and sharp and exacting against whatever assumptions he's made amidst his resentments. because while your investments into his wellbeing weren't as vocal as his for yours, they still hold firm in some form of existence.

"where you been hiding out?"

"our little go to hotel".

he shifts the curl of the brim to reveal more of his eyes. in a manner that allows you to see them well enough. to get the gist of whatever mixture of emotions they take. a hardened sort of confusion styling them now as your answer sinks in. "why there?"

hesitation. like the stutter of your foot after a misstep. body afraid to fail, afraid to fall after that great coming back to earth. "not sure".

his nose flares. a fierce movement. and then his jaw. a chain reaction of many things. as if to curb the brunt of his anger. this overbear of a deep vexing, he pulls into the constraint of words. hard eyes and a harder tongue. "you got a real nasty habit of not saying the things you mean and i can really do without it".

but it was enough, too much even to admit such wrongdoings amidst the court of your own thoughts and imaginations. resentment housed by the body, less sore as the days venture on, but still aching in the skin. felt in the abruptness of harsh maneuvers. swimming knocks in the head and your balance disturbed. those disgusting dull bursts of nausea and a heaviness in your body. exhaustion from nothing. "...and what is it exactly that you want from me?"

"a little transparency", he grits. "some honesty".

"i was fine with cody...was on my way to something substantial even', you give. a corral of words you feel were truthful sometime ago. back when the ambition felt sure and not so unattainable. before muscle deep resentment and injury. "we fell away from each other naturally...", words more like a tool. these builders of persuasion. and God what horrible persuaders they were. everything falling off the tongue half made and shoddily voiced. "...but in true cm punk fashion, whenever you don't like something anymore you get pissy about it. threw a dirty little wrench into my relationship to screw me over".

his chair stresses against the floor. body pulling in closer. fury stored in the pull in of his brows. "you screwed yourself. threw yourself headfirst into bullshit because you're scared. called what we had a thing, because if you actually put a decent name to it then you'd have to admit how you feel about me, and how much that terrifies you...", his tone hushed and curt and piercing. "because cody is safe and easy and if he fails at making you happy, it's no real loss at all right? because you were never really in all the way anyways".

you feel thin. subdued and quite overwrought by all this exposure to him. "you had time to say something. why wait till when i'm with someone else?"

he sighs. settles into an answer like it's the hundredth time he's come to the conclusion of it. "spent since january trying to get rid of you and it didn't work for me, and you were on live tv botchin the hell out of everything, trying to get rid of me, so i don't think it really worked for you either...so here we are".

the air thick and the silence loud. the droning of the bar easing in to fill the space. a hard siphon of the energy by words and the confession of not so dead feelings. your ginger beers icy still and watered. a waitress comes, strutting up to your table.

"you guys need anything?"

"two more of these ginger beers please", punk gives. a small smile as she leaves.

his eyes the color of garden sage. softer now. flitting over your face with a renewed sense of diligence.

and it's more clear now than it's ever been. he isn't going anywhere.

your fingers curl, a slow coming together into your palm to ball. multi-purposed, squeezing to live a little in that familiar burst of an ache. bones and muscles flexing as the skin pulls some. a summation of weariness. knuckles breaking against the door to knock. a similar rhythm playing in your chest, because cody could be many things. sad. angry. vexed. indifferent. he could speak wild or terribly soft, but inspire another layer of guilt to lay at your skin just the same.

"just a second", he gives. bass in the voice and words slipping thick like over his tongue. in that way that he tries to cover some but can't help.

a shift in your leg, like the anxious pinch of a nerve. a jerk or maybe a pulling. you're not sure what it is, but it's asking to move. to leave. to maybe do this another time. "i can come back later if you want", shouting some over the regular drone of pre-live show buzz. one hand slipping away from the cool metal of the door handle and the other undoing from that ache of a fist. making to about face into the fray of crew members. but he must recognize your voice, even through the thickness of the door. must've settled himself enough in whatever emotions he's living in.

his voice rushing. like he can feel you falling away from this long overdue talk. "no no, come in. i'm good. come in".

your hand returns against the door handle. cool metal more like an icy burning. stepping into his dressing room like a re-entry into the world of him. his hair retouched to the roots, a cold blonde that pops his already sky blue eyes. his hands roughing with his wrestling boots. blinking up at you silently. mouth parted and slightly lost for words. like he'd maybe rehearsed everything and has now forgotten all the brilliance of it. a sigh leaving with that realization. like he'll have to forsake all the prearranged self made discussion and go about this a little less practiced. "you look well", he gives. with a nod. "the break did you some good".

"yeah", stepping in further. arms folded over. body overly aware of his appraisal. "that seems to be the consensus".

his throat clears, brows pulling together before they fall away quickly. this awkward abrupt movement that reveals the slow work of his thoughts. gears oiled and turning and trying out words before he says them. a farer cry from his in-ring persona, where he's suited and pristine and seemingly always ready. the little action of it making him more human to the eyes and less star-like. something you would have shrunk away from before out of fear that it would cause him some lackluster effect, now finding in its own imperfections, very endearing.

"was it something about me, or anything i ever did that kinda just-...?", his voice falling off. left to motion oddly between your bodies with his hands. miming a separation. like finishing the words, allowing them to live in the air, would cause them to be true.

"no! no, it was...", trying to find something not so terrible to soothe him with. stepping a little closer to him. arms unfolded. like the honesty begging to leave you for some time has now taken command of your body and it's functioning. "...i wasn't being honest about a lot of things with myself and it spilled over into what we had going on, and i'm really sorry about that".

and he nods. not like he's accepting of it all but like he gets it. like he's relating to you. eyes softer, made vulnerable by his own truth. "all the...all the asinine bullshit leading up to mania just...", his eyes rolling as he remembers the trouble of it. "...on top of already wanting the belt for personal reasons, it just drove me crazy. and i think in the midst of that, i leaned in on us a little harder than i should've. maybe more than i planned to". fingers scratching and curling up into his hair, going about aimlessly almost. giving himself something to do to remedy the weight of his words. "we have quite a bit in common so...the intimacy was good enough, it-it was easy to just hold on to. i think we were both faking it to make it".

your throat grows heavy, face warm with the well up of tears. relief meshing easy with the sadness of it all. the both of you willing to settle, if it meant being comfortable and not alone. a heartbreaking circumstance to force upon the self for sure.

"can i...?", your hands motioning for an embrace.

"of course, c'mere".

his arms warm and comforting as he takes you in. wrapped tightly, with a friendly sort of affection. an earnest touch, made not to linger in a performance of desire but to give solace. sniffling against his chest as he squeezes tightly.

"don't you start crying for real...", he jokes. "...cause then you're gonna make me cry".

you smile. slipping away from him gently. "well that don't take much so..."

his eyes roll. grabbing the outer jacket that completes his in-ring gear.

your fingers sweep under your eyes to rid of the wet streaks. shoulders less heavy and the dread in your chest no longer fighting to consume. making to leave his dressing room. "don't go easy on him either. i need him a little softened up".

"will do".

you make a full exit. slipping your phone from your pocket. his name under your thumb as you press against it. memory serving well, thinking of that sports bar in albany and all the empty glasses of ginger beer spread across the table. the vex about his face growing gentler as the night carried on. that line in the sand washed away, the boundary blurred and then made new into something with a better shaping. his cool, pale, sage eyes working like he wanted to remember that moment. like the satisfaction of having you in front of him again without any attempts to break away from him, was too good to simply be lost to time.

you click to call and wait for his answer. an impatience running in your fingers as you make to join the producers and tech operators at the staging area.

he answers. a simple, coarse, "yeah", that sweetens your ears.

"have breakfast with me tomorrow", you give. plain and a little demanding. "please?"

he hums. amusement in his voice like he's smiling.

"time and place sweetheart".

210 notes · View notes

k-zuzu · 4 months ago

Text

홍중

kim hongjoong 𖹭 fem idol!reader

DESTINY.

synopsis: idol!reader is very open about her love for ateez kim hongjoong, scandal breaks, they end up together. (feat. bang chan of skz being wise.)

content: eventual smut mdni, cringe/crack, angst if u squint, strangers2friends2lovers, reader uses she/her pronouns, slow burn?, this is shit, choppy storyline lots of time skips and anticlimactic, fluffy?, lots of use of the pet name 'baby', cuddling, big sexy hongjoong, swearing, not proofread, lowercase intended. explicit warnings: in the studio couch, handjob, p in v, no prep, vanilla, unprotected, creampie, sub/dom undertones?, virgin/inexperienced reader

guide: italics in dialogues are used when they speak in korean. chat fonted dialogues are comments and exchanged texts. long blocks of dialogues are used during lives because they're not really doing anything apart from speaking!

zuzu's note: main masterlist. the girl in the picture is just a reference/icon to get the overall vibe of the "idol aesthetic." also, because it's difficult to make things neutral, i created your group and fandom's name, and also put in a groupmate's name in as placeholders because it's difficult to write without mentioning them lol.

you spent two years honing your skills as a trainee at a modest, struggling company before rising to fame as the leader of your own group, DESTINY. your impressive duality on stage, seamlessly transitioning from intense, commanding dance moves and mature raps to the charming, feminine aegyo concept, quickly won over fans. your first award was hard-earned for your sultry debut song titled "Sit." (in which you would subtly imply that you want to sit on someone's face).

you, in particular, gained a significant international following because of your hilarious bedroom lives where you would often deliver sassy comebacks to fans, showcase your impressive english language skills, and share random chatter that fans couldn't help but love. Initially, you became known for your goofy on-screen personality. however, as your talents and stage presence shone through, it was no surprise that people fell for you.

DESTINY has cemented their status as THE 5th generation girl group, making waves in the music industry. numerous renowned idols you adored in the past (one of which, was Kim Hongjoong) have taken notice of your group's bold lyrics and praised your distinctive style and captivating concept.

one day, you decide to hop onto instagram to go live and have a casual chat with your dedicated fans, also known as fates, during a brief pause from rehearsing the dance routine for your upcoming comeback album titled "idgaf." despite having beads of sweat clinging to your forehead and being slightly winded from the dance, you maintain a casual conversation with your viewers;

"so, a few days ago i was on my phone and i was watching these uh, these compilations of other idols talking about me—" you pause to catch your breath and slightly chuckle at how ridiculous you sound. "someone made one of those cute videos on youtube." you repeat in korean. "my favorite part was when they showed ateez reaction to me casually rapping that one part in WORK during one of my lives..." you took a deep inhale and looked away as you thought about it some more. "hongjoong-sunbaenim was sooo, aaaagh! he was— i mean, okay, so, don't like, make a big deal out of this, but i had a hugeeee crush on him for so long, so long, like, before i debuted, i swear, his charizzma is unmatched!!! aaaaaGH, he COMPLIMENTED MY RAPPING IN THE VIDEO! and then i began to wonder if, like, was my rapping even good? damn, i could've done better if i knew hongjoong-sunbaenim would watch it. he was also, actually my inspiration as a leader and a producer..."

you continued chattering on, unaware that your manager would soon reprimand you for discussing that particular topic, citing potential negative consequences. however, it wasn't a major issue, since your fans actually valued your candidness. sure, there were a few hateful remarks scattered among the positive comments, but many responded positively, with remarks such as:

"help she's so real 😭"

"waaah, wishing i was hongjoon rn"

"she can't have hongjoong! he is dating atiny" — "she is atiny tho?" someone replied.

"totally ship them" and it was all enough to make your day.

it's not too long before you come across a reel on instagram that many fans tagged you in; hongjoong reacting to a clip of you simping over him on your livestream. your heartbeat picked up its pace and you sat up properly, raising the volume on your phone as you mentally prepared yourself for the video.

"yahh, i already saw this." he says and you pause the video. fuck. you play it again. "honestly, i thought it was a bit cute." you blush and kick your feet until he speaks again. "it's rare to see junior idols showcasing their admiration for their seniors, but it's really nice, i really like it... especially when they admire me," he shows a heart to the camera. "y/n, if you're watching this, please continue to show your love and support to ateez!"

you were a little disappointed because he seemed to spin it off that you were just a supportive junior/atiny, but you decided to brush it off.

weeks pass and the topic dies down until a photo of you and hongjoong chatting while he signed your album at their fansign event was spreading around the internet and rumors began — you didn't think it would be hidden since it was a public event, but you also didn't think that it would be a scandal. it's your first time being able to chat with hongjoong at all and the dating rumors are just ridiculous. your manager gives you the go signal and you decide to address the rumors by going live in your iconic bed, the lights are dim and you're bare faced, wearing glasses —

"helllooo..." you adjusted the camera at the foot of the bed and you laid on your stomach in front of it. "yesterday... i met kim hongjoong-sunbaenim of ateez..." you paused as you thought about what to say next — you didn't want a script, you wanted to stay yourself: authentic and genuine.

"and today, i was very disappointed because many fates say that we are dating and expressed their hatred for the idea... i would like to point out that i only admire him now as my senior and inspiration for being an idol! i would like to address that, honestly, the dating rumors are a bit ridiculous just because i said i had a crush. it was my first time meeting hongjoong-sunbaenim," your tone was a bit defensive and pouty, you paused as you fiddled with your earring and stared at the camera, snivveling.

"it was my very first time meeting him, it was awkward. more awkward than if he was with a regular fan, maybe because i am an idol and i expressed my admiration for him very publicly, but he was very kind and considerate about it. he really expressed his appreciation for me as his junior and atiny and that was the extent of our interaction. i hope you guys don't spread rumors like this again even if it's true, it would be private business and you shouldn't gossip about someone's love life like this. if you guys like it so much, i suggest you guys focus on your own." you make a light joke of the situation, slightly hoping you don't get hate for that as well. soon after that live, you posted a selfie you took with hongjoong at the fansign event with the caption "forever atiny! 🫶" and you decided to stop and stray away from the whole hongjoong topic because you didn't want to cause him any more trouble.

luckily, after that, many fates decided to come forward and be more open as they showed a lot of support for you and hongjoong.

"this is ridiculous! she shouldn't have to address those dumb rumors, please respect them! they are idols, your baseless rumors could ruin their career."

"i feel so bad for her and hongjoong. i love their innocent chemistry and i believe they should interact more often! male and female idols should be able to interact without being "accused" of dating. like she said, even if they are, it is none of our business! so sad that she'll probably have avoid him after this. so disappointed in whoever made the rumors."

months later, your group and ateez both were in Chicago, USA for your comeback world tour at the same time and while you were there, you decided to attend their concert and you screamed at the top of your lungs and went along every fan chant like a pro, you were far away from the stage so there were no hopes of being noticed — since it was convenient, your managers decided that your group and ateez should collaborate on dances of your comeback title songs, and naturally, you and hongjoong were paired together by your managers in hopes of using this dance as a warning for fans not to mess with the two of you. much to your convenience, the title track of your comeback album is "idgaf."

"hongjoong-sunbaenim!" you slightly jogged over to him and the staff and group members and bowed as deep as you could, your manager and fellow DESTINY members following close by.

"there's no need for that," hongjoong waves you off as you came back up and you chuckle slightly as you awkwardly look around the silent room — you often gossiped with your members about how you'd 'let hongjoong do things to you' among other questionable remarks, and right now you silently hope they wouldn't say a word about it. "i already learned the dance earlier, it's really good! i heard you choreographed it? " hongjoong attempts at small talk and you nod politely in response, holding your hands together, noticing the ateez members behind him glancing at you guys, whispering, and chuckling.

"yes, it took me a month to perfect the choreography before i taught my members." you explain, but before hongjoong could continue, one of the staff unknowingly interrupts your chat.

"okayyy, let's get started! in your positions, please."

you guys complete the dance on the second take, and once it was posted, the fans absolutely adore your chemistry (just as you did) they fawn over the idea of you and hongjoong together (just as you did).

after the posting of the dance, you have a casual live featuring your group mate, nina, who also spoke english. the theme; "doing face masks in my bed and eating ramen." during that very live, you receive a notification while your friend talks to the viewers. you picked you your phone to check what it was, your heart almost literally stopped.

kim hongjoong...

was...

following you back on instagram.

your eyes almost popped out of your head and you let out a really long high pitched screech.

"what? " nina looks at you, befuddled but laughing at your odd reaction. after a few seconds you still don't respond to her as you kick your feet. "ya, what is it? " she attempts once again and lean over your shoulder to check your phone but you slam it down on the bed. you slowly turn to her, trying and failing to contain your smile as you whisper so the audience couldn't hear.

"hongjoong-sunbaenim is following me on instagram..."

her eyes widen and she smiles. "are you sure?" she asked in a high pitched voice and you nodded frantically, showing her your phone. her smile widens and the two of you couldn't hold it in anymore — you both begin squealing and grabbing each others hands live and the fate's comments kept coming in.

"what are you two talking abouttt???"

"i didn't hear what she said!"

fans would soon understand what you were screeching about and this time, instead of dating rumors, it was "feeling" rumors. fans would gossip and speculate about how you two obviously had feelings for each other, other speculations include your "random chemistry" with hongjoong to be a marketing strategy — to always put you two together to gather more attention, likes, and fan reactions.

what they don't know is that they are correct on both accounts; because you and hongjoong so obviously had feelings each other the staff would always put you together.

the tipping point.

hongjoong posted a picture on his story of a ticket purchase to your world tour comeback concert.

the concert is coming to an end.

DESTINY is singing the encore, which is also your last chance; ever since hongjoong posted that on his story you made a plan. but you told everyone that it was in the heat of the moment when you did it. that's what you told yourself — the adrenaline, your sore muscles, your vocal cords beginning to strain, the screams of fate, the sound of your heartbeat, the thought of hongjoong. your lines in the song were coming close — before the beat drops, you skip toward the center and you raise your hand, microphone close to your mouth, you screamed.

"HONGJOONG-SUNBAENIM!" you scream out, your voice echoing through the arena. "this one's for you!" the fate fans erupt into a frenzy of deafening screams and cheers. the stunned expressions of the DESTINY members are captured on the iphone cameras held by fans. "FATE! let me hear you FUCKING SCREAM YOUR HEARTS OUT!" you shout, launching into the chorus of the song. as the beat drops and the intensity kicks in, everything around you becomes a hazy blur, and for a moment, your mind goes blissfully blank.

as the concert reaches its finale, the members of DESTINY retreat backstage to catch their breath and decompress. you immediately seek refuge in the nearest chair, plopping down and exhaling a loud, tired sigh.

"ya, y/n, what were you thinking?" nina sits on the chair next to you. "we don't know what could happen now."

that was the worst possible feeling to have as an idol. the anxiety of what comes next.

...it reminded you of the time mingi swore to jongho on a live.

"it's not that big of a deal," you say as you chug and finish an entire bottle of water. "it's to feed fate's hunger..."

