#stuck with the most annoying guy you know for eternity and unfortunately they also know all your embarrassing childhood moments

[nerdie-faerie]

Imagine you get turned into a vampire but then you're little sibling - who is still a teenager! - get turned as well so now you're stuck in an eternal, endless cycle of siblings rivalry amplified by all the supernatural bullshit in your life. And when you're trying to figure out the latest said bullshit instead of your ex coming back into town and breaking your heart all over again, you're annoying little brother basically laughs in your face when he suggests the answer is 'ninja turtles'

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for killing several gods and attempting to break out of eternal imprisonment?

I (immortal, M) am an ancient dragon deity. My domain is over hunger and consumption, so naturally, I like to eat things. My favourite food is stars, which I had access to in abundance when I was able to roam freely through the universe.

This is where L (immortal, F) comes in. L is another dragon deity, and she got mad at me for eating stars (something about them being “sentient beings” and “we should respect living creatures”, you know, stupid stuff like that). She kept trying to stop me from doing what was literally the most natural thing in the world to me. Eventually, she got help. Apparently stars are capable of having children??? Anyway, these six gods came and tried to kill me, so of course I fought back in the only way I could: by trying to eat them.

At first I thought I would win. I had injured them and I was close to killing them, but then they fused themselves together and trapped me in this cocoon which for some reason I’m not able to destroy??? Soon after that I killed them for real (in self defence, please remember) but I realised that I had kind of imprisoned myself, since if the gods weren’t alive they couldn’t undo their fusion.

So then I realised that if I was going to escape, I would have to perform necromancy on the dead gods. So I asked my children (yes I had children. it’s complicated) to create a being that could do necromancy for me, which I would use to escape. Unfortunately for me, L had to come along and mess up my plan by giving the beings that my children had created sentience, so I couldn’t just use their bodies.

Long story short, after a few thousand years I figured out how to possess the now sentient beings. But the guy I possessed wasn’t happy about it for some reason? He said he didn’t like my plan and he keeps talking about how he’s going to get rid of me. Seriously, dude, what’s your problem? Why won’t you help me eat the sun? It just looks so tasty!

Anyway, I’m getting pretty annoyed at everyone. I’ve been stuck underground for too long. All I want is to get out and go back to eating stars. Is there anything wrong with that? Why does everyone hate me?

Also, I’m worried that one of the gods I killed has come back to life and is trying to stop me.

[ateezmakemeweep]

seonghwa x reader x yeosang; love triangle au

word count: 35k

angst, fluff, smut

it was in your first class of the semester, intro to creative writing at nine a.m., that you met kang yeosang.  

you didn’t know what to expect from the college experience, leaving the safety and familiarity of your hometown to come to a new city full of strangers and endless possibilities.

one of them being an all-consuming, butterfly-inducing first love that you missed out on from years of being socially anxious and reclusive.

it all started when you showed up late to your first class, red-faced and flustered and apparently very forgetful.

you sealed your fate the moment you borrowed a pen from the cute boy next to you, sneaky looks and shy smiles eventually morphing into so much more.

september - freshmen year

you’ve seen movies and shows and even heard some things in the halls of your high school about college classes. how they were so much harder than anything you’d been exposed to but also came with more freedom.

you didn’t need a certain color or book for the subject, you could freely leave to go the bathroom or get a drink, you didn’t even have to show up for all the professor cared.

it was also known that there were many different types of people in college: the stereotypical frat boys, boasting about parties and girls as they wore cut-off shirts and showed up to class hungover.

there were the edgier teens and young adults, finding their own look away from the eyes of their parents with piercings and tattoos and brightly colored hair that caught the attention of the older, snooty professor.

and then there was everyone else.

students like you who, maybe, didn’t fit in anywhere yet or didn’t know where they were gonna fit in; but, truthfully, fitting in was the last thing on your mind.

because it was the first day of classes, bright and early in the morning, and you were scrambling into the grand brick building, panicked and breathless, as you searched desperately for room 204.

you set an alarm and got out of your dorm room and everything, a single dorm you are so eternally grateful you secured. but it was a few wrong turns and entering one of the wrong buildings on the other side that landed you your current fate.

winded with messy hair and slightly red cheeks as you entered what you were praying was the right room. the professor was still doing introductions via a powerpoint and barely sparred you a glance, allowing you to easily slip into the first available seat.

you took the professor doing her own introduction and going over the syllabus to catch your breath, calm down and relax yourself because okay, yeah, that was a bit of a mess but you’re here in one piece now.

you made it in without getting scolded, you didn’t fall on your face or trip over the outdated tan carpet and you’re pretty sure no one even noticed you.

“i’ll spare you the ice breakers because i know you guys are gonna get stuck with some in your other classes,” the professor said, another win for you because you can’t imagine anything worse than trying to talk to someone right now.

��i just have a few notes for you to take and then i’ll let you guys go early. how does that sound?”

there’s a chorus of replies muffled by the sound of students shuffling to open their bags, notebooks hitting the table and the satisfying but annoying click of new pens.

it’s upon opening your own backpack that you realized, not only were you late to your first day of college but, you’d forgotten something as simple as a pen.

you rummage through your bag, hoping one just slipped to the bottom and letting out a quiet, annoyed sigh as you come to terms with this. you should’ve just brought your laptop, you already see several other people them so it would’ve been fine.

why do you always have to-

“need one?”

the deep voice from beside you is low and whispered, long fingers attached to a veiny hand offering you a blue pen. you hadn’t even noticed who you sat down next to you, far too consumed in your embarrassment about being late to notice the very attractive, very nice man sitting right next to you.

he couldn’t help but notice you though, if the way your bag hit into his shoulder and the cute little sigh you made when you plopped down right next to him didn’t immediately grab his attention.

his interest was only peeked further when he heard you rummaging next to him, a slight flush on your exposed neck that he can only assume happens when you’re flustered.

his voice ripped you from your frantic searching, eyes meeting his as your breath caught in your throat.

they were deep and brown, with a soft light in them that kept you entranced for far too long. his hair was black and looked soft to the touch, hanging just above his eyes so it didn’t obscure his regal features.

“i... yes please,” you finally answer with a wince, taking the pen from his hold gently. “thank you.”

“no problem,” he responds cooly, keeping his eyes on you for a few fleeting seconds before turning back to the board.

taking notes and focusing on the professor’s voice keeps you occupied most of the time, the pen in your hand and the blue ink on your paper a constant reminder of the person sitting right beside you.

he doesn’t look like anyone you’d ever met before in your life.

sure, you’d had crushes on people from your school back home but that was only because they were nice to you. they weren’t like the majority who made fun of anyone who wasn’t like them - cool and popular and had an interest in going to parties and being social.

there was never anyone who looked like him though, so strikingly attractive and cool even though he’d only said four words to you; maybe this is just showing your inexperience, falling in love at first sight with a person who just gave you a pen and has a pretty face.

“alright we’ll wrap up here. i’ll see you guys next time!”

your professor’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, the rustling of people all around you bringing you back to reality.

you close your book and put the cap back on the pen, grateful you were too distracted by your thoughts to chew it absentmindedly - you probably would’ve had to drop the class if you had to give him back a chewed up, slightly wet pen cap.

you look next to you to see the boy is tucking two books under his arm, about to get up and leave for the day before your lowly spoken voice stops him.

“wait,” you say, quiet but abrupt as he turns around to look at you.

his eyes are soft and glinted with a certain type of amusement, one you can’t quite make out or have the ability to try and determine right now. you can only hold out his pen dumbly, your stare on him blank despite the slight flush to your cheeks.

it only deepens when he holds your gaze, eyes roaming your face before a smile crosses his face and make your heart jump inside your chest.

“it’s okay, keep it,” he says, nodding his head toward your bag.

“oh... are you sure?” you squeak out, “i don’t wanna leave you without an extra pen.”

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth as he nods his head, everything about him, his presence, his laugh, his face making you grow even more out of sorts.

“i’ve got more, don’t worry.”

“oh. well, thank you!” you smile softly, tucking the pen in the pocket of your sweater. “i’ll be sure not to lose it.”

“cool,” he chuckles out, the sweet smile on his face causing yours to widen. “i’m yeosang.”

“y/n,” you introduce sweetly, a lingering silence between you two full of soft smiles and wandering eyes; you aren’t aware of that feeling hanging in the air, something so obvious and palpable when two people are immediately attracted to one another, but he feels it.

he felt it in the way he’d sneak glances at you, your brows furrowed as you took notes or the far away look in your eye when you dazed off with your cheek on your hand.

he didn’t know why he was immediately drawn to you, maybe something about your wide-eyed looks or sweet vanilla scent, but he was sure of two things: he needed to know your name and he had to get here early next class to get the same seat next to you.

november - freshmen year

it took yeosang two months to ask you out.

it proved to be one of the more challenging things he’d done within these past two months of school - not because he was nervous or thought you weren’t interested but because getting you to open up was incredibly trying.

he knew you were interested though, if the way you alcoholism when you saw him or continued to sit next to him was any indication of that.

you learned within the first few weeks of class that he was a freshmen like you, had an older sister who also went to this school and planned with his seven high school friends to all attend college together.

“that’s... kind of crazy,” you giggled, a smile on yeosang’s face hearing your laugh ring through the classroom.

the professor was running a few minutes late, leaving you and him and all your other classmates to chat amongst yourselves.

“do you live together?”

“unfortunately,” he says, the pain in his voice causing you to muffle another giggle into your hand. “i love them, don’t get me wrong, but it’s like... constant chaos. and the house is always mess. it’s a miracle that i won rock, paper, scissors for a single room.”

“well that’s good then,” you say with a smile. “i have a single dorm here, too, actually.”

“oh?” he says, head cocked to the side questioningly. “did you wait too long to apply?”

“oh no, i actually... requested it,” you tell him quietly, a slight blush on your cheeks as you explain yourself. “i do better with my own space. i don’t know if i could be around someone, like, all the time. especially if they had different habits than i did.”

“i get that, completely,” yeosang says, a shudder going through him at the mere thought of some of his roommate’s different habits.

like how wooyoung rarely throws out leftover food before putting it in the sick, leaving disgusting, soggy food out that results in all of them gagging and screaming at him.

or how mingi insists on showering in the late hours of the night, the sound of water and pipes squealing ripping him from his slumber.

or, one of his personal favorites, how hongjoong must always have three pairs of shoes stacked on top of the shoe rack - no more, no less, or he says it throws off the rack’s equilibrium and sends him into a frenzy.

“but doesn’t it get lonely?” he asks, “what do you on weekends and stuff?”

“homework, sleep, sometimes go to a coffee shop and do more work,” you shrug, never realizing how much of a reclusive loser you seem to be until this very moment. “i’ve met a few girls from my classes but our project ended a few weeks ago.”

you felt the need to throw that in there, just so he knows you do in fact see other people from time to time.

“well you should come to one of our parties,” yeosang says with a smile.

“my sister’s friend always throws them at his house. they’re fun and don’t get too sloppy since it’s not people our age trying to catch up on the full college experience.”

dread pools in the pit of your stomach at the word party, not being able to picture anything worse than standing in a overcrowded house being surrounded by sweaty, drunk bodies and the stench of alcohol.

but that sounds far too harsh to say to yeosang, instead giving him a small sympathetic smile as you shrug your shoulders.

“i don’t know, i’m not much of a party person,” you confess quietly.

“oh, c’mon,” yeosang whines slightly, swinging his chair to face you playfully.

there’s a glint of something in his eyes, like he’d be fully prepared to beg and plead with you just to see you outside of the classroom or library.

“it’ll be fun! we’ll be able to hang out without finding our voice and engaging the audience.”

you giggle at the words that have left your professor’s mouth about seven hundred times this semester, cocking your head to the side as you looked at him pleadingly.

partially because, if he keeps looking at you like that, you’re gonna crack.

“i don’t go to parties much,” you tell him, a soft sympathetic frown on your face.

you really don’t wanna reject him. you wanna hang out with him outside of this class and school and engaging the audience but why does it have to be in that type of setting?

but it’s not like you can suggest any other setting.

because then it’ll seem like you’re asking him out on a date and that is something you definitely can’t do.

“why? are you scared?” yeosang teases, his eyebrow quirking up along with the smirk on his lips. “i’ll be with you the whole time. you can even meet my friends, they’ll be on their best behavior for you.”

you’ll never get used to the way he says your name. the way his deep voice makes it sound and how butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“yeosang...” you drag out in a slight whine, feeling bad at how eager he’s becoming and how much you really don’t wanna go. but you wanna go for him. you really, really do.

his smile widens at hearing you say his name, the sound of it falling from your pretty lips never failing to give him the same reaction. he wants to hear you say it more, in every way, in every setting, where people and his friends see that you’re comfortable with him.

“please, y/n?” he asks, his face leaning closer to yours.

your faces are mere inches apart, unaware to everyone else in the room sleeping on the tables or texting on their phones.

his eyes are roaming every bit of your face, lips quirked up in a smile that has your eyes falling down to his lips before back to his glinted eyes.

“for me,” he hums lowly, his smile turning to a smirk when he notices you swallow nervously.

“i really wanna hang out with you,” he says, his voice just above a whisper as he speaks to you and only you. “if you hate it that much, we’ll leave and do something else. but i want us to try. i want you to meet my friends and just have fun for a night with me.”

you let out a sigh, the air between you thick and charged as his eyes become more and more hopeful.

“i won’t leave you once. not even to pee.”

you narrow your eyes at him, pushing him back playfully and ignoring the hard muscle under your hand.

“i don’t wanna hang out with you if you’re gonna piss your pants.”

his deep chuckle booms through the room, waking a few students angrily while grabbing the attention of others. but he can only shake his head at you, eyes falling to your lips when he sees you press your teeth into the soft looking skin.

“then it’s a deal. as long as you’re there, i won’t piss my pants. how does that sound?”

you first met park seonghwa at that party on a friday night.

he was just in the midst of the many introductions and first impressions of yeosang’s seven roommates, sealing his fate as yeosang’s incredibly handsome but standoffish best friend.

you were more so focused on how handsome and happy the black-haired was to see you anyway, a smile lighting up his face the second he saw you emerge from your car.

driving yourself was a sure fire way to not drink and get shit faced, release your ever present desire and crush on yeosang in the form of a sloppy drunken kiss and embarrassing, stuttered confession.

“hey guys, this is y/n,” yeosang said, his hand guiding you by the small of your back. “the girl from my class, who-”

“you haven’t stopped talking about? yeah, we figured,” the friend he introduced as wooyoung chirps, throwing his arm around your shoulder. “you’re just as pretty as he said, y/n. do you want a drink?”

you can barely respond to the happy, chipper boy next to you, too distracted by his words and the pink flush creeping up on your cheeks.

“i... uh... no thank you,” you finally stutter out, an awkward giggle leaving your mouth. “i drove myself here so i can’t drink.”

“now why the hell would you do that!” wooyoung yelps, throwing you an incredulous look before punching yeosang in the arm.

“um, ow?!” yeosang says, a smile pulling at your lips at the sound of his voice.

“why would you invite her and not offer her a ride, you sick fuck? now she can’t drink and have fun.”

“i’ll still have fun,” you reassure wooyoung with a sweet smile. “i don’t drink much anyway. or come to parties, for that matter, so this is all gonna be a new experience.”

“oh shit, seonghwa, you hear that?” wooyoung says, nodding his head toward the dirty blonde with a sour look on his face. “she’s a recluse, too.”

“don’t call her that,” yeosang snips at the same time seonghwa says “don’t call me that.”

wooyoung only rolls his eyes before promptly getting whisked away to dance by mingi and san, leaving you and the others huddled around the couch and side table littered with their beers.

“i’m sorry about him,” yeosang says, breathless and defeated in a way only his oldest friend can make him. “he has no filter or knowledge of boundaries.”

“it’s okay, i like him,” you smile, your eyes meeting his and causing your heart to jump.

he looks better than he usual does if that’s even possible, his black hair hanging low and the faint smell of his shampoo wafting in your nose.

he’s wearing the same soft and sweet but amused expression he always has, the strangest mix of someone who looks like they’d be complete trouble but also someone you could bring home to your parents.

“then you’d be the only one,” yeosang chuckles out, the black-haired turning his head to his friend sitting on the couch. “right, hwa?”

“right,” the man’s deep voice booms, your eyes meeting at the same time.

he’s just as striking as seonghwa but not in such a boyish way. there’s a deep, brooding intensity to him that scares you ever so slightly, like he’s just as hard and cold as his expression says.

“do you wanna go meet the others?” yeosang asks, ripping your gaze away from seonghwa. “i think hongjoong and jongho are around here somewhere.”

“oh- sure,” you smile, looking back to seonghwa to see his eyes already on you. “nice meeting you, seonghwa.”

he hums a response before lifting the beer bottle to his mouth, legs spread and neck rolling to the side as if to deter anyone from sitting near him.

yeosang’s hand finds its way to the small of your back again, the warmth seeping through your shirt and making butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“don’t mind seonghwa, he’s a grouch at these,” yeosang says, a small giggle leaving your mouth as you look back at him.

“he seemed nice,” you assure him quietly, your face way closer to his than you anticipated. you can almost feel his minty breath on your skin, warmth all around you as he guides you carefully.

“they all do.”

“good,” yeosang smiles, his thumb rubbing along your back before stopping you in front of two boys playing beer pong.

“you fucking idiot! you suck!”

“fuck off, this is my first time and i’ve gotten more than you!”

you and yeosang share a look of amusement before he clears his throat, the taller boy’s head snapping toward you both. his eyes light up in some sort of recognition, dropping the white ping pong ball and ignoring the way it bounces onto the floor.

“getting your ass handed to you, i see,” yeosang quips, jongho rolling his eyes before holding his hand out to you.

“i’m jongho, yeosang’s coolest and most talented friend.”

a smile lights up your face despite the more crowded and loud area, taking your hand in jongho’s as you introduced yourself.

“you guys are in the same class, right? tell me, how much does yeosang hit his head falling asl-”

“hey, yeosang!”

all of you crane your heads toward the new voice, a group of guys with red, glassy eyes and shaggy hair looking at yeosang expectantly. you don’t recognize them from any of your classes or around campus, figuring they’re older seniors or friend’s of his sister.

“we’re gonna smoke in the back? you wanna come?”

you’re all too aware of the hand on your back moving to your waist, squeezing your hip lightly in a way that’s oddly reassuring in the moment. like he knows this area is louder and more crowded and making you ready to bolt.

you’re only not because he’s next to you and his friends seem incredibly happy to meet you.

“nah, i’m good,” his deep voice reassures.

you watch the boy’s gaze shift from yeosang to you, eyeing your body up and down before it lands on your hips. a smirk crosses his face and he nods his head, an amused “ahh, okay,” leaving his mouth.

there’s an immature and embarrassing chorus of “oohs” and “ahh,” like the grown college men are actually in a class of immature elementary schoolers who just got in trouble.

yeosang only rolls his eyes and flips them off, your eyes widening just as he turns to you with a soft smile.

“my sister’s friends. they’re cool, just stupid as shit.”

you bite down on your lip so you don’t burst out laughing, giving him a small nod that makes his smile widen.

“you wanna try playing beer pong?” he asks, “i’ll drink your beers so you can’t use that excuse.”

your eyes narrow as you pinch him arm gently, his arm knocking into yours as he narrows his in return.

“fine,” you say, “but i’m gonna be bad. i’ve never played before.”

“jongho plays every weekend and is still terrible,” hongjoong says, patting you on the shoulder reassuringly. “so it’s fine.”

“i’m not terrible!”

but come to find out, after nearly three rounds, he was pretty terrible. either he was pretty terrible or you were the fastest learner in beer pong history at this institute.

“you’re gonna be bad?” yeosang mocks with a smirk, your hands awkwardly bumping as you walk around the block.

the house had gotten far too stuffy and crowded after the second round, the noise growing louder and bodies growing closer to you in a way that made you incredibly nervous.

it was fun at first, even you can admit that. but once it got too loud, your discomfort started to show itself.

your wandering eyes, your teeth in your lip, the way you were no longer laughing or high-anniversary hongjoong despite being on different teams. yeosang had caught on immediately, deeming the third game your last before you took a break outside.

the cold air was refreshing and just what you needed but yeosang’s warm body next to you is nice too. the way your cold hand grazes his warm one, the way you’ll look at him any time it happens and catch him already staring at you.

the way, if it wasn’t for him pushing you out of your comfort zone, you would’ve never gone to an unfamiliar party or played a round (or three) of drinking games.

“i didn’t expect to be good, if you could believe that,” you giggle softly, biting down on your lip as you watch your feet. they’d almost be in sync, if you weren’t a naturally fast walker and yeosang had a slower, smoother swagger of a walk.

“i don’t know if i can,” he says, his voice teasing and light as you walk in the darkness. “beginners luck maybe but it seemed like more.”

“well i’ll probably never do it again so i’m glad we discovered this tonight,” you say quietly, a small giggle leaving your mouth.

lost in the way your heart is pounding and butterflies are in your stomach, you don’t realize yeosang isn’t walking until he pulls you by the elbow gently. your back hits in front softly, your eyebrows furrowing as you turn to look at him.

you’re greeted by a look of mock hurt, yeosang’s eyes staring down at you causing another small smile to grace your face.

“what?”

“i thought you’d come back next week,” he says, voice so soft and sweet it makes the butterflies act up even more; he shouldn’t sound like this when he can also sound so scary and intimidating, the deep tone of his voice never failing to send your cheeks blazing.

“we had fun, no? i really like hanging out with you, y/n.”

for a moment you think you ruined something that barely started to build between you two. that the fleeting look of interest in his eye is gonna be shot to hell because he thinks you’re rejecting him in some way.

but you like him.

you really like him and you really like hanging out with him - you just don’t wanna do it in such a...crowded setting.

“i liked it, too, yeosang,” you confess immediately, faintly aware of his fingers toying with yours. “but... parties aren’t my thing. it got too crowded and i just get uncomfortable but i really liked hanging out with you.”

now he’s gonna think you’re stupid. silly and stupid and, quite frankly, weird that you can’t be in a normal setting for college students. maybe you should’ve just pushed through it, maybe you should’ve just-

“so no parties next time?” he asks, the hand toying with your fingers finally fully grasping your hand. the move makes your heart jump in your chest, the perfect fit of warmth and strength in your hand making you bite back a smile.

it doesn’t stop the blush from crossing your face, though, beyond grateful for the darkness in the sky right now.

“we can just hang out us, too. see a movie, go to dinner, whatever you wanna do.”

“so like a date?”

you don’t know why you blurt that out but you’re beyond embarrassed when you realize you do, your eyes growing wide and face heating even more; if the ground swallowed you up right now, you wouldn’t even mind.

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth and it only makes you more embarrassed, your gaze dropping and head falling ever so slightly.

he crouches so he’s staring up at you, a teasing smile on his face that brings a frown to your lips.

“i’m sorry, i don’t know why i-”

“yes, a date,” he says, successfully cutting you off as he rises to his full height and lifts your face to look at him. his finger’s resting under your chin and he’s standing even closer to you, eyes roaming you in such a way that makes you stare back dumbly.

“let me take you on a date. how does tomorrow sound?”

your eyes roam his for a few silent seconds, half because you’re in shock and half because you’re still embarrassed, until you realize he’s standing there awaitingly.

eyebrow quirked cockily and eyes full of amusement, like he somehow already knows you’re not gonna say no to him.

“i... tomorrow’s good,” you finally say, not being able to help the big smile that crosses your face.

the sight causes his heart to lift in his own chest, leaning down to press a soft and surprising kiss to your cheek. it’s simple and chaste and sweet but it makes every bit of you feel even more warm and happy, excitement bubbling inside you as he pulls back and interlaces your fingers together.

dinner and a movie turned into a very impromptu trip to the store for blankets, food and a picnic basket.

the restaurant yeosang planned on taking you to, a new italian restaurant in the center of town, had a two hour wait and the new romcom that followed was sold out for the night, leaving you and yeosang in his car trying to come up with a new course of action.

you insisted that you didn’t care what you did, that you could just go back to your dorm or his apartment and order take out or watch a movie there.

but he noticed you looking at the sky absentmindedly, a far away, fascinated look in your eye at the few visible stars and had an idea of his own.

he refused to tell you what you guys were shopping for, just that you’d see when you got there and could guess as you went along. it had all been so strangely intimate and domestic, yeosang pushing the cart as you threw things in after looking at him pleadingly.

“y/n, i told you to buy the whole damn store if you want. you don’t have to look at me like that over a box of cookies.”

you narrowed your eyes, insisting you will absolutely not do that.

“i just don’t know why you’re not letting me pay for anything. not even gas,” you whine.

he rolls his eyes silently as he pushes the cart along, a smile pulling at his lips as he walks past you.

“and you haven’t even told me what we’re doing!” you yelp after him, running after him like a child who doesn’t wanna lose their parent. he cranes his neck back as he raises an eyebrow, ushering you along to “find out what his genius plan is.”

when he goes down the bedding aisle telling you to pick out the fluffiest blanket, you look at him with suspicion all over your face. a smile pulls at his lips as he ushers you over himself, his hand lingering on your waist.

“this is the nice kind,” you tell him, a happy smile on your face even though it’s white and could very well be stained and destroyed.