"yaaah, how you think hongjoong-sunbaenim would react? " she ponders and you shrug, choosing not to think about it. despite your nonchalant demeanor, you completely regret it. 'how would everyone react?' sure, you constantly openly express your admiration for him everywhere else, but onstage was something else, 'what happened to professionalism?' you sigh and put your hand on your forehead. you're going to get in a lot of trouble with your manager now.

that nonsense yet iconic line would get you the title of the "most ballsy k-pop leader of the 5th generation " which is also the headline of the hit article that would later accuse you of being "too forward" with your "poor attempt" at bringing modern media and standards to korean culture and k-pop. back then, your line at the concert would not be acceptable, but now there are so many of your fans — your fates defending you, supporting you, and fighting all of the haters and closed fates who openly express their distaste and negativity for your unprofessional behaviour. you still believe that you deserve at least half of it.

it's no surprise that hongjoong doesn't share or post any public reaction to your iconic line of 2024, unlike you, an immature newer idol, he has been in the entertainment industry longer and is an expert on how to maintain professionalism, especially when it comes to dating scandals. agh, he probably lost his respect for you after that moment.

another few weeks pass. to your surprise, even after your unprofessional behaviour, DESTINY was invited to an award show, and during one of the performances, nature called, so you got up to head to the bathroom. in one of the hallways, the smallest of small chances and the most cliche of cliches happened. you and hongjoong stood in front of each other at the hallway that led to the bathrooms, you bow deeply and greet him softly, a bit embarrased you hunch in shame. "hello..."

"y/n-ah! " he's surprisingly relaxed, he raises a hand forward and you awkwardly double check it before high fiving him and he puts it back in his pocket. "how are you? i've actually been a bit of a fate myself these past few weeks and that thing you said at the concert wasss, wow."

'okay, so he addressed the elephant in the room just like that. was it even the elephant for him? it seemed like a koala, or... a chipmunk or something.' goes through your mind. you awkwardly chuckle and push your hair away from your face. "yeah... i'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable, i've regretted it ever since—"

"no! you don't have to be. it was cool. really cool. i liked it." he says. his cute, reassuring smile remains and you can't help but smile back.

"really?" you ask, you don't how pathetic you sound asking it but hongjoong liked how it came out of your mouth — your personality now is so soft-spoken and different from the "ballsy 5th gen leader" the internet made you out to be, he adored the duality. "i was actually super nervous, i was afraid you would think i ruined the face of my group or something and unfollow me on instagram..." you ramble nervously.

"ya, i would never! " he said and took his phone out. "i am a certified fate from here on out, you and are- are the fate-inies." he handed you his phone. "i was actually wondering if we can exchange contacts?" you look at him, shocked painted across your face.

"really???" you ask and don't hesitate to grab his phone. "of course!" you try your best not to sound too eager but of course, you fail. hongjoong laughs at your innocent reaction and you return his phone. he smiles, satisfied, and lifts it up and shaking the screen in front of you.

"i'll text you," he says casually. "will you reply?" you nod, trying to contain your smile because you don't wanna scare him away.

"of course! why else would i give you my number?" he makes way for you in the small hallway and mumbles a farewell as he waves his hand and he begins to walk away, you turn and watch him until he's out of sight before you run to the bathroom, slam the door behind you and scream your lungs out in the mirror. you totally lost the urge to pee and you return to your groupmates immediately after, already gossiping about what went down. later that night, DESTINY wins an award, you celebrate, and head back to your dorm, wash up and fall on your bed where you would receive a text from hongjoong.

hongjoong: "yo! congratulations on your win! i was very happy when DESTINY was announced and saw you onstage ㅋㅋㅋㅋ."

you bite your nail, thinking of your response.

you: "hi! tysm! congratulations on your award as well. it's expected of ateez-sunbaenim, i already see it coming ㅋㅋㅋ"

hongjoong: "ah, don't be like that. it's hard to live up to expectations"

you chuckle at his response. his typing style was different than you expected. you got ready to type out another response until he messaged again.

hongjoong: "btw, when r u available? we should celebrate our win together. as leaders."

your heart skips a beat... or two. is he asking you out?

you: "how about tomorrow night?"

hongjoong: "oh, no can do. ateez celebration party tomorrow with a few close friends."

you sigh and you're about to put your phone down for the night when you reel another vibration.

hongjoong: "unless u wanna come? ur more than welcome"

you: "idk, it might not be the best choice. will there be other female idols there?"

hongjoong: "uhh, ur being kinda dubious. do you want there to be female idols?"

you: "yes pls"

hongjoong: "then there will be female idols there. why? are you going to choose them over me?"

you: "ㅋㅋㅋㅋ only if the entirety of blackpink are there."

hongjoong: "it might seem crazy what i'm 'bout to say..."

hongjoong: "sorry but lisa was all we could book 4 the night"

you: "U FR?!"

hongjoong: "no"

hongjoong: "ateez is not made of gold. lisa-sunbaenim is also busy with more important matters"

hongjoong: "ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ"

hongjoong: "...are you still coming?"

hongjoong: "..."

hongjoong: "y/n?"

you: "yes! it sounds great"

hongjoong: "great. i'll send u the details, see u there ;)"

...is that a fucking winky face? you swear this man is the bane of your existence.

you go to the party alone — and surprisingly, it isn't the small gathering you expected, there were so many recognizable faces, not just of idols, but actors. the venue is a large vip lounge of an underground club in the city. the interior was obnoxious and practically made of gold —you look around and see choi san leaning on a wall, alone. he's a familiar face that you're comfortable talking with. you make eye contact across the room and you walk your way toward him confidently. "hello, sunbaenim!! congratulations on your win~" you give him a soft smile and he smiles back, taking a sip from the glass in his hand — is that brandy? you watch as he silently puts the cup down on the table next to him without so much as a thanks to your greeting, he puts his hands on each of your cheeks, and you wonder if his drunk until you're flustered as he forcibly turns your head 90° to the right.

"hyung is over there."

you easily recognize your hongjoong.

he is chatting with who you recognize to be bang chan of stray kids but your eyes just lock in on him — everyone else around is suddenly blurred and he's the only one you see. you focus on the way his lips move as he speaks, the way he softly nods — this is him when he thinks you're not watching and it's so damn hot, him being himself. the mere fact that he breathes is hot. damn, you're so in love. san chuckles at how you already forgot he was next to you, he conks you in the head and walks away.

you walk toward hongjoong and excuse yourself to their conversation. "y/n!" he says enthusiastically and places a hand around your shoulders. "bang chan, i'm sure your familiar," hongjoong says casually and he makes eye contact with someone in the room — getting distracted, he walks away. of course, it's his group's celebratoon party, you weren't the only guest he would tend to. you awkwardly look up at bang chan and wave.

"hi, sunbaenim! i really love maniac and superbowl, amazing songs!" you give him two thumbs ups and he giggles bashedly, almost blushing — you knew bangchan to alwayd be a flustered mess, he never knew how to react to compliments. "also, i subscribed to your bubble once, wowwww." you tried to make small talk and he laughed once more.

"yeahhh, i can get pretty crazy there. you know, i would also watch your lives sometimes, you're funny!" he says, and you smile.

"you really think so? aaah, i know i have a lot of cringe moments, especially when i first revealed my crush on hongjoong."

"oh yeah, no, it wasn't cringe at all! everybody in the industry already saw your chemistry from before you mentioned it. i totally support you guys haha." he speaks casually and your eyes widen.

"wh-what? support our what? what do we have? what chemistry?" you ramble and bang chan chuckles.

"relax, relax — it's nothing, just, we see your flirting here and there and you two would be so cute together. but, if you want my advise, i wouldn't recommend going public with it, honestly. DESTINY— it's DESTINY, right? you guys just debuted, i don't think having a public relationship with an idol older than you is the right career choice this early on." he says and you nod along, you totally understood where he was coming from but when you stayed silent too long for comfort, bangchan tilted his head. "hey? did i say something wrong?"

you snapped your attention back at him. "hm? yeah, i mean NO! i completely understand what you said and i agree. plus, there's nothinggg between me and hongjoong, we're just... i don't know we're, okay, so there might be a little bit of a thing, but it'll take a long time until it actually becomes something~" you giggle and bangchan giggles as well and the two of you are just a giggling mess and hongjoong comes back to join your group.

"hey, what's all the giggling about?" he moves his head to look at you, then bang chan, then you, then bang chan — "isn't this your first time being acquainted? why are you two having so much fun without me? " then bangchan just smiles, then looks at you, then hongjoong, then you, then hongjoong.

"i'll get going nowww~" he says in a goofy tone and walks away.

"what's with him?" hongjoong mutters and looks at you. "have you eaten? eat! there's plenty of appetizers and foods around—"

"hongjoong-sunbaenim," you interrupt him. "ah, no... hongjoong-oppa." you look up at him, and he stares at you, expression blank but clearly flustered at the new title he got from you. "what are we?" you decide to live up to your title as the most ballsy kpop leader of the 5th generation and he chokes on air, eyebrows raising and eyes blinking repeatedly as he processes what you said.

"um," hongjoong looks around the room nervously, maybe concerned if anyone overheard what you just said. "i... like- hm? huh? i-" he can barely get a word out and you tilt your head, maybe you shouldn't have been to forward, it was wayyy too soon.

"sorry, you don't have to answer." you say calmly and he lets out a very obvious sigh of relief and you chuckle.

"felt like i was trying to defuse a time bomb." he laughs, holding a hand over his chest and you smile as not to ruin the mood, but your next question would do just that for you.

"but... be honest, this is more than a friendship, right? " you can see his smile falter ever so slightly and the silent pause is way too long for comfort. maybe you shouldn't have asked.

"...we'll see where it goes, yeah? " hongjoong smiles. you nod in understanding and he pets your head ever-so-softly as not to ruin your hair. "let's go, let's enjoy the party."

later that night, he takes you to your dorm in the same car he is being driven home in — he waves goodbye and you bow politely. "i'll text you!" hongjoong says, loud enough for you to hear. the car drives off in the distance and you smile and wave. "i'll reply!" you yell back.

your relationship lasted in the talking stage for a few months. rumors were nonexistent because you and hongjoong didn't have to express your attraction to each other through lives and posts and stories anymore, fans assumed it was because the staff felt the tension between you two died down and stopped using it for clout, little did they know that it all began hiding behind closed doors through hundreds of flirty texts and phone calls, cute selcas, handmade gifts, ordering food for each other, occasional video calls, and personal dates throughout your busy schedule. you were practically dating now but you and hongjoong never had a label.

"so, what are you guys? " wooyoung would ask.

hongjoong takes a moment to answer as he scrolls through his laptop. "...we're in a situationship."

"aren't you a little too old to be afraid of commitment?"

"ya, bastard—"

it wouldn't take too long for your "situationship" to spread among other idols and since everyone else was pretty closed off or "careful" it was the gossip of the industry.

about 6 months into whatever you and hongjoong had; you two were alone together in the living room of his dorm, everyone else was out and about, busy tending to their own lives leaving you two were finally alone together. one of the few moments you treasured. you laid comfortably into his chest as you both focused on wonka (timothee ver.) playing on the flat screen tv. hongjoong subconsciously pets your hair every now and then and you nuzzled deeper into his chest but there was a lingering thought in your head that you have been meaning to ask.

"hongjoong-oppa..." you mumble. hongjoong humms in response — you feel the vibration of his voice against your ear that rests just above his chest. you shuffled to look at him, he glances at you, seeing that you're a bit serious, he pauses the movie and he sits up a bit. "...is it still to early to ask what we are?"

hongjoong's expression doesn't change. it makes it hard for you to read him and how he feels about the question you have been too scared to ask these past few weeks. hongjoong doesn't respond however, just looking at you with clueless eyes. you sigh, expressing your disappointment and gently push him back into his position on the couch and laid back on top of him.

"nevermind." you murmur. you don't wanna force him into rushing the relationship or do anything he's uncomfortable with, but you don't want to wait too long either. shouldn't the two of you always be on the same page? you sigh again the more you thought about it, but your thoughts were interrupted as soon as hongjoong pushed you back up into your position.

"no," he simply said. "it's not too soon. in fact, it's a little late." he began and you started listening to him, pout evident on your face. hongjoong takes a deep breath. "the truth is, i have been thinking about this topic... me and some of the members would talk about it, and they kept telling me to "put a label on it," but my response was always that i was too scared." you looked at him, brows furrowed. "i really like you, y/n. it scares me." he whispers.

"...you don't... have to be scared." you say softly.

"i know, i know—" he rubs his forehead and he lets out a deep sigh. "but a label makes it so official, y'know...? "

"i know, oppa, but if our relationship, is not going anywhere then we might as well stop now." you can feel the anger in you bubbling up. "i don't date around, you know. you said yourself that you wanted to see where this would go, it's been months and after everything we've done together, i still can't believe we're not even called boyfriend and girlfriend," you pause to take a breath and calm yourself down. "i don't want to force you anything, but i just, i can't help but think that you don't want to continue this but you're too afraid to tell me. i don't want to wake up tomorrow and you change your mind and decide that you don't want me anymore, i need to propose an ultimatum." you pause, licking your lips nervously. "if you don't want to be my boyfriend now then maybe you shouldn't be my boyfriend at all."

you rambled on like you usually do, but hongjoong doesn't want to interrupt you, he never wanted to, he loves listening to you talk, but hearing the words that came out of your mouth upset him.

"...y/n, don't get me wrong," he began. "i want to be your boyfriend and i want you to be my girlfriend, i want a label, but you have to understand that it's hard for me..." he explained calmly, voice soft.

his words don't change how you feel, and you frown. "then why? what are you waiting for—? " your words are interrupted when you feel his lips smash into yours in a soft and wet kiss, it's almost aggressive but eventually, it melts into a tender, passionate connection before pulling away. you look at hongjoong, a little dazed but befuddled. that was the last thing you expected but somehow it calmed your nerves, unlike his words. you look away from him as a blush creeps into your face — that was your first ever kiss with him. "why'd you do that..? "

"because, y/n," hongjoong softly squishes your cheeks and guides you to look into his eyes. "you're beautiful. not just physically — your personality is beautiful, your passion is beautiful... you're a wonderful person and i am very lucky to have you." you're glad that you're looking at him because you can see the sincerity in his eyes. "...and i love how much you care and i- i know that i am ready to have a label, it's just that i told you... i'm scared... but, i guess, we don't always jump into things prepared..." he says and your expression softens. you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him just a little bit closer. "y/n... can i be your boyfriend?" he asks softly.

"of course. what's wrong with you?" you playfully hit his chest and pull him into another short kiss. "i literally had a breakdown about the fact that you didn't wanna be my boyfriend and you're still asking me if i want you to be my boyfriend?" you laugh, hongjoong leans in, another small kiss.

"ya, don't tease me." he mumbles against your lips and you smile mischievously.

"or what~?" you ask, suggestively tilting your head as you look into his gorgeous eyes. hongjoong simply chuckles at your boldness and pecks your cheek, pulling you in for a proper hug and he whispers in your ear.

"don't push it," you were shocked at how deep his voice became. "i might not be able to contain myself..." he says casually and lays back down as if he didn't just leave you wet. "...right, let's continue the movie." he grabs the remote from the table and unpauses it. you just sit there, high and dry.

it's been a year since you and hongjoong have been together, fans are still unaware but catch on to random hints and slip-ups here and there but usually they are too far fetched to be considered a "soft launch" (like you accidentally calling hongjoong "oppa" on a livestream), and only ateez and DESTINY know that your relationship is official official (even your managers don't know, which made it super difficult to go on dates.)

their reactions include but are not limited to:

"finally. you two were beginning to be insufferable..." — DESTINY

"NO WAYYY!?!? THAT'S SO GREAT!!!" — Ateez

"oppaaa!" you yell loudly as you enter the dance studio hongjoong and a few of his members were practicing in. it was late at night and not many people were in the building at the time, you ran over to him and jumped in his arms.

"hi, baby! what are you doing here so late?" he kisses your cheek as he carries you by your thighs against him and you look into his eyes.

"why? can't i see my baby while he's working? " your arms are wrapped around his neck and you kiss his nose, he smiles and scrunches his nose, nuzzling it into yours like a rabbit.

"ahh, come on, you know you're my baby!" he says in a sweet aegyo voice and you giggle. he puts you down and seonghwa walks by.

"come on guys, seriously, i think i might barf..."

"i know, 'oppa, you're my baby, not just that — i want your babies~'" san decides to join in and mock you two with a skit and feigning a high pitched voice. pretending to be you and that seonghwa was hongjoong, playfully hitting his chest.

"ya, stop that, you weirdo—" seonghwa chuckles and hits san back.

you both ignore them, already used to their antics. you hold hongjoong's hands, looking into his eyes. "oppa, wanna go get a snack?"

"totally! let's go." he lets go of your left hand and holds on to your right as he leads you out the dancing studio and into the corridor. "so, where are we going?"

"what? why would i know? i thought you knew." you say, dumbfounded.

"why should i know? you're the one who suggested that we go out for a snack!" he exclaims.

"okay, okay! sooo... let's just go back to the dancing studio? " you turn around and hongjoong pauses, his smile remains the same.

"...actually, i have something else in mind." his voice is soft yet deep — you tilt your head in curiosity as he leads you to the end of the corridor and to the elevators, clicking the down button.

"...soo, are you going to tell me or..?"

"let's hang out in my studio."

this was undeniably the smartest idea Hongjoong had come up with since the beginning of your relationship (considering your surprise). it was incredibly rare for the two of you to get some precious alone time together, so you vowed to savor every single moment. laying on the couch in your favorite position (with you comfortably sprawled on top of him), a soothing silence enveloped the room, where the sound of your synchronized breathing patterns filled the air.

"'joong," you mumble, almost falling asleep, eyes closed. you shift on top of him and feel something rather peculiar down there. your eyes shot wide open. "'joong?!" you playfully hit his chest and sit up. "ya, i thought we were just chilling!"

"sorry! sorry- i couldn't help it, you were positioned so-" he pauses, staring at you as you urged him to continue with a smile and furrowed brows. "nevermind, nevermind, lay back down. it's chill, i promise."

"no," you suddenly say.

"no???" hongjoong questions. "wh- what do you mean?" he tries to laugh it off.

"i mean no, you said it was my fault. i have to help you," you innocently said and slid off of him, going on your knees on the floor.

"woah, woah, woah, wait- no, y/n, i can't let you do that," hongjoong attempts to pull you back up, but you refuse, your hands rest on his thighs, looking up at him with sparkling eyes, eagerly waiting for him to say yes. it's difficult for hongjoong to say no to that expression, he curses under his breath, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. "ahh, shit." he grumbles. "have you ever even sucked a dick, y/n?" he looks down at you, and you shake your head.

"no," you innocently respond. "but i can learn with you right? it's difficult for me to have a sex life, y'know, with our schedules and all."

"yeah, yeah…" he looks away, hand covering the flush of his cheeks.

"…wait," you suddenly stood up. "is this your way of telling me you've been sucked off before?"

"was that your way of telling me you've never been fucked before?" hongjoong quipped.

"is that your other way of telling me you've fucked someone else before?!" you shot back.

he chuckles, "c'mon, baby, this is a good thing!" he runs his hands up and down your arms, attempting to soothe your annoyance, although he's not quite sure whether you're joking or serious. "i could teach you a thing or two, you know? how does that sound, sweetheart?" he stands up and spins around, gently guiding you to sit on the couch with him. despite your earlier irritation, you can't help but giggle as he showers your face with kisses, eventually kissing your lips and coaxing you to lay down on the couch as the make-out session intensifies. he climbs on top of you, grinding his hips into yours, you whine into his kiss. "you like that?" hongjoong mumbles in between kisses, abruptly pulling away to rid of his clothing, prompting you to get rid of yours.

you were practically drooling over his cock, already waiting for him to trace it to your entrance as he wrapped his hand tightly around himself, but he didn't. instead, he leaned back on the other end of the couch, head thrown back as he pumped himself hard. as much as you were disappointed, you gotta say, what a fucking sight. the kim hongjoong was masturbating in front of you, to you. eager, you leaned forward and wrapped your hands around his hand that pumped his cock, wanting to make his job easier, hongjoong stared at you blankly for a moment, considering what he should let you do, slowly, he guided your hands to wrap around his thick girth, urging you to pump up and down, occassionally squeezing at the tip, watching as his precum escaped.

"fuck," hongjoong cursed under his breath. "ah, shit, shit, wait," he pulled your hands off of him. concerned you might've hurt him or done a bad job, you pulled away and watched as he ran a hand through his hair. "sorry, i was just so close to cumming." he mumbled, covering his face with both hands in shame.

you tilt your head, confused. "that's a good thing, though."

"no, no, i wanna make you cum first, baby…" his hand met your cheek, stroking it gently. "you want my tongue or fingers?"

"mmh, cock…" you mumbled, laying on your back and spreading your legs, showing your pretty, tight hole on fully display for him to use. "i want your cock, hongjoong…"

"fuck," hongjoong cllimbed over you and eagerly placed his tip at your entrance. who the hell was he to say no to his innocent baby? he stuck two fingers inside you, collectine some of your arousal to wrap around his cock as lubrication, "fuck, will you be able to take me?" he slowly pushed his tip inside, already struggling as your poor pussy hole fluttered around him. "baby, i don't think it'll fit-" he almost laughed.

"it'll fit!" you whined, grabbing his bare forearms. "i've fingered myself thinking about this moment many times, baby, it'll fit, make it fit, please, i want this, rip me apart, baby-"

slowly, hongjoong bottomed out inside you. the stretch stinging you — he almost came at your mere words and he didn't want to hear another second of it, so he patiently settled inside you for a moment, letting you get used to the sensation before he couldn't take it anymore. he might accidently cum inside you with the way your tight virgin hole squeezed around his long, fat cock. his pace started off slow, he pulled out at his tip before harshly slamming back inside you. you whined. "j-joong," you blubbered. "not too hard."

"okay, baby, i'm sorry," hongjoong leaned down, placing a kiss on your lips before slamming back inside you, slowly and gently. he set the vanilla pace. fuck, fuck, fuck, he was fucking you so good. you hated the thought that he had done this with other girls, but then again, if he didn't then he probably wouldn't have had the skill to fuck you like this right now.

"aah- faster," you whined and hongjoong complied, wanting nothing but to please you, to make your first time memorable. he thrust harder into you, his cock hitting your sweet spot you never even knew existed. "aah! ahhh~!" you involuntarily whined, you had never felt so good in your life, you never felt this before, the desire to reach your climax and the desire to never want this feeling to end. "i-i'm cumming, 'joong-" you whined as he fucked harder into you, abrupt thrusts, his head rested in the crook of your neck, letting out soft groans, his warm breath against your skin.

"cum for me, baby, that's right," he groaned as you squeezed tightly around him, creaming around his cock. "fuck, fuck, that's right baby…" he whispered, reaching his climax as well and painting your insides whiter than they have ever been.

"mmng…" you moaned, you couldn't get a word out even if you wanted to. too fucked out to form a coherent thought, hongjoong stayed inside of you until he softened. he pulled out, placing a kiss on your lips and nose.

"fuck, you took me so well, baby, you know that?" he made his way to face your pussy and began pushing the cum back inside your small hole. "mmh, your first time, you had a creampie? what a dirty slut you are, hmm?" he whispered, kissing the inside of your thigh before grabbing your discarded panties from the floor and sliding it back up your legs. all you could let out was a helpless whine, hongjoong dressed himself up, climbing into the couch wiht you, cuddling your naked, fucked out form into his fully clothed one. "sleep, baby, i'll clean you up at my dorm tomorrow, m'kay?"

"y'sure..?"

"yes, baby, don't worry."

220 notes · View notes

tinkerbelle05 · 1 year ago

Text

What are you hiding?

Characters: Jaime Reyes x GN!reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: (Requested) “x reader that figure out jaime’s blue beetle.” thanks for the reqs, I hope you like it! @tacorei

Warnings: arguments, spoilers for the Blue Beetle movie, thoughts of cheating, reckless behavior

Jaime have been off for some weeks now, you’ve noticed. He was always showing up late for date nights and hangouts, he’s always talking to himself, and just looks out of it.

You understood, he's been going through a lot recently. With his house burning to the ground and his father still in the hospital, you allowed him understanding and grace. He has a lot on his plate so he’s allowed to be weird and difficult, and you promised yourself you wouldn’t give him a tough time about it.

He was there by you when your grandpa passed and you were a mess. You still are, at times.

That being said though, you’ve been standing out of a restaurant that he suggested y’all go to for an hour. You kept texting him, asking when he’s going to come, and he keeps saying he’s “almost there” and “around the block”.

Which is a bold face lie, and you hated be lied to. He knew that and he still did it anyway. And it wasn’t even a good one at that.

“I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry,” Jaime ran up to you, holding a bouquet of crumbled-up flowers. “This for you!” His smile dimmed when he saw the state they were in though.

“Gee, thanks,” you replied dryly and walked off. You were annoyed with him. This was the 3rd time he showed up late, looking disgruntled this week. How could he not even have the decency to look somewhat put together if he’s gonna be this late. It was ridiculous.

While you walked away, you laughed bitterly to yourself, “Really thought you found the one, huh?”

“Wait, wait up!” Jaime yelled and ran after you. He looked like he cared that he was late.

You stopped walking to lean on a building, your legs were aching from all of the standing you’ve did. Jaime finally caught up to you. Your back was to him and thankfully he didn’t try to come closer to you. At least he knew boundaries.

“Listen, I’m so, so sorry. Something came up at work and I had to stay late. Really, I’m sorry. I will make it up to you. We could go back to your place, order food, binge the fast and furious movies?” He rattled off an apology.

You couldn’t see him but you can hear how desperate he was in his voice. He wanted to make it right but you don’t know if he could.

“Jaime, this dinner was supposed to be the apology and make up dinner. You know, for bailing on me last time?” You replied to him and tried to keep the tears at bay. You wouldn’t cry, you wouldn’t cry.

This is when he came closer to you, your back was still to him but You can smell his cologne. And you saw his shadow on the pavement.

“I know, I know,” he whispered softly. “I fucked up but-”

And you turned sharply around to finally face him, “Yes, yes. I know Jaime Reyes is busy at his job. Busy, busy, busy. God, what are you? Batman’s new sidekick or something?”

The outburst made Jaime take a few steps back and held up his hands in a surrender stance,“…What? Um, how…how did you know?!”

You tilted your head, confused by what he meant. “Um, know what Jaime? Are you hiding something from me?” You walked closer to him, backing up into a corner. “Is this why you’ve been distant lately? What’s up?”

He panicked, you saw the sweat dripping on his forehead and watched as he played with his hands. Something was up but he wouldn’t tell you. He probably never will.

“Oh, uh nothing. Don't worry about it,” he stammered.

You back away from him, “Well fine, if you want to be like that then. I think…that we should take a break.”

That got him out of his daze, he instantly closed the gap you made between eachother, “What? No, no, no. We don’t have to…you don’t have to do that. We..we’re fine. I’m just busy but-”

“That’s the point, Jaime,” you interrupted him. “You’re always busy, and that’s fine. But maybe you should focus on your work and y’know not lying to me.”

“I’m not lying!” He protested.

“So why were you all jumpy when I made that Batman joke then?” You asked.

“That? I….I said that was nothing. It…”

You shook your head and started back away again, “For someone who lies a lot, you are horrendously bad at it. Bye, Jaime.”

You ignored Jaime for a week. Every text message and phone call. Eventually though, he stopped trying to contact you. Which was a relief, you felt your resolve slipping everytime Jaime’s photo contact appeared on your phone.

It was one of those 0.5 pictures. You took at as revenge for the hundreds he took of you. You remember him being salty about that photo being his contact.

But in the meantime, you went down a rabbit hole of superhero lore. Jaime’s reaction to your snarky comment got you thinking, could Jaime be one?

Your immediate reaction was hell no. But when you started to mull over it, in a crooked way it sorta made sense. For example, Jaime’s behavior has been strange and he’s been looking disgruntled for a while. He has gotten a new job as an intern for Kord but it wasn’t that demanding. Your cousin had the same job and she wasn’t like well how Jaime was.

I mean, you were worried every time he was late or something. Of course, the obvious is, what if he's cheating on you? However, Jaime was many things but he’s not cheater.

So if he really is the Blue Beetle, well you saw his fights on the internet. They looked rough, and if that's him, then maybe you could help.

And maybe he’s looking all tired and being late to a lot of stuff is because he’s moonlighting as a vigilante. Through some digging you made a time line of sorts.

And…it just scares you. Not knowing.

There were some evidence to support your theory. For example, when Jaime’s house caught on fire, many people said Kord and Blue Beetle (the city’s new superhero) was sighted. Kord and the Blue Beetle were some how connected, you saw articles on that.

And around Blue Beetle’s appearance was when Jaime started acting differently. You know this rationale was being held together with glue and a hope that you could at least know where Jaime is.

But how would you even get him to admit it? If he was Blue Beetle. You walked away from and told you wanted a break, and still didn’t confess to it. And all of his texts messages weren’t alluding that he’s Blue Beetle.

Maybe…no, no, that’s dumb. But could Does it work? You think it can, you hoped it can. The Blue Beetle could fly, so if you jumped off the roof then Jamie would have no choice but to transform.

Or call the cops to retrieve your dead body.

The confidence you had in your room began to slowly chipped away as you climbed to your apartment building's roof. Your legs began to shake and your heart was beating faster than before.

But you guessed that's where the "curiosity killed the cat" quote came from. You called Jaime earlier to meet you at the rooftop to talk, he was clearly confused by the location but considering this was the first time you responded to him in weeks, he didn't reject it.

The warm air was blowing in your face when you finally reached up there, Jaime's back was turned to you.

He turned around to face you, "Hey..." He didn't move to come closer to you, just stood in his place, looking at you with those soft brown eyes.

God, he's so pretty.

And liar.

And probably a superhero.

You will find out today though.

"Hey, Jaime. How have you been?" you asked him, sheepishly.

God, why was this so awkward?

He closes the distance between you two, "Um, yeah I've been good. Could've been better, though. You?"

You scratched the back of your neck, "Yeah, I've been good too. But, um, I wanted to talk to you about something. About us." You stepped even closer to Jaime, lowering your voice to a whisper, "I know your secret, Jaime."

Jaime took a few steps backward, a shocked look on his face, "Uh what secret? What are you talking about? Is…is this shout the superhero thing? I thought you wanted to talk about us?"

"This is about us, Jaime! I know everything, why can't you just admit it already?!" your voice getting louder with each word.

You didn't want it to be like this but fine. You walked past Jaime, walking closer to the railing of the roof. You heard him running after you, panicked "Wait" and "What are you doing?" flew from his mouth.

You turned around to face him, "If you don't tell me the truth right now, I'll jump right now! I know you are Blue Beetle, Jaime."

Your declaration left Jaime speechless, all he could do was close and open his mouth repeatedly. "I...okay just get...get down okay? You're scaring me. I am not Blue Beetle, alright? You're just tired, that's all."

"You're lying to me! You keep lying and I'm sick of it! I'm not stupid or crazy, Jaime. There are too many coincidences for it to not make sense. It's not like I'll tell anyone. I just want to know.”

You could see that Jaime looked conflicted, his eyes kept darting back and forth.

Fine, if he wants it to be difficult, then you can make it difficult. You took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and fell. You prayed and prayed that Jaime was Blue Beetle because if he wasn't...

You heard Jaime scream your name and leaped after you. You saw with your own very eyes, Jaime transforming, the black and blue suit covered his skin completely, almost like the suit was his second skin.

Now Jaime was flying, with the help of blasters, instead of falling with you. He grabbed a hold of you before you could hit the ground, he held on to you tightly. Like you were grains of sand or sugar, ready to slip through his fingers at any moment without much notice.

He flew you back to the rooftop and sat you on the ground, before crushing you into a bear hug. You could practically feel his heart beating through his chest and could hear him taking deep breaths to calm himself down.

You couldn’t blame him, you were in shock too. Your boyfriend (?) was freaking Blue Beetle! I mean you had your suspicions for weeks, and your murder board led you to the conclusion that he was Blue Beetle.

But seeing it before you very eyes was completely different though. You were right! You trusted your gut and you were correct.

But that means that Jaime lied to you. To your face, for weeks. Even when your on the edge of a building, he wouldn’t even admit it!

You pushed him away, glaring up at him and saw him glaring at you with an equally furious expression.

“What is wrong with you?! How could you do something so stupid, so reckless?!” he screamed at you.

His words, though true, offended you nonetheless. And you returned it with the same energy.

“Well, I wouldn't have to do any of that if you would’ve just told me in the first place! But instead, all you did was lie, lie, and lie!” you argued back.

He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, “I was just trying to protect you! This…this life is dangerous, and I…I just wanted to protect you.”

Your anger disappeared when you heard how broken he sounded, saw how distraught he looked. His cheeks were tear-streaked and his eyes were puffy.

“I…I just don't want to lose you,” he admitted.

Seeing him like this, it made your chest hurt. Felt like it was collapsing onto it self. You wanted to hug him, kiss his tears away.

But those feelings didn’t stop the burning anger you feel. God, this was messy. It would’ve been so much easier if he was as angry as you were. You felt like kicking a puppy while it was already down.

“Jaime, being honest is protecting me. How can you not get that? How do you think it feels when you just run off in the middle of our dates? Or when you come late to them, looking frazzled? Or when you just flat out cancel on them last minute with vague explanations as to why. I didn’t know what was going on with you, and that worried me. If you told me you were Blue Beetle, I would have some comfort of knowing where you are. How can you honestly not get that?”

You took a deep breath after letting out that confession. You didn’t exactly mean to say all of that, you would have preferred to have that conversation once you both have calmed down a bit more.

And maybe not on the roof top in the middle of night as well.

Jaime was confused by your confession, “What? So..this wasn’t because you thought I was cheating?”

“Oh Jaime for the love of God, no! I know you, you aren't a cheater. It was because it scared me. I mean, how would you feel if I just disappeared all the time?!” you were back to screaming in his face with just plain annoyance now.

He had a look of understanding now, on his face. He lets out a soft “oh” and then the silence stretched in between you both as he looked everywhere but you.

God, when this become such a mess.

“Um,” Jaime cleared his throat, “So…what do you wanna do? About this? Us?”

“I…I don’t know Jaime,” you muttered. “But it’s getting late and I have work tomorrow.”

Jaime nodded but you could tell that’s not what he wanted to hear, and you didn’t either. But, maybe more space was what you two needed right now.

You watched him shot up into the sky and until he became a small dot, no different from the stars.

This was longer than expected. My bad lol

Tags: @fhhahaha12, @allthingsvicf, @louiesdaydream, @herrescasper, @niluuuuu, @666kpopfan, @bluecray0nn, @champagnelovers101, @starii-light, @asvterias, @wintersdeadd, @shslsimpette, @losingmywayyyy, @sodacatz, @scryarchives, @marmar-c, @strawberrycreamb, @nightwingandhissquad, @conicoroahre

Special thanks to @alienstardust for their help with this fic! 🫶🏿

Taglist & Reqs Info & Masterlist & Anonlist

#jaime reyes x reader #jaime reyes x you #jaime reyes x y/n #jaime reyes fic #jaime reyes fanfic #jaime reyes fanfiction #jaime reyes imagine #blue beetle fic #blue beetle fanfiction #blue beetle fanfic #blue beetle imagine #blue beetle x reader #blue beetle x you #blue beetle x y/n #reader insert #jaime reyes angst

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goosefruit · 11 months ago

Text

the sound of her voice

vanessa shelly x reader

tw: phone sex, sub!reader, sex toys (bullet vibrator & dildo), teasing, orgasm denial, masturbation, maybe exhibitionism (not really? vanessa is in a public space but alone), a lot of dirty talk

================================================

You had always been a good girl for Vanessa.

Normally, on your days off, you’d wait patiently for her to come home, sometimes even dressing up to give her a pleasant little surprise. In return, she’d reward you with her tongue and fingers until the both of you were too tired to keep going.

Normally, you would never tease her while she was at work, aside from the occasional suggestive text.

Today, however, time felt unbearably slow. Every part of your body was aching to have Vanessa by your side, but it would be at least another 2 hours before she was home.

That was when a wicked idea came to your mind.

Getting off your living room couch, you made a trip to your bedroom closet to look for a couple of items. A blush crept up your cheeks as you thought about this brilliant plan that you were about to execute.

You laid down on the bed with a small but powerful bullet vibrator, as well as the dildo that was usually attached to Vanessa’s strap-on harness. The silicone cock was a whopping 8 inches long, in a dark shade of purple. Memories of your girlfriend bouncing you on it in the back of her cop car flashed through your mind, sending a wave of arousal down to your core.

To make the experience even more pleasurable, you decided to wear nothing but one of Vanessa’s hoodies. Wrapped up in her scent, you felt as if you could close your eyes and pretend that you were laying in her lap.

And so you turned on the vibrator and dialed her phone number.

“Y/N! What’s up, honey?” Her sweet voice sang out from the other end.

“Vanessa,” you slipped the toy under the hoodie, pressing it against your nipple. The sensitive peak became hard and erect at the contact, and you bit your lip to avoid making a noise. “Nothing’s going on today. I just reeaally wanted to hear your voice.”

Vanessa gave a light laugh. “Miss you too, babe. I just finished checking up on Freddy’s; thought there was a break-in, but it was just a raccoon who slipped in and broke some shit trying to get to a pizza that the new night guard left out."

“That’s absurd! Hope the little guy at least got a bite,” the vibrator began to move lower, now at your hip bone. “So, does this mean you’re still in the pizzeria’s parking lot, in that cop car of yours?”

“Mhm,”

“Alone?”

“Completely. You know no one visits this place other than me and the ever-changing night guards.”

“Great,” you smirked to yourself, drawing soft circles on your inner thigh with the vibrator. “Because I’m in bed right now, warming myself up for you when you get home.” You turned the vibrator up a setting so that it was loud enough for her to hear through the phone.

“Oh, are you now?”

The confidence in her voice almost made you rethink your decisions, but you pushed through and continued talking.

“And oh fuck, my pussy is so wet. It’s practically dripping for you, Vanessa.” Putting the phone on speaker, you set it down beside you so that you could run a finger through your slick folds while the other hand guided the toy closer. “I’ve been thinking about you all day, the things I want you to do to me, and the things I want to do to you. You drive me crazy, you know that? Fuck, I wish you were here with me.”