“then put it in, pretty girl,” he says lowly, a squeal threatening to leave you as as butterflies erupt in your stomach. a smirk crosses his lips when he sees you get flustered, tightening his hold on your waist for a moment before dropping it entirely.

his real course of action starts when you guys are done shopping, fruits and cookies and crackers stocked in the cart along with a hidden gem he snuck under the cart tray.

it’s by a stroke of luck that, when you guys pass the bathrooms, you ask if it’s okay if you run in there quickly. he tells you to meet him in self check-out as he pays, hauling ass to the register and sticking all the items in a reusable bag.

you come out with a sympathetic smile, asking him for the tenth time if you could please give him some money for tonight’s date.

“absolutely not,” he insists, grabbing your hand so naturally, it’s like you guys have done this for longer than two days. “it didn’t go the way i intended so i have to make it up to you.”

“no you don’t,” you whine quietly, looking up at him as a biting gust of winds sends you shivering. “this is fun, too. you’re just nice to be around.”

a smile lights up his face as he peeks down at you, his hold on you tightening before you quickly reach his car.

you ask where you guys are going for half the ride, a mischievous and coy smile on your face as you beg him to tell you where you’re going and what you’re doing.

you face him the entire time you do so, your fingers toying with his on the middle console. he doesn’t give you any hints but makes sure to keep his hand in yours, soft, sweet chuckles leaving his mouth when you let out more whines and groans.

“just a little longer,” he insists, the warmth of the car and his hand causing your head to rest on the seat.

it’s all very comfortable and calm, the quiet hum of his car nearly lulling you to sleep until you feel the car stop.

your head pops up and your eyes widen when you see you’re down by the beach, about an hour from your town and causing your eyes to gape at him - he just drove this far for the beach in the middle of november.

“the beach?” you ask, a confused smile tugging at your lips. you love it here and you’re certainly not mad, you spend most days in the summer down here, but you guys definitely can’t go in the ocean right now.

“yup,” he says simply, turning off the car before silently getting out. you watch him through the window as he opens the back door, carefully taking out the bag full of food and blankets before making his way to your side.

you send him a smile when he opens your door and extends his hand, a quiet “thank you,” leaving your mouth as you take his hand. he interlaces your fingers and your hands swing between you two, the chill from the ocean biting and cold but also slightly refreshing from the car’s heat.

“so...” you say once you two stop on the sand, the grains lumpy under your sneakers. you’ve never seen the beach this dark and desolate and it would absolutely unnerve you if yeosang wasn’t beside you. “what exactly are we doing here?”

“you mean you don’t wanna swim?”

your expression causes him to chuckle, disconnecting your hands to lay out a blanket on the sand. your next expression, however, warms his heart more than he’s ever felt before.

your eyes widen as they look at him, a surprised and excited gasp leaving as he pulls out a medium-sized picnic basket.

“when... when did you get that?!” you yelp, moving closer to his larger, warmer body to get a good look at it. “i didn’t even see you pick it up!”

“i was sneaky, right?” he teases with a wink, guiding you by the waist to sit down before placing the basket between you.

you barely notice the harsh gust of wind because of your excitement and surprise, yeosang’s hands draping a blanket around your shoulders before you can even shiver.

“i even packed the food. i didn’t really know how to be sneaky for that so it was pure luck that you went to the bathroom.”

and low and behold, when he opens up the white, woven basket, all the food you got was packed in perfectly. plates and utensils were strapped to the top with two small cups next to the array of fruits, cookies, and several ingredients for sandwiches.

you both happened to like cheese ones, your hands grazing and soft giggles leaving when you both reached for it in the frozen section.

“i... i can’t believe you did this,” you mumble quietly, feeling far more touched and happy than you’re willing to let on. “this is so cute. thank you, yeosang.”

you look up to see the soft smile he’s sending your way, his hand reaching out to cup your cold, red cheek. his thumb rubs over the cold skin for a few seconds, like he’s testing the waters to see if this is too much too soon.

the way you lean into him makes his heart start to pound just a little bit, his head cocked to the side as his eyes roam your face - you look so pretty, even with early signs of windburn.

“of course, pretty,” he mumbles quietly, that word again causing the butterflies to return. “thank you for coming on this date with me.”

you eat your sandwiches and fruit huddled under a blanket together, him wiping a crumb from your face and you throwing a stray piece of cheese at him when he calls you messy.

it’s all very tranquil and comfortable, like you guys have known each other for longer than two months. it’s still just enough time to still be unsure though, if your touches are too much or the way you’re looking at each other is setting yourselves up to be hurt.

you couldn’t care about any of that right now, though, laying down on the blanket and looking up at the sky with yeosang by your side.

you started off close, arms brushing before they eventually stayed glue to each other, and now you’re even closer. your head is just mere inches from resting on his chest, a shiver running through you that acts as the catalyst of him pulling you closer to him.

“c’mere” he mumbled lowly, your body immediately moving closer to hm until his warmth and woodsy scent surrounds you. you smile into his sweater, toying with the ends before his large, veiny hands covers your smaller, cold one.

“this was a really smooth idea, you know,” you say after a few moments of silence, eyes threatening to closer and body relaxing if you continue to lay here in the most comfortable silence of your life.

“oh?” he says, hearing the smile in his voice.

“yeah,” you say, tentatively turning to look up at him. there’s a look in his eye that makes you feel comfortable enough to rest your chin on his chest, your eyes briefly falling to his lips. “i think this was better than dinner and a movie. the stars are really pretty.”

a small smile grace his face as he looks at you, hand reaching up to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind your ear. all of his moves and touches tonight have been slow and gentle, like you’re a piece of glass he has to be fragile with.  

you’ve never been treated like that before and it makes your heart flutter, the sweet look in his palpable even in the darkness.

“they are,” he mumbles, his eyes not leaving you as his hand gently moves down your face.

your skin is smooth and cold and he doesn’t think he ever wants this moment to end. the closeness, the wide-eyed look you’re giving him, the way he feels so content and at ease, it’s like he doesn’t know how he lived peacefully before this.

“when’s our next date gonna be?”

a smile lights up your face as a cute giggle leaves your mouth, his hand on your chin constricting your movements ever so slightly.

“this one isn’t even over,” you tease lightly, eyebrows raising playfully. “what if when it ends, you don’t wanna see me again?”

“and why would that happen?” yeosang asks curiously, genuinely confused and positive that that wouldn’t be the case. because as he pulls your face a tad closer to him, your amused expression dropping to one of a surprise, he’s certain of two things.

he’ll never get tired of seeing you and he wants to kiss you right now.

“because, right now,” he starts again, voice low and deep that effects every part of your body. “i wanna kiss you more than anything. and then make sure i see you soon, as soon as possible, really, so i can do it again.”

you swallow nervously as you look at him wide-eyed, the confidence and sureness in his words causing your eyes to drop to his lips again.

you meet in a kiss half way that’s just as gentle and sweet as it is fulfilling. it’s a kiss that shows it’s your first time kissing each other but that’s what makes it so nice for both of you.

it’s slow and chaste but everything about it is pure. there’s no other intention than just kissing, testing out and acting on the attraction that was building the moment you saw each other.

he moves you on your back gently to hover over you more comfortable, your eyes closed as your arms wound around his neck. he doesn’t even make a move to deepen the kiss in any way, his tongue barely flicking out to trace the outline of your lips.

it’s then you pull back breathless, looking at him above you with flushed cheeks and a heaving chest.

“i... i want that, too,” you admit quietly after a few seconds, his eyes on you and yours on him.

because you wanna see him again, you wanna see more of his smile and hear more of his laugh and get to know the boy who briefly his way into your heart and mind so quickly.

“good,” he mumbles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek before pecking the other one with a smile. “that makes me happy.”

you wanna kiss him again but he flops back down beside you before you can daringly initiate one, pulling you atop his chest again as he wraps his arm around you.

it takes everything in you not to fall asleep right there and then, feeling so comfortable and safe beside him, you’re excited to see how your next date is gonna go with him.

febuary - freshmen year

your second date turned into many more, becoming more comfortable and familiar with each other until, one night, he finally asked you to be his girlfriend.

it wasn’t anything grand, just after a night of late night drives and fast food run. your feet were up on the dash and you fed him salty, fattening fries with the moon as your witness.

he looked over at you occasionally, watching as you sipped from your drink or took a bite of your sandwich and realized in that moment, he needed you to be his.

officially.

because as far as he was considered, you were his and he was yours after your first date stargazing.

“y/n?” you hear him say, your mouth still connected to the straw as you guzzle down your soda. you move your gaze to see him looking at you, nervously swallowing your drink as your eyebrows pull together.

“what?” you ask, immediately wiping at your face and mouth. “is there something on my face?”

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth as he shakes his head, eyes roaming you for a few more seconds before his hand is resting on your face. the movement causes your heart to stutter, eyes widening and heart starting to pound.

you hope he can’t hear it. you think there’s about a 40% chance that he does and those odds are way too high for you.

“i like you,” he says.

the confession is short and sweet and everything about it is genuine. the way his voice drops and he’s looking at you with such a soft fondness, you can’t find the words to respond.

“i really like you, y/n,” he mumbles, his thumb slowly caressing the side of your face.

every stroke of his finger makes your heart pound more and more, your eyes looking up at him with a palpable look of, both, fear and fondness. because you like him, too. you really, really like him but that scares you a little.

so does the way he’s looking at you, touching you so softly and sweetly and not tearing his gaze away from you.

“i want you to be mine,” he finally says, breaking the silence in the car. “will you be my girlfriend?”

his friends took the news of your relationship just as you expected, excited and overwhelmingly supportive, with a few lingering eyes that went unnoticed by everyone.

but that’s because he made sure to keep it that way.

you didn’t go to yeosang’s often but when you did, you made sure to talk and hang out with each and every one of them. some of them were crazier and chattier than others but you found it all very endearing - no matter how overwhelmed and scared it made you.

seonghwa was the only one who seemed to be on your level, able to sit in a room and observe without saying much unless directly spoken to.

you haven’t talked to the handsome boy a lot, just casual greetings and goodbyes, but you just knew you were intimidated by him. he always held such a stern, hard expression on his face, dignified and serious in a way that just didn’t seem to match the group.

the only times you’d see him crack a smile when the boys would start brawling or hongjoong said a corny, uncharacteristic joke.

he did’t make you feel uncomfortable or unwanted though, he always said hi and always made you feel welcomed by making extra food for you or automatically setting an extra spot for you.

it was subtle but it was nice, always making you feel just a little more welcomed by yeosang’s friends - but when valentine’s day came, yeosang did everything in his power to let his roommates know they were not welcomed in their own home for the night.

“what?!” wooyoung screeched when hongjoong broke the news to them. “where the hell are we supposed to go on valentine’s day as seven single losers?! and then get a hotel?! are you nuts?”

yeosang only stared blankly at the boy as groans of protest were heard from the others, grumbles of “who said i’m single?” and “i’m not a loser,” throughout the  apartment.

“when did i say you could never come home you dramatic fuck?” yeosang sneered, “i just asked for a few hours!”

he had been tormenting himself for weeks about what to do for valentine’s day  with you. you insisted over and over again that, really truly, you didn’t want to do anything.

but he thought you deserved it and he’d never actually had a girlfriend during this god forsaken holiday - he had to try it at least once and what better time than with someone like you?

“that might be the problem though,” seonghwa said to him one night, after hearing his friend carry on for hours and hours.

yeosang looked to his friend on the couch with a confused expression, the dirty blonde rolling his eyes.

“she doesn’t like crowds or loud noises. you think it’s really a good idea to bring her out to a restaurant or public place on valentine’s day?”

naturally an extrovert, yeosang would’ve never thought that to be an overwhelming or distasteful prospect. the booming voices of people and laugher and music was something he’d loved all his life but, seonghwa’s right, you don’t like that.

you didn’t like it at the party and you don’t like it here. you don’t like when a restaurant or movie theater is too crowded, always choosing an area that’s more secluded and quiet.

“shit, you’re so right, hwa,” yeosang says, slapping his friend on the arm gratefully. “maybe i’ll just make her dinner here. we can stay in, that’ll be nice, right?”

seonghwa gives a disinterested shrug and yeosang can see he lost his friend already, wondering how the dirty blonde even knew that until he remembers, he’s the same way.

avoids crowds and big outings like the plague, only humoring them because they’d all annoy the shit out of him if he didn’t. and he thinks if seonghwa had a valentine, he’d wanna do the same thing with them.

“okay, okay, okay,” wooyoung says, the only one of the seven that had shit to say per usual. “we will go out and get shit faced if you insist. cry about our sad single lives and the fact we’re not loved this year. but... i ask that you save some left over food and buy us at least two drinks.”

hongjoong knew to rush the boys out of the apartment in a timely fashion after that, already seeing in his mind the brawl that wold ensue between yeosang and wooyoung - and once that happens, everyone else will pick sides and create more chaos.

it leaves yeosang with a little over two hours to prepare the house and dinner, lighting a candle and throwing nonsense into any closet that would fit in until the aroma of spices and flavors filled the air.

he told you to come at seven on an empty stomach, that he’d be providing drinks, dinner and dessert and to not even try bringing him a gift the same way you requested; but when you show up at seven on the dot with a cute little pink bag, he sees you did’t listen either.

“baby... i told you i didn’t need anything.”

“and i said the same thing,” you whine, poking him in the stomach lightly as you walk through the apartment.

it’s the most spotless you’d ever seen the place, a soft touched smile on your face as you picture him scrambling to clean and get the boys out.

“you even cleaned.”

“please, i made the boys do it before i kicked them out.”

“yeosang!” you squeal, narrowing your eyes at your boyfriend of two months. “you didn’t have to do that!”

“believe me, i did,” he assures, pulling you by the hand to the table set for two. he pulls out your chair and you bite back a smile, mumbling a quiet “thank you,” as you watch him prepare two plates of food.

the idea of this always embarrassed you, a cheesy romantic dinner with candles and chivalry and a boyfriend who looks at you so lovingly. but now that you’re here, you know you’ve never felt this happy before.

that seeing him do this for you and only you is one of best feelings in the world; you’re still not crazy about valentine’s day, you find it all very cheesy and dramatic, but you think it just has to do with the fact that you’re with yeosang is why you’re so happy and touched tonight.

“this is good,” you hum through a mouth full a food, a smirk on his face as he reaches over to dap at your messy lips.

“yeah?”

“yeah,” you answer through narrowed eyes, yeosang’s deep melodic laugh quickly melting your annoyed expression way.

“you look pretty.”

your brows pull together in confusion, slurping noodles into your mouth at the exact moment he says that.

you look down at your outfit in contemplation, a simple comfortable outfit you were excited to wear when he asked if you wanted to stay in for valentine’s day.

you were shocked when that was the plan he came up with, knowing that yeosang enjoys going out and socializing every day and night; but that’s what happens when you’re good at it. when you’re so charismatic and joyful and just so naturally draw people into you.

he asked if you wanted to go to dinner or a movie or do a crazier type of date but you didn’t have the heart to tell him no. just told him he can plan it and you’ll go along with whatever he wants.

you ended up getting a text from him asking if you just wanted to stay in. that he’d cook for you and you guys could just hang out and watch movies as long as they weren’t cheesy romantic comedies.

“why do you look so surprised?” he chuckles, ripping you from your thoughts as a small, shy smiles finally rises on your face - you don’t feel very pretty, in fact, you thought you actually looked kind of sloppy.

“i don’t know,” you mumble, a blush creeping up on your face as you twirl your noodles.

you feel his gaze boring into your face, pressing your lips together before finally raising your eyes to him.

“what!” you squeal, face heating up even more in a way that causes a deep, melodic chuckle to leave yeosang.

“you’re cute, that’s what,” he says, eyes roaming your face before they fall on the small, pink gift next to you. “and it’s because you’re cute i’m not mad you got me that.”

you follow his eyes to the bag by your elbow, huffing as you meet his mock harsh gaze.

“how could i not get you something?” you whine. “you never let me buy anything ever! and you made all of this food.”

he watches as you slurp up the last of your food, smiling gratefully at him before standing up from your chair. you take the bag next to you and pad over to him shyly, holding out your hand awaitingly.

he looks at it before meeting your gaze, eyebrow quirked with a smile pulling at his lips.

“what?”

“i wanna give it to you before i do this dishes.”

“like fuck.”

your eyes widen as a laugh bubbles out of your mouth, smacking him in the arm lightly before he loops an arm around your waist. you fall into him with a squeal, your heart stuttering when you’re suddenly in his lap and he’s smiling down at you.

“i- it’s only fair,” you manage to stutter out, feeling silly for being flustered over being in his lap. “you cooked all of this for us.”

there’s a pout on your lips that he can’t help but notice, next to the wide-eyed innocent shock that’s always behind your eyes.

when he pulls you in his lap the same way he did now, watching you shift and move on him in ways he doesn’t think you realize what you’re doing.

when make out sessions turn more intense, his lips trailing down your neck and his hands squeezing your hips that has tiny, small pants leaving your mouth.

when he gets more bold and tells you all the things he wants to do to you when you’re ready, lowly mumbled in your ear so he can pull back and see just how red and lustful you are at the thought of his head between your legs.

he didn’t wanna rush any part of your relationship in that regard.

one because he liked you, he really, really liked you and it wasn’t about that for him, and two because he just knew you hadn’t done much before and didn’t want you to feel pressured in any way.

it didn’t stop his own desires from surfacing. from him getting hard with you on top of him and jerking off to the thought of you when you two would part ways.

it’s feelings he’s trying to push down right now, your wide-eyed look staring at him as a soft, sweet smile pulls at his lips.

“and i’ll clean it for us, too,” he mumbles, his arms wrapping around your waist loosely before his eyes move to the bag - the disdain in which he looks at it could only be described as incredibly dramatic.

“once you see what it is, you’re gonna feel bad for looking at it so meanly,” you say with a swat to his chest, dangling the bag in front of his face.

his interest is peeked, a mischievous look behind his eyes that makes your cheeks flame. a soft chuckle leaves his mouth as he takes the bag from your hand, carefully taking out the festive pink and red wrapping paper.

the first thing he feels is cool metal, his hesitant gaze move toward you only to be met with a soft, encouraging smile. he rolls his eyes playfully, unveiling the gift that has his heart jumping in his chest.

it’s a framed photo of you two he’s never seen before, you smiling at the camera and him smiling at you as his arm rests around your shoulder.

he recognizes it from one of the parties he took you to a few weeks ago, the pretty red dress you wore with black tights under leaving him unable to tear his eyes away from you all night.

there’s even picture proof right in front of him, his gaze so soft and sweet on you he feels the slightest hint of an embarrassed flush on his cheeks.

“you looked so pretty that night,” he mumbles lowly, a low, short chuckle leaving his mouth that has your stomach swooping dangerously. “who took this picture?”

“who do you think?” you quip sarcastically, remembering half the night you were hiding from one particular friend with black hair and a high-pitched laugh.

“wooyoung’s stupid ass,” yeosang grumbles, his finger sliding over the cool metal of the frame.

he has a lot of pictures of loved ones and likes documenting moments with family, friends, even the people he meets once but has a great experience with. but this picture is by far his favorite, the way a smile is stretched across your face and how comfortable you look beside him.

“thank you, baby,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “i love it, my new favorite picture.”

“i wrote something on the back, too,” you tell him sweetly, cheeks warm as you watch his eyebrows pull together.

he looks at you for a few moments, smiling when your lips quirk up and you nod your head encouragingly.

when he flips it over, he sees your neat handwriting in red ink with i’s darted with hearts.

i really like you, too :) happy valentine’s day ♥

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth, cheeks turning pink as he throws his head back and looks at you fondly.

“i never said anything after you asked me out because i was too nervous and shocked,” you tell him honestly, his smile widening as he watches you speak. “so i just wanted to assure you.”

“thank you, baby,” he laughs out, placing the picture down and wrapping his arms around your waist tightly. “i’m glad you’re letting me know two months into this that you do in fact like me.”

a squeal of protest and defense tries to leave your mouth before he shakes his head, cutting you off with a kiss to your lips that you immediately meet. it’s chaste despite the way you’re in his lap, your mouths parting and his tongue licking along your bottom lip.

“your turn for a gift,” he says when he pulls back, both of you slightly breathless. “go wait on the couch.”

“but i wanna do the-”

“i’m just gonna stick them in the dish washer,” he tells you, the look in his eye proving you’re not gonna win this conversation. “just find something for us to watch, okay?”

you stare at him for a few seconds, his gaze and face unwavering causing you to let out a groan and jump off his lap. he smirks to himself as he begins to clean off the table, watching you pad over the couch to turn on the tv.

you seem comfortable in his house.

you look like you belong there and that makes his heart pound in his chest the whole time he puts the dirty dishes away.

he sneaks into his room to grab your gift before joining you, plopping down on the couch next to you and causing a tiny, surprised squeal to leave your mouth.

“you scared me!” you giggle, a quiet “sorry,” leaving his mouth as he starts to  dangle a small white bag in front of your face. your eyebrows pull together as you snap your head to him, a content, almost conniving smirk on his face.

“yeosang...”

“i never said dinner was your gift so stop looking at me like that,” he says, his hand on your cheeks squeezing them together lightly.

your lips are pushed together and pouted and he has to resist the urge to kiss them, your eyes shooting daggers into him the only thing holding him back from doing so.

you take the bag with a small sigh, your eyes softening when he smiles down at you.

your heart nearly drops when you see a small black box wrapped in the white, glittery paper, your wide eyes meeting his that makes him throw his hands up innocently.

“not an engagement ring, don’t worry.”

a snort leaves you as you hit his arm playfully, licking over your lips before opening the box with shaky hands.

the first thing you notice is the amount of diamonds.

small, sparkly diamonds in a crescent moon shape that makes your eyes widen. it’s shining under the faint light of living room, the tv blaring and candles from the table filling the room with the aroma of cotton candy and sugar - courtesy of jongho’s love for festive candles.

“yeosang...”

the gift leaves you just as speechless as it does emotional, tears pricking your eyes because while you love it and you’re so grateful, he didn’t have do this; you didn’t expect any gift from him since he cooked you dinner tonight.

“do you like it?”

“of course i like it, i love it,” you’re quick to say, the feeling in your chest the biggest indication of that. “but i didn’t need this, yeosang. it’s too much.”

“it wasn’t,” he insists with a small, half-amused pout, his hand running through your hair before caressing your cheek gently. he smiles when you lean into his touch, thumb running along your smooth skin.

“i saw it and i thought of you.”

you look from him down at the necklace in your hand, a small smile on your face at the memory.

your arms grazed as you laid out on the blanket together, the cold chill in the air bringing your bodies closer and closer together. neither of you even noticed until the warmth of other’s skin sent shockwaves through you, a blush on your cheeks and a shy smile on his face.

“this was kind of better than dinner and movie i think,” yeosang’s deep voice says, breaking the comfortable silence that’s fallen over you. you rest your chin on his chest as you look up at him, a small smile on your face as you nod your head.

“i think so too,” you say sweetly, sticking your cold hands under the blanket. “definitely the best first date.”

a soft smile crosses his face, his cold hand cupping your cheek as his gaze roams over your face. the light of the moon is the only source of light tonight, shining in your eyes with a look that’s making his heart pull in his chest.

he couldn’t tear his gaze away from you, the fascinated, content look on your face as peered up at the sky. take in the sight of shining stars and the crescent moon and the dark waves crashing on the shore.

it’s a sight that’s gonna remind him of you now. the moon and the stars and the distinct feeling of being content and at ease on the beach at night.

“good,” he says with a sense of finality, pressing a sweet, chaste peck to your lips. he smiles when you meet it back hesitantly, everything about it innocent and slow and just how he wants to pursue you.

“the moon’s gonna remind me of you now so i hope our second date goes well too.”

“our second date went well,” you mumble, toying with the necklace in your hand as you observe the amount of diamonds.

you’re almost uncomfortable at the thought of having something like this around your neck, knowing it was expensive and that you’ve never received a gift like this before.

“it did,” he says, the slightly crestfallen look on your face casing him to frown. “do you not like it? is it cheesy?”

your face falls the second you hear those words, the rapid shaking of your head causing a smile to pull at his lips.

“no! no, no, no, of course not,” you’re quick to reassure, guilt building in the pit of your stomach.

“i love it. i really, really, love it and it’s so beautiful. but i didn’t need a gift like this, yeosang. i feel bad that you got this and i got you a $15 frame with a secret picture.”

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth as he rolls his eyes, shutting you up with a kiss to your lips. his hand weaves through your hair and you make a tiny noise against it, clutching the necklace in your hand tightly.

“i wanted to get you it,” he says when he pills back, slightly breathless as he looks down at you.

“it wasn’t about the money. i love that picture and what you wrote on the back,” he teases, your eyes narrowing despite the embarrassed flush on your cheeks. “so don’t feel bad and please accept the gift, baby.”

he must see something in your eyes that shows him he won, a proud smirk on his face as he takes the necklace from your hold and brings it around your neck.

his hands graze your hair before touching the sides of your neck, the feel of his skin on yours causing you to bite down on your lip. his smirk widens as he struggles to clasp the necklace, all nervous feelings subsiding when a small giggle leaves your mouth.

“are you having a tough time?”

“no,” he grumbles, another small giggle leaving your mouth until you’re suddenly pushed down on the couch - necklace successfully on and back pressed up against the cushions.

all laughs and smiles are completely wiped off your face with the pressure of his body on yours, his smirking face above you causing your breath to quicken.

“oh? are you having a tough time now?”

he sounds so cocky and teasing, it should make you narrow your eyes. tease him with just as much of a conniving, wise-ass tone and smug look. but instead, your stomach swoops and your eyes move to his lips and like there’s a break in a dam, your mouths meet in the start of a fervent kiss.

he holds himself above you, tongue slipping in your mouth as he swallows your small, quiet moans. his hand trails itself down the side of your stomach to rest on your hip, the pressure of him and his lips on yours all consuming.

your hand travels to the back of his head, tugging lightly at the strands before a squeal leaves your mouth.

his deep chuckle rings through the quiet apartment as he lifts you up, plopping you down on his lap before connecting your lips again.

it’s the fastest you both have ever moved, your hands toying with the bottom of his shirt while his hands grasp your hips tightly. pulling your body closer to his  and moaning into his mouth when you rub against him a certain way.

you feel him smirk against your lips, pulling back every so slightly to catch the growing hint of lust and desire in your gaze.

“oh? that feel good?”

your cheeks flush at the tone of his voice, swallowing the embarrassed lump in your throat as you nod your head timidly.

“let me know when you wanna stop,” he mumbles, his words kissed along your neck making you sure you never want him to.

your mouths connect again in a fit of tongues meeting and bodies crashing, foreign feelings of arousal coursing through your veins. you guys always took things slow but you were never sure why - if he was doing it for you or if he just didn’t wanna do that step.

but you were secretly even hoping tonight, you’d be able to go further.

that’s why when his hands trail along the bottom of your shirt, warm fingers dipping under to touch your skin, you move into him even more. pulling back to look at him through hooded eyes as you nod your head.

you don’t even have the time to feel apprehensive when you’re sitting there in just a lace bra, exposed and slightly cold with goosebumps on your skin, because yeosang’s quick to assure you.

look at you with a soft, sweet fascination and tell you how beautiful you look for him.

both your shirts hit the living room floor before he’s scooping you up, a surprised squeal leaving your mouth that brings a smile to his face.

he plops you down on the bed shoved in the right corner of the room, clothes littering the floor and a mess of wires near the desk. it’s a little messy but it smells surprisingly clean, like a mix of cologne and yeosang’s natural teakwood scent.

“we don’t have to do this,” he says, his body looming above yours.

because you guys really don’t have to do this, he’d be perfectly content watching movies tonight with an inkling of kissing or touching, but, fuck, does he want to.

he’s wanted to hear you moan and touch you and taste you since you both started dating. since he looked at you under the stars and knew he’d fall for you shortly after.

“i want to,” you confess, a soft blush on your cheeks as you look up at him,

he rolls his tongue over his lips, biting down every so slightly in a way that makes your lower stomach tighten in desire. the look in his eyes is too much, it’s nothing you’ve ever seen before. like he wants to-”

“i want to ruin you,” he mumbles, bending down to press a peck on your neck. “i won’t do it tonight,” he continues, trailing his lips down your chest before bringing his hand to the lace.

his finger traces the red material, sliding one of the straps down before tugging down your bra. his eyes move to your nipple, hardening in the cold air as he feels his cock do the same.

“i’m gonna be slow and gentle and so good to you, baby,” he says, his hot breath fanning over your exposed boob. his lips are so close to touching your skin, the warmth and wetness bringing tingles to your skin.

“i only ask that you moan for me, okay?” he mumbles, his tongue swiping across your nipple causing a choked, strangled gasp to leave you. you feel him smirk against your skin and can’t even be embarrassed by it, just wanting more of him and more of the pleasure he’ll give you.

“doesn’t seem like that’s gonna be a problem though, pretty girl,” he chuckles out, mouth closing around your nipple again as his hands trail down your side.

every sensation seems heightened and overwhelming, completely aware of how heavy your breathing is and the building pit of desire in your stomach. desire that heightens when his hand ghosts past your pants, his middle finger tracing small circles through your leggings.

he can feel your legs widen and a smirk crosses his face, sucking at your nipple once more before pulling back and meeting your lips. you moan at the feeling of his fingers moving quicker, a strangled “yeosang, please,” catching you off guard as much as him.

but it seems to get things in to motion - because your leggings are done and your skin hits the cold air a few moments later, yeosang tugging his shirt over his head before his hands are back on you.

you’re laying beside him, head resting on his bare chest when he slips his hand in your underwear. rubbing quick, skilled circles on your clit as your breathing labors and you whine into the air.

“have you ever been touched like this before, baby?” he mumbles, a shake of your head causing him to stop his movements all together. you whine at the loss of pleasure, looking at him with glossy, confused eyes that makes him hold back a smile.

he likes seeing how desperate you got. how ready and willing and eager you are for him.

“have you ever been touched like this?” he repeats, a croaked whine of “no,” leaving your mouth that makes him smile. continue his blissful strokes on your clit as a finger slowly enters you.

you’re so wet that you welcome the stretch with a moan of pleasure, a deeply grumbled “fuck,” causing your eyes to roll back when he hesitantly adds another.

“you’re so wet, baby. you’re so fucking wet for me.”

you nod dumbly, not being able to find the words as his pointer and middle curl  and he fucks you with his fingers. you moan his name when the pleasure becomes too much, wanting to scream when he suddenly removes his hand from you.

you watch through hooded eyes as he tugs your underwear down with his teeth, his mouth pulled into a smirk until they’re only just past your upper thighs.

because like he’s so eager and can’t wait, like he’s been waiting for this moment since he knew you were gonna be okay with it, he looks down at your bare, soaked pussy with a look of hunger you’ve never seen before.

“let me eat you out,” he says, his words choked out and tone deep and strangled. “please, baby, can i?”

his voice sounds as desperate as you feel and you have to sit up so you can crash your lips on his, the overwhelming need to kiss him coming over you. he meets it back immediately, sloppy, open-mouthed kisses and tongues until you pull back and tell me “please.”

his tongue brings you to your first orgasm, your thighs shaking between his head as your hand runs through his black hair desperately.

when his cock springs free, he circles it around your entrance and enters you slowly. sweet, soft spoken words of “it’s okay,” and “you’re doing so good, angel,” that make the whole experience that much better.

you feel full and he feels so good inside you, both your moans ringing through the air and the smell of sex in the room until he’s coming in you. hips bucking and slamming quickly to follow his high before he flicks your clit a few times to bring you to your second orgasm of the night.

you both lay there after, naked and panting, before he’s up and getting a warm, wet rag. there’s a slight sting but it makes you feel incredibly love and vulnerable, watching as he cleans between your legs with a sweet, gentleness and diligence.

“was that okay?” he mumbles in your hair, the faint scent of sweat and perfume on your skin. you only mumble and nod against him but he needs to see your face in this moment.

see that this was just as amazing and fulfilling for you as it was for him.

and when he meets your gaze, his thumb under your chin to meet his eyes, he can see it was. in your glossy eyes and shy smile and pink cheeks that makes him wanna kiss you all over again.

“it was good. really good,” you confess quietly, a small deep chuckle leaving his mouth as he moves a sweaty stand of hair behind your ear.

“yeah? really good?” he teases, eyebrow quirked as he pecks a playful kiss on your cheek. “just how good?”

your blush intensifies as you hide your face in his chest, his laugh mumbled against your head as you feel his lips press against your head.

you two eventually venture back into the living room after a few more kisses and wandering hands, plopping on the couch fully dressed and cuddled into one another when there’s a commotion right outside the apartment door.

the both of you turn to see the seven other boys barreling through in a drunken, sloppy daze, yunho holding mingi and jongho up while hongjoong holds san and wooyoung. seonghwa follows behind with an annoyed expression, meeting yeosang’s gaze that screams you will pay for this.

“what the hell happened?”

“single people drank for free,” hongjoong says, watching as the four drunken idiots either collapse onto the floor or stumble into the kitchen; seonghwa follows quickly behind, because as much disdain as he has, he doesn’t wanna see anyone light themselves on fire.

“so you could only imagine how that went. i don’t even know how many peanut butter and jelly shots san and wooyoung had.”

“that is so disgusting,” yeosang says, your head nodding against his chest because “i’m sorry, but that kind of is. maybe you guys should have some water now.”

“it was good, y/n!” jongho whines, throwing himself down next to you and yeosang. he slumps against the arm of the couch, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before his eyes shoot open.

you and yeosang watch as he does so, quickly rising from the couch and sniffing like a police dog in front of a bag of drugs.

“the fuck’s your problem?”

“who lit my cotton candy candle?!” the boy yelps, taking one whiff of the air and being positive he’d know that smell anywhere. “and why does it barely mask the smell of sex?!”

your eyes widen and a deep, red blush overcomes you, a growl leaving yeosang at the same time hongjoong comes over and tugs the boy up by his arm. the smaller boy throws you an apologetic look as he escorts jongho to his room, yeosang’s arm tightening around you as you hide yourself in his chest.

“does it really? i don’t smell anything.”

yeosang bites down on his lip so he doesn’t start laughing, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he shakes his own for your own peace of mind.

“no, baby. it’s fine. he’s just a drunk idiot.”

april - freshmen year

maybe it was because you guys started out so strong.

with great communication and constant assurance that kept you both aware of each other’s feelings.

you knew when he was feeling unsure about your quietness, wondering if it was something he did or if you just weren’t feeling good that day.

he knew when you were feeling overwhelmed, realizing just how different you two were the longer you were together. how he was just so outgoing and charismatic and extroverted and you just... weren’t.

how now that they honeymoon phase was over, stupid little arguments would break out. about what to do on the weekend, about where to eat, about staying in to study versus going to a cafe on campus.

they weren’t even real fights but it was enough to make you see a change in you guys. enough to see that, maybe, one day, this was gonna be a problem and you two would have to overcome it or let it ruin something good.

“we’re having seonghwa’s birthday party at the house tonight,” he tells you during your study session, another argument he won by bribing you with hot chocolate and sugar cookies at a local cafe.

you look up from your work and nod your head, a small smile on your face at the thought of seonghwa and the others.

you’ve gotten a lot closer to all of them over the past few months, even seonghwa who took a little bit longer to come out of his shell. but now that you talked to him you saw how nice and funny he was.

how he comes across as scary and standoffish but, really, is one of the most loyal and observant friends in the room.

he always knows when people are uncomfortable or have had too much of someone or something for the night - you watched him physically separate wooyoung and san when the both had too much alcohol and were getting snippy with each other.

his presence brings a comfort over you that you can’t quite explain. maybe because it seems like he’s kind of like you - quiet and shy and doesn’t like being the center of attention.

which is why you’re shocked in the first place he even agreed to a party.

“oh, he didn’t,” yeosang says, a smirk on his face as he thinks back to the night they all gave him an ultimatum. “but it was the lesser evil that we gave him so he agreed.”

“oh?” you quip, eyebrow raised as you play footsie under the table. “and what was it? making a restaurant sing him happy birthday?”

a wide smirk crosses yeosang face as he nods, a giggle leaving your mouth as you smack his arm lightly.

“you guys are bad.”

“eh, he’s dramatic,” he says, your gaze dropping back down to your work.

he’s said that a few times when you tell him a restaurant or bar is too crowded. when you’re at one of his sister’s house parties and the beer pong table is becoming far too overwhelmingly and crowded for your liking.

it’s always in a joking manner, him whisking you away despite others’ groans of protests, but it still secretly makes you a little sad.

“i actually have to go help them set up in a bit,” he says, your neck snapping up to him again. he sees your eyebrows pull together and reaches across the table, his hand on your arm rubbing you assuringly.

“what’s that face for?”

“nothing, i just...” you let out a sigh as you look down at your lap, feeling silly and stupid and perhaps dramatic. “you’re the one who wanted to come here and now you’re leaving. i could’ve just stayed at my room.”

“yeah but then i wouldn’t have fed you,” he says, reaching over to peck your nose sweetly. “i’ll pick you up at 7:45, baby.”

you can’t even say anything before he’s up and out the door, a heavy sigh leaving your mouth as you watch him walk to his car. he turns around and waves, a small smile on your face as you wave back and watch him drive away.

you try not to think about it as you get your work done, faintly aware of the growing population in the cafe and the raising altitude of voices. a group of five take the spot next to you and that successfully gets you ready to sprint out the door.

it’s all good sounds, laughter and squeals and chipper voices, but it’s still too much for you. the sounds and the crowds and the overwhelmingly desire to just be in a peaceful quiet by yourself.

that is until a familiar voice, deep and low and calming, brings you out of your panic before it can even start.

“y/n?”

you look up to see a head of dirty blonde hair, seonghwa clad in dark leather and converse as he makes his way over to you.

“oh. hi, seonghwa,” you say, voice quiet and slightly breathless.

his eyes remain on you for a few seconds too long, gaze carefully roaming your  face before he makes his way over to the table. he sees your books and pens splayed out messily, a smirk on his face as he meets your eyes again.

“the semester just started, how do you have all this shit to do already?”

“believe me, i’m wondering the same thing,” you wince, his quiet chuckle causing a smile to light up your face. “what are you doing here?”

“getting a coffee. i slept like shit last night.”

“did wooyoung keep you up?”

“of course he did, the annoying fuck,” he grumbles, his eyes rolling and face pulled in disdain causing you to giggle. “speaking of which, where’s yeosang?”

seonghwa can count on his hands how many times he’s seen you two without each other.

“he left like an hour ago actually,” you say, seeing the time on your phone is 5:00 before your voice turns teasing and you raise your eyebrows playfully.

“he’s getting your party ready.”

seonghwa’s face pulls into on of confusion, your smile dropping as a guilty, sinking feeling builds in your stomach - yeosang didn’t tell you it was a surprise.

“oh no.”

“those annoying fucks, i swear to god,” seonghwa growls lowly, your eyes widening and lips pulling into a frown. “guess i can’t go home tonight.”

“i’m sorry, seonghwa, they didn’t tell me it was a surprise,” you whine quietly, looking up to meet his tight, dark gaze. “they said it was either that or a restaurant sang to you and you went with the party.”

“i told them that one was worse, not that i wanted a party.”

your frown deepens as you sink in your seat, your hands toying nervously on the table. seonghwa’s eyes fall to them and he lets out a sigh, eyes moving to the chair before he plops down in his seat.

a silence hangs between you both, as silent as it could be in a bustling, crowded cafe. you look up to see him watching your hands, quickly pulling them apart and smiling when he meets your gaze.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to spoil it,” you say, “but i don’t think they’re inviting that many people. yeosang usually tells me when parties are gonna be really crowded, so they’ll probably only be like twenty people.”

“yeah, well, that’s eleven too many.”

you press your lips together as you watch him, his neck rolling back and adams apple bobbing.

you can feel the table beside you watch, are sure the whole cafe has been watching since the moment he walked in. you’re not blind to the fact that seonghwa is unbearably attractive, slicked back dirty blonde hair and large stature that draws attention anywhere he goes.

for as long as you’ve known him though, you’ve never seen him bring girls around. or even mention a girl. he always just keeps to himself and his friends - and now you, you suppose, after months of trying and trying.

“i guess this is why they said we’re having a roommate meeting at 8:00.”

you send him a sympathetic smiling, assuring him that it won’t be that bad and you’ll be able to get through it together.

“i sometimes wonder how you’re able to put up with it,” you tell him honestly, thinking back to all the times you’ve watched him and his roommates. “they’re all so crazy and extroverted and.... loud.”

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth as he nods his head, rising from the chair and looking down at you.

“years of practice and selective hearing,” he says, a giggle leaving your mouth as you nod your head. you don’t think anything of the way his gaze lingers on you, sending a small smile his way before he speaks again.

“so you’ll be there tonight?”

“yes! yeosang’s picking me up at 7:45 so i should probably get going too,” you say, closing your textbooks and getting your pens together.

“i’ll order my coffee and then walk you back to your dorm.”

“oh no, seonghwa, it’s okay, i-”

but before you can protest any further, he’s turned around and waiting in line to place an order for his coffee. you let out a sigh as you pack up your books, securing it on your shoulder before meeting him at the register.

the cashier is just as mesmerized as she is disappointed when she sees you stand next to him, dropping her flirtier smile for a polite one.

“your order will be right out sir.”

he nods his head as you guys go to the waiting area, standing side by side in silence before you turn to look with a smirk on your face.

“sir?”

“you can walk home in the dark, how ‘bout that?”

a giggle leaves your mouth as you shrug, insisting you didn’t even ask him to walk you home in the first place. he only rolls his eyes before his name is called, grabbing the hot coffee as you follow behind in amusement.

the walk to your dorm is only a few minutes, you and seonghwa walking in a comfortable silence as you walk through the campus. snow from last week’s storm rests on the trees in a picturesque manner, a slight chill in the air that causes you to shiver.

“are you gonna act surprised?”

seonghwa looks over at you as you walk, his arm clumsily bumping into yours as you walk through the slushy, dirty snow - it goes seemingly unnoticed by both of you, arms accidentally grazing for a few seconds before disconnecting as you walk.

he just shrugs and remains quiet, slipping back into the dismissive and intimidating person he once seemed to be. you don’t even think he realizes he comes off like that, just has this look that screams do not look or talk to me.

you stop in front of your dorm a few moments later, turning around tot meet seonghwa who looms over you. he wears a blank, unreadable expression until you smile up at him, thanking him again for walking you and that you’ll see him in a few hours.

“no problem, couldn’t let yeosang’s girl walk alone,” he says, gaze lingering on you for the third time. you've noticed him do this to everyone though, watch and observe to a point where you think he knows things people don’t know about themselves.

“and i’ll act surprised, tonight. won’t let it slip that you ruined my birthday.”

“yeosang didn’t tell me that it was a sur- wait. is today your real birthday?”

his eyebrow quirks up sarcastically, a smile pulling at his lips as he looks at you.

"why would they throw me a birthday party if it wasn’t my birthday?”

an embarrassed flush crosses your cheeks as an awkward giggle bubbles out of your mouth.

“i just thought because it was the weekend or something,” you stutter out, “happy birthday, seonghwa.”

“thanks, y/n,” he smiles, eyes softening every so slightly before he nods his head toward the building. “go in. it’s cold. i’ll see you later.”

“bye,” you say, sending a small wave his way before turning around and disappearing into your dorm building.

if you didn’t know any better, you’d think seonghwa was an award winning actor.  

because when the party of 30 (just ten over what you predicted) screamed “happy birthday seonghwa!” in the pitch darkness, a miscalculation mingi and the light switch, he seemed genuinely surprised.

or, at least, as surprised as his face could express when he turned on the lights.

his eyes were wide and his eyebrow was quirked, a look of disdain throw at his friends who were huddled in the front and clapping excitedly.

“happy birthday hwa!”

“we got you, bitch!”

“wear this happy birthday hat!”

he whacked the red hat right out of jongho’s head, growling at him to not push it in a way that makes you hold back a laugh. he catches your eye and smiles at you, mouthing “good enough?” that has you nodding happily.

the house party picks up almost immediately after seonghwa’s arrival, music blaring and drinking games starting and a loud, pleasant chatter that your boyfriend thrives off of.

guides you around by the small of your back and introduces you to people you’re sure you’ve met before but just don’t recognize you; regardless, you’re polite.

smile at people and say hello before falling into the silence of watching yeosang and stranger after stranger talk. even someone he doesn’t know, like the friend of a friend or significant other of a friend, he talks to like he’s known them forever.

he just connects with people so easily and a part of you is truly envious of it.

“i just don’t get how you do it,” you whine to him on the couch, the same alcoholic beverage in hand (you think yeosang said it’s a rum and coke) that you humored him with when the party started.

“i just talk, baby, what do you mean?” he laughs out, you sitting on his lap as he takes a swig of his beer.

“i know but so easily,” you mumble. “and you don’t see awkward or scared or anything. what if you guys lapse into a silence? or don’t know what to talk about?”

“silence isn’t bad, though, we sit in silence sometimes. and there are always things to talk about.”

like the person walking around with jongho’s array of candles, making the drunk boy run after him and fight off people trying to sniff them.

or the incredibly competitive and entertaining game of flip cup, one side far superior than the other and completely demolishing them.

or like how the birthday boy, the reason why eveyone’s gathered here today and having fun, hasn’t gotten his ass off the couch since he walked through the door.

“i didn’t ask for these people to be here,” seonghwa growls when he hears yeosang talking shit, throwing a dirty look his way as he tosses a pillow at him. “you idiots did that all on your own.”

“and aren’t you happy we did? now you have a bunch of gifts.”

the blank stare seonghwa has shows he could not give less of a fuck about the pile of cards in his room right now, politely thanking the guests who were nice enough to actually bring them and not just their drunken presence.

“we should’ve taken your grouchy ass to a restaurant so they could’ve-”

“yeosang, bro! please come here! we need you!”

the voice belonged to a guy from your class named yeonjun. he had pink hair and was very similiar to your boyfriend, charismatic and friendly in such a gravitating, almost unnatural way.

he also apparently sucked at flip cup.

“it’s not my fault you suck,” he yells from over the couch, loud groans of protest and upset coming from the table.

“c’mon yeosang! please!”

“we need you!”

“leave your hot girlfriend and get over here now!”

yeosang looks to you to see a flustered blush on your cheeks, a deep chuckle leaving his mouth as he pecks one the pink skin.

“can i go, baby?” he mumbles quietly, squeezing your waist every so slightly. “they’re really desperate and need me.”

your lips purse together as you look over your boyfriend, the slight pout and look in his eye causing you to sigh. he knows then that he won, again, the way he usually does these days, and lifts you off his lap.

he presses another kiss to your head before he’s off, loud, happy shouts of excitement causing you to crane your neck back. he does the weird boy hand shake-hug before the game starts up, turning back to see seonghwa sitting across from you on the other couch.

“having fun birthday boy?”

“no,” he answers immediately, dryly, in a way that brings a big smile to your face. “how ‘bout you?”

“it’s okay,” you shrug, curling your legs under you as he rest on the couch more comfortably. “i hope the cake is good.”

“i don’t like cake.”

he’s never seen someone’s eyes widen as much as yours do in that very moment, a small, short chuckle leaving his mouth at your expression.

“what?”

“how do you not like cake?” you squeal.

if there’s one thing you could eat in this world, dietary and nutritional values aside, it would be chocolate cake.

“i just don’t like it, it’s too like sweet and sugary. and if it’s chocolate, that’s even worse.”

the pillow he threw at yeosang flies through the air and hits him back in the face, only your smug, disturbed expression staring back at his shocked one. it would usually make you laugh, the look on his face, but you’re truly just so disturbed - how is there not gonna be cake at a birthday party?

“how could you not like chocolate cake of all the cakes!” you squeal

“did you just throw a pillow at me on my birthday?”

“i mean like carrot cake or fruit cake i get. those are kind of gross and only certain people like them. but chocolate cake? it’s loved by almost every-”

like a game of monkey in the middle, with no monkey, the battered throw pillow flies through the air again and just misses your face; whether he did that on purpose or accidentally is no one’s business.

you and seonghwa stare at one another, eyes narrowed and faces slightly red, completely unaware to the party around you until you’re the one who cracks. put your hand to your mouth and start laughing hysterically.

not a cute giggle or breathy chuckle but a big, hearty, real laugh.

he’s never heard you like this before, probably because he’s only spent a little bit of time with you, but it makes him smile even more. the sound of your laugh and innocent happiness is contagious, his deeply mumbled “stop,” so obviously fake due to the the smile tugging at his lips.

you eventually moved onto the couch beside him, hitting him closer with the pillow before plopping down next to him. talking to him and being next to him made you forget about the party.

not because he was handsome or because you liked him - you loved yeosang and were dating him.

you just enjoyed being able to relate to someone. loved sitting there with someone who didn’t just wanna drink or get high or dance. who was able to be there in silence or talk about nonsense while being surrounded by the chaotic energy of a party.

so much so that you don’t even realize your own boyfriend left you for half the night. not once coming over to check on you or see if you were dong okay until it was time for the cake seonghwa wasn’t even gonna eat.

“i’m sorry, baby, i got caught up with the game,” he mumbled, his arms wound tightly around your waist. you shake your head against his chest, assuring him that it’s okay as he tickles your neck with soft pecks from his lips.

the night ended with yeosang getting so drunk, you had to put him to bed. it wasn’t something you minded, you’ve done this a few times before, but for whatever reason tonight it made something build in the pit of your stomach.

like you already knew tonight something in the future was gonna change because of parties, yeosang’s extroverted ways and seonghwa’s lingering eyes that everyone but you three notice.  

july:

you end the semester with all a’s, an excuse to not return home for the summer and a strained relationship.

it seemed like it happened slowly and then all at once.

there was the time at seonghwa’s party where you thought nothing of it. he was occupied and, luckily, so were you. he left you but went back smiling and affectionate, pressing kisses to your skin and mumbling about how beautiful you looked.

but then it started happening more.

at his sister’s parties where he knew you were uncomfortable.

at frat parties where you were even more uncomfortable.

even at his own house, when the boys had a few people over and they were playing video games while getting high.

it was always seonghwa who kept you company, the two of you in the same room as them but seemingly on a different planet. sitting beside one another observing the party and sharing snide, sneaky comments about others.

how it seemed as if there was some turmoil between mingi and yunho, the way they were ignoring each other and sharing looks back and forth when the other wasn’t looking.

how wooyoung and hongjoong’s frat boys friends didn’t seem to get along in the slightest, the boys always sneering at him when he laughed too loud or teased them too much.

how yeosang was so consumed by the limelight, talking and laughing and making jokes, that he seemed to have forgotten you exist.