“Well, I can’t say that I’m not enjoying this newfound boldness, sweetheart.” There was a hint of raspiness in her voice. “But you know you could never touch yourself as good as I do.”

The vibrator finally completed its journey to your clit, and a loud moan escaped from between your lips.

“Mmm, fuck— and guess what, Nessa? I’m wearing nothing except for your hoodie…smells heavenly. Can almost pretend you’re here eating out my pussy. Ohh god— feels fucking a–amazing—”

You took the dildo and lined it up with your dripping wet hole, slowly pushing the tip in. The vibrator was still held in place on your clit, the double stimulation causing your eyes to roll back.

“I’ve got our favourite dildo here too. That huge one you love to destroy me with…better get it nice and lubed up for you when we have our fun later. It’s suuuch a shame you can’t see how well my pussy is taking it right now.” You pushed the entire length of the dildo in before pulling out to thrust it into your pussy. Keeping quiet was no longer a concern as curses and moans spewed out of you. “Ohh y–yeah— can you hear how wet my fuckhole is?”

“Yes baby, keep talking,” her heavy breathing was audible.

You pounded the toy into your pussy harder. “If you were fucking me, I would hook my legs over your shoulders so you can rail me so deep I can’t walk the next day. Doesn’t that sound nice? Just like t–that, baby— bruise my fucking insides. Make me cum, Van– mmm!” At this point, you were rambling, saying anything that came to mind. Your brain had already turned to mush the second she started speaking in that sultry fucking voice.

Vanessa let out a long groan, the same one you were used to hearing every time you made her cum. Did she just…?

“Fuck,” she panted, a quiet moan coming from her back of her throat.

The realization made you halt in your actions. “Vanessa, did you just have an orgasm!?”

“Oh honey, I told you the parking lot’s empty. What? You thought I wasn’t going to touch myself to my pretty girl’s voice?”

The thought of Vanessa in the driver’s seat of her car with a hand down her pants made your stomach tighten with excitement. You began to fuck yourself with the dildo again.

“V–Vanessa— I’m getting close too—” you pleaded, praying that she would let you cum from your own hands just this once.

“Not yet, sweet thing. You’re going to stay on call with me while I finish my patrol for today, but don’t you dare cum before I get home.”

You whined, not knowing whether you could last even 5 more minutes.

“But by all means, keep fucking yourself. My radio’s broken, so give me something satisfying to listen to.”

“Vanessa– I ca—’t—”

“You said you wanted me to make you cum, no? So be a good girl and hold on for me.”

Of course, you were her good girl. So even though your sensitive clit couldn’t possibly handle any more stimulation, you turned the vibrator up another setting.

“I’ll be home in an hour.”

#fnaf x reader #vanessa afton #vanessa fnaf #vanessa shelly #vanessa shelly x reader #vanessa monroe #vanessa shelly smut #wlw nsft #fnaf vanessa

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queen-of-the-avengers · 11 months ago

Text

Not Allowed: Part Two

Pairing: Cop!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: Now that you and Bucky are together, it doesn't seem like anything can ruin your good mood. That is until Brandon comes back with a vendetta against your new boyfriend.

PART ONE

Squares Filled: accidental feelings (2020) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

All you can think about is Bucky’s lips on yours and his hand on your ass. What he said that night was true: you weren’t enjoying your date with Brandon. He’s arrogant, only thinks about himself, loves to hear himself talk, and is a complete douche. Bucky is everything Brandon isn’t. Bucky is sweet, caring, thoughtful, and very bold. If your years of flirting told you anything, Bucky is a cheeky flirt but only for you.

He doesn’t do that to anyone else in the office.

You avoided Bucky the entire weekend to gather your thoughts and prepare yourself to see him. He texted you a couple of times but understood you might need your space, especially when he knows he might have overwhelmed you. You pull into the parking lot on Monday morning with a racing heart and sweaty palms. The second you get out of your car, you feel his presence behind you. He must have been waiting for you to show up even though you’re one of the only ones who show up before everyone else.

Bucky’s body heat radiates off him so much that you can feel it on your skin even though you’re wearing clothes. He doesn’t have to say anything to make you aware of how he’s feeling. He grabs your waist and turns you so you’re facing him, and he leans down to kiss you. His lips are only on yours for a few seconds before you pull away with a nervous giggle.

“Do I make you nervous?”

“Yes. You’re very intimidating… in a good way,” you quickly add.

“Alright, I’m sorry,” he chuckles and backs up to give you some space. “I want to take you out tonight. What do you say? Will you go on a date with me?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you smile.

You lock your car and the two of you walk to the police station together. You walk ahead of him to get to your desk and he not-so-subtly checks your ass out in your dress.

“I have got to say, that dress is working for you. You look gorgeous.”

You look down at the frilly dress you bought this weekend. It’s baby pink with white flowers on it, and it’s completely appropriate for work. You wiggle your hips to make it shake and Bucky laughs.

“Thank you. It’s new.”

Bucky winks at you as he walks to the back where his desk is. You immediately get to work and sort through your emails as the rest of the officers file into the building. You greet them all like you do every morning, smiling at Sam when he walks in.

“Hey, how was your weekend?”

“Probably not better than yours,” he grins. “I hear two certain someones are together now?”

“Wow, word travels fast here, huh?”

“Well, it’s hard not to when our desks are so close together. Not that I’m surprised. You two have always had that spark. I’m kind of jealous if I’m being honest.”

“I didn’t know you wanted Bucky like that,” you joke.

“Har-har,” Sam rolls his eyes with a smile. “No, I never had that connection with anyone before. Look at me, I’m thirty-eight and still single.”

“Don’t stress about it. It’s going to happen. You’re a great guy who deserved someone equally as great.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

Sam heads to his desk to begin his work day while you finish checking your emails. It takes an hour to get through all of them, and you close the browser once you’re done. You lean back to take a small five-minute break when the front doors to the station open. Brandon storms inside with an angry look on his face, and you immediately stand up in shock.

“Brandon, what--”

“Where is Officer Barnes?” he sneers.

Someone clears their throat from behind you, and you look to see Bucky leaning on the door frame that separates the lobby and the officers’ desks.

“Right here.” Bucky walks to your desk and stands next to it. Has he been there the entire time? “Can I help you?”

Brandon takes out the ticket that he issued him on Friday along with the bill from his mechanic. He practically throws the two pieces of paper in his face, and you watch as they flutter to the counter.

“My taillight wasn’t fucking broken. I went to the mechanic who told me everything was fine.”

Bucky crosses his arms which makes his arms look bigger than they are. If you’re being honest, he looks hot right now, especially in his uniform. His police belt fits snugly around his waist, and his ass looks good in the black slacks they provide for him.

“They were broken when I looked at them.”

This only pisses Brandon off more.

“You’re going to pay my mechanic bill!”

“Sir, you need to calm down.”

Again, Brandon rages at how calm Bucky is. How were you ever on a date with this guy? He never showed this type of anger when it was just the two of you.

“This is so fucking stupid! This entire place is crawling with corrupt cops.” Brandon’s wild eyes land on your wide ones. He raises his hand and points a crooked finger at you while taking a step toward you. “You’re no fucking better.”

Bucky jumps into action, grabs his outstretched arm, and pins it behind his back. He slams Brandon facedown onto your desk, and you jump at the sudden action. Bucky reaches behind him and grabs his handcuffs so he can slap them on Brandon’s wrists.

“Don’t you point your fucking finger at her. You need to calm down before you get arrested,” Bucky threatens.

You watch Bucky handle the situation with ease, and you bite your lower lip in thought. The commotion catches the attention of a few officers, and Sam rushes into the main lobby.

“What is going on here?”

“Take him to holding,” Bucky says and yanks Brandon upright. Sam knows better than to question Bucky right now. He grabs Brandon’s arm and escorts him out of the room. You quickly turn and leave the main lobby to gather your thoughts. “Doll, wait!” Bucky follows you to an empty hallway. “Hey, don’t worry. He won’t hurt you.”

“That’s not it,” you shake your head.

“What is it?”?” he asks. He steps closer to you. “What are you thinking about?”

“That was hot,” you say with a blush.

Bucky smirks and places his left hand on the wall, semi-trapping you there.

“Oh, yeah?”

You give him a shy nod, and he cups your jaw with his right hand. His hand is so big that it rests mostly on your neck, and he still has enough room to rub his thumb on your skin. He pulls you closer and kisses you. He’s so magnetic and surrounds you in everything you do. This time, you embrace the kiss instead of pulling away from him.

Brandon spent the entire day in lockup and was let go before your shift ended. Like what Bucky has done so many times before, he waits for you to get off just so he can walk you to your car. He can make the excuse he doesn’t want Brandon to come back and hurt you, but it’s really so he can spend more time with you.

“Thank you for walking me to my car,” you smile at him.

“Anytime, Doll. I’ll pick you up at eight, okay?”

“Okay.”

You and Bucky go your separate ways, and you drive home wondering where Bucky is going to take you. What kind of man is Bucky? Where would he take a girl on the first date? You get home an hour and a half before Bucky wants to pick you up, so you have time to take a shower and change into something cuter. You have a knee-length dress with pockets that you’ve been wanting to wear that you think would be perfect for this.

Once you’re done with your shower, you do your hair and makeup before getting dressed. You’ve just finished when you hear someone knock on your door. You check the final look in the mirror by the front door before opening it.

Bucky is out of his police uniform and decided to wear something more casual. His jeans hug his ass perfectly, his muscles are well defined in the thin Henley he threw on, and his hair is tousled perfectly. He takes one look at you and whistles lowly in appreciation.

“Damn. You look amazing.”

“Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“Shall we?” he offers his arm.

“Of course.”

You take his arm, and he leads you to his Mercedes AMG GT. His house is only twenty minutes from your place, but it feels longer with Bucky’s hand on your thigh for the entire trip. You really like him, you’re just so nervous around him. Flirting with him is way different than allowing him into your life like this. You’ve been burned before, so you’re a bit cautious when it comes to guys you let in. You don’t want to ruin this thing you have with Bucky because of your nerves so you’re going to take it one step at a time.

Bucky reaches his house with ease and pulls into his driveway.

“I hope you don’t mind a night in.”

“Actually, I really like that. It’s just us.”

“Exactly,” he smiles.

You’ve never seen the inside of his place despite knowing him for two years. He’s always been a private person which you valued. It’s tough to know what he’s thinking at times, which makes him even more mysterious than usual. His house is very minimalistic with very few pictures on the wall and not a lot of things to suggest that someone lives here. Your place is the complete opposite because you have pictures and trinkets everywhere in your house.

“I’m going to cook for you tonight. I figure some good food, delicious wine, and some slow music would make the perfect first date.”

“You’re making me blush,” you chuckle and touch your heated cheeks.

“That’s good, yeah?” he chuckles and leads you to the kitchen.

“Yeah.”

The kitchen is very clean and large with a large kitchen island in the middle of the room. He grabs a bottle of your favorite wine and pours two glasses. You’re not much of a cook so you’re content with sitting here and watching him do all of the work. While you take your spot at the kitchen island, Bucky gets to work cooking.

Bucky at work in his police uniform is very attractive, but seeing him barefoot in his own kitchen cooking expertly is a sight in itself. He looks so calm compared to the hard act he puts on at work. Sure, you two flirt, but he doesn’t really smile much unless it’s with you. Here, he’s free to be himself and it shows.

His muscles flex whenever he chops the food up, and you can see his back muscles move when he is flipping the food in the pan. You're already halfway done with your wine when he is almost done cooking, and you decide to pace yourself before you get a bit too tipsy and ruin this. Your fingers dance along the rim of the glass as you admire him.

“Do I have something on my face?” he chuckles and plates the food.

“Have I ever told you how attractive you are?”

“Once or twice.”

“Well, you are.”

“Are you a lightweight? Do you need some water?”

“No, I can hold my alcohol. I’m just… happy.”

Bucky smiles but doesn’t say anything as he finishes with the plate. He cooked something you’ve never had before but are willing to try.

“That’s all I ever want you to be with me,” he says honestly. “Food’s ready.”

You grab the wine and he takes the food to the dining room where there is a big table meant for ten or more people. But tonight, it’s just you two so he takes the end seat and the one to the right of it.

“I hope you like it. It’s something new I tried a couple of days ago. I figure the best person to try it out would be you.”

You cut into your food and take a bite, and you almost moan at how good it tastes.

“This is so fucking good. You’re really good at cooking. Have you ever taken classes?”

“No, my mom taught me everything I know. After she died, I really started getting serious about it to keep her memory alive.”

“That’s so sweet.”

“Yeah, she always cooked this vegetable soup every week in high school. It didn’t matter what I had planned. I wanted to be home to eat it.”

“She sounded amazing,” you smile and take another sip of your wine.

“She was. You would have liked her.”

“So, what were you like in high school? Would I have talked to you?”

“I was a bit of a player,” he chuckles nervously. “I don’t think you would have gone for me but I would have definitely gone for you.”

“I don’t know. Bad boys were kind of my forte.” You smirk mischievously and eat some more. “I was a book girl who did her school work. I guess I wanted someone like you to come in and sweep me off my feet.”

“Am I doing it now?”

“Oh, you are definitely doing it now,” you laugh.

You and Bucky fill the rest of the meal with light chatter about both your pasts until you’re both done with your food. He takes your hand and leads you to the living room so you can move this party to the couch.

“Have you always been like this? Where are pictures of your friends and family? It looks so bare.”

“I never had any need to put pictures up.”

“What about your family? Your mom?”

“Yeah, I have pictures in the basement. Everything about me is down there. I just never had any desire to put them up.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll liven this place up in no time,” you grin and sip your wine.

Bucky gently takes the glass from you when you’re done and places both yours and his on the sleek coffee table. He leans back onto the couch and pulls you closer by your hips. You’re not quite on his lap but close enough to where you can sit on it with one move. He slides his right hand in your hair and pulls you into him so he can kiss you.

Kissing him feels like Heaven because he knows exactly what he’s doing. His lips move expertly over yours and his tongue swipes against your lower lip. You open your mouth to let him in, and he moves his hands over your hips to pull you onto his lap.

“Wait, wait,” you pulls away with a pant.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Like I said before, you’re kind of intimidating and I’m kind of nervous. Can we just lay here tonight? Just me and you?”

“Of course. I never want to make you do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“Thank you,” you smile and peck his lips.

Bucky shifts on the couch so that he’s lying flat on it, and you lay your entire body over his like a small child would do with their parent. Bucky runs his hands up and down your back gently and you put your ear over his heartbeat since its rhythm calms you.

What you have with Bucky is rare and you don’t want to mess it up by going too fast. He’s too important to you.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fiction #bucky barnes fluff #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel fan fiction #marvel #marvel fan fic #mcu #marvel fluff #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfiction #marvel fiction

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accirax · 9 months ago

Text

Danganronpa: Despair Time Mastermind Ranking (Least to Most)

Yeah, I should’ve known that I needed to get around to this someday.

You see, the reason why I hadn’t made a theory about the identity of the Despair Time mastermind is that… I'm not totally convinced on any one person being the mastermind. Like, look at these clowns! They’re all so weird! I love them all for it, obviously, but none of their personality quirks or roles in the story stand out to me as particularly mastermind-y. There are a lot of characters that I believe could be the mastermind, but it’s also pretty easy to convince me out of it for one reason or another.

However, it’s not like I had any idea about who the P:EG mastermind would be, either! At least with two chapters under its belt, I can feel more comfortable that I’m not just fully mischaracterizing the Despair Time cast. And I definitely have things to say about various DRDT masterminds, just… in a way that’s kinda hard to rank.

But, that’s no reason for me to be cowardly! I’m sure that seriously scrutinizing all of the characters’ mastermind potentials and ultimately coming up with who I think the most likely candidate is will be super fun. It’s just… going to be really long, so, buckle in. And maybe prepare to take breaks in the middle.

(Spoilers for all three main canon games and DRDT.)

Why is it going to be so long? Well, it’s because, when it comes to DRDT, I think that my predictions will be at least partially based on how long I think each character will make it into the story. If I have a particularly strong inclination that a character is going to die in Chapter 3.456, no matter how unfounded, it might make me feel worse about their prospects of being the mastermind. That’s not to say that a mastermind can’t appear to die (or actually die) before Chapter 6 rolls around, of course. However, it is an uncommon additional hurdle to the story that would require some justification and a little suspension of disbelief if I’m trying to call it years before it transpires.

So, if we’re going to talk about the mastermind, I need to share my current feelings about where each character might place in the death order. Should I update the title…?

Danganronpa: Despair Time Mastermind Ranking (Least to Most) AND ALSO Death Order Predictions

These are my mastermind rankings, so my opinions on where the characters might be headed will obviously be used as the baseline. Naturally, you don’t need to believe in anything I'm about to throw out here. I’m just trying to explain my thought process so that nothing I say later on will come as a total surprise.

Also, since it’s kind of long, here’s the top of the death order section. I think it’ll provide some important context, but if you want to skip it, look for the other green, bold text.

Some of my thoughts were inspired by anderscim’s death predictions theory, as I read that pretty soon after I joined the fandom. I encourage you to go read their work as well!

The tiers are mostly pretty self explanatory– 3-4 means I think they’re at risk of dying sooner and 4-5 means I think they’re at risk of dying later. But, I’ll give everyone what I hope to be a quick rundown on each character just to explain my thinking.

Xander: Xander canonically died as the Chapter 1 victim.

Min: Min canonically died as the Chapter 1 blackened.

Arei: While I respect the concept, I personally don’t believe in the “J and Arei swapped places and Arei is actually still alive” theory, and I will be writing the rest of this post accordingly. So, to me, Arei canonically died as the Chapter 2 victim.

Eden: Pretty much anyone who’s seen my DRDT theories at this point shouldn't be surprised that I’m listing Eden as the Chapter 2 killer. The logic behind this belief has been explained by my lovely mutuals here and here.

Levi: Alright, on to the ones I don’t have any concrete evidence to support! (There is concrete evidence behind the ch2 murder, even if you believe it points elsewhere.) Levi has had a decent amount of focus already in his trainwreck of a relationship with Ace and discussions of morality with Eden and Teruko. If he does serve as an accomplice to the Chapter 2 killer (see the first link in Eden’s section), then I feel like his clock will really be ticking. He’d be trapped with the branding of a bad person, his greatest fear, and left without any relationships to lean on. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone targeted him as a victim they “believed deserved to die after what happened,” or even if Levi decided that he was doomed to be a villain from the start and decided to kill. Alternatively, he could try to redeem himself as a classic Chapter 4 buff curse sacrifice in some way. In either case (or even in the case of him just being the Chapter 2 killer), I have my doubts that he’ll be making it too much later into the game.

Arturo: To me, Arturo doesn’t feel like a character set up for incredible longevity. That doesn’t mean I’m pigeonholing him as a one-dimensional villain or pure comedic relief, just that Arturo seems like a character who might be set up to have his ideology lead to his downfall. I don’t think he’s dying in Chapter 2, as I believe the narrative would want to see how he reacts to J burning the bridges between them, but I could definitely see the story only needing one more round of daily life (or possibly a trial as well) to resolve wherever his character is going.