“i don’t think he realizes he does it, y/n,” seonghwa assured you one night, the end of the semester coming to a close and allowing you all to relax.

it’d been a hard and stressful first year but there’d also been a lot of fun. a lot of making new relationships that you know will last a lifetime and a lot of things you learned about yourself through all of these experiences.

it’d also been one of the happiest times of your life thanks to yeosang, the boy you fell for so hard and so fast despite all your fears and reservations.

you’re still happy now, even with the bumps. because you think, you hope, that you guys could get through them.

“he’s always been like that. very social and in the middle of a group. people are always drawn to him.”

seonghwa’s not surprised that you were drawn to him. yeosang’s always had something about him that people flock to, men and women alike; but you were the first he’s truly fell for.

reciprocated feelings for and truly cared about their well being and them as a person.

“i don’t think he’s trying to hurt you. that’s just how he is.”

“he’s not hurting me.”

because through all of this, through him ignoring you and neglecting him and seemingly blowing off your feelings because they’re silly and unrelatable to him, you’re trying to convince yourself he’s not.

that you really are just being silly and dramatic about all of this.

that even though you go these outings for him, despite detesting them more than anything, and he keeps leaving you alone, you’re not hurt by it; but seonghwa can see through it.

and whether it’s because you guys are so alike or because he’s so annoyingly observant, you’re not sure. you just know that he looks at you with a soft, sympathetic disbelief that causes the ever growing lump in your throat to grow bigger.

“y/n...”

“he’s really not, seonghwa,” you mumble, words hushly spoken as you watch yeosang carefully; you know if he sees you looking upset, he’s gonna come over.

he’ll stop whatever he’s doing or whatever conversation he’s having and it’s because of that you can’t be upset. because he still loves you and cares for you.

you just have to stop being so dramatic and silly.

when you say that to seonghwa, the very words that come from your boyfriend’s mouth, you watch his face change completely. become harder and harsher as he looks to yeosang, jaw ticking as he pops his neck to the side.

“whatever you say, y/n,” he mumbles. “i just don’t want you guys having problems over this. he loves you, y/n.”

he asked you to stay with him for the summer a few days before classes ended, unsure if you’d be able to but wanting to ask because “my parents are gonna be away for the summer,” he said to you suddenly, both of you laying naked in your dorm.

you craned your neck up to look at him, sweat glistening on his face and chest making him handsome even then.  

“are you scared to be in the house all alone?”

he rolls his eyes playfully, bopping you on the nose lightly before pulling you on top of him. the blankets lay around you messily, your core under his flaccid dick that just ripped several orgasms through you.

“very. i’m gonna be very scared and need you with me. i truthfully might not even survive,” he drones on, resting his hands on your hips as you roll your eyes at him.

you ponder over it as you sit on top of him, biting down on your lip in a way that causes him to tighten his hold and roll your hips over him just a little bit. you ignore him and his horny ways the way you’ve learned to, thinking it all over before realizing it might be good for you guys.

you don’t know if he’s noticed the slight disconnect, it could just be you living in your head all the time, but you think spending time together would be good. would remind you of how you felt with him when you first started dating and he always made sure you were his number one priority.

you want some of that again. you want him to notice when you’re upset or uncomfortable and go out of his way to help you in a crowd, even if it’s just for a moment.

you want to feel like if it came down to you, his friends and the parties or you, that he’d pick you each and every time.

the first few weeks of summer felt as if you were getting that.

you spent a lot of your time longing around his house. playing in his pool and watching movies outside and having sex on nearly every surface, you were surprised to be able to walk.

but all of that quickly stopped when everyone else was home from college.

when his hometown became just one big reunion, people from his high school and neighboring colleges getting together the one way college kids knew - house parties with kegs and loud music.

it seemed as if every few days, you guys were going out.

you and yeosang and all of his friends meeting up with different groups and different houses and having the time of your lives late into the summer nights.

the stuffy houses and sleazy bars definitely weren’t your scene but yeosang, per usual, thrived.

he more often than not would leave you after the first hour, making sure you were with seonghwa or hongjoong or yunho before going off to drink or mingle with his friends.

he’d check on you periodically but it almost seemed as if he felt obligated to.

pressing a kiss to your cheek or holding you by the waist to ask if you needed another drink or wanted to play beer pong; but it was always the same answer every time.

a polite no with a fake smile on your lips that he left with a parting kiss before disappearing back into the crowd.

it was getting old and you knew he was starting to feel the disconnect too, the more hazy summer days that passed, but you both ignored it. because the times at his house were nice, you almost felt normal.

kissing and cuddling and talking as you ate.

but you knew that would all fade away eventually.

when there more were people who weren’t just you or his friends and craved something more exciting than just staying in and hanging out.

talk of a beach bonfire weekend had, admittedly, peaked your interest.

it was different than the stuffy houses or sleazy bars you’ve gotten used to over these past few weeks of summer.

now, you got to go to the beach and rent a nice house right by the ocean. be with yeosang and his friends and the people you got to know in a much more tropical and romantic setting.

you drove up with yeosang, yunho and mingi in the latter boy’s jeep, you and yeosang in the back as wind whipped through your hair. you giggle anytime your hair smacks him in the face, eventually being pulled into his chest to stop the assault from happening on his face.

his heartbeat is calming under your ear, his arms wrapped tightly around your body as him and the two boys in front talk over the plans for the weekend.

you’re blissfully unaware of it as you remain close to his body, warm and sticky in the humid air but not caring.

because even despite your problems and disconnect, you still want him near you. you still find comfort in him and you still want to feel loved by him.

“how does that sound?” you hear yeosang mumble in your ear, his breath tickling your skin causing you to hum against him.

“how does what sound?”

“did you fall asleep?” he asks teasingly, nudging you playfully until your faces are a few inches from each other. “i asked if you wanna go on a date tonight when we get there.”

a happy smile crosses your face as you nod eagerly, one breaking out on his too before he places a soft kiss on your lips.

you’re buzzing with a silent excitement the rest of the ride, your hand is his as you play with his fingers and he smiles at you ever so often. holding hands always felt right between you two, like they were made to fit perfectly and acted as a way to ground you both.

your hands stay intertwined when you get to the house, a giant 8-bedroom mansion on the beach that cost you half of your savings - but the view is making it seem worth it.

the waves crashing just a few feet from the back door and causing everyone to storm out of their cars to fight for the best room.

“i want the balcony, please for the love of god! i will do all the dishes during this trip if you guys let me have it.”

“that’s such bullshit,” hongjoong complains, calling wooyoung out on a deal he knows he definitely won’t abide by; but after much nearly 30 minutes of whining and a written contract stuck to the fridge, it was decided.

wooyoung gets the room with the balcony in exchange for dishes duty, a fair exchange you think given the view.

your and yeosang’s room is the one next to wooyoung, an en-suite and beautiful view of the ocean outside the floor to ceiling windows. your standing there watching the waves crash, bags at your feet and content smile on your face when yeosang wraps his arms around you from behind.

you giggle when he presses his lips to your neck, turning in his hold to immediately meet his for a kiss. it feels like you miss him even though you see him everyday. even though you’ve fallen asleep and woken up next to him for over a month.

“what do you wanna eat tonight?” he mumbles against your lips, pulling back to look at you with a smile on his face and a playful twinge in his eyes. you cock your head to the side as you look up him, shrugging your shoulders because it really doesn’t matter.

you’re just excited for your date.

“i don’t care, i’ll have anything.”

“we’ll find a place then,” he says, pulling you closer to him in a way you already know means something. “you wanna shower before we go?”

“why? do i smell?” you tease, a smirk on his face as he pulls you toward the bathroom wordlessly.

and lucky for both of you, there was a very convenient bench in the shower that had you in there until the mirror was foggy and the water ran cold.

“can you bring us back food?” mingi whined, yeosang rolling his eyes as he caught the boy’s car keys.

“as long as you eat in on plates so wooyoung has to wash the dishes.”

“hey!”

“deal.”

a smile spreads across your face as you wave goodbye to all the boys, wearing a pretty new dress you’ve been wanting to wear for weeks. yeosang takes your hand and interlaces your fingers together, shouts of “bye” and “have fun lovebirds,” echoing through the house.

the restaurant is right on the beach with outdoor seating, twinkle lights lining the space with the quiet chatter of people and gentle crash of waves. you and yeosang are play footsie under the table as you look over the menu, shy smiles and coy narrowed eyes beuing thrown at each other.

it’s been a while since things have felt this natural and easy between you two but you think you both needed it. the casual conversation, the airy chuckles and giggles, the warm feeling in the middle of your chest when you catch him looking at you lovingly.

“you look beautiful, baby. are you excited for this weekend?”

a faint blush covers your cheeks as you look up at him, twirling the spaghetti on your fork as you nod your head.

“yeah. we’re going to the beach tomorrow, right?”

“yeah,” he says, popping a piece of steak into his mouth. “and then we’re gonna meet changbin and them at a bar. his friend’s parents own it so we’ll be able to get in.”

“oh... okay,” you hum after a few seconds, quietly picking at our food and feeling yeosang’s eyes on you.

“what?”

you look up and meet his gaze, the sweet, softness gone and replaced with something you’re not quite able to make out. you feel nerves in the pit of your stomach, taking a deep breath before you plaster a smile on your face.

“nothing. that’ll be fun.”

“you think?” he asks, eyebrow quirked and a happy smile on his face; he was hoping you liked going out and meeting his friends more. he loves showing you off and having you by his side but in the beginning, it always seemed like you didn’t wanna be there.

he’s happy you’re coming around to it now, wanting his girlfriend by his side and having fun with him too.

“yeah,” you lie through your teeth, the smile on your face a complete contrast to your feelings inside.

when did he stop knowing when your smile was fake? or thinking that you actually wanted to go out? couldn’t he see all the time you were pushing yourself to be there for him, just for him to leave you alone?

“i think we’ll have fun,” you lie again, having a terrible feeling that this weekend getaway might be the thing that breaks you and yeosang completely.

because your relationship is already fragile and neither of you are acknowledging it. you just keep kissing and giggling and playing footsie under the table, looking like the perfect couple you truly once were in the beginning.

friday morning it seemed as if maybe things were gonna be okay.

you woke up to yeosang kissing your face, forehead to cheek to cheek to nose until he peppered them down your neck and a tired whine left you. he smiled against your skin, his lowly mumbled ,”good morning, baby,” making your stomach flutter first thing.

the moment was quickly over, open mouthed kisses and his tongue slipping past yours, when wooyoung and mingi bursted through the door, dramatic yelps leaving them as they ran out covering each other’s eyes.

“i cannot believe you kiss him in the morning,” wooyoung said an hour later, all eight of you walking down to the beach.

the cooler was packed and ready, fully prepared for a day in the sun and pregaming for the bar later tonight.

“why?” you ask, a smile pulling at your lips at the look of disgust on his face.

“multiple reasons but his breath being the first! isn’t it disgusting? there’s no way he doesn’t wake up with rank breath, y/n, i just don’t believe it.”

an arm wraps around your waist from behind, your boyfriend’s hand craning your face back so he can peck another long, lingering kiss on your mouth; wooyoung’s gags in the back cause you to smile against him.

“you better be careful talking about rank breath,” yeosang says when he pulls away, eyes right on wooyoung who’s wearing a look of shock and hurt.

“i don’t have bad breath.”

“i can smell you right now. did you even bring a toothbrush?”

“he actually didn’t,” jongho quips, wooyoung’s head snapping toward his as you and yeosang suppress your laughter - one of you better than the other.

“it’s all he kept talking about in the car. sick fuck even asked to use to mine but that is just too-”

“oh wow, look at the waves! c’mon, y/n, you said you wanted to play in them!”

wooyoung grabs your hand before you’re able to say anything, giggling as he drags you down the hot sand. you throw down your bag and look back at yeosang with a smile, his hand waving you off as he picks up your belongings.

mingi and san join you both a few minutes later, the water making your feet numb in the wet sand.

you don’t know how long it takes all four of you to fully immerse yourself in the water - at least thirty minutes if you had to guess. but once you got in, you guys didn’t wanna get out.

the waves were harsh and crashed down on you viscously but that was part of the fun. diving into the water and letting the salt water soak up into your skin and hair. it was even better that there was no gross seaweed, the four of you attempting to play toothpaste despite the major difficulty.

but with how much time past, pruny fingers and soaked hair, you didn’t expect the others to already be shit-faced. it was barely noon and you could tell immediately that yeosang, hongjoong and jongho were well on there way to getting obliterated tonight.

you have sinking suspicions it’s because changbin and his friends are also here; and when their two friend groups are together, nothing could comes of it.

they’re all fun and sweet and care for one another but they also build off of each other - enable each other’s young, college drinking habits and rowdy behavior.

“b-baby, c’mere,” yeosang slurs when he sees you, wrapping you up in a towel and pulling you on his lap.

you land on his lap with a plop, smiling and saying hello to the others. you can smell the alcohol on yeosang’s breath but he’s always in good spirits. always laughing and smiling and making jokes that, usually, his drinking isn’t a problem.

it’s not something you particularly enjoy or can relate to but he’s never been a  mean drunk.

not until today.

“you look really good today, you know that?” he mumbles lowly in your ear, the new, red bikini you brought clinging to your body in all the right ways. you were slightly embarrassed to wear it today but decided to go for it because you thought you looked nice in it and spent $70 on it.

you looked up at him with an embarrassed flush on your cheeks, elbowing him lightly as he wraps his arms around your waist. his fingers toy with the edge of your bikini under the towel, your eyes widening when you feel what he’s trying to do.

“yeosang,” you whisper harshly, keeping your voice low but firm as you smack his hand over the towel.

“what,” he whines lowly, eyes roaming the area to see everyone either going to the water or chatting amongst themselves. “you’re covered, baby. i wouldn’t let anyone see what’s mine.”

“are you crazy,” you whisper as you peek your face up at him. “we’re already drinking underage on the beach yeosang. you can’t finger me in public either.”

“who said i was gonna finger you?” he mumbles, a smirk on his face and teasing in his voice; but you don’t find this funny. you don’t find him being this drunk and touchy at noon is funny. “you’re getting ahead of yourself now, baby.”

“why are you getting this drunk at noon, yeosang? we’re going out tonight too, unfortunately.”

“unfortunately?” he asks, craning his neck down to look at you. “i thought you were excited.”

“i was so excited for the beach,” you tell him quietly. “i thought you would come in the ocean with us.”

because you wanted to spend that time with him. have the jeuvnile fun you used to have when you’d go on drives to the beach at night and freeze your asses off on the sand.

“you looked like you were having enough fun with wooyoung and san,” he mumbles, something darker and sarcastic in his voice that makes you turn in his lap and look at him.

his eyes are glassy and teasing but not in the light hearted way. they look almost vengeful, like he’s jealous or feeling left out the same way you’ve been; but you’re always sitting there, at parties or at bars or in your room, waiting for him.

how doesn’t he see that?”

“that’s because you’ve been with everyone else. you’re always with everyone else and you leave me behind.”

“what are you even talking about?” he sneers, keeping his voice low but full of bite. “you come everywhere with me like my damn shadow, y/n. how do i leave you behind? i couldn’t if i tried.”

his words make you physically recoil, his lap now longer feeling comfortable and inviting but cold. the hurt is evident on your face and in your heart and he’s just looking at you like he’s ready to have a full on argument, his eyebrow raised and glossy eyes wide.

like he’s waiting for you to say something just so he can respond and hurt you.

there’s a long, lingering silence between you two, the laughter of others surrounding you despite the way tears are burning your eyes. a screech of your name pulls you away, looking at san and mingi where the shorter boy is holding his foot above the sand.

“can you come back with us? i cut my foot.”

some silly part of you expects yeosang to tell them to leave you alone. that you spent your time with them and now it’s his turn to be with you. but he doesn’t say a word, just bounces his knee as if to tell you to get off and it feels as if your heart drops into your stomach.

you swallow the growing lump in your throat, throwing the towel back on yeosang and rising toyour feet to help san.

“sure,” you tell the boy quietly, not looking back at yeosang once as you make your way up to the house.

you clean san’s foot on the counter in the kitchen, getting off all the dirt and dust with an alcohol pad as he whines in pain.

“it’s not that bad,” you mumble, mingi nodding in agreement as san narrows his eyes at both of you.

you’re strangely quiet, more quiet than usual, and mingi can’t help but notice the sad look on your face; you’d been so happy in the water and when you first got to the beach.

“did you and yeosang fight?”

you look up at mingi to see his eyes on you, soft and sweet and looking over you gently. it makes the weepy, emotional part in you wanna cry but you refuse, letting the dramatic tears burn your eyes at you shake your head.

“are you sure? you look sad.”

“no, i’m okay, i’m just tired,” you say, sending a small smile his way that is obviously fake. “the water and sun always tire me out.”

san and mingi accept your answer as you finish covering san’s food, slapping a band-aid on his heel and smiling (the smallest hint of a real smile) as he kisses your cheek in thanks.

you watch outside the window as yeosang sits in his chair, all the boys in a circle with their cups full of beer and throwing their heads back in laughter. you can hear their banter and harsh words through the open glass, not a single part of you wanting to go back out there.

you’d much rather sit in the bath or take a nap, rid yourself of the image of yeosang’s harsh words and annoyed eyes.  

“y/n?” san says, your eyes snapping to his concerned face - how long had he been calling you?

“c’mon, we’re going back,” he says, extending his arm down to you. “we used to play this olympic game when we were kids and we wanna try again.”

a smile pulls at your lips at his statement, picturing all of them as crazy kids running up and down the beach playfully. but now you don’t wanna go back out there, especially since you have to go out later with them.

“i kind of wanna take a nap before we go out tonight,” you tell the boys, looks of horror crossing their faces.

“what? we’re not going out till 7. it’s only 1:30, y/n.”

“i know but i’m gonna take a bath, too. the tub is really big.”

the dejected frowns on mingi and san almost make you crack but they eventually let it go, insisting that if you can’t fall asleep to come back out so you can all go back in the ocean.

you watch them walk back to the group from the door, eyes lingering over yeosang who’s smiling and laughing with his big group of friends. he always looks most comfortable like that, in a big group of people where everyone looks to him and laughs, giving him the attention he used to look for from you.

but things change apparently. you don’t know how or when or why neither of you have acknowledged it but it’s obvious that somewhere along the line, things had changed.

“where’s y/n?” seonghwa’s voice asked, pulling yeosang from his discussion as he sees mingi and san walking back to the group.

“she said she’s tired,” san answers with a frown, a scoff leaving yeosang that has the dirty blonde side eyeing him. “she might come back down after she takes a nap.”

“she won’t,” yeosang says, taking a sip from his beer before throwing the glass bottle into the garbage bag; san and mingi side eye each other, catching the dark look that seonghwa throws the boy’s way.

“can someone get me another one?”

you woke to the sound of yeosang shuffling around in his bag, eyes fluttering open to see a towel wrapped around his waist. your eyes roamed over is body, a flat, toned stomach and muscular arms that now had a red su burn on them.

“did you put on sunscreen?”

he jumped slightly despite your quiet tone, meeting your tired gaze and bedridden hair as he nods his head. he places a pair of jeans and a t-shirt on the bed, undressing in front of you as you keep your gaze on him.

“did you sleep well?”

you can’t read his expression or tone at all right now and it unsettles you greatly; so you only nod, sitting up and stretching your arms up and over your head.

“are you coming out with us?”

your eyes narrow and that same sad feling plummets in your stomach again. how it feels like your heart’s falling down further and further.

“um... why wouldn’t i?”

“because it doesn’t seem like you want to.”

“then should i just sit here by myself?”

silence fills the room as you both just stare at each other blankly, the hurt behind your eyes and the annoyance behind his far too palpable. you wonder if he’s gonna say anything in response or just leave the out the bedroom door, quirking an eyebrow up in the quietness.

“we’re leaving in 30,” is all he says, voice still short and eyes still tight as he turns around and leaves. mingi and san sneak through the door, most definitely eavesdropping, as they run over and plop on your bed.

“you didn’t come back.”

“you guys definitely fought.”

you let out a sigh as you look to mingi, an apologetic smile on his face as he pats your shoulder reassuringly. his hand moves to your hair, lacing his fingers through it before a knot stops him.

“i was sleeping, okay,” you grumble, a deep laugh leaving him as he pulls you up and off the bed.

“we’re leaving soon so get ready. we’re just gonna dance and have fun. i promise.”

and so similiar to the beach outing, the first few hours were fun.

the music was good, it wasn’t too crowded and you even didn’t mind the taste of your strawberry daiquiri. you danced with san, mingi and wooyoung until your feet were killing and your throat felt parched.

you went up to the bar for a water, needing to yell your order over the voices of people as you realize just how crowded it got. your eyes scan the bar for yeosang, seeing him in the corner where the big group resides.

your eyes meet form across the room, a small smile on your face as you wave to him.

you know he sees you, you know you two definitely make eye contact and that he could tell it was you, but he doesn’t acknowledge you in the slightest. only hyunjin and jisung do, yelping your name from across the bar and ushering you over eagerly.

you hesitantly make your way over, a polite smile on your face. there’s a few people you don’t recognize but there’s a lot of people you do, trying to keep that in mind as you approach the table closer and say hi to everyone.

“y/n! where have you been?”

“dancing with san and mingi,” you tell them. “wooyoung, too, but we kept losing him.”

“he’s too friendly for his own good,” jisung says, his eyes roaming you and yeosang before back to you. “where are they now?”

“not sure, maybe outside.”

“cool. stay with us for a bit.”

you’re hesitant but find yourself nodding anyway, your arm grazing yeosang who’s standing next to you. you look to him and he’s talking to a few guys across the table, hyunjin calling your name twice before you notice.

the whole time you’re talking to them, you can’t help but notice how yeosang seems to be avoiding you. giving you the cold shoulder like you’re a random stranger in a bar and not his girlfriend.

and the longer it goes on, the worse you feel. trying to carry on the conversation but becoming more and more aware of yeosang’s distance; and you’re not the only one who’s noticed.

“yo, yeosang,” jisung says, the black-haired boy snapping his head toward the boy. he nods his head toward you, your neck craning toward yeosang and face dropping when the boy begins to speak again.

“is there any reason you’re ignoring your girlfriend?” he asks, humor in his tone.

“what do you mean?” the boy asks, his eyes moving to yours, the same unreadable expression in them.

“you haven’t looked at her once. are you guys even still dating?”

“surprisingly,” the drunken man quips sarcastically.

your face drops and it’s like he knows it, looking at you with a roll of his eyes.

“i was kidding, y/n,” he huffs, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into him. he reeks of alcohol and cologne, keeping you under his arm before continuing his conversation.

the entire time, it’s like you’re not even there. he doesn’t once acknowledge you or try to include you in the conversation. just keeps you there as if your his shadow, something he’s not even aware ad that he doesn’t pay any mind to.

you thought you’ve been dramatic over these past few months. maybe being too sensitive or too emotional or maybe even asking too much from him. but it’s like he doesn’t even want you here.

he hasn’t looked your way once and neither of you acknowledged the way you snapped at each other before. your communication has gone down the toilet, all of your feelings brewing while his seem to be nonexistent.

you move out from under his arm, no one, not even him, noticing when you mumble that you’re going to the bathroom.

tears burn your eyes the entire time, feeling stupid and left out and annoying, like you have no place here and just have to be attached to someone who doesn’t want you or yeosang’s friends.

you grip the sink and take a few calming breaths, looking up at the mirror when you hear the door open.

a drunken girl comes in and smiles upon seeing you, her face immediately dropping before she makes her way over to you.

“oh no, what’s wrong?” she asks with a frown on her face, her eyes roaming yours carefully as her hands grip your arms comfortingly. “you look like you’re about to cry.”

you almost laugh at the fact that this random stranger is the one noticing that you’re upset when you were just beside your boyfriend. you only shake your head and promise her that you’re okay, a pathetic excuse of a smile plastered on your face.

but the same way a person breaks down when someone asks if they’re okay, you do when you try to assure her that you are. that you and your boyfriend are in a great place and you feel completely happy here with him.

“just... stupid stuff with my boyfriend,” you eventually mutter out, a small tear escaping your eye that causes her frown to deepen. “i feel silly and dramatic but i don’t know.. i feel like he’s been ignoring me. we’ve been so weird these past few months and it doesn’t seem like he even loves me anymore.”

“leave his ass, are you crazy,” she asks without hesitation, wiping at your tears with a sympathetic smile on her face. “you’re beautiful and he’s not worth crying over. no boy is. because that what he is. a boy. a stupid boy, in fact.”

a wet, strangled giggle leaves your mouth despite the tears streaming down your face, watching as she takes a paper towel and dabs at your face.