Charles: Look, it’s not only because he’s already been pronounced dead at 3. As I elaborated upon in Charles’ section of this post (The Jerk), Charles feels like he’s speeding towards the end of his character arc far ahead of schedule. It could just be that he needed to learn to make friends quickly before Whit makes an early exit, sending him on a secondary arc where he learns to process his current grief and fears as a parallel to regaining memories about Elliot. However, I find it much more likely that the Inevitable CharWhit Doom Scenario plays out in the opposite direction. He makes a lot of sense as a Chapter 3 victim to me.

Nico: Similar to Arei and J, I am writing all of my theories with the assumption that it really was Nico who attempted to murder Ace in Chapter 2, because I think it makes the most narrative sense. (I could keep typing out a “well, unless” every time, but I don’t really want to eat up my time writing or your time reading all of that.) Through that lens, the fact that Nico has already murdered someone and “gotten away with it,” more or less, puts them in a really weird situation. I don’t really see them killing again, as it feels like we’ve already explored the emotional and narrative implications of that happening through Chapter 2. Although, I can’t deny that it would be interesting to see the fallout of Ace being proven totally right and Hu 100% wrong. Still, if they were to be a survivor after doing something so severe so early into the game, it seems like they would have to undergo some sort of redemption for the audience to accept them as a face of hope in the end. I don’t currently see any great paths to that happening, although there’s obviously still plenty of story time for something to open up. For now, though, I feel more confident in placing them as a early/mid-game victim, likely as a consequence of choosing to harm someone else.

Hu: Given her overall lack of focus in the story thus far, I find it likely that Hu will be one of the focal characters of the Chapter 3 daily life. That could be bad news, considering how Xander and Arei fared after being focused upon in their respective daily lives, but… I dunno, I just feel like Hu would survive it, somehow? Wouldn’t be too surprised if she didn’t, but my gut instinct is that she would. I kind of see her character exiting the story in Chapter 4, no preference on killer vs victim.

Veronika: Veronika is a very weird character (an “oddball,” I’ll call it), and thus, my predictions for her are strongly based on the patterns that oddball characters normally follow. I’ll be using canon characters only, because I believe that those are the only killing games that I have the right to assume every DRDT fan has seen. But, you can apply these same kinds of patterns to many fangan characters. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for fangans breaking from typical Danganronpa norms and following their own paths. But, in the case of how oddballs are treated, I think these characters generally tend to follow these patterns because they’re sensible writing practices. I’ll try to explain why each of these conventions makes sense in the following bullet points.

Oddballs tend not to die in Chapters 1 or 2. This is because oddball characters are generally created to supply a very niche kind of comedic relief– examples from DRDT could include Arturo’s commentary on ugly people or Ace’s bizarre remarks of cowardice. Any character deemed worthy of being included in a fangan occupies one of 16 highly contested slots. So, if you include a character for the purpose of making jokes with them, you'll want to get your bang for your buck! It’s hard to fit every joke you have in mind into only a chapter or two. The best example I could come up with for a (canon) oddball who dies early is Teruteru. In his case, the writers likely anticipated that his hyper-flirtatious nature would get tiring if it continued on for too long, and thus, exhausted all of the jokes they wanted to make in Chapter 1 before his exit. An oddball who dies this early has a limited shelf life, and is likely accompanied by other oddballs who can pick up the comedic slack.

Many have pointed out that silly oddballs often die in Chapter 3 (Hifumi, Ibuki, Tenko) as a way to signify the death of fun and innocence. You also have a chance to get rid of some of the more sinister oddballs (Celeste, Kiyo) at a point where it seems unfeasible for them to have stuck around this long without… well, killing someone. In either case, it’s because Chapter 3 is a great balance of letting a character stay in a story for long enough that they achieve whatever strange effects you wanted from them, while also clearing them off the stage before you get into the really serious business. Silly oddballs especially may not be equipped to handle the often turbulent natures of Chapter 4 without breaking the serious tone too much, so it’s best to axe them at the midpoint.

Endearing oddballs (Gundham, Gonta) have a hard time making it past Chapter 4. If Chapter 4 is serious, Chapters 5 and 6 are even more so, and the Chapter 4 killer slot in particular is a viable dumping ground for characters who don’t really have a place in the finale. Their deaths are meant to pull at your heartstrings and prove how a killing game can make literally anyone– yes, even that guy– a killer. (Miu is an outlier; more like an extended Chapter 3. Unlike THH, which has its tonal shift at the end-of-Ch3-Sakura Traitor Reveal, and SDR2, which has its tonal shift at Mikan’s insanity and death, v3’s tonal shift comes at Kokichi's accusation and Kaito and Shuichi's argument, or possibly even Miu's death itself. The Chapter 4 Daily Life isn’t all that serious in and of itself. Thus, Miu dying as a Ch4 victim functions more like killing off a silly oddball before she has to deal with all the betrayal and scheming that occurs later on.)

Oddballs really only die in Chapter 5 to the extent that you can count major antagonists like Nagito and Kokichi as Weird Dudes. As the precursor to the big, showstopping, mind-bending Chapter 5 Trial, the mood is typically pretty… straightforward. Depending on the overall plot’s arc, Chapter 5 is either the point where most of the surviving students are concluding their character arcs and learning how potent a weapon teamwork is (THH, SDR2), or a “dark night of the soul” type moment where all of the slowly growing inter-character conflicts are finally coming to a head (v3). It can also be Version A for some characters and Version B for others, but, either way, hijinks are not ensuing, basically. Plot relevant things happen here, and as such, plot relevant characters are the ones who are dying. It can be hard for an oddball to find a place in the narrative relevant enough to serve as one of its final, poignant deaths without also being a major antagonist.

Despite everything I’ve said about oddballs dying, it is definitely possible for oddballs to survive. Danganronpa is, at its core, a dark comedy, and as such killing off all of your funny joke characters before the ending is probably a bad move. Hiro, Toko, Kazuichi, and Himiko are all characters I’d call oddballs that survive until the very end. The difference in their case is that part of their oddball nature is being… kind of pathetic? I think it helps them fade into the background more. It's also probably easier to give them a character arc than some others... like Veronika.

I’m sure that you can find exceptions to these “rules” I’ve laid out, especially amongst casts that have a high percentage of oddballs (which you could certainly argue fits DRDT). However, pattern recognition brain go brrrr. I don’t think that Veronika fits the description of a Chapter 1-2, Chapter 4, or survivor oddball particularly well. That leaves Chapter 3 (sinister) and Chapter 5 (bewildering antagonist). I don’t know if it’s that Veronika doesn't seem to have much of a reason to kill at this point in time or all of Veronika’s weird mastermind coding that makes me think DRDTdev might have greater plans for her. Either way, I’m leaning Chapter 5, probably victim. Jeez, that was a long section for one character. Favoritism, I guess?

J: J gets her own category because, honestly, I have no idea what to do with her. Could J make it to the end? Sure! Could J die in a Chapter 3 scheme? Sure! Could J be the Chapter 2 killer? Well, I personally believe the evidence points elsewhere, but in terms of narrative? Sure! The only real inclination I have is that I think it’s more likely that she would be a killer than a victim, mostly because Ultimate Effects Artist is a talent that could lend itself to some really creative and fun murder setups. Given that I have more characters pegged as early game deaths right now, I lean towards J late game, but… man, I don’t know!

Teruko: Teruko is the protagonist, and also is a Lucky Student who allegedly “can’t die.” Especially after she made that claim, it would be silly if she died before the ending– it’d just kinda make her look like a fool. I’m not averse to theories where Teruko is no longer the protagonist by the end, whether by her death or someone else taking up the role for whatever reason, but in the sense that “Survivor” = “Chapter 6,” I think Teruko will survive. I’m not here to predict crazy last-minute Kiibo-blowing-himself-up twists.

Rose: I think that Rose has a really nice arc of overcoming her fears and becoming less passive set up in front of her. We spent enough time establishing her relationship with Teruko that I could see her being a good potential friend/support character to Teruko in the endgame if relationships with people like Eden or Charles fall through. (And, at this point, you know what I think about Eden and Charles…) She’s also good at delivering low-key jokes that can provide some levity without totally ruining the tone. We already saw some of that in this scene. The main things that I think could be standing in her way are her photographic memory and history of debt. The photographic memory could be too annoying of an obstacle to write around for the entire game, and instead be an ongoing effect set to expire in in Chapter 3. Additionally, a money motive paralleling THH’s in Chapter 3 could be too tempting for Rose to pass up. Really, what I’m saying is, if Rose can make it through Chapter 3, I think she’s golden. We’ll just have to see how that Chapter pans out in the future.

David: Oh, David. Currently serving as Teruko’s largest antagonist, I can see why people would think that he would die in Chapter 5. However, I’m not going to beat around the bush and pretend that I’m the only person who thinks David might survive, either. As an inspirational speaker, David is established early on as a character who should be a beacon of hope, before revealing that he’s more of a hope-sucking black hole. It would make sense if, alongside Teruko, he learns to find more of a balance between blithe optimism and cynical depression and heal as a person. He has a lot of very obvious depth that I think a lot of people want to see explored, and whose exploration would be very on-brand for the themes of a typical killing game story. Plus, if Teruko ever does stop being the protagonist, David probably needs to be alive at that point to pick up the slack.

Ace: Similar to Nico, it seems like we’ve already gotten a taste of what Ace being a victim would be like, in a way where I don’t think we’re going to see it again. He could still be a killer, but would the cowardly Ace even want to attempt killing someone and throwing himself into the scrutiny of a Class Trial? Well, it is true that Ace believes that “[neither] dying young or living a long, shitty life of suffering… are as bad as this” (the killing game?). So, he could simply grow fed up with the killing game and decide that risking a Class Trial is worth it, even if he does wind up dying young. However, if that were to occur, Chapter 2 seems like the narratively best time to do it, as it’s when his emotions are most potent and probably when others would least expect him to do it due to his weakened state. Like Rose, I feel the period Ace has most to worry about is this upcoming Chapter 2 killer slot, but if he makes it through, his arc of learning to escape his fear by bravely rising above it instead of lashing out to try to knock everyone down feels very viable.

Whit: The pro of the Inevitable CharWhit Doom Scenario is that, hopefully, one of the two would manage to make it as a survivor after the other one dies. And, I’m Team Whit Surviving! Not just based on which of the two I like better (they’re my first and second favorite characters, so I’m taking a massive L either way), but because I think it makes more sense for it to be Whit that lives further on. Unlike Charles, who feels like he’s already in the final lap of the character arc race, Whit has barely left the starting line. The laundry scene in Chapter 1 and Whit’s secret in Chapter 2 have both been used to establish that Whit focuses on his and others’ bliss in hopes of remaining ignorant of everything that stresses him. The main offender, of course, being that Whit lies about his mom being alive to presumably stave off his grief. The easiest way to give him a character arc that resolves that issue is to give him something to grieve– namely, Charles– and soon. If Whit’s main character struggle is pretending that people dying doesn’t bother him, he might need an entire Chapter or more to stubbornly show off his central flaw. Now, it is possible that, if Whit can’t overcome this flaw, he could die soon after Charles and meet a tragic fate. But, those just… aren’t the vibes, to me? A post-character arc Whit who knows how to grieve fiercely but healthily might come in handy if Teruko finds herself handling her own emotions about Xander, Min, and/or anyone else at the end of the game.

And here’s the bottom of the death order section!

Finally finished writing something that nobody asked of me at all. Well, I still think it was important, and I hope you feel the same.

Now that we’ve laid all that out, I think it’s finally time to actually see who I think the Danganronpa: Despair Time mastermind might be! Although, please keep in mind that, despite the large preamble full of story predictions, I’m still pretty uncertain on who I think the mastermind is. So, my points might not be the best supported, and I might change my mind again pretty soon after I post this theory. I expect to be far better at disproving why everyone is the mastermind rather than proving why anyone would be, because that’s generally how I feel… but, onwards we go!

#17: Arei Nageishi

(Forgive me for reusing art here, I’ve drawn these bastards ENOUGH /j)

If I were writing this after Despair Time’s prologue, like I did with P:EG, there’s a pretty good chance that Arei, at the very least, wouldn’t have placed dead last. But, well, now Arei is dead. And also last.

Obviously, there are other dead characters too. But still, Arei is the one who I most struggle to see as the mastermind. Given that Arei died as a victim whose body was thoroughly investigated by several parties, it’s pretty hard for me to believe that anyone could have missed any signs of life. I don’t get the sense that DRDT is in some kind of simulation where everyone can magically be alive again at the end either, so I think Arei is, sadly, well and truly dead.

On top of all that, we know a lot about her backstory from her Chapter 2 breakdown, and none of it seems to point her towards masterminding a killing game specifically. She doesn’t have any particular ties to any big organizations that would have helped her accomplish it, either. While she is NOT just a temporary weather spell whose absence will be celebrated and then forgotten, David… I have a hard time believing that the audience would find her character relevant enough(?) to be a good twist mastermind come Chapter 6 several years down the line.

I don’t think I really need to keep elaborating on this. Arei isn’t the mastermind.

#16: Charles Cuevas

I know it’s a bit of a bold move to put a character who’s currently alive below characters who have already died, but… man, I really just don’t see how Charles could pull this off.

And it’s not (just) because I think he’s going to die in Chapter 3 as part of Whit’s character arc, or that I want to believe that he’s a good person. Really, it’s mostly because of his phobias. How is a guy who started gagging at the sight of blood splattered on the floor supposed to be the one who orchestrated an entire death game? Could he get through the process of creating a brutal execution like Min’s without freezing up and freaking out? Even if he could do it, why would he? Sure, he didn’t seem to remember the fact that he had necrophobia until Xander died, but that might be even more of a problem. Wouldn’t the mastermind, who’s certainly had to consider the others’ deaths before, remember that they were afraid of death? He would almost certainly have to be lying about at least the scale of his reaction, although that’s probably a given if he is the mastermind.

Of course, there are mastermind subcategories that could better benefit Charles. If DRDT is actually a simulation, especially one in which the participants don’t actually die, that would definitely make it easier for him to be the one behind it. We’re also meant to believe that Charles has childhood amnesia, so he could have amnesia in other areas as well and be a mastermind who forgot they were one.

However, as I said before, I don’t particularly believe that DRDT is going to be a computer simulation or that Charles is an amnesiac mastermind. I just… don’t see this one in general.

#15: Xander Matthews

Let me preface this by saying that I’m not trying to argue that Xander is actually still alive. The concept that he would be able to fool not only Min, making her believe that she dealt him a fatal blow, but also everyone else as they identified his body, seems outlandish to me. However, just because Xander is dead doesn’t mean that he couldn’t have entered this game as the mastermind.

We know for a fact that Xander wanted to kill Teruko due to his dialogue regarding the note he received, which lines up well with the popular theory that Xander is the individual speaking in the first scene with the papers and the blood. If we assume he is that guy, then it may seem a little counterintuitive to think that the person who says “I have to end the killing game” would be the one behind the killing game. However, he also says, “Even if I can’t do that… I have to kill Teruko Tawaki,” implying that killing Teruko is of a higher priority than ending “the killing game.” Thus, if, for some reason, Xander thought that orchestrating the killing game was the only way to kill Teruko, it’s possible that he would be willing to let the death game roll for as long as it takes to eliminate his bigger target.

However, I can’t deny that the Xander mastermind theory has some massive flaws to it. For one, Xander is dead. I don’t think we’ve technically seen any evidence that the mastermind has to still be alive as of Chapter 2, but a mastermind-less Chapter 6 would be… an interesting challenge to write, to say the least. Also, while Xander betraying Teruko and the others was a great surprising hook the first time, if it happened again, it would be kind of… underwhelming, in my opinion. It’s the same kind of concept I brought up in my Eden’s Garden ranking:

Then, in Chapter 6, we’d be faced with the revelation that, wow, the mildly antagonistic character was actually a really antagonistic character all along! It just doesn’t seem like enough of a dramatic hook to me, I guess?

“Wow, the guy who betrayed Teruko and became a killer actually betrayed Teruko and was the mastermind all along! And now, he’s not even around to reap the social or karmic consequences of it!” You see.

And then, there is the literal interpretation of the text that Xander (if he is bloody hands man) obviously stands against the killing games. He’s also the Ultimate Rebel, someone who stands against corrupt institutions in general.

If Xander is revealed to be evil later down the line, it would make much more sense if it was as a traitor type. As for being the one and only mastermind, I think the odds are pretty low.

#14: Ace Markey

Hey, it’s another character that’s alive! And, this one doesn’t even have a crippling fear of death. However, he is a massive coward, and that’s the main thing that’s dragging him down for me.

Similar to Charles, what would Ace stand to gain from hosting a killing game such as this? Ace doesn’t seem to have any interest in notoriety, money, the destruction of society, despair, or any other things that I can think of that would motivate a typical mastermind. We’ve seen time and time again that Ace cares most about having control over both his life and how other people see him, even though he often fails on both fronts. I guess both of those things could be solved by hosting a killing game, but… Come on, there have gotta be easier ways to do that which don’t threaten your precious life.

Furthermore, what exactly would Ace being the mastermind have to say about the story as a whole? Jockey has to be in the running for “talents that are least relevant to a potential killing game host.” How about the idea that the mastermind nearly died in Chapter 2, only to go off the rails threatening and blaming his assailant? I… always knew that Nico was… fully in the right for doing that, because it would have killed the big bad early??? Ace Mastermind is the preferred ending for those who believe that Nico can do absolutely no wrong, lol.

I can’t remember where I saw it, but I once saw a theory of writing that said that there are two major kinds of character arcs. One is the typical character arc, where the narrative pushes a character's traits to change over the course of the story for better of for worse. The other, this theory posited, was an arc on the part of the viewer, where they learn that a character that they thought was flawed was actually not as flawed as they thought all along. You could potentially apply this kind of thing to Eden: in the first chapter, some people may have seen her as a dim-witted positive girl, but in Chapter 2, we firmly establish that her kindness is not stupidity and learn how her optimism is a strength.

So, you could say that the character arc DRDTdev is going for with Ace is something more like that, where we spend the entire game learning to treat him more seriously just in time for him to be a real threat as the mastermind? It still feels like a bit of a stretch, though– I don’t know exactly what Ace would do to make us take him more seriously that wouldn’t either send him on a growth arc not super befitting of a mastermind or wind up with him being a blackened. Ace as the mastermind certainly isn’t impossible, but I obviously found it unlikely enough that I placed him below one character who is currently (presumed) dead.

#13: Arturo Giles

Arturo’s role in the story so far is not very mastermind-ish, in my mind. In the prologue, we establish him as a cold and judgmental person who puts his own opinions of how the world works over everything else, especially how other people feel. This already feels like how a mastermind would act, so if he turned out to be the mastermind, it would be more of the same.

Then, in Chapter 2, we establish that he’s a massive simp for celebrities, to the point of transforming into something adjacent to comedic relief. We’re meant to think that his over-the-top sprites and refusal to actually listen to anything J is saying is hilariously pathetic. Other characters are constantly dunking on him, such as Teruko calling him a “bigoted” “crazy person,” and even the narrative gets in on the action when highlighting how he cares less about the fact that J’s life was at risk than that she didn’t come out of it with drip. Narratively, we’ve already seen these characters get the better of Arturo. If we the audience interpret that as confirmation that the surviving cast could easily beat Arturo should he ever come to stand in their way, it could diminish the stakes upon his mastermind reveal.

However, for all of his negatives, there are some definite positives to Arturo being the mastermind, too. Despite his comedic effects, we have seen through his threats to Eden that Arturo is very capable of being very scary in a way that I don’t think we have with Ace. The horror factor of a plastic surgeon as the mastermind could be a really fun and creepy design theme to explore. And, Arturo is obviously super obsessed with celebrities. If hosting a deadly TV show is what he thought it would take to get him in with the Hollywood celebrity scene, he might be willing to go for it.

I don’t really know why he would have made his secret what it is if he was going to get that upset about it, though. I guess if there just weren’t any better options that wouldn’t tip his hand…? Also, Arturo would blend in terribly as a survivor. If you’re heading into Chapter 6 and you have to pick the evil character out of (let me spin a wheel real quick...) Teruko, Eden, Rose, Charles, and Arturo, Arturo is definitely the evil one. (Okay, that was actually a terrible randomized draw for Arturo on the innocence front, but I hope you can imagine how he would oddly stick out of most groups.) Like I said in his death predictions, I find it hard to imagine a character arc for Arturo, which is why I find it hard to believe that he would make it as far as Chapter 6.

#12: Min Jeung

Honestly, if Min weren’t (most likely) dead, she might be pretty high on my list of mastermind choices. While not as suspicious as the Spurlings, XF-Ture Tech is pretty suspicious, even more so with the introduction of that one altDRDT character. Min is related to XF-Ture Tech, so if that company has anything to do with the operation of the killing game, she could have been the one behind it. Min is also very smart, and her talent has obvious applications for how it could have been used to set up/influence the killing game. The fact that her talent is so similar to Teruko’s, Ultimate Student versus Ultimate Lucky Student, could have also set them up for some great parallels and duality down the line.

However… Min’s role as the Chapter 1 killer throws a pretty big wrench in her chances. Beyond the dying part, Min’s role as the blackened was incredibly evitable. It’s not like she was thrown into a situation where she had to kill or be killed, or even one where a motive was particularly difficult for her. If she wanted to be the mastermind and survive until the end, all she had to do was walk away from Xander stabbing Teruko and pretend she never saw it. However, if Min’s goal was the inverse of ol’ Bloody Hands (keep the killing game running, but most importantly, keep Teruko alive), her actions could line up. And then, perhaps Min could have falsified her own execution early to draw suspicion off of her, much like Junko did by killing Mukuro.

Beyond her death, though, it’s really Min’s reaction to being the blackened that makes me think she can’t be the mastermind. The stellar voice acting in Min’s breakdown scenes makes me really believe both that this was the first time she had ever hurt anyone as gravely as she did to Xander, and that she fully believed that she was about to die. Those are two things that a mastermind, especially one headed into a fake execution, would not be feeling. Maybe Min memorized how to be a great actress too amongst all those textbooks, but I doubt it. I can still see several reasons why Min would have been a good mastermind, but her actual death and her reaction to being told she was dying knock her down several pegs in my mind.

#11: Hu Jing

Hu is a bit more suspicious to me than some others just because I think she has something to hide. Between her refusal to share whose secret she received or had herself, mysterious “I want to pay for what I’ve done” hidden quote, and intense desire to be relied upon, there’s definitely something about Hu as a person that the narrative has yet to uncover. Could that something be “Hu is the mastermind”? I dunno, maybe.

Hu also has a tendency to react to things with her temper. That could be a sort of foreshadowing to how she would act as the mastermind, much like how David’s brief spell of apathy during the prologue hinted at the way he would act further down the line. Hu’s defense of Nico could act much the same way. Our overall impression of Hu at this point is that, while she is a flawed person, she’s one of the nicest and morally best people in the game, who’s always looking out for others. Defending Nico to the point of babying them might cross the line a little, but she’s only trying to help everyone…! Hu could make it to the end as a believably heroic survivor and then reveal that all of her presumed poor decisions were actually active malice, and I think she could pull that off.

All that being said… I don’t, like, actually think that’s going to happen. In fact, I’m probably overexaggerating the extent to which people think that Hu is nice and morally good. I’ve seen several people discuss the unjust amounts of hate Hu gets in this fandom, which implies that a lot of people hate her, even if I haven’t particularly seen much of it myself. At the very least, I definitely over exaggerated the extent to which people believe Hu could survive! As implied in the death order predictions, I do personally think Hu is going to die, possibly as a consequence of getting too invested in everyone else’s business when they don’t want her to be and/or wearing herself too thin. There are paths which I believe could lead to Hu being the mastermind, but they seem to be the roads less likely traveled.

#10: David Chiem

While I have no doubts that David has the fame, charisma, and worldview to pull off a killing game… I’d have to wonder about how he would see himself playing into all of it. As we saw in Chapter 2, David knows that his career has a lot of value, possibly to himself but definitely to other people, and therefore, he doesn’t want to jeopardize it. In fact, the reveal of his manipulative secret was the inciting incident behind his massive change in characterization. So, if he were the mastermind of a televised killing game… How would he think that would play out to his viewers?

Now, to be fair, there’s a lot we don’t know about the worldbuilding of DRDT. MonoTV claims that the TV show will be broadcast to a widespread audience. Perhaps that indicates that, in the world of DRDT, publicly broadcasting talented young peoples’ violent deaths is normal, or even sought after. Maybe the cast of DRDT forgot about it.

However, David seems to think that people learning that he sees everyone as manipulable would do damage to his reputation, so it’s a bit of a contradiction either way. If the world has been wracked with despair and craves intense violence on TV, then David’s reaction to his secret is either an elaborate lie or the result of the mastermind erasing his own memories regarding the situation. (Or, I guess the public could see death as fine and dandy but manipulation as a cancellable offense, which is… one of the interpretations ever.) Otherwise, in the scenario that the DRDT world is a normal one, David wouldn’t care about being revealed as a manipulator if he’d already committed to the mastermind bit. If his career was already preemptively ruined by agreeing to commit literal murder, why get so worked up about the thought that people might abandon ship over you not being 100% honest?

And then, there’s also the whole “surprise factor” thing that I keep bringing up. Admittedly, it’s been a longer hiatus between the start of Chapter 2 and the end of Chapter 2 than DRDTdev might have been hoping for, but that doesn’t change the fact that this part of David’s characterization happened in Chapter 2. DRDT fans far and wide have written thousands of words gushing over “the David reveal” or “evil David.” If David were unveiled as the mastermind, we’d have to start writing stuff about “the first David reveal” or “when David showed his true colors again.” You see how it kind of takes the hype away from such major plot points? That’s the sort of concept I’ve been trying to get across with some of my other choices too, but a bit more clear cut.

I don’t know why I sound so much like a hater in this section (in my opinion) when I’m literally putting David at #10, above seven other characters. I guess it’s because I can see why his theatricality and traits foiling Teruko could make him a good mastermind, but also have some major issues with the logistics of him getting there. A lot of good points versus a lot of bad points settle out to him winding up someone in the middle.

#9: Levi Fontana

With our first single digit number, we’ve also reached our midway point of mastermind candidates: Levi!

Levi would be a really interesting mastermind choice because of how his character centers around grappling with his morality. I think it would be really intriguing to have a mastermind outwardly struggling with their attempts and failures to be a good person throughout the entire game, only for the player and the characters to receive the full context of the debacle at the very end. I guess in this situation, it would be pretty likely that Levi would be redeemed at the end? That’s not necessarily a problem. (Honestly, I don’t know if I think the DRDT mastermind could be redeemed or not based on the fangan’s themes… that’s a post for another day, perhaps.)

Anyways, I think that what we know of Levi’s backstory could work well with him being the mastermind. If he does have the “murderer without remorse” secret, that would be in line with orchestrating a killing game. We also know that he’s “been disowned” and that he and his family were “all bad influences on each other.” We’re meant to assume that Levi was fortunate enough to escape a bad/abusive situation (and in all likelihood this IS what actually happened!!!!), but we are hearing about the situation from his point of view alone. There is a small possibility that, if Levi is actually a despair enjoyer, his family cut him out because they thought he was a danger to their lives.

I will reiterate again, though, that I don’t think this is the case. Levi seems like he’s a chill guy, or at least that he’s trying very hard to be one despite how he’s been told to react all his life. The whole “mastermind wanting to become a good person” lens also makes less sense given how channeled Levi’s development is through Ace. Like, I would imagine that, if this were the angle DRDTdev was going for, Levi would be making an effort to get along with everyone as part of his atonement. The mastermind randomly choosing to focus on just one person out of the crowd seems kind of strange, especially when that person is someone as disagreeable as Ace. That kind of plot would have big “the mafia CEO vampire prince fell head over heels in love with me, the random average girl” vibes. Repenting mastermind Levi is the preferred ending for pining lovers to enemies to lovers AceVi shippers, lol.

And then there’s the part where I think he’s going to die. I don’t think Levi is the worst mastermind choice, but I think there are better out there.

#8: Nico Hakobyan

Yay, we finally got to one of the characters that Anon thought was suspicious! It only took… 7k+ words. Oh boy.

I definitely think that the cat coding is the strongest thing that Nico has going for them. It would be pretty funny if the extent to which “Ultimate Pet Therapist” is relevant to the plot is the climactic reveal that “yeah Nico has been talking to a (robotic) animal the whole time.” That’s a joke, as Ultimate Pet Therapist is already quite relevant to Nico’s characterization as someone who prefers communicating with animals over people, but it would be funny as hell from a character designing perspective.

There are less silly reasons to believe that Nico is the mastermind too, though. While it seems like, similar to David, pulling the trigger on Nico’s change in behavior in Chapter 2 would be a bit early, I don’t think it’s as destructive to mastermind Nico as it is to mastermind David. There’s a lot more doubt in people’s minds that Nico even did anything to Ace, to the extent that a decent number of people (in the story and out of it) think that it was someone else trying to kill Ace entirely. Nico also has a stalwart defender in Hu, which adds an extra level of intrigue to the situation. Instead of confirming that everyone was right to be suspicious of David, at least some amount of focus could be placed onto Hu being wrong for trusting Nico and failing to see someone’s true colors again, which could be interesting for her characterization if she was alive at that point.

On the other hand, the biggest reason that I think Nico isn’t the mastermind is also because of the attempted Ace murder. Why would Nico, as the mastermind, try to kill Ace at this time? If Nico wins the Class Trial, then the killing game is over, which is probably counter to the mastermind’s goals. If Nico loses the Class Trial, well, we’ll say that the possibility of Nico dying isn’t an issue, as they could just fake their own death or deny entering the execution. But still, why?

It could be that Nico was trying to remove themselves from the killing game on purpose, but I don’t see why it would be necessary. No one was particularly suspicious of Nico being the mastermind, and if they were worried about their gender identity getting out, they could have simply made their secret something else. A mastermind could kill to avoid the killing game falling into a standstill, but tensions were really high at the time that Ace almost died! With a full day left to go before the motive secrets were revealed, such drastic action wasn’t yet forced. I guess the best option would be that Nico was just really angered by what Ace said, and wanted to retaliate as part of their vicious mastermind nature. Is that worth taking yourself out of the killing game and risking the show’s termination, though…?

There is also the possibility that Nico is the mastermind, but didn’t try to kill Ace. In that case, suspicion of Nico would be such a huge in-universe coincidence that I’m doubtful DRDTdev would have included it as a major plot point.

Speaking of “show’s termination,” I also don’t know why Nico would have any involvement in creating a TV show, both from a backstory/talent perspective and a personality one. Nico doesn’t like interacting with people. Therefore, I don’t know what would possess them to want to create and join a TV show for which the major draw is a big stressful discussion between a bunch of people.

I guess I had fewer reasons why I thought Nico would be the mastermind than I thought. I would love to hear more details about why you suspect Nico though, Anon! I’m definitely willing to believe that they could be the mastermind.

#7: Eden Tobisa

Make no mistake, I still think that Eden is the Chapter 2 killer. However, in the case that she isn’t… mastermind isn’t a terrible choice for her.

The biggest draw of Eden being the mastermind would definitely be the shock value. The seemingly nicest character suddenly being revealed as the mastermind would create a huge hurdle for the surviving characters to overcome. Teruko especially, given that she probably would have grown at least a tad closer to Eden if they survived five chapters together. It would be a little mean to give Teruko a trustworthy friend just to rip it away from her again, but I could see the opportunity being used to highlight Teruko’s growth. When Xander and Min betrayed Teruko, she panicked and shut everyone out, but when Eden betrays Teruko at the very end, she’s able to remain strong and rely on the other friends who she continues to trust. Or DRDT could have an unconventional feel-bad ending, I suppose.

If some kind of time loop is at play within DRDT, then Eden’s talent would obviously be thematically and perhaps practically relevant as well. I could see a lot of comparisons being made regarding a killing game being run “like clockwork.” Her secret quote “you can’t go back, no matter how hard you try” is... actually kind of anti-time loop, but at least the concept of going back in time is somewhat related…? Speaking of secret quotes, her Mai quote, “she kept calling the number, even though no one picked it up” is also really weird. That suspicious hidden evidence could point to her being the mastermind.

However, Eden’s personality is a pretty major issue when it comes to her being the mastermind. Shock value is great in the moment, but it can ring hollow in retrospect if people find that the twist doesn’t make any sense. Masterminds aren’t typically known for their kindness or optimism. So, if Eden is the mastermind, it seems like her whole “even if this world is cruel, I’ll still make the choice to be kind” speech is a complete lie. And, that would be a shame! I don’t think that having an unexpected mastermind at the end of the game is worth the cost of completely demolishing a character that we’ve come to know and love over the course of six chapters and several years. (I’m not saying that complete demolition has to be the case if Eden is the mastermind, but I think it’s a reasonable worry that many people have.)

And, I know that all this talk about how wonderful Eden is might sound rich coming from someone who strongly believes that she just killed someone who wanted to be her best friend. But, that’s kind of the point, isn’t it? As someone who thinks that Eden is the killer, I know very well how a lot of people have a really hard time believing that Eden could do something as terrible as killing Arei. I can only imagine how hard it would be to accept that Eden was the one who put Arei, Min, Teruko, and everyone else in danger, and the one pulling the strings behind every execution.

Eden as the mastermind, to me, is more tempting in concept than it would be viable in execution. And also, I don’t even think she’s going to live to see the light of Chapter 3 day. However, there’s also some definite emotional power behind the accusation that makes me see how shooting for this ambitious choice could be worth it in the long run.

#6: Whit Young

Alright, it’s finally time to talk about Whit. I know that he’s a really popular mastermind choice, but… I just don’t see it, personally. Even though I put him at 6th place. (I do not enjoy putting him in 6th place.) Is that just because he’s my favorite and I’m attached to my interpretation of the character? Perhaps. But, I’d still like to explore some points that I find faulty.

Perhaps the biggest reason behind suspicion of Whit that I’ve seen is the way that he breaks the fourth wall. People connect his asking people to pause for the evidence list to MonoTV invoking similar mechanics, and lines such as “do you really think she’d be hanging out in the playground” to him knowing more than he’s letting on. However, there are a couple of ways that this accusation can be depowered, in my opinion.

Firstly, Whit isn’t the only person who says stuff like this. Veronika alludes to the killing game before it begins, Teruko also breaks the fourth wall to tell the viewer to pause (albeit only in her thoughts, not out loud), and Arei makes the same kind of “hanging” wordplay in Eden’s flashback that Whit did. I won’t say that characters addressing the fourth wall can’t be important at all, because I believe there are some moments where the other characters commentate on how weird it is that MonoTV is talking to no one. However, I also think that breaking the fourth wall may simply be part of DRDTdev’s humor, as exemplified by that “make sure to like and subscribe so that Teruko has enough mental strength to carry on” joke. Whit is a funny guy, so it just makes sense that if DRDTdev’s brain generates funny meta jokes, Whit would get some of them. Everything that Whit says reminds me more of Mia AceAttorney saying “hit tab to open the Court Record” than some sort of groundbreaking DDLC-Undertale direct communication with the viewer. However, I can see why others would think otherwise.

The second is that I think some of Whit’s comments (more so the “dead at 3” and “hanging in the playground” than the pause) are just meant to showcase his intuition. And, yeah, it could be that DRDTdev has been leaving crumbs of Whit’s intuition behind so that in Chapter 6, he can use it to exploit everyone’s insecurities and greatest despair. To me, though, Whit’s intuition has always reminded me of the myth of Cassandra.

For those who don’t know, Cassandra is a figure in Greek mythology who was blessed/cursed to receive prophecies, but for no one to ever believe them. By my interpretation, Whit is a really smart and perceptive guy who has strikingly accurate gut feelings about how things will play out down the road, even when he doesn’t realize it himself. However, the curse of his own coping mechanism– choosing to act like an eternally cheerful goofball– leads the majority of the other students, and perhaps some of the viewers, to never take his point of view seriously. He can only realize the accuracy behind what he said after the bad things have already happened, leading him to blame himself more and more for not being able to speak up and help when times were tough.

This kind of behavior would line up with two different themes we’ve seen from Whit before. The first, that when he jokes around without thinking, he can accidentally say hurtful things that he later reprimands himself for. We saw that when Charles blew up at him at the end of their shared FTE. The second is Whit’s major theme of good things hiding a darker undercurrent. Being the Ultimate Matchmaker is great until you’ve never had a successful relationship yourself. Having an awesome mom is great until the truth comes out that she’s actually dead, and you’ve been covering it up. Growing super close to someone is great until he dies. Having an amazing intuition and understanding of everyone is great until you can never actually use it to help those you care about. Joking around is great until it's all you can do. Pretending everything is fine is great until it’s not.

Like I said, very specific interpretation. I promise I was not citing classical literature to make my argument sound smarter than it actually is. I am aware that my interpretation of Whit is no less or more valid than everyone else’s. However, it’s one that I hold very close to my heart, and thus, I personally have a hard time seeing around it.

However, I’ve also seen a lot of people argue some valid points for Whit, so I can at least acknowledge that he deserves to be in the upper echelon of choices. There’s a lot of weird stuff regarding him in Literature Girl Insane, and he’s certainly an option of someone who felt so much grief that they became totally empty inside as shown in that one hidden quote. I would be appropriately surprised and heartbroken if Whit revealed himself as the mastermind in Chapter 6, so he checks the box in that regard. There isn’t anything from his backstory that opposes the notion that he set up the killing game, and, to quote what I said about our other Ultimate Matchmaker, Toshiko…

While Ultimate Matchmaker might seem like a silly talent to give the mastermind, it could also be a ruse to distract us from the fact that [Whit] has a talent that allows [him] to read people well and make choices that will impact their lives dramatically.

I don’t like it, but I can see the argument… kind of. To me, most mastermind Whit interpretations feel like mischaracterization, but as a theorist, I always try to keep in mind that I’m the one who could be twisting the text to my whims as well. In this my-opinions-based list, though, he’s not getting any higher than 6th.