“you’re gonna mess up your makeup so no more crying!” she says happily, bouncing up and down with her legs crossed. “leave his ass and have fun, sweet girl! i’m about to pee my pants now.”

another giggle leaves your mouth as you thank her sweetly, wiping at your face and smiling when she lets out a heavy sigh of relief. you take a deep breath, trying to take her words to heart but far too aware of the upset in your stomach.

how leaving him seems like the most painful thing ever. how you don’t even wanna do that because you guys haven’t talked about anything yet. all these problems could be in your own head for all you know, you two haven’t had any sort of discussion.

but it doesn’t help that he doesn’t even seem receptive.

he has been ignoring you and making you feel left out. he brings you along just to leave you when he knows you’re only coming for him; even on the nights you guys stay in, it’s obvious he wants to be out partying.

why can’t it be more fair? are you asking for too much or is he just being inconsiderate?

you walk out of the bathroom to se the corner of bar empty, only jisung and hyujin lingering. the taller boy meets your gaze and the two make their way over, letting you know that they went to the bar outside.

“oh... okay, thanks for letting me know,” you thank softly, a small smile lighting up your face.

they both wear their own sympathetic smile, hyunjin shaking his head at jisung when they make eye contact. there’s a few moments of an awkward silence, you looking between them both before jisung opens his mouth to speak again.

“yeosang was saying some fucked up shit, y/n. i just wanted you to know.”

“han...”

“no, hyunjin, they’ve been together for a long time and he knows her best. that wasn’t cool.”

your stomach plummets at the words leaving the boy, the tears you just got rid of burning the back of your eyes again.

“what... what did he say?”

“it wasn’t anything that bad, we were just shocked. you guys usually seemed so happy and in love and it was just-”

“he said it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you guys broke up. and that if you wanted to, he wouldn’t be too opposed.”

the look on your face must give it all away, tears filling your eyes as you feel yourself ready to bolt. you will not be the girl who cries publicly in a bar, looking like a hot, red-faced mess because your boyfriend decided to be an asshole.

“he’s shit faced, y/n,” hyunjin says immediately, his stomach turning at your tears; he hates when people cry, especially girls. “he only said it because he thinks that’s where you guys are headed. said you guys have felt very disconnected since school ended.”

and while it helps to hear that you haven’t been the only one feeling that way, it still hurts you.

because it doesn’t seem like he wants to fight for you and he hasn’t said anything to you. he’s just ignoring you, making you feel worse and worse with the occasional kiss or whispered sweet nothing.

you think the worst part is that, eve if you guys did break up, he wouldn’t be sad about it. he’d just move on without any qualms and think of you as the girl he dated during his freshmen year of college.

but he was much more to you than that.

he was your first love. the first boy you allowed in and let yourself trust. gave yourself to in the most intimiate way and found solace in him despite your differences.

those differences seem to be your downfall right now - with one similarity that, apparently, both of you suck at communication.

you don’t even realize you’re turning around and leaving the bar until you hear your name being called behind you, walking out in the warm night air and heading toward the beach.

you just keep walking and walking and walking, until there’s nothing but silence and the waves crashing around you.

he knows he shouldn’t care this much.

he knows that it’s not his place and that the boy next to him should be the one worrying and concerned about where you are.

but yeosang doesn’t seem to care at all, switching from beers to shots in a decision seonghwa made hours ago to stay away from.

he can’t stop his eyes from moving to the door ever so often, waiting for your hair or smiling face to walk through and flood him with some relief; but when he sees mingi, san, and wooyoung come in without you, he’s not sure he can hold off any longer.

“yeosang,” seonghwa says, voice deep with his usual bite. “where’s y/n?”

“i don’t know,” he slurs out, not even bothering to look around or observe the crowd. “probably with mingi or san.”

“no, they’re out here, too.”

“i don’t know hwa, why do you care?” he growls in annoyance, downing another shot to dull out the sound your name and all the concerns he has. coming to terms with the fact that you guys are changing and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

“because she’s missing, yeosang. no one has seen her or is with her.”

he’s getting more and more irritated at his friends attitude, the way it seems like he couldn’t give less of a shit about where his girlfriend is. especially when he knows you get uncomfortable in this setting.

“i’m her boyfriend, hwa, and i know she’s fine. so fucking drop it. she’s around here somewhere.”

but that answer doesn’t quell the worry in seonghwa, the dirty blonde rolling his eyes at the endless horror stories plaguing his mind. they’re underage at a crowded bar with sleazy drunks and cops lurking - there are far too many things that could go wrong.

“then act like it, dickhead.”

yeosang just rolls his eyes, turning his attention back to the group and dismissing seonghwa and the conversation completely. he doesn’t know how they can talk about his girlfriend missing to something as mundane as video games, seonghwa getting up with a huff and walking back into the bar.

he checks around the whole bar twice, nearing 1 a.m so the building is at its maximum capacity. but even then, he checks everywhere and doesn’t see you; he even asks girls waiting on line to the bathroom to see if you’re in there, unaware of the dreamy look in their eyes as they nod and hang on to every word he says.

“no one named y/n was in there,” they said a few moments later, an apologetic look on her face before she smiled flirtily. “did you lose your girlfriend?”

he rolls his eyes and thanks them politely, not giving her the time to give him some cheesy pick up line before he’s outside.

it’s warm with such a slight breeze coming off the ocean, looking up and down the block before the beach catches his eye. there’s a few people walking in the distance and he thinks it’s worth a shot, walking away from the bar and going down to the cold, grainy sand.

he’s walking for twenty minutes, about to turn around as he wonders why the hell he’s even looking for you, when he hears soft cries.

he can barely hear them over the sound of the waves but he definitely hears them, squinting his eyes in the distance to see a figure hunched over with their face in their hands.

he can tell you it’s you when he’s a few feet away, the way your hair’s falling and dress is riding up your legs. he swallows thickly, relief flooding through him as he looks over your figure quietly.

he could tell you and yeosang were having problems, could tell you’ve been having them for a few months by how often you and him would hang out at parties, but it seemed as if they were getting worse these days.

he saw it on the beach this morning, the way you went from smiling and laughing to disappearing inside the house. it bothered him then but he knew he shouldn’t butt in, waiting until you guys figured it out or handled things on your own.

but now he can’t just sit back anymore.

he’s seeing changes in his younger friend that he doesn’t enjoy; his drinking, his attitude, the way he’s treating you 90% of the time. and tonight had been the last straw for him, his blatant disconcern for you and your wellbeing completely rubbing him the wrong way.

he continues to approach you quietly, the sound of his footsteps in the sand causing you to look up.

the faint glow from the streetlights and moon cast light on him, calming you immediately as you look up at him. you feel the wet tears on your face but could care less at the moment, sending him a small broken smile that makes you feel pathetic.

seonghwa is similiar to mingi and san in the aspect that he’s able to tell something’s off between you and yeosang. not because he’s nosy (in the most concerned way) like the two younger boys but because he sees it.

watches you at parties and is usually the person sitting beside you on the couch while yeosang’s off doing whatever.

he moves slow and cautious, sitting down on the sand next to you silently. you can feel the heat radiating off his arm, not quite touching you but just a few inches away.

you’re no longer crying but tears are still on your face, leaving you wet and sticky and most definitely tear-stained.

“i don’t know what i did, seonghwa.”

the dirty blonde looks your way when you finally break the silence between you two, seeing your tooth in your lip and eyes strained on the dark, starry sky.

“we’ve been so weird ever since the semester ended and it’s only getting worse. i- i know that’s just how he is but he was like that in the beginning too but he would never ignore me. i don’t know what i did or why he started but it feels like we’re on our way to breaking-”

you can’t even say the words because it’s not something you’re ready to do. you still love him and there’s still hints of you guys as a happy couple, the way he holds you and kisses you and looks at you sometimes.

but the bad is outweighing the god these days and it’s hurting you. hurting you to the point that you’re here, crying on the beach to his best friend who you don’t even realize looks at you a little too long and a little too soft.

and he doesn’t even know what to say to you this moment. because he sees his friend is changing and he sees it’s effecting you; it makes him wanna go back to the bar and punch yeosang in the face, tell him to wake up before someone snatches you away and treats you the way you deserve.

“am i the one being stupid, seonghwa?” you ask again, turning to look at the boy beside you. “do i just have to like... get over it and try for him? try to enjoy all of this and be okay with mingling on my own?”

“you go out with us all the tie, y/n, how are you not trying?”

it’s the softest you’ve ever heard seonghwa’s voice, something about it bringing more tears to your eyes because it’s so obvious that you’re a mess.

“i must not be if he’s being like this. it’s like he doesn’t even know me and he just wants me to leave him alone. he- he even told jisung it wouldn’t be that big of a deal if we broke up, so why am i even crying?”

seonghwa feels rage bubble up in his chest at the thought of yeosang saying that, cracking his knuckles one by one until he’s facing you again. he doesn’t get how he can’t see what he’s doing to you or how he doesn’t care.

“he’s been different these past few months, i’ve seen it too, y/n, so it’s not you,” he assures gently, waning to reach out and touch your hand form comfort. “he’s just... i don’t know what the fuck he’s doing but he shouldn’t be taking it out on you.”

you let out a sigh as you hide your face in your knees, tears leaking from your eyes again as quiet sobs leave you.

you feel seonghwa’s hand on your back a few seconds later, moving up and down slowly as you fall into him. you both just sit there on the sand, you crying and him silently comforting you as you try to make sense of this mess.

because even right now, with you gone and not saying a word, he doesn’t care. he’s not calling or texting or going to look for you. he just don’t seem to care at all.

“please don’t cry, y/n,” he mumbles quietly, his thumb moving up and down your skin gently.

but his words don’t help in the slightest. you just muffle your cries until you can’t anymore, peeking your head up as you wipe the wetness off your face.

“i’m sorry,” you mutter, feeling embarrassed to have just cried your eyes out for god knows how long; but seonghwa doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest, shrugging his shoulders with a small smile on his lips.

“you don’t have to apologize,” he reassures gently, sending a small smile his way.

you watch his eyes roam your face, dark eyes piercing yours in a way that you once found so intimidating. but you’ve gotten to know him so well and know how sweet he is.

how much he looks out for his people and that he’d really do anything for anyone.

“what?” you ask, feeling self conscious and seen. “are there tears on my face?”

“just a few,” he teases, reaching across to dab at the reamining wetness. you smile softly as he tocuhes your skin, watching him so gently reach over your face.

his warm fingers linger on you for a little too long but you don’t even notice, thanking him softly when he pulls back.

you lean back and are reminded of your first date with yeosang, on the sand that feels familiar and the sky with a bright crescent moon similiar to the one around your neck.

it pulls at something in your heart, how maybe you guys will never be like that again. how the honeymoon phase is just something that isn’t meant to to last htat long maybe.

it’s just a fleeting moment that you’ll remember in times like this, when it feels like you guys are about to fall apart.

tears prick your eyes again, a sigh leaving your mouth as you silently beg yourself not to cry again before seonghwa’s on his feet and reaching his hand down, like he knew you were about to blow.

you look at it with confusion, looking from his hand to his eyes looking down at you expectantly.

“come with me.”

“where are we going?” you ask, taking his hand hesitantly. he pulls you to your feet with ease, keeping you hands intertwined as he turns around and pulls you up the beach silently.

“seonghwa,” you whine, your bare foot tripping over the lumpy sand. he just grips your hand tighter every time you stumble, a quiet chuckle leaving his mouth that makes you narrow your eyes at him.

“you’ll see,” he says, eyeing you back just as sternly. “i past it on my way to find you.”

a dimly lit playground with swings and small, slightly janky jungle gym comes into your view, a smile lighting up your face as you turn to look at seonghwa.

“i don’t know how i missed this,” you tell him, knowing for sure you hd to have passed it on your way to the beach.

“you were too busy crying,” he teases lightly, a snort leaving your mouth as you push him gently. he narrows his eyes and pushes you back playfully, watching as you take off in the sand and plop down on a swing.

he smiles as you wave him over, moving the swing and pumping your legs as you hold your arms out to him. he walks over, leaning his head against the chain of the swing next to you watching you sit there and smile up at him.

“push me,” you ask sweetly, his eyes narrowing slightly. “please,” you add, wide glassy eyes and a sweet smile that renders him unable to resist. his warm hands rest on your back as he pushes you higher and higher, your eyes looking out into the ocean and sky as memories wrack your brain.

“when... when did you get that?!” you yelp, moving closer to his larger, warmer body to get a good look at it. “i didn’t even see you pick it up!”

“i was sneaky, right?” he teases with a wink, guiding you by the waist to sit down before placing the basket between you.

you barely notice the harsh gust of wind because of your excitement and surprise, yeosang’s hands draping a blanket around your shoulders before you can even shiver.

“i even packed the food. i didn’t really know how to be sneaky for that so it was pure luck that you went to the bathroom.”

and low and behold, when he opens up the white, woven basket, all the food you got was packed in perfectly. plates and utensils were strapped to the top with two small cups next to the array of fruits, cookies, and several ingredients for sandwiches.

you both happened to like cheese ones, your hands grazing and soft giggles leaving when you both reached for it in the frozen section.

“i... i can’t believe you did this,” you mumble quietly, feeling far more touched and happy than you’re willing to let on. “this is so cute. thank you, yeosang.

you shake your head from the memories, looking back to see seonghwa still pushing you with a content smile on his face. you stretch you legs to reach the ground, slowing down until you jump off.

you topple on the sand a little bit, seonghwa calling your name with a chuckle and watching as you steady yourself out. you turn to him with a smile, looking up at him in a way that causes his heart to jump in his chest.

he knows he has to ignore though. because problems or not, broken up or not, you’re still his best friend’s girlfriend.

but it doesn’t stop him from frolicking in the sand with you. following you as the playful spirit comes out from zipping down the slide or climbing on top of the monkey bars.

he grabs your leg that hangs off from the monkey bars, your whiney “seonghwa!” echoing through the quiet night air. his laugh causes a smile to light up your face, the two of you in the playground until your body is weak and you’re laid out on the sand.

seonghwa checks his phone to see it’s almost 3:00, wondering aloud if their friends are back from the bar.

and that’s the reality check you need. remembering that your boyfriend’s ignoring you, you don’t know he you did and his best friend is the one here - comforting you, making you laugh and keeping your mind off all the things that are making you sad in the first place.

it’s a very sobering thought that makes your smile fall off your face, jumping up from your spot in the sand as you look at seonghwa.

“i... we should get back then,” you hear yourself say. “i didn’t realize it was that late.”

it’s the reality check seonghwa needed to, that he shouldn’t be the one making you laugh and smile while your heart and mind are still plagued by yeosang. so he nods his head, rising to his feet and looking down at you for a few seconds.

you feel a lump form in your throat at the look he gives you, butterflies threatening to erupt in your stomach as his eyes roam every inch of your face. eyes to your hair to your nose to your lips, his tongue peeking out before he nods his head down toward the beach.

"lets go, then,” he says, ignoring the slightly dejected feeling in his stomach he knows he shouldn’t have. “they might be back by now.”

you guys walk back to the house in silence, arms bumping ever so often in a way that both of you try to ignore. because even if this felt right, even if your time with seonghwa always feels so right and easy, it feels right with yeosang too.

and it’s not like you can just have them both.

gong home to an empty house was incredibly sobering.

your bed was cold, the house was quiet and you had to muffle stupid, disappointed cries into your pillow until you fell asleep.

but there was someone else sitting in the living room, waiting for the moment his friends come back so he can tear his one drunken asshole of a friend a new asshole.

and that’s exactly what he did when he heard the front door open, wooyoung and san’s loud “heeellloo!” echoing through the house causing his head to snap toward the door.

the boys shuffle in, saying their hi’s to seonghwa as they filter in the kitchen and start to raid the cabinets for food. yeosang’s the last to get through the door, his stumbling to a minimum and glassy eyes observing the house carefully.

seonghwa feels his jaw clench, the two boys meeting eyes as the black-haired boy approaches him quickly.

“did you find her?”

“how’d you know i went looking?”

“do you think i’m a fucking idiot?”

seonghwa clenches his jaw again, cracking his tension-filled neck as he looks at his friend. the boys hold a dark, intense eye contact that goes ignored by the rest of the boys - too consumed by their need for food, drunken ramblings, and wooyoung crying about keeping the dishes to a minimum so he doesn’t have to wash them hungover tomorrow.

“she was on the beach crying,” seonghwa eventually bites back, looking at his friend with every hint of disdain and anger. “heard that you said it wouldn’t even matter if you guys broke up or not.”

“that fucking jisung,” yeosang grumbles, seonghwa rolling his eyes and getting up from the couch. he feels yeosang falling behind him, half tempted to tell him to piss off before they’re both just outside the dirty blonde’s room.

“what are you so mad about? she’s my girlfriend, yeosang.”

“and you’re treating her like shit, yeosang. you have been for months. leaving her all the time, barely spending time with her, do you even notice how much she fucking hates going to those?”

“but she still does?” yeosang says, face pulled into confuson and irritaiton - he doesn’t like the way he’s feeling attacked and defesnive. “i never force her to go.”

“obviously she’s gonna go for you,” seonghwa growls, confused as to how his friend is so stupid and blind about this. “because she loves you, yeosang.”

“i love her, too,” he says, “she knows how much i love her.”

the look soenghwa gives him cause his eyes to narrow, anger spiking in him as he pushes his frined back. seognhwa’s eyes flare and he has to hold himself back, knowing that he’s already not in a spot to fight over you.

“and if i didn’t know any better, i’d think you loved her too. running to her rescue right away and nearly ripping my head off before.”

seonghwa doesn’t know what to say so he doesn’t say anything, the silence doing more than words could at this point. and even drunk, yeosang knows what it means. can see in seonghwa’s face and body language that he has nothing to say because, yeah, he might love her, too.

“bullshit,” yeosang blurts out, a look of shock and horror on his face. seonghwa only shrugs his shoulders, attempting to walk away from yeosang before he pulls his friend back roughly.

“are you kidding me? y/n? out of every woman in this world?”

“i don’t know, yeosang, okay. it just fucking happened. i wasn’t ever gonna say anything to either of you.”

“wow, how noble of you. but you run off to save her when we get ino a fight.”

“because you were being a dick and she was upset,” seonghwa growls back, balling his fists in a similiar fashion to yeosang. “but i didn’t say anytihng to her. i just called you an asshole and said you were changing. not that she should leave you for me, although i’ve been tempted to steal her from you.”

a laugh of disbelief leaves yeosang, his head shaking as he looks over his friend.

“you’ve got fucking balls.”

and if it were anyone else saying this to him, they’d be beaten to a bloody pulp. but yeosang knows seonghwa would never make a move on you, actively try to steal you and get you away from him even if he wanted to.

he even had sinking suspicos that he had feelings for you, catching the way he’d look at you or his gaze would linger for just a little too lnog.

but he trusts his friend and he trusts you.

he was just the idiot now, acting as if you ddin’t mean the world to him and he doesn’t love you more than anyone else in this world.

“i’m gonna go apologize to her,” yeosang says, his gaze meeting seonghwa and making the dirty blonde nod his head. “thanks for taking care of her.”

the dirty blonde only nods his head, dread pooling in the pit of his stomach as he watches him walk out the room and go to you.

yeosang walks in to se your sleeping form on the bed, creeping over to his bag and cringing at the sound of his zipper in the quiet room.

you wake to the sound of shuffling toward the door, eyes peeking open to see yeosang with his shirt off and slipping on pajama pants. he makes his way over to the bed, your eyes closing quickly as you attempt to keep your breaths even.

you think his soft chuckle is a sign that you’ve gotten caught, keeping up the act as the bed dips and he’s sitting beside you, running his fingers through your hair gently.

“i’m sorry, baby, i’m so sorry,” he hums quietly, keeping his eyes on you as a knot forms in his throat.

he hadn’t reaalized how much he’d been neglected you this summer.

how often he was leaving you and just being assured by the fact that you always had someone with you - mingi, san, wooyoung, even seonghwa, although that proved to be slightly dangerous now.

“i know you’re mad, love, but i’ll be better. i was shit faced when i said that to jisung and hyunjin.”

your eyes peak open, seeing his soft, apologetic eyes that makes a frown appear on his lips. your hand reaches up to touch his face, his skin smooth and slight sticky from the humid summer air.

“are you shit faced now? will you even remember this tomorrow?” you ask quietly, still hurt by his words and the way he acted.

he takes your hand from his ace and presses a kiss to each knuckle, shaking his head as he crawls into bed next to you.

“no,” he mumbles, positing himself close to your warm body. “i stopped drinking when no one could find you. your girlfriend going missing tends to sober a guy up.”

a small snort leaves your mouth as you shake your head, meeting his gaze with tired eyes.

“i wasn’t missing, i was on the beach.”

“with seonghwa.”

you bite down on your lip as you nod your head, eyes roaming him carefully. you don’t quite know what to make of his tone or face, choosing to just nod your head in confirmation.

they had to have talked anyway - how else would he have known jisung told you what he said?

“i’m glad he was there for you when i wasn’t,” he mumbles quietly, a sad truth that he has to come to terms with despite knowing seonghwa’s feelings now.

“it’s okay, you’re here now,” you mumble, moving your body closer to his. he smiles against your head, wrapping his arm around you as he presses a kiss to your head.

but you can’t quite shake the feeling of seonghwa being there for you either.

the way he looked at you so sweetly and made you feel better with just his presence. his hold on you strong and gaze so soft, you can’t help but wonder if, somehow, you’ve also somehow fallen for yeosang’s best friend.

november - sophomore year

if someone told you over the summer that in four months, you’d be living with seonghwa and yeosang, you would’ve called them crazy. asked how the hell that arrangement came to be because why would a single man choose to live with a couple in the first place?

but really, the arrangement stemmed from all of you just having terrible luck.

you had started sophomore year on a terrible foot, not securing a single room this semester and getting a roommate you knew from the moment you met was gonna be a nightmare.

she was not only incredibly rude but messy. 

her clothes littered every inch of the floor by the second week of class and her boyfriend would come over at all hours of the day; you understood it was her room too but hearing them try (and fail) to have quiet sex at 2 a.m was not only disturbing but left you exhausted most weekdays.

“i can’t keep doing it,” you whined to yeosang, laid on top of him in his bed.

it was ironic that his apartment, the one with seven hyper active boys you once thought was the loudest place on earth, was now your place of solace.

it was where you went on weekends to get a good night sleep, not only quiet with no interruptions but incredibly comfortable with your head in boyfriend’s warm chest.

“i’m telling you, baby, ask to get a new room,” he says, a frown on his face at the bags under your eyes. 

his fingers swipes under your purple skin and you close your eyes at his gentle touch, always about ready to fall asleep when you’re with him.

“i did, they don’t have anything,” you whine, burying your face deeper into his chest. “i was even looking at apartments off campus but they’re all too expensive.”

yeosang quirks an eyebrow when he hears you say that, biting down on his lip as he contemplates telling you his idea.

because even before your terrible roommate dilemma, he’d been playing with the idea of asking you to move in together. you guys have almost been together for a year and this summer, even with the bumps in the road, had been nice.

waking up and going to sleep together every day had been the best part for him.always being with you and going about your day still with each other. food shopping, furniture shopping, even just watching tv in silence together.

he wanted more of that with you.

“why don’t we move in together?”

he doesn’t mean to blurt it out so harshly but the words just fall out, your head snapping to him with wide eyes.

“what?”

“i... i know it seems kind of sudden but why don’t we move in together? we can split the rent then,” he says, his arm wrapping around your waist tightly. “we basically lived together this summer and that was nice, wasn’t it?” he hums, grinding his body into yours a little too purposely to be innocent.

you roll your eyes despite the smile pulling at your lips, moving away from his chest to peer up at him.

could he be serious? does he really wanna live with you?

“would you really wanna live with me?” you ask quietly, his eyebrows pulling together at the meekness in your tone.

“of course i would, baby,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to cheek sweetly. “why wouldn’t i?”

but even with his reassurance and sweet words, you still felt reluctantly.

it was a big step that scared you not only for financial reasons but because you know how you are. you couldn’t even have a roommate your first semester of college and now you’re gonna live with someone permanently?

but the more days pass with you living with your roommate, the more you realize you would much rather have yeosang. even if it meant taking a big next step with him as your boyfriend.

you walked up to his apartment ready to tell him you were ready to move in together, that you guys have to start looking immediately before you just insist on sleeping on the bench outside your dorms.

but when you open the door to this house, you’re met with chaos.

absolute, disastrous chaos. 

voices screaming, water everywhere and, most importantly, all of them running around shirtless and packing their bags; you suppose this is why yeosang hadn’t been answering your texts.

“um.. what is happening?” you ask loudly upon entering, all the boys heads snapping to you.

you’re able to make out the words water line breakage, flood, drown to death and parents house, the several loud voices rendering you unable to say or hear  anything properly.

yeosang pushes his way through and explains that their apartment is well on its way to being destroyed, a faulty waterline that the apartment manager didn’t take care of threatening to completely flood the building.

“what? where are you guys supposed to go now?!”

and that right there is how your current situation came about. 

moving into a one bedroom apartment with your boyfriend and his best friend, the black-haired boy looking over seonghwa with a particularly harsh look in his eye.

the rest of them were either able to secure dorm rooms at the boys dormitory or move in with their parents who lived close by - but seonghwa’s parents lived out of state now and the apartment he was one step away from closing on fell through, thus leaving him homeless.

this unsettled yeosang greatly, knowing his best friend was secretly in love with his girlfriend still.