#5: Veronika Grebenshchikova

Ooh, what spooky art for a spooky mastermind. Let’s be real, though, Veronika is way too obvious of a mastermind candidate to actually be the mastermind. Unless… she’s so obvious that she loops back around to not being obvious, and thus, is the perfect mastermind candidate?!

Veronika is in a really weird place. I obviously have no doubts that she would have any moral qualms about hosting a killing game, because she’s told us herself that she doesn’t. She knows what Monokuma is in immense detail, but claims to have no idea what a killing game is. She’s dressed really similarly to Junko, though. Is that just a coincidence? Are giant pigtails also a symbol of fear in the DRDTverse? I need ANSWERS, LADY!!!

The biggest problem I see with Veronika is the potential for obviousness. Similar to Arturo, if she actually made it to Chapter 6, I feel like it would be pretty obvious what’s going on. An oddball like Veronika is not the typical survivor type (although she could break the mold). Because Teruko’s character arc is all about trusting people, it would make sense if the reveal of the mastermind was someone who challenged her trust to some degree. With Veronika being obviously unhinged the whole time, I don’t think that Teruko would have any particular difficulties with kicking her to the curb.

However, Veronika clearly has the motive to start a killing game, and potentially to spread despair. DRDT has taken inspiration from Trigger Happy Havoc in the past, so it could make sense if DRDT’s mastermind was also inspired by THH’s. Having a so-obvious-it’s-not-obvious mastermind could also be another way to mess with theorists like me, as DRDTdev did with the comments section portion of Literature Girl Insane. “bro Veronika being the mastermind would be WAY too obvious” sounds EXACTLY like “I just hope XXXXXX doesn’t go crazy and kill in chapter 3. That would be way too predictable” or “XXXXX will obviously die in ch5”. If part of the point of DRDT is to make know-it-all analysts rethink the rules they believe to be set in stone, I could see Veronika as a subversive choice.

Veronika definitely seems to be building up to something, but I don’t know if being the mastermind is exactly it. I think that Veronika could make it pretty late into the game, but I still struggle to see her making it all the way to Chapter 6. I would absolutely love to see what DRDTdev does with her writing if that is the case, though.

#4: Mai Akasaki

(Well, now I feel bad that I’ve never made a colored portrait of Mai.)

As you may have noticed back at our first entry, Arei, I started the countdown off at seventeen, not sixteen. (If you didn’t remember that, I don’t blame you– it was a WHILE ago.) That’s because I thought it was only fair to include DRDT’s best kept(?) secret, the lovely Unnamed Student herself, Mai Akasaki, as an option! Because, man, is she mysterious in some suspicious ways.

“But, didn’t MonoTV tell the students that the mastermind was one of them? Mai isn’t one of the students in the killing game (unless prosopagnosia is REALLY going crazy), so she can’t be the mastermind, right?” Well, yes and no. The scene where MonoTV confirms the existence of the mastermind is SUPER weird. Let’s take a look at it.

On one hand, MonoTV is still in the Movie Screening Room, where it was JUST talking to the student body, so it would only stand to reason that it’s a continuation of the scene we just saw. However, the setting also seems to be doing everything in its power to tell us that this is NOT the same scene we just saw. The lights have been turned off, even though they were on in the scene just before this. They return to being on in the first scene of Chapter 1, which the students treat as being directly after the scene during which the lights were on before. The widget denoting the time, chapter, and episode has completely disappeared, placing this at an even more unknown time than “Time Unknown.” The text indicating that the speaker is MonoTV has even disappeared! I mean, I assume that MonoTV is still the one saying it, considering that it’s on screen and the speech bubble is pointing right at it, but we don’t even know that for sure!

Additionally, MonoTV refers to the viewers directly (“dear viewers”) two speech bubbles after this one, which makes it seem more like MonoTV is talking to us the audience rather than the students in the room. But then, if the mastermind is “one of you,” and MonoTV is talking to us, wouldn’t that mean the mastermind is someone in the audience? That could lead in to some really meta interpretations of the text (i.e. “DRDTdev is the mastermind of DRDT because he’s the one who created the killing game”) or it could indicate that I’ve gone fully off the rails.

A midpoint between those two ideas is that the mastermind is part of the in-universe audience watching the killing game, as in, a fictional character who is watching the real-to-them TV show that is Danganronpa: Despair Time. That could include Mai, a very notable character who is not one of the sixteen participants in the killing game.

Side note, I’ve seen some people fight back against the concept that Mai could be the mastermind with the idea that making the mysterious character the mastermind would be too obvious. While I sort of agree, I feel like we’re somewhat overestimating the extent to which Mai is obvious. It’s not like no casual viewers would know who she is, because her image was shown pretty obviously in Chapter 1. However, the name “Mai Akasaki” is only accessible by finding the hidden quotes on the optional associated website’s character profiles. To learn anything about her beyond that, you have to have the thought to type the name into the website URL, and then solve another puzzle just to see the bare bones of what’s there.

I’m not trying to assert any sort of dominance or superiority over DRDT fans on YouTube, Twitter, TikTok, or anything else, but from what I’ve gathered, Tumblr is the place you want to go for deep analysis and theories on DRDT (possibly because of Tumblr’s longer word count). Therefore, anything about DRDT that may seem like common knowledge on Tumblr may only be common knowledge to the fans who specifically bothered to come to the deep lore and crack theories website to find deep lore and crack theories. Essentially, this:

Sort of similar to what Gravity Falls did with the reveal of Bill Cipher back in 2012 (at least I think, I wasn’t actually in the Gravity Falls fandom at that time), I think it would be reasonable to plant clues about an overarching villain that people who want to analyze can analyze ahead of time, such that the villain’s arrival can come as a victory to the puzzle solvers and an exciting new development to the more casual viewers.

However, while I believe that Mai has an awesome setup that she could use to become the mastermind, whether she would actually fit the role is another question entirely. As I alluded to back in the first Mai paragraph, I’m rolling with the widely held (among theorizers) belief that the Unnamed Student in Xander and Min’s bonus episodes is supposed to be Mai. In those episodes, Mai seems to be incredibly caring, peppy, and sweet. She knows a ton of little heartwarming details about Min and Xander, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the same is shown to be true with Arei and whoever else’s bonus episodes in the future. Those hidden quotes on Mai’s profile also give off the impression that everyone in the cast really loves Mai– one could call them a “portrait of a person dearly loved,” perhaps.

While it’s possible that these scenes are supposed to highlight Mai’s social prowess and how much she can get people to fall in love with her, they… don’t really seem to be giving off those vibes. We see her thoughts in those bonus videos, and she really does seem to be dedicated to helping Min and Xander out. Mai’s change from someone who wanted nothing more than to help out her friends to someone who was willing to throw all of them into the killing game is something that would have to be explained, and it could be difficult to communicate that shift within the confines of bonus material, if Mai’s content is mostly kept there. There is the concept that Mai could have put her friends into a killing game to protect them somehow, which could be a way to avoid Mai’s character seemingly doing a total 180, but that rationale would need a lot of explanation too.

Otherwise, there’s also the problem that Mai is almost certainly dead. I won’t get super into it myself, because the amazing @1moreff-creator has already done a great job explaining why here (starts in the XI. God is Dead section). I don’t think I need to elaborate on why Mai being dead potentially before the killing game even began would be detrimental to the idea of her being the mastermind.

To be honest, I don’t know how much this idea actually makes sense. I think I’m personally more inclined to believe that Mai could be the mastermind just because I really don’t get mastermind vibes from pretty much anybody in the cast. If the mastermind simply wasn’t one of the members of the main cast, that could solve that issue, right…? Mai is very likely involved in the inception of the killing game somehow, so extending that role to one of being the mastermind isn’t the biggest stretch. However, her personality and living status do throw in some pretty big question marks, so I don’t think she should go any higher.

#3: Teruko Tawaki

Teruko was definitely the first character who I believed could be the mastermind after I watched the series for the first time. However, over time, I’ve sort of fallen off of the idea that she would be. Is that because I’m forgetting key details of the plot, or because I’m drifting closer to the truth…? Honestly, I have no idea.

Let’s start with the strongest “evidence” we have against Teruko, her motive secret: “How could I even select which secret to make your motive? Just about everything you’ve done in your life is worth killing for. The killing game is all your fault.” Although “the killing game [being] all [Teruko’s] fault” sounds pretty damning, there’s the obvious counterargument to be made that this isn’t even Teruko’s motive. In fact, the board currently shows it assigned to Xander. However, the majority of people (including myself) seem to believe that David was lying, and this secret is Teruko’s. So, let’s analyze under that assumption.

Teruko did admit to Veronika that she doesn’t know what secret could be used as her motive because there were so many. Even if that motive secret isn’t hers, that still means that Teruko has done a lot of shady stuff. Teruko’s decision to live on set forever could line up with the mastermind's goal of wanting to keep the cameras rolling as well. The very first scene of DRDT shows that someone who wants the killing game to end also wants Teruko dead, which implies that Teruko and the killing games are on the same side.

Teruko also has a prior history of concealing things about herself from us, the viewing audience. We knew basically nothing about her past or trust issues before Xander stabbed her, causing her sudden change in attitude to come as a blindside. Teruko apparently has a “risky” killing game-ending plan in mind for the end of the second Class Trial that she’s told us absolutely nothing about. And, most notably, Teruko clearly knows things about Mai that she’s decided not to share with viewers at home. (I do believe that Teruko genuinely can’t remember Mai’s name, but she does remember that Mai is similar to Xander and wanted to help, which is more than anything we would have known from the main text on our own).

Point is, DRDT is written in a way where we don’t hear a ton of Teruko’s thoughts. That would make it much easier for her to scheme something behind the scenes, as opposed to someone who we get a lot of emotional reactions or logical theorizing from. It’s actually kind of similar to the difference between Kaede and Shuichi’s styles of narration, as pointed out by ShortOneGaming in their impeccable v3 playthrough! I recommend watching their entire letsplay if you're in the mood for v3, but I found one time where they talked about this concept here. I’ll transcribe it for anyone who doesn’t want to open YouTube right now:

Gina: I do want to call– as my final sort of note– what’s interesting is that you called out immediately that Kaede’s narration was weird. That, it was always, like– dictation? Allison: Yes! Gina: It’s always, like, speaking directly to a person– Allison: Yes! Yes, I did say– It never really felt like actual internal monologue. Like, she never was expressing her thoughts or anything to us. I mean, yes, she was, but then there were those weird moments where she was, like… y’know, hiding it from the player, and… probably from herself, too, to some extent. Like, she was just like, “and then I had to go do this thing.” Um, and like, “we won’t really address how I’m feeling about this.” Gina: Yep. Allison: And at the same time, it hides it from the– the player. And that was very clever. Really good. I mean, her– yeah, her narration was always kind of weird. But, she did have moments where she had internal reflection.

Hopefully, you can see the comparison. By putting a greater emphasis on actions as opposed to what Teruko is feeling (“I kneeled down and touched his neck” after finding Ace’s presumed-dead body; “Everyone else started filtering in” when people walk into the Playground and find Arei’s corpse), it becomes much easier to have Teruko hide exactly what she knows or exactly how she feels about certain events. It’s actually the opposite of the kind of narration that Damon had (“I’m trapped in a killing game… with people who despise me. How… how did this happen? I just wanted to help… I wanted to make sure we didn’t trust each other too easily… and now I’m being treated like the bad guy” after the 0th Class Trial) that made me believe he wasn’t the mastermind!

So, do I think that Teruko would be a mastermind who remembers, or a mastermind who forgot? Well, I could kind of see it either way. Personally, I think that Teruko being a mastermind whose memories are intact is the more interesting version, and I do believe it’s possible. I also don’t understand why someone with as many trust issues as Teruko has would want to remove her own memories if it weren’t necessary. Then again, Teruko being an amnesiac mastermind could make up for some of the… issues that arise with her as a mastermind candidate.

What? She’s in third place, not first. Despite how long I’ve already talked about Teruko, there’s still more to say!

First, the problems if Teruko did retain her memories: why would she ask MonoTV about the mastermind’s identity when the two were alone? Why would she be creating a plan to end the killing game? Why would she pretend to not know who Mariabella Rosales was even though everyone else clearly knew?

And then, the problems that persist even if Teruko did lose her memories: where would Teruko have gotten the resources to plan a killing game of this caliber? Even if she had them, why would she use it on this? Assuming that secret is hers, why would she write that about herself in a plausibly public place (beyond the swapping, Arei looked over Whit’s shoulder)?

Oh yeah, back to that secret. Just because “the killing game is all [Teruko’s] fault” doesn’t mean that she’s the one who planned it. In fact, the wording sounds very accusatory and hostile for something that Teruko would have theoretically written to herself. From the first scene, we already know that there is a person or group of people somewhere who are out to get Teruko. It could make more sense if that entity is the mastermind, and wrote the secret to blame Teruko for whatever she did that got her on their bad side.

There’s probably more to be said, but hopefully you can see why I have so many mixed feelings about Teruko. I definitely think she’s one of the more likely mastermind candidates out there, but I still don’t know exactly how likely that is, y’know?

#2: Rose Lacroix

Once upon a time, a wise and powerful theory alchemist known only by the epithet @1moreff-creator postulated that Rose could be the mastermind of Despair Time, and then never elaborated on the idea at all. For centuries (a couple of weeks) the townsfolk (me) were baffled by these dark and mysterious ramblings. However, as seasons passed by, as travelers came and went, as the tide advanced to kiss the land before slinking back to its home once more– the idea… started making more and more sense?

Rose is a really smart character who has already shown her proficiency in Class Trials. In the first, she utilized her ability to perfectly capture the scene and her knowledge of chromatography. Although her talents haven’t been as useful so far in the second, she’s still managed to keep up with the conversation despite never looking at the scene of the crime. Thus, I can see why, from a writing perspective, DRDTdev would choose to make his mastermind the Ultimate Art Forger.

There’s also the angle that Rose is a criminal, and therefore could be willing to do illegal or immoral things. However, she does seem to be pretty remorseful about it, and she’s already been caught for her criminal behavior before. Unfortunately for her, her relationship with her saviors the Spurlings only makes her all the more suspicious. Even if Rose didn’t want to be the mastermind of a killing game, if the Spurlings forced her to do it, she might have not had a choice. (Xander is very against the Spurlings… Xander is bloody hands guy → stop the killing game → stop the Spurlings?)

I also like the angle of “the Spurlings forced her to do it” because of what I talked about back in Mai’s section– the concept of the mastermind not being among the students. In Rose’s case, you can get the best of both worlds. The entity behind the killing game, the Spurling Foundation, would be a group outside of the killing game for MonoTV to contact, but there would still be a student among the cast’s ranks to suspect and accuse come Chapter 6.

What’s the argument against Rose? Well, I would ask why Rose would want to put herself in this kind of situation, but if it was the Spurlings’ choice, then that explains that. You could say Rose has been too helpful to be a bad guy, but everything she’s done so far has been to help the students win a Class Trial. That keeps the killing game running, which keeps the show on. The biggest problem I’m thinking of at the moment is the notion that the Spurling Foundation would have chosen to make Rose’s secret about how her backstory led her into their clutches. However, the secret doesn’t actually acknowledge the Spurlings by name, and it also frames Rose’s crimes in a way that makes her look like a good person– the opposite of what someone would think of as a mastermind. The secret was also only intended for Rose’s eyes, so it could have functioned as more of a low-key threat to remind her why she needs to stay in line.

Shouldn’t all of this talk of Rose lacking agency make her a bad mastermind candidate, though? If a villain doesn’t even believe in their villainous motivations, the story could end on a really flat note, with the good guys steamrolling an evildoer who doesn’t really care. How are we supposed to reach a satisfying conclusion if the mastermind hardly has anything to be held accountable for?

Those are normally things I would argue, but as many have pointed out, Teruko isn’t a normal protagonist. Actually, I think that this kind of mastermind setup for Rose could be a great way to end Teruko’s arc about learning to trust other people. Rose is the mastermind, somebody who shouldn’t be trusted…! It would be so easy for Teruko to just crush this person who betrayed her into dust– Rose isn’t even putting up much of a fight. But in the end, Teruko will choose to be patient, and see that Rose never wanted to betray Teruko. Even if her actions wound up hurting Teruko and many others, she still deserves a second chance, or at least a second evaluation.

As you saw in the death predictions, I obviously believe that Rose has the potential to make a late game run, whether as a survivor or something else. Writing all of this out, I can see even more clearly why Rose just might be the DRDT mastermind. However, despite all that I wrote, the idea still feels kinda more like a fun AU than the actual truth to me…? So, I still think there’s one person whose chances I like slightly better.

#1: J Rosales

Whaddya know, J’s personal ??? tier catapulted her into the lead. It is probably true that my uncertainty about where she might land is contributing to me deeming her the mastermind– it’s a really weird space in the kill order, as someone who survives long enough to theoretically have a positive character arc while sometimes not being counted among the survivors at the end.

Part of why I put J this high is that I really like the theory of J being the mastermind along with her brother, Ryan. Sadly, I cannot find any of the original theories that postulated this idea to link to, so I’ll try my best to explain what I remember myself. Basically, some people found the scene in c1e4 where Rose doesn’t remember who J is suspicious. They combined this scene with J’s younger brother, Ryan, and J’s talent, the Ultimate Effects Artist, to suggest that J could be using her FX talents to disguise Ryan as herself and have them occasionally trade places. From this Q&A, one of the few things we know about Ryan is that he enjoys crossdressing, which furthers the idea that he could enjoy pretending to be J. Ryan is also (to my memory) the only DRDT character’s sibling whose name we have seen in the main text, which could indicate that he’s more important than Arei’s sisters, Levi’s brothers, or other potential siblings.

I think it’s a really fun idea that I would at the very least want to see come to fruition, regardless of how likely it is. If J was working with Ryan, you can once again repeat the argument that there’s both a mastermind for MonoTV to talk to outside the game and one to be accused within the game. The biggest issue with it is that I don’t know how Arturo wouldn’t see the differences between the two, even if Rose may have. Maybe if J and Ryan haven’t swapped since the Rosales secret got out, and won’t swap again until Arturo dies…? I don’t know, I’m getting ahead of myself.

The thing is, other than just being a unique and interesting concept, I’m not really sure what the point of having J and Ryan swap would be, in universe or out of it. (This is why I wish I could’ve found a link to the original theorist... :,( ) My best argument for in universe would be that there are some things that only J has the skill to do, her being the Ultimate Effects Artist while Ryan is not. However, they couldn’t just have Ryan be the one in the killing game full-time, because he’s too young and therefore wouldn’t have been part of the original Hope’s Peak class. Thus, there are some points in time where J needs to be working behind the scenes (like on the executions or something), and during those intervals, Ryan subs in. Metatextually, I guess it could show how every person in the entertainment industry can be cutthroat, or that every child of a celebrity is bound to get messed up about it somehow…?