“you’re crazy if you think i’d try anything with her at all, let alone with you fucking here, yeosang, shit.”

“i already told you just to tell her so shit doesn’t have to be awkward,” yeosang said, whisper-yelling as you set up furniture in your shared bedroom.

“telling her would make shit more awkward, she doesn’t have to know,” seonghwa argued back, looking toward the bedroom with a cautious look on his face.

ever since he outed his confession to yeosang this summer, he’d been trying to act like the same. 

distance himself physically but remain there for you emotionally - laugh with you, smile with you, act as a friend to you while not pushing the boundary when it came to how he felt about you.

“i don’t know how she doesn’t,” yeosang says honestly, looking at seonghwa with not a hint of anger in his eyes. “you make it pretty obvious.”

the dirty blonde narrows his eyes at the boy, punching him in the arm lightly before setting up the couch that now doubles as his bed - living like a true single bachelor.

you make your way out of your new bedroom, the house almost completely set up with furniture and decor. 

a frown crosses your face when you see seonghwa setting up the couch with pillows and blankets, poking the cushions with your finger as you look at him.

“seonghwa, are you sure this is gonna be okay? sleeping on a couch isn’t comfortable.”

“it’s a futon, y/n, they’re meant for that,” seonghwa teases, a small smile lighting up his face. “it’ll be fine.”

“but are you sure? what if you start to get-”

“he’ll be fine, baby,” yeosang says from behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle as his eyes bore into seonghwa. “you don’t have to worry about him.”

the dirty blonde rolls his eyes before looking to you, reassuring you with a small smile and nod. he plops down on the couch and adjusts himself comfortably, giving you a thumbs up as he looks you over happily.

“it’s good, i swear. it’s new so i just gotta break it in.”

“maybe you can invite a girl over. finally get laid,” yeosang mocks, seonghwa biting the inside of his cheek so he doesn’t say a snappy comment; but you, you of course, have other ideas about how to break it in.

“that’s a great idea! let’s have a movie night!”

and before the two boys can protest, you’re running off to your room and writing in the group chat for the boys to come over at eight with snacks and a list of scary movies to watch.

“she already runs the show around here, doesn’t she?” yeosang grumbles, a smirk crossing seonghwa’s face as he nods his head.

“duh.”

“duh! you never go back in the house, are they fucking nuts!?” wooyoung shouts hours later, the apartment completely dark apart from the glow of the tv and jongho’s pumpkin pecan waffles candle (the one he insisted on bringing to set the mood).

you share a knowing smile with seonghwa, the dirty blonde finding himself in the worst seat of the house - directly next to a chatty, exuberant wooyoung.

yeosang and hongjoong had jumped up and claimed the chaises of the other couch, you spending the first two and a half movies curled on top of yeosang until your side became numb and you stole mingi’s seat.

now you sat beside seonghwa, bumping his arm lightly and giggling any time he made a passing comment about wooyoung or the movie or anything else he found utterly stupid or loud.

“who do you think would be the first to die?” you whisper to seonghwa, a smirk on his face as he looks over at you. his lips quirk as he thinks, looking over the pile of his friends laid out in his new living room.

he catches yeosang’s eyes on him, the boy watching carefully before he looks back to the screen casually.

“definitely mingi,” seonghwa mumbles in your ear, a smile pulling at your lips as you watch the boy clutch onto a blanket tighter and bury himself closer to yunho. “he’s a coward.

“maybe,” you mutter, a yawn escaping you as you adjust your position on the couch. your curled legs hit seonghwa but neither of you move, pulling the fuzzy white blanket tighter around you.

“but i think it’d be jongho to be honest,” you mumble, tired eyes still focused on the screen as you him and talk hushly. “it’s always the person you’d least expect.”

a small chuckle leaves seonghwa’s mouth as he nods his head in agreement, wishing he could put his arm around you so you could fall asleep against him more comfortably.

but he just keeps his arm and legs against you, watching the movie until he suddenly feels the pressure of your head on his shoulder.

he looks down to see your eyes closed, hair splayed over your face as even breaths leave you. you look so at peace and innocent in your sleep, not even realizing when his hand reaches out to move away the strands.

his eyes move to yeosang’s when he realizes what he’s done, looking to the boy who’s still adamantly watching the movie and chewing on popcorn. he settles himself back and tries to relax, feel the warmth of your body on his and tries not to get to comfortable with how nice it feels to have you against him.

a small whine causes him to look down at you a few moments later, his hand reaching down to rub against your blanket-covered leg calmingly. he barely realizes he’s doing it, not until his phone vibrates next to him and he sees yeosang’s name appear.

his eyes shoot up to see the boy looking at him, jaw clenched and eyebrow raised as he nods his head toward his phone.

yeosang [1:04 a.m.] you’re pushing it dick. try not to look so happy about my gf sleeping on you.

the dirty blonde is quickly humbled, removing his hand from your leg before trining his attention back to the screen; but the scene is one yeosang can’t quite shake off.

not because of something like petty jealously or a bad feeling in his stomach. simply because it reminds him of the first time you fell asleep with him, just a random night where you dozed off on his shoulder and he thought nothing of it.

he was listening to the sound of your breathing, the tv just white noise in the background as his own eyes threatened to close.

you’d only been dating for a few weeks, enjoying the closeness that comes with watching movies as you both stay in for the night. he wasn’t quite sure when you dozed off, he just knew when he asked if you wanted to watch the next part of twilight, you didn’t answer.

(yes, twilight was your idea and no, he doesn’t enjoy it or want to know how edward and bella’s wedding is gonna turn out).

he deices to replay the first one, just noise to have on in the background as he starts to doze off himself.

he’s stirred awake, however, when your body lurches forward, a gasp leaving your mouth as you shoot up from your sleep quickly. his eyes are wide as he looks up at you, thinking you’re on the verge of a panic attack or nightmare and fully prepared to help in any way he can.

but he sees your eyes are more so full of shock, looking at him and the surroundings of his room like you can’t believe you’re still here.

“are you okay? what happened?”

“i... did i fall asleep?

“uh... yeah?”

you look to be in such disbelief, he doesn’t know what to make of it. is it that odd that you would’ve fallen asleep? it’s late and dark and you said you hadn’t slept too great the night before.

you look to see his face pulled in confusion, looking at you with a mix of concern and bewilderment that makes you shake off the weird feeling inside of you.

“sorry, it’s just... i can usually never ever fall asleep around people,” you explain to him, a problem since childhood that rendered you unable to attend sleepovers or even share a room with cousins on family vacations.

your parents and doctors said it was probably just that you weren’t tired but it felt as if they were deep rooted trust issues of some kind. not allowing yourself to be unconscious or unaware in the presence of other people.

but you didn’t realize any of that with yeosang; you’ve never felt as comfortable with anyone as you do with him.

“ever since i was a kid, i could only fall asleep alone. it’s like i was too scared around other people or something,” you chuckle out, a small smirk crossing yeosang’s face as he pecks a kiss to your nose.

“hmm.. guess you just really like and trust me, huh?”

yeosang bites the inside of his cheek as the memory comes back to him, watching as your sleeping figure moves closer to seonghwa with a content look on your face.

he can only smirk at the way seonghwa seems conflicted, looking down at you with the softest, sappiest expression he’s ever seen his colder friend wear before they move to him.

yeosang moves his eyes away, training them back on the terrible scary movie that, for whatever reason, has mingi absolutely shitting his pants.

the black haired boy wakes you up at the end of the movie, sitting on the other side of you and mumbling that he’s gonna bring you to your room. you barely stir so he lifts you up effortlessly, a tired whine leaving you before you smell his familiar scent.

your eyes pop open to see him looking down at you, a sweet smile on his face that causes one to break out across your own face.

“hi.”

“hi, love. you fell asleep.”

you nod tiredly, face red and hair messy as he places you down on the bed gently. you curl up and under the blanket, letting out a tired whine as you hold your arms out with a pout.

he snorts as he joins you immediately, moving in next to you and sighing contently when your head rests on his chest. his hand runs through your hair. gently, slow and calming in a way he knows will quickly put you back to sleep.

but he needs to ask you one thing tonight. he needs to settle this once and for all so he can stop his brain from racing and thoughts from spiraling.

“baby?”

“hm?”

“do you like seonghwa?”

even in a tired daze, the question throws you off.

makes you snap your head up and rest your chin on his chest, eyes narrowed and eyebrows shooting up your forehead as you look at your boyfriend of almost a year.

“what?”

“do you like seonghwa?”

he repeats it like it’s a simple question, so straight forward and casual that you would think he was joking if it wasn’t for how serious his expression is.

“i... you’re my boyfriend, yeosang? why would i like seonghwa?”

he bites his lip at the confused expression on your tired face, twirling a piece of your hair at the top before letting it bounce back.

“was just a question, love.”

you look at him in complete shock and confusion, trying to decipher any anger or jealously on his face.

“is it because i fell asleep on him? i didn’t even know, yeosang, i just-”

“no, baby, no,” he’s quick to assure, his hands cupping your face gently. “it was really just a question, okay? i’m not mad or anything.”

you look at your boyfriend but see nothing but honesty in his eyes, reluctantly nodding your head before resting your head back on his chest. he hums quietly as you close your eyes, his chest feeling different than seonghwa’s but still just as comforting.

you don’t even have the time to wonder why you’re even thinking about that, comparing yeosang and seonghwa’s chests and smells, until you’re fast asleep again.

it took four days for you to finally admit it to yeosang.

and it wasn’t even that you lied at the time he asked - you just didn’t even realize.

you didn’t realize that, for longer than you can remember, you might’ve always had a bit of a crush on seonghwa. entranced by his handsome face and the way he carried himself.

how he always looked out for you and made you feel safe and cared for despite not owing you a thing.

but it wasn’t something that was overwhelmingly noticeable. 

you hadn’t thought about seonghwa when you were with yeosang. you hadn’t wished he was him or that the dirty blonde was the one who let you borrow a pen the first day of college.

but you did eventually come to love seonghwa. 

depend on him and look forward to seeing him and knowing that, if you didn’t have him in your life, your life would feel emptier.

but why had yeosang asked that? did he know before you did? did he see something in the way you looked or acted around his best friend? why wasn’t he mad about it?

“we can have a talk about it if you want,” yeosang said when you confessed all of this to him, sitting on your bed with a heavy pit in your stomach. 

“in fact, i think we’ll definitely have to talk about somethings. but for now... i think you should tell seonghwa.”

and if this whole situation wasn’t bizarre enough, admitting to your boyfriend that you liked another man, that surely did it. your boyfriend telling you to confess your feelings to him even though he was his best friend and you two were very much together.

“what?”

“tell seonghwa that you like him, baby,” he mumbles, his hands holding your face gently. there’s so much confusion and hesitation in your eyes he almost wants to laugh but he supposes he can’t blame you.

this whole situation is weird. and he doesn’t know how he knows this is the direction your relationship should go - he’s just felt it inside of himself for the past few weeks.

“stop looking so confused and just trust me, okay? tell him you like him and see what he says.”

so that’s exactly what you do, despite all the confusion still swirling inside of you; because as confused as you are about this entire situation, it doesn’t take away from the fact that you do like seonghwa.

you love him, even. not just as a friend and someone who’s been there for you but more. the way you feel comforted by his physical touch, physical being, how sometimes you’ve felt like, if you didn’t know any better and if things were different, your lips would’ve met with no hesitation.

“i... we should get back then,” you hear yourself say. “i didn’t realize it was that late.”

it’s the reality check seonghwa needed to, that he shouldn’t be the one making you laugh and smile while your heart and mind are still plagued by yeosang. so he nods his head, rising to his feet and looking down at you for a few seconds.

you feel a lump form in your throat at the look he gives you, butterflies threatening to erupt in your stomach as his eyes roam every inch of your face. eyes to your hair to your nose to your lips, his tongue peeking out before he nods his head down toward the beach.

"lets go, then,” he says, ignoring the slightly dejected feeling in his stomach he knows he shouldn’t have. “they might be back by now.”

you find the dirty blonde in the kitchen, hunched over a pot of boiling water as he carefully puts in a bag of ramen.

“seonghwa?” you say, creeping up on him with your hands intertwined and a blush already creeping its way on your body.

“oh, hey, y/n. you want some?”

you peek over at the chicken flavored ramen, your nose twitching when you say the bold, red, spicy printed on it; he lips quirk up into a smirk upon seeing your face.

“sorry. forgot you don’t like spicy food.”

you watch seonghwa stand over the stove for a few minutes, plopping yourself up on the counter to watch him silently. he continues what he’s doing with your silent presence there, completely going about his routine until he tells you to sit at the table with him.

there’a few more moments of silence, just him slurping and your occasional laugh until he finally realizes you came out here to say something.

“so... what’s up?”

you peek up at the boy watching you carefully, slurping a noodle into his mouth and watching some excess broth fall into the bowl.

“what do you mean?”

“don’t you wanna tell me something?” he asks, his questioning tone making your heart pound. “or ask me something? you’ve been playing with your fingers for the past fifteen minutes.”

you let out a sigh as you drop your hands to your lap, watching him with a look of mock disdain on your face; curse this boy for knowing you so well.

“it’s a little... random,” you begin, not quite sure how to approach this. 

you’ve never confessed to someone before, especially not per the request of your boyfriend, but you have to imagine these are all the feelings that comes with it.

nervousness in your stomach and warmth fluttering throughout your body, hoping and praying that he like you back because if not, you’re gonna ruin this friendship and that’s not something you want at all.

“and maybe even shocking. but... i think i have to tell you and i hope you don’t think it’s weird. it’s something i just realized within these past few days and i... i don’t wanna ruin anything between us.”

his eyebrows pull together at your words, dropping his utensils on the table as he looks over your face carefully. his stomach’s quickly consumed by nervous, anxiety-ridden knots, looking over your face for any hint of emotion.

but you just seem to look as nervous as him.

“you wouldn’t, you couldn’t,” seonghwa assures gently, his voice deep and soft as he speaks to you and only you; you’re freaking him the fuck out but he’s trying to remain as calm as possible.

“what is it?”

you bite down on your lip as you look at seonghwa, his deep brown eyes staring at you so intensely it makes your stomach flutter. you don’t know how you didn’t reaize sooner that you liked him.

“i.... i like you,” you tell him, voice shaky and soft but the words already out - you’ve said them and there’s no going back. “i like you, seonghwa. a lot.”

it feels as if there’s a giant weight off your shoulders the second you say it, the butterflies in your stomach at an all time high. it feels good to finally say this, finally realize and admit it and let it out into the universe.

“i think i might even love you the way i love yeosang. i didn’t realize because of him, i guess, but now i know i love you both. i don’t know if that’s normal or possible but i really do, seonghwa. i hope that’s not weird for-”

the first thing you taste is the faint spice of chicken broth, unfamiliar but remarkable lips covering yours that you meet back instantly. seonghwa hums against your mouth as he pulls your chair closer to him, the sound of it scraping against the floor going unnoticed by both of you.

you’re only consumed by the feeling of his lips, the small noises leaving your mouth and the desperation of his kiss. how it feels like he’s been wanting to do this for so long, kiss you and touch you and show you how much he’s loved you from afar.

his hand grips your face as he pulls you closer, his deeply mumbled moan of your name against your lips causing you to whine against him. allow his tongue into your mouth and giggle when they collide into one another.

all the kissing stops though the second you hear another voice, the sound of the footsteps approaching you before a hand smacks into the concrete wall harshly.

“i told you to confess. you guys are making out?”

february - junior year

the first thing you learned about polyamorous relationships was that they’re all very different.

the way they come about, the rules in which couples establish, how and why people choose to be in them. there’s not some one size fits all for any relationship in life and that stands true for you, yeosang and seonghwa.

admittedly, things were weird in the beginning. navigating between yeosang and seonghwa comfortably and getting used to having not one but two boyfriends.

there were insecurities to quell on both sides, naturally, and you learned how do that.

assure yeosang that he was enough and that you stayed in love with him for a reason. assure seonghwa that he was enough and that you fell in love with him for a reason too.

many reasons that all became too much and morphed into one another, rendering you, both, loyal and locked down to two men who constantly tested you.

the first test being the blanket dilemma.

without fail, no matter the weather and no matter the sleeping position, you woke up without a blanket. 

you were either curled into seonghwa’s warm body, your legs intertwined and his arms around you, or had your back trapped against yeosang’s chest.

his arms wound tightly around your waist, the steady rise and fall of his breath on your skin as seonghwa laid there with the queen size blanket half on him and half on the floor; that’s what this morning was like, too.

you slowly untangled yourself from yeosang, crawling over to seonghwa until you plopped yourself down on him clumsily. he stirred underneath you, attempting to move and stretch his body with the weight of you on top of him.

you bend down to peck his cheek lightly, smiling when his handsome, sleeping face barely changes. 

you decide to play a little bit more, moving your body back and forth against him teasingly. the movements somehow wake the black-haired boy next to you, his eyes popping open and a smirk on his face as he watches you grind against seonghwa.

“what are you doing, baby?”

his voice causes you to jump, a quiet chuckle leaving him as you move your arms to showcase the stolen blankets.

“he can’t keep doing this!” you whisper-scream, a look of frustration on his face. “every morning it’s either you or him stealing all the blankets and leaving us freezing.”

yeosang rolls closer so he’s in your warm spot in the middle, looking up at you as his hand rests on your waist. you’re only wearing one of his white t-shirts, your nipples peeking through the material not at all helping his morning wood.

“and you think grinding over his dick is gonna help?”

your cheeks flush as you stick your tongue out at him immaturely, tuning back to run your fingers through seonghwa’s dirty blonde hair. 

the slow, calmingly movements cause tired groans to leave his mouth, his eyes eventually popping open before a smirk crosses his face.

“hi, baby girl,” his deep morning voice drones, one hand slipping past your shirt to rest on your waist. “what are you doing?”

“you stole the blanket again,” you whine, the pout on your face one he just wants to kiss off with you on top of him like this.

“i didn’t mean too,” he hums, moving you along by the hips as he feels his cock grow harder. “you had yeosang to keep you warm, no?”

the two share of look, both of them more often than no waking up horny and ready to take you. it’s not something you’re ignorant of either, watching them look at you before, suddenly, you’re pushed down onto our back.

“because, you know pretty girl, we may take the blankets but you take up a whole lot of room,” seonghwa says, his hands running through your messy morning hair.

he’s never slept with someone who kicks as much as you. who, even though you’re the smallest in the bed, take up the most space by far.

“remember the night you almost kicked me off?” he hums, a smirk on his face at the memory. his hand trails down your face, thumb pressing on your lip before he moves his hand over your chin and down your neck.

yeosang smirks when he watches you swallow nervously, his hand on your hip slipping between your thighs carefully. he doesn’t make any moves to touch you, just holds your inner thigh and allows his thumb to move slowly up and down your skin.

“he’s got a point baby,” yeosang’s voice mumbles, slightly deeper than even seonghwa’s morning voice. “you do take up a lot of room for being the smallest one here.”

with their hands on you and an intense feeling building in the air, you’re quickly being humbled. 

seonghwa’s hand trailing over your white t-shirt until it’s ghosting over your nipples, the palm of his hand on the sensitive bud causing your breath to quicken.

or that could be because yeosang’s hand is so close to your pussy, just a few inches away from touching your bare, growing wetness.

“i... i don’t mean too,” you say, growing more and more submissive and ready to whine as your two boyfriends start to cloud your senses; you were scolding them and now you’re the one being punished - how is that fair? 

seonghwa’s hand gently guides your shirt up until your bare chest hits the cold air, a deeply mumbled “fuck,” leaving him before he dips his head down and attaches his mouth to your nipple.

you let out a surprised gasp, sensations of pleasure shooting right between your legs. yeosang is readily there with his long, skilled fingers, toying with your slit and teasingly running up and down the growing wetness.

“you might not mean to,” yeosang says, eyes peeking up to see seonghwa’s face in your chest and your mouth thrown back in pleasure. “but you still do it, don’t you?”

his finger slides into you easily, a loud moan escaping you that has seonghwa smiling against your boob. his other hands move over to tweak with your nipple, yeosang keeping up his movements as he curls his finger inside of you.

you’ve barely been up for ten minutes but you feel yourself about to come, both the boys far too skilled and ready to give you pleasure however and whenever you want it.

you cry out when yeosang slips another finger inside of you, seonghwa disconnecting his mouth from your nipple to kiss you deeply. skilled tongue slipping in your mouth as his lips part on yours and you’re kissing back just as desperately.

chasing your orgasm as your hips buck into yeosang’s hand.

“are you about to come?” seonghwa mumbles when he pulls back, his hand trailing over your neck and squeezing at the sides lightly. “has your pretty little pussy had enough? are you gonna come just from yeosang’s hand?”

“y-yes,” you moan out, hand reaching out to hold onto seonghwa’s shoulder. “and your mouth.”

“please, he didn’t do shit,” yeosang mutters, his fingers fucking into you with just the right amount of pressure and speed.

they both watch with lust in their eyes as you moan loudly, eyes rolling back as you throw your head into the pillow. yeosang removes his hand immediately, tapping at your hip gently.

“turn around.”

but seonghwa can tell immediately what yeosang wants to do, the dirty blonde slapping his hand away and instead gripping your hips tightly.

“you got to touch her,” seonghwa growls, bitter over the fact he didn’t get to make you ome first thing in the morning. “now i get to fuck her.”

“you waited too long to make your move,” the black-haired boy smirks, the double meaning in his words making him roll his eyes. “that’s why i got her first.”

“well, maybe if you didn’t-”

“stop,” you whine, the growing feeling of wet empitness making you frown at your two boyfriends. “one of you, please. the o-other can fuck my mouth. i’ll be good, i promise.”

seonghwa and yeosang share a look before the dirty blonde flips you over and pulls up your hips, rising your ass in the air as he holds himself on his knees. the bed is firm enough so that he doesn’t sink down, rubbing over your ass gently before landing a loud, resounding smack.

“you’re always good for us, baby girl,” he says, trailing his dick up and down your wet slit. “you’re always so so good.”

you whine as he teases you, knowing that, with seonghwa, it’s better if you’re polite and wait. he likes seeing you desperate and whining, always waiting until he says it’s okay to buck your hips or chase your own orgasm.

but he doesn’t give you the time today.

because one second you’re empty and wet and ready to scream and then the next, his hips are smacking into yours and he’s fucking the life out of you. snapping them just the right way and in just the right spots for you to be crying out into your hot and stuffy bedroom.

“seonghwa,” you moan, the slapping of skin and quiet grunts filling the room.

it’s all halted, however, when yeosang’s in front of you, his hard cock just inches from your face as he looks down at you. there’s a smirk on his face seeing you so fucked out and desperate because of them, guiding your mouth to him and smiling when you take his cock without a second thought.

your tongue laps at the tip, swirling around and around until you sink down on it further. you hold back a gag when he hits the back of your throat, your head getting into a groove that has yeosang cursing and groaning your name harshly.

“there you go, baby,” you hear seonghwa growl from behind you, his hand reaching around you play with your clit. “you take us both so well. filling you up and making you feel good, right baby?”

“r-right, seonghwa,” you moan, eyes rolling back when his cock starts hitting a certain spot inside you. he can feel you’re about to come by the way you tighten around him, by the way your head starts bobbing harsher and yeosang’s grunts grow louder and deeper.

“come first, baby. it’s okay,” seonghwa says, partially because they always want you to come first and partially because he knows he’s about to bust inside of you.

it takes you clenching and throwing your hips back against his for him to come, one last snap of his hips causing you both to release. you’re moaning against yeosang’s cock when he releases too, the vibrations and knowledge that you just came with his cock in your mouth far too much.

the room is a mess of bodily fluids, heavy breathing and sweat but it doesn’t matter. you collapse on top of the bed as seonghwa pulls out of you and yeosang massages the sides of your aw gently.

the black-haired boy mumbles sweet nothings to you as seonghwa gets a warm rag, cleaning between your legs before he kisses the top of your head sweetly.

“you did good, baby,” he mumbles, collapsing on the bed next to you and wrapping arm around your waist. the three of you lay in silence for a few moments, heart rates calming and senses coming back before yeosang looks at you with a soft, sweetness in his eyes.

“oh. and happy valentine’s day baby.”

you’ll never forget your first valentine’s day as a couple with yeosang and seonghwa.

it was only a few months after you confessed to seonghwa during your sophomore year, the three of you just starting out and establishing rules for your new relationship.

they had all been strangely easy to work out, the number one rule being to always communicate. 

be open and honest about everything one of you may being feeling, so there’s not a spiral of miscommunication and tears the way there was that one disconnected summer.

the transition had been strangely easy for all of you too, probably because yeosang knew seonghwa liked you way before he called his friend out.

the parts of it that had been hard, however, was something you least expected - telling the rest of the boys and reserving a table for three on valentine’s day.

“wait... you’re all going to dinner?” san asked, looking at the three of you with confusion on his face. “can we come? what the hell.”

“you’re not sending us off the bar again but instead leaving us alone? why can seonghwa go but not us? we wanna spend time with, y/n, too.”

“because i’m her boyfriend, bud. who are you?”

seonghwa’s deep, sarcastic voice halted all the whines and complaints immediately, everyone’s eyes wide as they look to yeosang. the black-haired boy can only smirk as he feels eyes on him, a reassuring nod that sends the house into chaos again.

asking what kind of swinger shit is going on and how long it’d been going on under their roof without them knowing.

“it’s not swinger shit, dickhead, we’re just both dating her. like... one cohesive unit that live together and take care of her. me and seonghwa both agreed to it. in fact, i think it was more so my idea.”

“it was definitely your idea,” you tell him, seonghwa’s arm around your shoulder as he watches you talk with  smile. “you’re the one who told me to tell seonghwa i liked him!”

a snort leaves yeosang and seonghwa as there’s a mix of different reviews in the crowd.

hongjoong and yunho are looking on supportively, the only two boys who had lingering suspicions about seonghwa’s feelings for you.

wooyoung, san and jongho are only slightly confused, a mix of happy and cautious like they don’t know what’s about to happen but are here for it.

and mingi is by far the most baffled, looking between you, seonghwa and yeosang before shaking his head in bewilderment.

"straight people are so weird.”

you nearly spit out your drink at dinner reliving the story with yeosang and seonghwa, the table full of meat, pasta and bread as you celebrate valentine’s day together.

going out on dates was something you also had to get used to, usually surrounded by lovey-dovey couples who only had eyes for each other; but for you guys, the dynamic was obviously different.

you’d hold seonghwa’s hand while smiling lovingly at yeosang. yeosang would have his hand on your lower back while you and seonghwa played footsie under the table.

if anyone were nosy or curious about your dynamic, they’d be able to pick up on it really quick - but you three didn’t care. it wasn’t anyone’s business but your own and as long as you guys were all happy, it didn’t matter.

“he’s such a little shit,” seonghwa mutters, a giggle leaving your mouth as yeosang raises a fork to your mouth. you open up happily, biting into a piece of chicken and chewing on the flavorful food.

you three eat until you’re ready to explode, seonghwa and yeosang splitting the check before walking out to your car. 

you half expect to go back home, lay out in bed with them and spend the rest of the night watching cheesy romantic comedy, until you realize you’re in the car for a while.

your head resting on the chair as you turn to look at yeosang.

“where are we going?”

“it’s a surprise,” he mumbles, your mouth dropping open as you look at seonghwa in the back seat.

“wait.. do you know?”

he shrugs his shoulders with a smirk pulling at his lips, a whine leaving your mouth as you wack both of them in the arms.

“that’s not fair! please tell me, too!”

“we’re almost there, baby, c’mon,” seonghwa mumbles, moving closer to take your face in his hands. “come back here with me.”

“no,” yeosang says, taking one hand off the wheel to hold your arm tightly; but seonghwa’s at an advantage, picking you up over the console and dragging you up and onto his lap.

he drowns out the sounds of yeosang’s yelling, securing you onto his lap as you straddle him with a chastising look on your face.

“that was dangerous,” you mumble, a snort leaving him as he shakes his head at you.

“it’s fine,” he mumbles, your lips meeting in a kiss that you meet back immediately. 

yeosang looks in the rearview mirror when he hears the sounds of lips smacking and muffled moans, throwing an empty water bottle that just misses seonghwa’s head.

“i’m not your fucking uber driver,” yeosang snaps, “don’t make out when i can’t join.”

“hear that, baby? he wants to kiss me, too.”

you muffle your giggles into his chest, seonghwa and yeosang bantering back and forth as you rest your head on seonghwa’s chest. he’s warm and toned underneath you, the gentle lull of the car causing your eyes to close.

you’re not sure if you fall asleep, you think you’re in that weird space of consciousness and slumber, when you hear yeosang mumbling your name. his lips are by your ear and you look up at him sleepily, a smile on his face when he tells you to wake up.

you look around to see you’re still in the car, the black leather interior one you’re very used to by now. but what you’re not used to seeing is the ocean outside the windows, a gasp leaving your mouth that quickly wakes you up.

you run out and onto the beach, yeosang trailing behind as he shouts your name with a smile.

seonghwa and him had already set up the blankets on the sand, a cooler full of drinks and snacks off the side.

“yeosang told me this was your first date,” seonghwa mumbles, his arms wrapping around your waist. “gotta admit, pretty smooth even for him.”

a smile brightens your face as you peck his lips, intertwining your hands before reaching out to grab yeosang’s.

you drag the two boys out to the freezing ocean, both of their desperate pleas to not freeze their balls off going unheard by you. you just giggle and pull them out further, squealing when the freezing water hits you feet and you jump up.

they both move to catch you, yeosang catching one leg and seonghwa catching the other as you hold yourself above them.

“baby, this was your fucking idea,” yeosang complans, the smile on his face proving he’s not bad in the slightest.

you frolic around with the two boys until your feet are numb. giggling and squealing when seonghwa catches you around the waist and pecking yeosang’s lips when you fall back and collapses on top of you.

“i love you,” he mumbles against your mouth, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you smile against him.

you spend the rest of the night cuddled between them, your head on seonghwa’s stomach as yeosang sits next to you, playing with your fingers and blowing hot air on your cold hands.

it’s calm and peaceful and everything you’ve ever wanted. 

there’s a different type of feeling in the air compared to the first time you were here with just yeosang, something that feels right and sweet and like without, both, yeosang and seonghwa here, it just wouldn’t be the same.

“i love you,” seonghwa mumbles when you look up at him, his hands twirling through your hair as he bends down to peck your lips.

all your cheeks are red from the wind and the tips of your fingers are freezing but you don’t wanna leave just yet. you just wanna stay here together, enjoy the silence and the crash of the waves and the occasional squawk of a brave seagull.

maybe even wait until the sun comes up to watch the sunrise, if you guys don’t completely freeze to death together.

january - senior year

your trip to the mountains doubled as a two year anniversary/graduation celebration.

the three of you were still as strong as ever, dealing with bumps in the road that all couples went through: fits of miscommunication, times of insecurity, even acknowledging that, sometimes, you need seonghwa and yeosang for different things.

seonghwa’s the boyfriend who understands you. 

is similiar to you and knows the way your introverted mind works. you go to him when you feel most uncomfortable in a crowd, like at frat parties or in bars where you know yeosang just thrives.

but yeosang’s the one who pushes you to do extraordinary things - maybe not even extraordinary, just things you normally wouldn’t do; he’s the one who pushed you to do you research with your professor that ended up allowing you to graduate one semester early with them.

so in order to celebrate, you three rented a house in the mountains with one bedroom, a giant movie room and a hot tub on the balcony.

spent a week in the snowy, picturesque country where you lounged around in bed, soaked in the hot tub and became even more sure that this is what you wanted for the rest of your life.

to wake up next to seonghwa and yeosang, even if it meant having the blankets ripped off of you in the night.

to live with them and build a life together with them, deal with the bickering that comes with dating best friends who have known each other for their entire lives.

to act surprised when, in a few years when you’re settled with jobs and a house, they buy you matching wedding bands to show off the fact that you’re theirs.

[vtmb2s]

Past 1, 3, 6, 8 for Jason my beloved and Present 5-8 for Jenny annnd Future 2, 5, 7 for Helena! 😏

─ JASON

1. Briefly describe the way their parents grew up, and how it affected the way they raised them.

Both his parents were two regular middle class new yorkers, Frank (his dad) grew up in New York's suburbs and had a very conventional upbringing, he was the middle child of three siblings and thus kind of ignored so he usually just minded his own business... that very much carried over into adulthood, he was very reclusive and didn't really bother spending much time with his family -_-

Jason's mom, Gina, was a 2nd generation italian-american who grew up in a huge family with a billion siblings and cousins who are all very different from her husband. She liked it in the beginning but she became more and more unhappy and kind of underwhelmed. She really projected all her dreams of ever becoming someone on her kids that failed with her because she was stuck in a boring marriage with the most unambitious and boring man ever 😑

3. Describe their family. Who raised them, and who had the most impact on them? Did they have any siblings? Who were they closest to? What were the family dynamics like?

This ties in with the previous question but Frank was a bit of a loser, not particularly attractive and more timid & shy.. he was a very unambitious guy who worked a boring office job all his life without any intention of climbing the ladder. He really spent most of his time off work with his boring little loser hobbies :/

Gina was a much more spirited and lively person than her husband, Jason takes a lot more after her than his dad. She wasn't a great mother by all means due to the fact that she was unhappy in her marriage and with her life and kind of took that out on her kids, in a way where she placed certain expectations on them which Jason never really met. They weren't particularly close due to Jason's more.. rebellious nature he had as a kid, which in turn made him cause more trouble because that was the only way his parents gave him any attention at all :/ He also has an older brother, Richard, who their mother very obviously favored. Frank didn't really give a fuck about either of his sons -_-

He had a very close relationship with his mother's family though, particularly with one of her brothers. Carlo (said uncle) was a lot like him and never had any kids on his own so he became somewhat of a father figure to Jason :-)

6. Did the location they grew up in affect them significantly? Do they still go there?

He grew up in some little house in New York's suburb, not the prettiest house there because they didn't make enough for one of the nicer looking ones. He's not that fond of the boring suburbs (even in Boston), he spent more time in the city with his relatives and preferred that over his actual home. Other than that it didn't affect him much 🤷‍♀️

8. What was their childhood/teenage bedroom like?

A small little room with an ugly sports wallpaper that his parents never bothered to replace as he got older. It always looked a little messy and had a few mismatching mid-century decorations and furniture in there. As he grew older he started to cover the walls with random posters he had, to hide the ugly baseball wallpaper.

─ JENNY

5. What kind of people do they usually interact with? Who are their friends, the people they look up to/trust, and who are their “associates”?

She interacts with all sorts of people in New Bordeaux' criminal underworld - if you do anything illegal chances are you'll know Jenny. As for her actual friends, she's friends with the 3 other criminal 20 year olds in town, Danny, Lincoln, Ellis, unfortunately Giorgi (frenemies would be more fitting) and Lena. Her closest and best friends would definitely be Gavin (of @dannyburke fame)and Juliet (of @jennystahl fame) though, they're also pretty much the only ones who would fall into the "people she trusts" category... they're the only ones she'll have long weed induced therapy sessions at 1 am while the monkees are on tv.

6. What is their current relationship with their family?

Complicated... the love is there and all that, it's more of a business relationship though rather than a parent-child thing, especially with her dad. It's nothing that she ever questions (until aforementioned therapy sessions with her friends), she grew up in an environment where affection isn't really something she sees often and almost all her friends have messed up relationships with their parents too so while there is some resentment she never really questions that the way they raised her might not be ideal :c

The relationship with her siblings is complicated as well, especially because they're both a LOT younger than her. She was an only-child until the age of 13 and moved out of her childhood home when they were eight and six years old so there's this weird disconnect but there's a relationship nonetheless, which is weird. Eldest daughter AND only child disease 😓Not to mention that her parents are looking to make her little brother head of the family because he's a boy or whatever.. drama!

7. Do they have a partner? How did they meet, and what’s their relationship like now?

Yes.. she and Ellis met on some random job in the Hollow in 1963 that her dad was taking her along with (he and Sammy did random deals together and were also good friends 😌) and Jenny was like wow how boring. What if I just talk to this this guy's sons instead.... she thought he was some annoying teenage guy and only really talked to him whenever necessary (when her dad's business trips to Sammy's got REALLY boring). She forced herself to hang out with him more after Lincoln went to Vietnam and realized he's not so bad so they became friends :)

In actual game canon nothing really happens because he dies, Jenny just becomes sad that her friends were killed (him, Danny, Sammy and maybe Michael too because of Juliet connection.. she doesn't give a fuck abt Giorgi anymore that little rat can die) and wonders if she liked that goofy little guy with the ugly shirts, but in any case it's too late now.

We're doing au's here though (also this is as of '68) so in the good timeline they get together in 1968.. sort of. It's not a friends with benefits thing, more that sort of relationship that you know will end sooner or later for various reasons, so you're kind of living in the moment and have fun while it lasts. It IS genuine and not just about hooking up from time to time of course, it's just not the kind of thing that was built to last because it's based off of a dumb 20 year olds friendship and one of them (Jenny) doesn't really plan on sticking around in New Bordeaux. But well, who knows what will happen 😏

8. What hobby or pastime of theirs do they consider most important to them and why?

Well, she's big on making music, she plays the guitar and sings (she has a pretty nice voice c: ), she grew up in a pretty fucked up environment so that was her sort of escape in her youth, to be a normal kid who's playing the guitar very very badly. She doesn't play it badly as a 23 year old anymore of course and it's a little thing she shares with her best friends so that means a lot to her 😳

─ HELENA

2. Are they content with their future situation? Is there anything they would change?

Well, she's certainly not happy with the whole vampire situation - her dreams of becoming famous for acting were pretty much ruined, now she's legally dead and nothing more than a photo on true crime blogs and conspiracy theory websites... Famous but for the wrong reasons, in a way she's more bitter about "dying" before she had the chance to become famous than about the whole vampirism thing herself. There would have been something incredibly poetic about a beautiful young actress dying at the height of her career, now she's just some random nobody :/

It could be worse though. She's known among L.A. vampires for her lack of loyalty to any of the factions (despite her working for the Camarilla earlier) and her just helping whoever she feels like which is fine to her, most of them will just leave her alone. In any case, she's not in Los Angeles anymore after the events of Bloodlines!!

5. Did they get married or have a family? Why? If otherwise, why not?

See she would like to get married eventually, making a promise to love someone and be with them for eternity (literally... because... vampires) is incredibly romantic and she would love that (THIS is her wedding... not really because she's not that cringe but also.. yeah), so who knows what might happen.

Family though, no!! Starting one isn't possible, at least not with biological children since she's a vampire. It doesn't bother her that much, she always did envision herself with one child in the future but she's not desperate to be a mother anyway so she doesn't beat herself up about it. She does wonder what it might be like to have children and laments it from time to time (she's a little overdramatic) but overall she doesn't mind that much.

7. Are their friends still a part of their life? Are there people they are no longer in touch with, or newly important people?

Yes, sort of! As I mentioned before she's not in L.A. anymore post-bloodlines and she never had many friends there to begin with so she keeps in touch with the few she has there. She miiight make a few new (or old) connections once shes out of Los Angeles too, who knows!

[clementineesotsm]

THE KING: ETERNAL MONARCH EP 8, My Appreciation and How It Made Me Feel

We are seeing KSJ receive information about Gon doppelgänger. And immediately grow curiosity on what is JTE try to found out with it. And he actually go to the graveyard and see little Gon face and stuck there for a few seconds until someone came. That someone is this kids mom. And also shock about the fact after all this years someone visiting her son’s tomb. And i love the sense that things are starting to change in a favorable situation

Then JY finally catch the restaurant owner that Gon suspects he knew him. And upon seeing this guy, JY believe that this man knows them. I found JY is very cool here. Now i can feel him as a real bodyguard for Gon because of how his personality and how he do the orders and all his action, amazing.

So this restaurant owner also brings the 2G phone, and Gon found out that this phone is working in 1 way, only for receiving call. The words in the conversation are cool and smart. I appreciate LMH acting also here because not only facial expressions but also his voice intonation is suitable and precise. Eventhough he is angry, he spoke without anger at first. Very calm. Eventhough he is feeling really angry he try not to show to the man to intimidate him i guess. Cool 👍 most fave line

Gon “You must be one of those who stood on my fathers blood. And you came here as a compensation for that bloodbath?”

Rest. owner “That is called balance. It is reasonable and fair. You were lucky enough to be born with everything, so dont whine about losing a father” 🤬

Then the way he holds JY to punch the guy while clinch his hands on the phone is very good thinking. As i can feel him very angry now. Also his voice changing, shaking with anger. Try to calm he says

Gon “only God can restore that ‘balance’. What you scoundrels are doing is murder. Remember that”

I cant believe my eyes to see this Gon in this scene. He is totally different from the Lee Gon i watch 7 episodes before, his character is getting more interesting. This character shown when he face a threat (i guess). I love to see more of him in this circumstances actually

He is asking this guy to take his own life and the way he said its is a suicide order give me chills

After this nervewrecking scenes, we are back to see another Gon which totally different around JTE. Love birds 💕 i love how JTE said to Gon “you should’ve done (tailed her) yourself. Why send someone else?” I love her complaining to his bf 🥺

They did being sweet a little before discussing about the case of Gon doppelgänger. JTE inform him that all his family doppelgänger passed away except for his mother doppelgänger. JTE asking Gon to come to see her tomorrow.

This episode also we got a repetitive flow of PM receiving newspaper that is actually coming from Korea because the headline is about trump, BTS and a picture of her inside the newspaper. And as PM said, “a repeating pattern means its a sign” damn she is smart.

We see quite much of KSJ memories from his childhood and its kind of keeps us guessing, why he knew this? What is this memory? And apparently KSJ also curios, and just in time he met JES and saw JY handphone. KSJ decide to go to hotel where Gon stay, and looking around. He found the Corea logo that always linger in his memory, he is not aware that JY is there, being off guard he had a duel with JY. Then he founf out that JY is not JES. The fighting scene between them is great, the whole choreography, the camera movements, they facial expressions, are on another level. The level of greatness that this series gave me was very high

Gon came with his guarded but very calm attitude which gave me a King vibe a lot 💕 the conversation in this scene also well made and well executed. I think KSJ is the second person who calls Gon by his name. KSJ asking whether he is Lee Gon? Gon thinks he knew it from JTE but nope 😱 he hears Gon wailing. It means, are you ready?!! I love how This series did not give us direct answers like “KSJ is from Corea” but instead we got this

Gon “아마도 내가 자네의 주군인 듯싶거든” (it seems like, I am your King)

This ending of episodes 8 was a bomb and amazing. The scoring too, amazing. All thumbs up in the world for them 👍👍👍👍👍

How it made me feel:

As if i watch such a very good movie or series, im craving for more. And during it airs we need to wait for another week to reach eps 9, which is annoying. They leave us with such bomb! But i love it.

I respect KES now that she came with a cool way of writings with TKEM. I havent found any single words which is cringey so far. All are smart, rich and elegant. It was not straightforward and having hidden meanings and also using many cool references, its added well to the story. It was fun. And how i love the unproblematic love story between the boy and the girl. They just need to solve the main issue rather than being childish about unimportant things. I love how mature the love story. I love how great they build the tension of what comes next. And they basically using all the talents accordingly and every character are really breathing and has their own story. Even the supporting act who plays Jang Yeon Ji, i feel her presence. Im amazed.

But then again, this episodes have the most numbers of direct PPL (the way they put it in the script is 😅) which iritates many people and causing they dont give this series a chance. I hate it, but what can we say, they need money to fund this series and the most possible way its through advertisement, it was unfortunate but for us who stay untill the end and found the beauty in it, we rock! 😎 because other than the PPL this series are one of the best ever made, at least based on what i watched from 2004 - now.

[darlingsdevil]

The Ballads of Rebirth (Arthur Morgan x Reader)

Chapter 11: The Resurrection of The Light

Masterlist

A/N: Hi guys! I’m still alive lol. I’ve had a lot going on, and when I usually write (on Saturday’s) have now been taken up by five hour rehearsals (rip me). An extra long chapter for you guys. I did a lot of editing, as I wasn’t originally happy with how this chapter played out. Also, we’re close to the end. Lee’s ending and Arthur’s ending (canon ending) will be two chapters each! After the original fifteen, there will be four more. The split will be at chapter 15, unless it ends up being longer (which it probably will). I’ll be writing some oneshots and AU’s + playlists for the finale. Still playing around with a few final ideas.. think I have it all set up (mostly..). I will say however, both endings will end relatively happy. Relatively.

Hope you enjoy

Also, if you understand the title, you are super cool B)

•••

“What the hell do you mean she’s gone?” Lee yelled.

“What does it sound like? She’s not in the room anymore.” Arthur quipped back, becoming increasingly annoyed.

Lee ran to the stockroom, you weren’t there. Then to his father's room, you weren’t there either. Mr. Rinascita was sleeping. Lee hoped he wouldn’t be woken.

Panic rose in Lee, it felt suffocating. He pushed the door open, shouting your name into the street, looking both ways and searching for your face upon the scatters of people. No response. Arthur came down the steps, holding his gun in hand, the air around him was heavy and electric.

“Where’d you take her?” Arthur growled at Lee. Lee turned around in the street, glaring at him.

“You think I know?” Lee laughed, his voice dripping with venom. The cool air fell over him, but he was nothing but calm.

Arthur pulled him into the general store by the collar of his shirt, Lee stumbled but didn’t fall, choking and sputtering on air.

“You think I’m scared of you, outlaw?” Lee spat at him, catching his breath.

“You should be, boy.” Arthur told him.

“I’m surprised she married a man like you.”

“You don’t know the first thing about her then.” Arthur scoffed.

It was like a standoff. The two men glaring at each other with pure rage.

“She's never done anything like this before. The second you show up, she goes missing.” Lee excused Arthur.

“You really think I’d abduct my own wife?”

“I’m sure you’ve done a hell of a lot worse than that.”

“You’re right. I have. That means I won’t have any qualms about putting a bullet right between your eyes either. But lucky for you, I care about my wife, so I won’t do that.” Arthur told him, slowly lowering his gun.

Lee remained silent, narrowing his eyes at Arthur.

“We have to find her.” Lee told Arthur. Arthur nodded, setting aside his hatred for Lee for a moment's notice.

“We’ll make a report for her at the station. The police officers will know what to do.” Lee suggested.

“No, police won’t do anything. I’ll find her myself.” Arthur grumbled already walking out the door.

“You’ll get lost out there!” Lee shouted. He didn’t care if Arthur got hurt out there, but he knew you cared for him deeply, why however, he wasn’t sure.

“I’ve tracked her down before. She never goes far.” Arthur chuckled bitterly, standing in the street.

Lee was silent for a moment.

“I’m coming with you.” Lee told him with confidence.

Arthur turned to Lee, raising a brow.

“Boy, you don’t know what’s out there. I’m sure she’s gotten herself into some sort of trouble already. Do you even know how to handle a gun?” Arthur asked him. Lee was angry, Arthur was talking down to him like a dog.

“No, but I’m sure I could learn. Besides with you, tough mountain man, I’m sure I wouldn’t need it.”

Arthur scoffed, but held open the door for him.

“Wait, I.. I have to check on my dad.” Lee said, worry filling him. Arthur was halfway out the door, ready to leave Lee behind.

“Wait! Please!”

Arthur swiveled around, waiting for Lee to move.

“The longer the wait the further she’s gone.”

“Please.” Lee begged him. Arthur understood, a long time ago he would have done the same for a certain father figure.

“Alright. Go on. Quickly.” Arthur sighed, leaning against the door frame.

Lee nodded, rushing up the stairs.

He was gone a few moments, and they were out the door and down the street in another.

Arthur was sure you headed for the hills, as you couldn’t go anywhere else since the river blocked that entry off. He hadn’t seen much of the terrain up there, only seeing it from a distance.

“We’ll head for the hills, she probably isn’t anywhere in the city.” Arthur told Lee, Lee kept a watchful eye, making sure none of the few strangers on the street were you. You could easily be hidden within the crowds of strangers during the day, but it was night and few people were out.

“How do you know she’s not in the city?” Lee questioned him as they continued their search.

“Everytime she goes missing she never stays in the city. She’s gone missing a few times before, usually when things start getting rough and she needs time to cool down.”

Lee was dumbfounded, he couldn’t imagine you thinking so rashly. But then again, you were very different before he knew you. Living with a gang, being a wanted outlaw, even marrying one. It still felt surreal to him.

Arthur remembered you went missing the day he earned his death sentence at the doctors office, he pushed you away and you ran. You were gone for two days, and when you came back you were even more upset towards yourself that you had left him when he needed you so badly, unfortunately he couldn’t look for you, there was too much going on and no one else seemed to notice you were missing either. It rained that day, like the sky was weeping for the both of you.

The men walked in silence, their heels clicking against the cobblestone streets.

“Did you miss her?” Lee asked him as they continued their search.

Arthur was silent for a moment.

“Of course I did. Everyday, everyday I woke up and my heart ached because I had no idea where she was, or if she was even alive. I missed her every damn day, and now I’ve returned to her.” Arthur’s voice was heavy with emotion. Lee could see the longing in his eyes, shamed burned in him, hidden by his wall of pride he had put up. Lee acted foolishly, automatically assuming Arthur fit the stereotype of the rugged outlaw, and perhaps he did and he had already seen that side of Arthur, but he had just seen the kind, emotional side of him. If you hadn’t fit the conventional outlaw style and he had given you a chance, why shouldn’t he give Arthur a chance?

And then Lee remembered. Arthur was the one thing standing in Lee’s way.

“I can tell she still loves you.”

“And she loves you too. Awful situation, ain’t it?” The two men laughed.

“I guess so.” Lee mumbled through his chuckles. He examined the faces of every person he had seen on the deserted streets, glanced down every alleyway and you were nowhere to be found. Arthur knew you wouldn’t have hidden in plain sight, you weren’t like that.

“How’d you even meet her?” Arthur asked him. They had reached the outskirts of the city, the houses were bigger and newer, large sprawling farm houses with new projects being added damn near everyday. The forest was about a mile out, with various hills that shot upwards making the land look like an ancient land giant, slumbering away for the rest of eternity. Perhaps if the men listened hard enough, they could hear the soft snores of an urban legend.