Regardless, even if Ryan isn’t involved at all, there are plenty of reasons to suspect J on her own. Ultimate Effects Artist is a highly suspicious talent when it comes to the deception of a killing game (just check out how many people think J already used it to kill Arei), and in connecting her to Hollywood. J may claim to specialize in theater as opposed to television, but 1) she could have been lying, or 2) that could be true, but she’s making an exception this time. Even if she normally works in live theater, if you were a TV executive approached by the daughter of Mariabella Rosales who is also a Hope’s Peak Ultimate student in her own right, would you really turn her away…?

J’s custom weapon is also pretty suspicious. Even if it doesn’t seem to be able to trigger traps like the one used on Levi (though that could be another lie), I could still see it being pretty helpful for subtly operating MonoTV, turning on a monitor, starting an execution, or stuff like that. Charles essentially confirms that the custom weapons were in the students’ rooms since they all woke up, which means that J could have had this remote on her the entire time.

J’s relationships also seem potentially mastermind-y. Thus far, the two characters with which she’s been associated most are Arei and Arturo. Those two (at least, prior to Arei’s change of heart) have been so clearly villainous and hateful that J would obviously look like a nice person in comparison. Why is this helpful? It means that J can get away with doing more objectionable things without raising any huge red flags. If J is the mastermind, we can look back on her demolition of Arturo in the Chapter 2 Trial as a brief early glimpse into how cruel she can really be. But, for the moment, although it’s definitely memorable, many people (including myself) can react to it with a, “yeah, but based on what Arturo was doing to her, it’s kinda justified…” (Not saying it isn’t somewhat justified either way, just that it could also be something more.)

J could also have a range of motivations related to her hatred for her mom. Maybe she’s trying to turn people against the Rosales name to ruin Mariabella’s reputation. Maybe this killing game is a plan to finally have a big artistic success all on her own (or with Ryan) to prove her mom wrong. Maybe she thinks that a world so enamored with fame and glamor deserves to rot in a pit of despair. I don’t know which of these options would be the most likely, but I could see how any of them could be possible explanations for how J got to this point.

I think my biggest argument against J once again comes back to the “why”. I think that J has a lot of potential to be a good mastermind, but I don’t know if that carries over to being a good mastermind for Teruko. Unlike with Rose, I don’t have a good sense of how J being the mastermind would tie into a satisfying ending to Teruko’s trust arc.

@venus-is-thinking and I sometimes like to run randomized killing games as a fun writing exercise (randomize the cast, motives, and mastermind; see where it takes you), and we’ve generally found that the most compelling protagonist-mastermind duos either have the protagonist sharing the same worldview with the mastermind, or being the only person who believes the opposite.

If the protagonist starts with the same beliefs as the mastermind, then defeating the mastermind is a showcase of the protagonist’s development. Hajime and Izuru work as protagonist and mastermind because Izuru is the manifestation of Hajime’s belief that only talented people are important and can make an impact on the world. By renouncing Izuru, Hajime proves that he’s learned that anyone has the chance to change their future if they put in the effort.

If the protagonist has the opposite opinions from the mastermind, then it proves how crucial the protagonist is to the narrative because they are the only one who could deliver the critical message. A great example of this is Shuichi and Tsumugi. When Tsumugi tries to set up the conflict of “hope good, despair bad” that will keep the killing games going, all of the other surviving students fall for it. Shuichi being the only character who has spent the entire game learning the importance of balancing two extremes makes his callout of Tsumugi incredibly satisfying, and justifies the protagonist swap by proving that Shuichi is the only hero who could have saved this day.

That’s why I think that J would be a great mastermind for a protagonist who has issues with family or stardom, but might not be the best choice for a story with Teruko at the helm. Those are only my observations, though, so I’d understand if DRDTdev planned things differently.

And that is finally the end! Here’s the final tierlist I wound up working off of, which I fiddled with a TON while writing:

(It’s based off of Ocean Unknown’s tierlist!)

Since this has already gone on so long, I’ll try to keep the conclusion brief. Please take all of this with a grain of salt, as I wound up making a lot of claims about writing that don’t necessarily have the strongest foundation. I didn’t write anything that I think is blatantly false, obviously, but whether it’s good advice or not doesn’t necessarily mean that DRDTdev considered it. We may have different priorities in telling a compelling story. And, we’re less than two chapters in! Even the end of the Chapter 2 trial could throw a positive or negative wrench in any of these profiles.

Thank you so much for reading through this whole thing, and if you got through it and still have anything you want me to elaborate on further (a specific character, a specific theory, a specific aspect of fangan writing, etc), I would be happy to do so. I, uh, really hope that this answered the question that Anon asked, haha. Until next time… stay wary. There could be masterminds lurking about...!

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skzhua · 1 year ago

Text

Episode six.

MASTERLIST

pairing: XO, Kitty's Min Ho x Female Reader

genre: Fluff, angst, enemies-to-lovers, slow burn, coming-of-age.

word count: 3.1k

warnings: A lot is happening in such a short time, mentions of deceased parents, drinking, teenage behaviour, suggestive.

summary: Transferring to KISS was the last thing you had asked for and, yet, a certain tall boy made it seem both worse and better than you expected.

note: Bold - Korean, Italic - Over the phone

(let me know by filling the form in my bio if you want to be added to the taglist!)

Min Ho walked out of his room to see you sitting at the counter, enjoying your morning coffee alone. He went to go grab his mist that stood next to your mug, passing in front of you in the process which exposed you to his shirtless figure. You groaned out of disgust.

"Can't you put a shirt on?"

"Not my fault you can't handle this?" he pointed to his muscular torso with a smirk on his face.

Misting his face with his eyes closed, he didn't notice you got off your stool to step closer to him. You eyed him up and down, checking out how hot he was.

"You're right." Your hot breath made him open his eyes. "I can't handle it."

"I'm right?"

Up on your tiptoes, you leaned closer to his ear. Min Ho felt his heart get faster and faster.

"You're too bloody hot." you whispered sensually

Taking the mist from his hand, you put it aside and slid your arms around his neck. He gulped and his eyes flickered down to your lips. He carefully placed his hands on your waist.

"I hope you're not joking." he breathed out in a low voice.

"Why would I be joking?"

"Because you hate-"

You shushed him and leaned closer to his face. Min Ho felt the pace of his heart quickened more and held you tighter. As your lips were about to touch, Min Ho shook himself awake. Sitting up on his bed, he felt the sweat drip on his forehead. Never in his life had he had such an explicit dream of someone he despised so much.

The week consisted of two things: school and Kitty's venting. As much you liked the girl, she had nothing else to talk about but her supposed-discovery that your professor was her potential brother and that Dae hadn't thanked her for giving him back her necklace. So, reading a book in the comfort of your couch was enough for her to understand you had other things to do and she continued to rant to Q. You hadn't read far because your phone rang to notify you that someone texted you.

Yuri: Sleepover tonight?

Y/N: What's the occasion?

Yuri: Nothing, I just need to get my mind off things.

Y/N: Sure.

Yuri: Are you going to Min Ho's party? We could go together.

Min Ho. Again. And again. The two of you had not talked since the accident. Not that you minded. In fact, you were quite happy to not have him around as much. Though he did start to act weirdly around you the day after. You didn't question it as he was probably getting sick of seeing you just as much as you were.

You weren't going to go to the party. He did add you to the list of guests but it wasn't your thing. Adding the fact that it was against the rules and that your aunt was the vice-principal, you didn't want to get in trouble.

Y/N: I'll see. I'll be at your place in an hour.

You packed pyjamas and clothes for the next day in your bag and went to grab your toothbrush and other necessities in the bathroom. Opening the door, Min Ho was already there putting on his night cream. As soon as he saw you, he stopped moving. You gestured for him to move aside so you can grab your things but he didn't budge.

"Min Ho." you said in a warning voice.

He cleared his throat and finally left you space. You looked at him weirdly while shoving your hairbrush in your bag. You accidentally touched one of his products as it was in the way and he gasped in panic.

"Don't touch that!"

"You're getting weirder and weirder every day." you sighed.

"What are you even doing?"

"Be glad, I'm sleeping at Yuri's tonight. A small break away from you is going to do me some good."

He forced a smile. "That's so thoughtful of you."

You arrived at Yuri's soon enough and she invited you in kindly, offering you something to drink. Walking to her living room, you saw your aunt discussing in laughter with Principal Lim. She got up as soon as she saw you and came to engulf you in a tight hug.

"I haven't heard about you in days, I was wondering how you were doing."

"I'm great. I'm sorry I couldn't spend Chuseok with you."

She shook her head vigorously. "I'm just glad you spent time with your friends."

"Y/N is among our best rising students. Her grades are impressive." Jina added. "And I'm more than happy she and Yuri get to bond."

"Mom." Yuri rolled her eyes.

"What?" she said innocently.

"We'll be in my room."

She took your hand and dragged you behind her before shutting her door. With a heavy sigh, she let herself fall on her bed.

"I'm sorry if my invitation was so sudden. I felt lonely and I'm sick of only having Dae around."

You sat next to her. "I understand. I needed a break from my dorm anyway."

She frowned. "It's not going well?"

"I was misplaced in the boys dorm." you admitted.

"Oh."

"Right, oh." you chuckled. "Don't rat me out."

She zipped her mouth to confirm you that you could trust her. "Who are you rooming with?"

"Dae."

She gasped. "No way."

"And Q, and Min Ho." you failed to mention Kitty since you didn't want to cause a fuss over it.

"Y/N, the hell?"

You shrugged your shoulders. "We manage. The guys are not that bad, I swear."

"You could have asked to change."

"I tried already but the girls' is full. It's all good, don't worry."

She didn't seem fully convinced but she didn't push it. "Alright, if you say so."

"How about you? Have you heard from Juliana?"

Her head dropped down. "I've seen her on the first day but she left to whatever school, away from me. She promised we would find each other again but I'm starting to lose hope."

You rubbed her shoulder in a comforting way. "I'm sorry you have to go through this."

She exhaled loudly. "It's okay, it's only a rough pass, right?"

You acquiesced with her. To take her mind off everything, you prompted you do some face masks while watching the movie of her choice. You definitely didn't think you'd be doing anything of that sort when coming to KISS, even less with Yuri. For once, you felt like the two of you were more than forced friends and that you genuinely were bonding.

You left with Yuri to go to school and went separate ways so she could join Dae. As for you, Q texted you to join him and Kitty before class.

The three of you went to get ice americanos and sat at a table while Kitty went on with her necklace story. You almost wished you had stayed with Yuri.

"While I would love to talk about this whole thing again, I'd rather shove scissors in my ears, no offense." you said after she moved to talking about Dae again.

Q sighed in relief. "Yes, thank you. Seriously, this whole week, all we've been hearing is Dae, necklace, Yuri, Alex, necklace, Alex, Yuri, Dae, necklace... You're like a robot that's malfunctioning, stuck on a loop."

You nodded. "Yeah, and didn't you come here to have new experiences and love your life?"

"You know what Min Ho's Madness Party is?" Q asked which earned him a look from Kitty and you. "A new experience."

"Ugh, God. I can't believe I was about to stay in on a Friday night, pouting about a boy." she grunted. "Oh, no. I'm turning into LJ..."

"I'm out for this one. I'm not going." you announced before sipping on your coffee.

Q's eyes went wide. "What? No, both of you have to come. You're going to go out into the great big world and be a new kind of yourselves."

"A new kind of ourselves who..?" you trailed off in confusion.

"Who'll find someone to kiss?"

You exploded in laughter but Kitty seemed to be in agreement with his suggestion. "I always thought Dae would be my first kiss, and now he's the only boy in the world who can't be."

"Yeah, I know, I know. But think of all the possibilities. Seriously, use that matchmaker skill on yourself. Switch it up!" Q beamed at her.

"Okay... I could kiss somebody tonight. Yeah, I will kiss somebody tonight."

"Yes, girl." he shouted, satisfied.

"You guys have fun boy-chasing." you chuckled but Q shook his head

"Don't think you can get away from this, my friend."

You groaned. "Do I have to come?"

"Yes, please. You could help me with finding a boy." Kitty begged.

"I don't have your talent with that sort of things."

It was Q's turn to beg. "Y/N, I never see you go out much. It'll be fun. Consider it as a night out with us only."

You bit your lip in hesitation. "I guess I can stay for a bit. I might leave earlier, though."

Kitty helped you with choosing what you were going to wear. Since it was supposedly the event of the year, she insisted that you looked your very best. While she picked a tight black top with an equally tight black skirt, she spotted your red sheer top with a V neckline.

"Why is it that I have never seen you wear this?"

You took it from her. "It's something Yuri forced me to buy when we went shopping together once, nothing extravagant."

She scoffed. "Are you kidding? This will look amazing with your black skirt. Oh, and your chain necklace!"

You bickered over it until you gave up and changed. You helped her with the makeup and hair before doing yours. Satisfied with your looks, you went to the event together. The place was gigantic, a good way for Min Ho to show off his wealth as he was the one renting it.

"Do you see Q? He told me he was going to be with Florian." Kitty asked and you shook your head, clueless on where your friend was.

After assuring her that you'd be fine alone, you went separate ways to find the guys. The crowd was already dancing like there was no tomorrow, leaving you close to no space to pass through. You ended up getting out of the pack of people and opted to go look towards the bar. A wave of relief travelled your body when your eyes narrowed down to your friends as they were exchanging hugs and laughs. You wanted to join them but a voice calling you out interrupted you.

"Can I offer you something to drink? It's on me."

You stopped on your tracks as you held your breath, slowly turning around. Coming face to face with Min Ho, you smiled awkwardly as he gasped in horror.

"That's how you pick up on girls?" you let out a laugh as he cursed at himself for hitting on you.

"Ah, my eyes! It's like looking directly to the sun." Min Ho grumbled to himself.

You didn't bother staying with him as Q saw you from afar and invited you to join the lot.

"Hey, guys." you waved at them and Q could only laugh as he watched Min Ho behind you.

"You're so hot, you even got him to stare."

You brushed it off and hugged Kitty instead. However, she immediately broke away from it and pointed behind you.

"Dae is here." she said and Dae smiled at her from afar. "Nope. I am here to meet a new boy to kiss."

She stole Q's mocktail and expected for it to have alcohol in it. After discussing liquor, you picked up another drink that Q ordered for you and asked Florian to put his strong alcohol in it.

"Need to get tipsy?" Florian asked.

"Terribly."

Kitty laughed and raised her glass. "To new experiences. Let's do this."

Dae walked up to her and began to say something but the three others walked away. Clueless, you stood still and gave him a sad look.

"Good luck with that." you tapped his shoulder before catching up to the others.

You all soon went on the dance floor and started to enjoy the party fully. You bumped into someone by accident and apologized quickly. The girl squealed when she saw you.

"Y/N! I haven't seen you around much." Eunice exclaimed.

"I wasn't out much either."

"Good thing you are here. I talked about you to this boy the other day and he's so handsome. He's here, you should meet him."

You shook your hands in refusal. "Please, no."

"Come on, I'm sure you'll like him."

You stopped your protests as she pulled you out of the crowd. She walked around for a bit, looking for the man in particular, and then rushed you to him. He was sitting at the bar and exchanging with some other guy.

"Dongmin, this is Y/N."

One of the two guys excused himself and left you while the other smiled at you warmly. He was much taller than you and was definitely the type of guy who knew he was handsome. Well, like Min Ho.

"It's nice to meet you. Eunice has told me all about you."

"I'll leave you to it." the girl in question whispered before disappearing.

You were uncomfortable but at that point, you didn't care that much. Florian might have put too much liquor in your drink since you could already feel the effects. Dongmin ordered one for you and pulled out a flask out of his vest. Although it was a bad idea, you let him pour some in your glass.

"So, your parents were the heads of a restaurant company?"

"That's right."

"It must have been hard when they died. Going from a rich environment to living with the middle-class."

You almost spit out your sip. "Excuse me?"

"Well, it must be different now, no? I've heard you needed a scholarship to come here instead of being able to pay for your studies."

"I did get a scholarship, but-"

He cut you off. "I'm supposing your parents left nothing for you? Wow, that sucks."

"What? How-"

"Dongmin." someone said as they stopped behind you.

"Ah. The host of the event. How are you, Min Ho?"

"I'd be doing better if you weren't harassing my friend."

You stopped breathing for a bit. Min Ho was coming to your rescue and you couldn't be any more thankful for it. But you didn't understand why he was doing this.

"Harrassing? We were just talking."

Min Ho gave him a sour look. "About her parents, yeah? I don't think she appreciates it."

"We're good, man." Dongmin defended. "Right, Y/N?"

You simply shrugged your shoulders, earning a huff from Min Ho. "Are you feeling comfortable? Really?" he asked to be sure.

You looked back and forth between the two men and slowly shook your head. That told plenty for Min Ho to take you by the wrist and lead you away from the guy. There was a spot away from the dance floor that was quiet enough to feel more cozy. He invited you to sit and took a bottle of water from behind the bar to give it to you.

"I thought you were better than this to defend yourself."

"Thank you for your concern but I was doing just fine." you argued as you took a sip of water.

"Fine? Y/N, you were almost shaking there."

"Well, now I'm good." you shot at him. "I'll find Kitty and Q."

You left him behind and rushed back to the dancing floor. Little did you know that Min Ho followed you from a distance. Only to keep an eye on you in case you had to bump into Dongmin again.

The night went on, more drinks were consumed on your part, third-wheeling Q and Florian was a good way to summarize the whole thing. You had lost Kitty along the way as she went away after she threw a fit at Dae, evidently too drunk to be in her right mind.

The boys were making out furiously next to you and you were growing more and more disgusted. Not that you didn't root for them but they were far beyond keeping it innocent. Eventually, you left and found Eunice again in the crowd as Yuri started her set.

"I'm sorry about Dongmin. Min Ho told me what happened." she said as she gave you a hug.

She focused back on Yuri but your mind went off somewhere else. Maybe, just maybe, you liked the idea of Min Ho caring about you. After all, he hadn't been so bad in the past recent days.

"I'll be gone for a minute." you said to Eunice before starting to look for Min Ho.

You didn't know what you wanted to tell him but there was this thing between you that needed to be cleared up. With people jamming to the music, it made it hard for you to search for him properly.

As you were about to give up, you saw him from afar by recognizing his green suit that fitted him way too well for your own sake. You walked towards him but stopped when you were close enough to see what he was doing. Holding her closely by the waist, his lips were on Madison's. Your heart fell and it felt like everything around you disconnected. He pulled away from the girl and finally noticed you were standing only a few feet away from him.

"Y/N." he said and let go of Madison.

"I didn't want to interrupt." you managed to say. "I just wanted to-"

You couldn't finish your sentence. The music stopped abruptly and you saw Professor Lee with Principal Lim on the stage with stares of disapproval. Everyone began to run out of the place in a hurry which made you stumble only to crash on someone. You were lucky to find out that it was Yuri and she helped you get out with her and Dae. As soon as you stepped outside, camera flashes were blinding you. Yuri pushed you away violently and took off with Dae. You'd usually say it was a bitch move but considering the fact cameras were capturing her, she was probably only trying to protect you.

Min Ho ran to you after seeing her push you. He held your shoulders and scanned your body for any injury.

"Are you sure you are okay?" he asked again.

"Can you leave me be?" you exploded at him. "Go back to Madison or something."