“She came with a family. A man, a woman and a boy. The man had scars, I remember. They looked like they had been running for days, and I bet they were, from what she has told me about all that,” Lee told him. Arthur nodded in response.

“They stopped in the store, she asked if we had any openings, we didn’t really need another set of hands but my father insisted on hiring her. The rest is history.” Lee finished.

Arthur was silent, taking in his words.

“How’d you meet her in that gang?” Lee asked him after a moment. Arthur looked surprised that Lee had known of his past, but recovered quickly.

“Well.. I’d been in the gang for about 10 or so years when she came along. We saved her from a gang who’d kidnapped her.” Lee stared in awe at Arthur, he had such a vibrant story, one worthy of the novels his father reads. Lee was a simple shop clerk, having never left the city and would probably never have to leave. This was the most exciting thing that had possibly ever happened to him but to Arthur, it was simply another day.

“She only trusted me at first, stuck by my side like a stray dog, but I was foolish and was still in love with a woman who couldn’t love me back so we wasted a few of the years we could’ve been together. Boy, was that girl wild. She could pull a gun on you faster than you could blink. One thing led to another, we got married, and then it all went to hell.” Arthur finished.

Perhaps it was foolish to walk through the outskirts of Richfield, at night no less. Both men hadn’t quite thought it through, blind by their love for you. Arthur was keeping a watchful eye on the ground, the rain had created mud but there were wagon and horse tracks covering a majority of the muddy dirt road.

“Should we shout her name?” Lee asked after a moment.

“No, I’m sure she’s in the woods. If we shouted her name she’d no doubt hide.”

“I still think we should enlist the police. What if she didn’t escape, what if someone kidnapped her?”

“I’m a wanted outlaw, and she’s still wanted too, I’m sure of it. Members of the Van der Linde gang are still at large after the mess we made down south. She’s too smart to get kidnapped.”

Lee’s eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. He was beyond worried. With the new arrival of your recently revived husband, and the wedding two weeks away, you could easily get cold feet and leave him, and to top if all off you could have been kidnapped, or ran away and never come back like his sister had. He felt his emotions bubbling inside him, how long would it be till he cracked?

“My sister ran off and never came back.” Lee told Arthur solemnly, the twigs crunching underneath their shoes.

“I’m sorry that happened to your sister, but I don’t think this will happen to my wife.”

“You better be right, Mr. Morgan.” Lee was annoyed at Arthur’s nonchalant response, you could have been seriously injured and he had barely any worry, like it was simply another day. It angered Lee.

They walked for a few more minutes, there were barely any tracks made by human footprints in the road and the night had begun to become disheartening for both of them. Your lack of presence took a toll on both men, more so on Lee.

Wolves howled in the distance, far off, Lee froze.

“We should turn back.” Lee spoke frantically.

Arthur turned around, looked back towards the road and then to Lee again and nodded.

“Maybe those wolves found John Marston instead.” Arthur mumbled, humor in his voice.

“Who’s John Marston?” Lee asked as they made their way back to the general store. It was a long walk home, the two men dreading it already.

“A close friend. Well, he’s not a friend. More like a brother to (Y/N) and I. Well anyways, he got attacked by wolves while we were in the mountains, more south then we are now, near Valentine - if you know where that is. Was a few months before everything went to hell. Never let him live it down for a moment.”

“I’ve never heard of it.” Lee responded. The city was somewhat closer now, the street lamps looked like fireflies in the distance.

“I live close to that city now, with a friend, he built the cottage for us when I was still sick.” Arthur continued.

“You were sick?” Lee looked at him.

“Yeah, really sick for awhile. Did some bad things before I had realized how sick I was, and I guess it was an eye opener of sorts. Did some bad things to my wife too when I was sick, but it’s in the past now, I’m just glad I found her again.” Arthur told him slowly. Lee saw it then, why you had fallen for him, and why with Arthur still around you would never truly be his. You and Arthur had something Lee didn’t, and that was history. But Lee’s love for you was real, and that’s all that mattered. Lee would stand his ground and fight for your love. He just hoped you would make the right choice in the end.

•••

Mr. Rinascita was furious with Lee. Lee finally confessed to your absence during dinner on the first day in. Lee hadn’t mentioned Arthur yet, there was enough on his father's plate already. Lee had never seen his father so angry, usually the calm, but cheerful man..

“You lost your fiancé?” Mr. Rinascita said glaring daggers into Lee’s eye’s. Lee tried to explain things as calmly as he could, while avoiding the major details of Arthur’s arrival, simply stating an old friend had resurfaced and it overwhelmed you.

Lee nodded slowly.

“Well then what the hell are you doing waiting here? Go find the police, get them to find her. I won’t have what happened to your sister happen to her! Partire!” Mr. Rinascita yelled, shooing him away. Lee scurried to the door and pulled on his coat.

Next, Lee nearly ran to Arthur’s hotel, which was literally just down the street from the general store, and quickly told him what was going on. Arthur understood, but still opposed the idea. Arthur was sure to tell Lee to leave your real name out of it and only tell them your first name and Lee’s own last name, Rinascita.

After that was the police station. It was bustling with people, officers making reports at their desks and the jail cells holding multiple criminals. The woman at the front desk smiled at him sweetly.

“I’d like to make a missing persons report.” He told her, resting his hands on the wooden counter.

She nodded and pulled something out of a cabinet, handing him a paper and a pen. The woman told him to fill it out and once he was done and an officer would speak with him.

The paper held basic information, your name, age, height, last known location and place of residence. He wrote it all down and turned it back to the front desk. She led him to a desk that was incredibly clean and orderly and asked him to sit down.

The chair was rickety. The police station smelled of old wood with a mixture of gunpowder, it did not calm Lee’s nerves. He had never been inside a police station, or even talked to a police officer. This entire process was new to him. Lee secretly wished Arthur was here, Arthur would have been able to give the officers more information than he could have.

Lee’s foot tapped against the wooden floor rapidly, officers walked by him, paying him no mind. The desk he sat at was incredibly orderly and larger than a majority of the others. He felt out of place, ordinary, when probably everyone in the room had a much greater story than he had.

A police officer sat down, catching him off guard. Lee shifted uncomfortably.

“Hello, Mr. Rinascita,” The police officer said, setting down his paper file.

Lee responded with a small greeting. The police officer was young, possibly in his late twenties, like Lee. But his eyes were tired and cold, with a steely gaze that made you feel as though everything you said was the wrong answer.

“How long has your wife been missing?”

•••

The next day, a group of officers went to look for you. They started their search at eight in the morning and came back empty handed at nine at night. Lee’s anxiety grew as the search continued, the police officers didn't allow him to come. Sitting, waiting for you to return home to him was one of the worst pains he ever experienced. His father barely talked to him, his fury needing no words. Arthur hadn’t been to the general store, simply assuming Arthur had been searching for you as well. Lee felt useless, sitting in the store, watching the windows for your safe arrival home. It was truly dreadful. He hated every second of it.

Lee filled the void in his heart with working non stop, sweeping the floors every two hours, making sure the shelves were stocked and kept orderly. It was the only thing keeping him sane.

When nine rolled around, the police officer head of your case, came into the store. The same man with the judgemental gaze. He had learned to loathe that man already, speaking to the officer brought him no comfort.

The cop, Officer Clark seemed to be the bearer of bad news. Clark was discerning to say the least, pessimistic.

“We did find evidence of her at a small camp, a few miles outside of the city. The hounds were able to follow a trail, but wolves scared them off. We were close too, some of the men believe she could have been in the trees where we turned back. We’ll start the first thing in the morning again.” Officer Clark said cooly. Lee let out a sigh he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, he leaned on the counter.

“Thank you, Officer Clark. Truly.”

“You’re welcome. We will find your wife.”

The word wife seemed so natural. Like it was meant for Lee and you alone.

Officer Clark smiled and left. The first genuine emotion Lee had seen on Officer Clark since their first interaction. He left quickly after that.

Lee was closer to you. Closer then it seemed he had ever been, yet you were separated from him by miles of land. He learned things about you, new things. Despite the shocking information he learned, he loved you even more. Your absence made him realize how much he truly loved you, you were his second half.

Lee would wait for you to return to him, no matter how long it took.

•••

[sarareynolds]

Random Asks: Part III

101. From 1-10, how good of a dancer do you consider yourself?

5? I can dance well enough to call it dancing. Admittedly, my scale is a little broken. 

102. How much of a patient person are you?

Overall, I am super patient, and then eventually, I hit a day where I find I have none, where I'm am reduced to an over-tired, screaming-and-cying toddler who just needs to be held and told it's ok.

103. Do you know your IQ?

I don't and I'm not going to pull up an internet quiz to prove I'm probably relatively average in that respect.

104. Do you eat meat at all?

Yes.  

105. Do you own any clothes from a garage sale or a thrift store?

I am very good at thrifting. I enjoy finding the designer thing for 30 bucks or buying an item of clothing that's really dated but has all the potential to become something new. Thrift shops bring out my creative side. 

106. Have you ever bought anything from a flea market?

Same. Same thing as above. I enjoy the treasure hunt of it all. 

107. Have you ever quit a job?

Yes. 

108. Have you ever gotten a song you dislike stuck in your head?

Yes, I have. Some of the worst songs are earworms. 

109. Any movie(s) you can watch over and over and over again and enjoy just as much each time?

Yes, but in general they are not "happy" films. I friggin love Eternal Sunshine. 

110. Do you or have you ever worn glasses?

Not in any serious capacity. 

111. Have you ever skinny dipped?

I have and I'd do it again. 

112. Are your birth parents still together?

No. 

113. Have you ever been in the audience for the taping of a TV show?

I have not. Not that I couldn't, I live in New York City I could definitely do that on a whim.

114. Favorite type of cookie?

Chocolate chip. Gooey, none of that crunchy shit. I want it to ooze chocolate and maybe be the size of my face. Lol  Guys, I may have a sweets problem.

115. Have you ever been broken up with?

I haven't...

116. How often do you smile when getting your picture taken?

Most of the time. 

117. Have you ever accidentally dialed 911?

I have. Wah wah. 

118. Oldest memory?

I remember my dad taking me to a fair and we rode the rides, ate mostly deep fried sweets and finished the night with Styx. I do not know how old I was and it's in jumbled flashes but yeah, that's it. Coincidentally, also my first concert.

119. Have you ever been the victim of a nasty prank?

No. 

120. How often do you snort when you laugh?

Probably, more than I should. 

121. From 1-10, how good of a singer do you consider yourself?

5 again my scale is a tiny bit broken here. 

122. Favorite Disney song?

Poor Unfortunate Souls... Actually, my top five are villain songs, I did not realize that until now. Hmm...

123. Where do you see yourself 10 years from now?

I haven't a fucking clue. Hopefully as happy, if not more, than I am now.

124. What is your Myers-Briggs personality type?

I have never taken the time to take the test. You tell me. Lol

125. Have you ever had a fortune cookie fortune come true?

No, because they are vague advice more than predictions. 

126. Name one thing you wish people would stop posting on social media.

Those inspirational quote things. I feel like everyone that posts them is being passive aggressive or just dying for someone to go: you're going to be ok! It's annoying and pointless. If something is going on in your life talk to someone or don't. Don't post someone else's "wisdom" like your hard time makes you the wisest in the land. 

127. Last musical artist you saw live?

Twenty-One Pilots

128. Credit cards or cash?

Neutral

129. Favorite fandom?

Pokemon

130. What is your astrological sign?

Sagittarius, but this part of divination is a lot more complicated than that, that's just one aspect of your personality. It's a rabbit hole and I admittedly find it more interesting than it actually is.

131. Have you ever been fired from a job?

Yeah. 

132. Any hidden talents?

I've answered this before. I dunno, I can do the splits ... Not sure if that counts as hidden.

133. Can you surf?

I can. Granted with all the great white sharks being spotted off Jersey I am not sure I'm brave enough to do it this year.

134. What motivates you to do well in life?

Not being in a shit situation later in life? 

135. Your worst physical feature?

My hands? I don't know, sometimes I feel like they look old even if I pamper them. 

136. From 1-10, how much are you like your father?

7? More like him than I'm not. Which could be a bad thing. 

137. How lucky do you consider yourself?

Typically my answer is: not very, but recently I seem to have all the luck. 

138. Name a moment in your life when you were pleasantly surprised.

When Nik kissed me for the first time. I was honestly not expecting it nor did I expect the lightning bolt feeling that came with it.

139. Have you ever been summoned for jury duty?

Nope. 

140. What type of shoes do you wear the most?

A pair of Adidas. 

141. Favorite summer activity?

Swimming. I would live in the water. 

142. Favorite song to sing in the shower?

Um, whatever is in my head when I wake up? 

143. Have you ever lived with a roommate you did not get along with?

I have not. I've gotten along with all my roommates. I did have one who hated me but I didn't dislike her.

144. Have you ever lived on a farm?

No. Not my natural habitat.

145. Have you ever kept a diary or a journal? 

I still keep a journal. It's just a good way to start the day. 

146. TV show or movie you quote/reference the most?

Probably, Fired Up. I realize that should probably be embarrassing for me but, eh, it's super funny even if it's a dumb movie. 

147. How often do you get mad at yourself?

More than I should. I'm pretty forgiving and patient with everyone but myself. 

148. Have you ever gotten any stitches?

No, but I have been healed for an injury that a no maj would have stitched up. 

149. Have you ever been hunting?

No. Hard no. 

150. Favorite YouTube channel?

Madeyewlook 

[klutzdeluxe]

My Second Ritual - Omaha 11/6/2018

Okay. Finally, my second ritual. So it was over a month ago at this point, and I cannot believe I never put up my notes about it! It was amazeballs. Just as good as my first one in Kansas City! I met up with some super cool fans from a Facebook group beforehand and we got some supper. Some of us were VIP/photo op, so after we ate, we waited in line together. They helped me keep my sanity because I was absolutely FREAKING OUT about meeting the Cardinal. Thanks, guys! I’ve never met any sort of celebrity before. EVER.

~The moment I stepped through that curtain, I was a goner. I briefly made eye contact, felt my soul leave my body, and couldn’t look him in the face again. I shook his hand and he said, “Oh that’s quite the tight grip you’ve got!” or something along those lines. My brain short-circuits and I think I’m hurting him or some shit. I yelp, “I’m sorry!” and practically drop his hand. He wraps an arm around me and helps guide me to the photo spot because all I can do is mumble about never having done a photo op before and look at my feet. He holds me and we take the photo. I get my wits together enough to tell him, “Take care of yourself on the road!” and the Cardinal says he will and thanks me. I was so starstruck that I forgot to give my name, ask for a hug, or tell him basically anything I wanted to, so I was upset about it for a few days.

~In the end, the picture turned out decent, which is rare because I’m unphotogenic af. Plus I wrote him a card (with a cat on the front) with everything I wanted to say in it and was able to get it to another fan to give to him at their photo op. In that, I had some closure.

~We chatted with a few security guards before the show, and they really didn’t know anything about Ghost but seemed eager to learn about them. Later on, I saw the same guards bobbing their heads during the performance and taking a million pictures on their phones. It was great to see.

~To the ritual! I was third row in the orchestra pit, to my left, in which the seating was a bunch of folding chairs that would definitely not be staying in place. BOOM. Ended up right in Aether’s line of view this time. Eye contact immediately when the curtain went up during “Ashes.” Persisted throughout the whole night.

~For the record, if you’re toward the front during any show, it’s really not that hard to snag the attention of the band members. Especially if you’re a jumpy, bouncy bitch who sings along to everything like me. I was at it with my hands up the entire way through. INSTANTLY this was different than the Kansas City show. They sounded so fresh and ALIVE. You could tell they had the day off before.

~Periodically throughout the show, Aether would be jumping in time with my bunny-hopping, looking at me. It made me so freaking happy. What a goof!

~The Cardinal was annoyed about it being a Tuesday, so he made us pretend it was a Friday night instead.

~I think I got to hear him say, “For shits and giggles” at one point. I’ve never felt so blessed.

~I was one of the few belting out “Lord of silence/Desolated one/Vengeance is his” during the bridge of “Idolatrine.” Copia stared at me, gestured at me, and conducted my screechy singing.

~Waving my hands around, conducting the ghouls while they played “Devil Church” and getting various head tilts and “wtf” stares from them.

~At this point, I had been interacting with Aether from my spot quite a bit, so I cheered him on as loudly as I could during the pre-Cirice duel with Dewdrop. This time, he lost on trying to pick out A-ha’s “Take on Me.” For some stupid ass reason, my brain couldn’t figure out what the song was until I saw a video of it the next day.

~THE LITTLE GIRL GETTING CIRICED. I DIED. IT WAS SO PRECIOUS. We were all clapping so loudly for her. Also props to her for having the coolest dad in the world. I believe she did the photo op too.

~As “Cirice” ended, Aether pointed at me and attempted to throw me a guitar pick. He whiffed it, as it ended up in the hands of a man in front and to the right of me instead. Now, I missed his pick in Kansas City due to a similar circumstance, so I kind of just shrugged and pouted at him, and Aether shakes his head and throws his hands up in an apologetic gesture. I’m a bit sour about missing yet ANOTHER pick from him.

~Conducting the ghouls again during “Miasma” and just absolutely losing myself dancing to it, as you do. Aether was watching me dance. At this point, the chairs have really been moved around, in and out of the rows.

~Copia telling us to clap on the 2 and 4 of “Jigolo Har Megiddo.” The dude next to me sassed him saying, “So, 1 and 3?” very loudly. Copia stopped short and said, “NO! No, that’s stupid!”

~Copia conducting us during the vocalizing at the end of “Pro Memoria.” There’s nothing like it. It’s one of my favorite bits. Cue my screechy singing again in order to be loud.

~Dew didn’t come over to our side of the stage much but he did at some point and gave me a head tilt. I doubt he remembered me from KC. I’m kind of plain-looking.

~Swiss noticed me and started copying my dance moves during “Witch Image.” Just different ways of swaying and small hops.

~So it’s “Life Eternal” again and I’m crying. No meaningful interactions with the ghouls this time, BUT I got the smug satisfaction of seeing Dewdrop NOT interact with anyone during the song like he did with me in Kansas City. I’m horrible, sorryyyy. Chatted with some wonderful people around me during intermission.

~”Spirit” and “From the Pinnacle to the Pit” go by, and I’m getting real antsy about not still having a pick from Aether. I noticed that there is a wide open space (due to chairs being shifted and people not coming back from intermission) right in front of the stage, directly in front of Aether. “Majesty” starts up and I see that a few people have already jumped rows. I debated for a bit, looked security (who weren’t giving a rat’s ass), and climbed over seats to the open spot at the front. All of us in the VIP section paid the same price to be there, after all. Aether cocked his head at me, seeming surprised to see that I moved, and then just nodded.

~OMAHA, I’M SO PROUD OF YOU. We sang that chorus loud and proud during “Satan Prayer.” Copia was SO satisfied with us! Also his cape didn’t fasten properly so it was undone for most of the song; I nearly imploded. Also, several pairs of panties and maybe a bra were tossed onstage during this song. Copia picked up one pair and cracked a joke about, “Someone in the audience standing there bare-assed.” The other undergarments sat up there sadly, to be carried off by an unfortunate stage crewman when the song ended.

~Have I mentioned that ”Faith” is such a jam? I threw my neck out again. During the live performances, the Cardinal adds a growl during the intro that I can feel in my ass. Also Copia acts like he’s waving away a fart behind him during the “A fecal trail across the land” line. I died because it looked like he was sneaking away from cropdusting someone.

~Poor Dewdrop was so sick. During “He Is,” (I think), I saw him lift his mask a little and wipe his dripping snot on his sleeve. He went about it in a “Ewwww” kind of way.

~At the end of that one, Aether ONCE MORE points at me and tosses me a pick. It hits my fingers and falls to the floor. I drop to my knees IMMEDIATELY and scramble to find it. I do fairly quickly, stand up, and kiss it, elatedly holding it above my head in victory. Aether pumps his fist in the air when he sees me waving it around. I tuck it into my bra because “Mummy Dust” is about to start and we’re going fucking crazy. Sadly, very few bills were dropped. I did have Copia thrusting like five feet from my face though. I am eternally grateful for that experience.

~After Aether was introduced during the break in “If You Have Ghosts,” I blew him a kiss, and he caught it and clapped his hand to the side of his face, acting all bashful and cute about it. HE’S SUCH A SWEETHEART.

~For some reason, I was thinking that this was the last song, despite having been to the KC ritual. So when they played “Dance Macabre,” I was thrilled there was still more to the show and boogied around like the idiot I am. That song makes me so happy. Again, Swiss starts imitating my dance movements, adding a little more shimmying around this time. All right. Boi’s got my attention now.

~I’m trying to get good photos of Swiss now, but Aether is pouting and keeps photobombing them whenever I point my phone in that direction, pointing at himself to redirect my focus back to him. I stuck my tongue out at him. Brat.

~Have I ever said how much I love “Square Hammer” live? FUCK. THE ENERGY. Due to it being the “last song,” I blow a kiss to Swiss when it’s all over and get one from him in return. I have perished and am very distracted for the rest of the evening.

~Copia changing his mind about pretending it’s a Friday and telling us, “It’s Tuesday. Go home!” And we boo.

~During his speech before “Monstrance Clock,” he again takes note of the little girl he sang to during Cirice and asks her how her evening was. He also substituted the word “organism” for “orgasm,” for her. Such a soft father.

~I am fully watching Swiss now and his “Monstrance Clock” hips now and GODDAMN HIM. He put me in heat with those moves, I swear. I was instantly a hot mess. I was transfixed and soooo mad that I hadn’t paid more attention to him sooner.

~There was a cute lil’ stuffed dragon sitting at the front of the stage during the song. I’m not sure if it got picked up or not.

~That moment when the lights come on at the end of “Monstrance Clock” and the stage is completely empty as the song fades out is the most HORRIBLE feeling. Because it’s over and the absence of the band members is so profound. “Monstrance Clock” still occasionally makes me sad.

~A few of us waited outside by the buses for the band to come out. IT WAS FREEZING OUT. I hate the Midwest. We didn’t see Tobias (I think they snuck him out the back to their hotel across the street) BUT we did see both Ghoulettes (THEY’RE SO BEAUTIFUL. QUEENS!) and Dewdrop (Per) walk out, along with another member I wasn’t too familiar with at the time, so that was pretty rad.

I know my summaries might come off as a little self-indulgent, but it’s how it happened in my mind. Plus everyone else’s are too. And honestly, my rituals are something I want to remember. Major kudos to the Omaha crowd. Best crowd I’ve seen at a show in a while.

[regrettablewritings]

Arthur Curry x Shy!Reader HC

A/N: Uhh... Heehee...Hi. I’m not gonna pussyfoot, this thing is way overdue. But for anyone who vaguely remembers, I had an anniversary fanfic raffle thingy back in January and ... yeah this is the result. Many, much, and eternal kudos to @this-red-in-my-ledger for their infinite patience with me and my perfectionist brain, tendency to overthink, weird motivation schedules, and school and work schedule, etc. Words cannot express how flustered I am at how late this is. I hope its length proves to be able to compensate at least 5% of what you’d hoped for. ...Though if it’s too long (and it most definitely is), please regard me as a fool who never learns. Once again, thank you so much for your patience, you are an absolute doll!!!

Despite being a man mostly shrouded in mystery, Arthur Curry was not exactly what some may refer to as “demure.” Aloof, maybe. Cynical, definitely. Reluctant to interact with others without an arguable consequence, most assured. But absolutely none of this is out of shyness. In fact, it’d probably an actual fact to claim that Arthur had nary a shy molecule in his entire being.

A man of his size and appearance could never afford the characteristic of being shy, not ever. But a man of his background had insecurities to spare. Specifically, those stemming from a sense that he didn’t quite belong with either world he had been linked to the moment his human father managed to conceive a child with an Atlantean queen.

Making matters worse is the unspoken sense of duty he has towards either realm, with assuring that both remain as safe as possible from both one another and outsiders sticking their noses where they ought not to.

This lack of belonging gave way to a rebellious attitude, one that led the man to apparently decide that if he wasn’t going to be provided an allegiance to begin with, as most people do, then he wouldn’t accept any unless he gave them the okay. It was just better this way: To push away than to pull or be pulled in. It was very liberating, having that sort of control over his own circumstances . . . Or so Arthur professed.

Nevertheless, Arthur took advantage of the devil-may-care reputation (or perhaps lack thereof, given his inability to stick to one place for too long). He owned that sense of disconnect and renamed it freedom. And he would own that freedom: He would take what he wanted within reason, party up if the circumstances were right, and leave with the tide.

. . . And then there was you.

You were also on the more closed off side, but for very different reasons. You didn’t have the same insecurities brought on by a lack of fitting in as Arthur had: You were just flat out shy.

However, you were nothing if not also dutiful and hard-working. That was what made you ideal in the eyes of one Lucius Fox, whose trust in you was enough for him to recommend you to Bruce Wayne’s services as his more publicized assistant. Though, in your own self-deprecating words, you were more like a glorified babysitter of sorts: When Alfred couldn’t accompany Bruce for certain travels, you came in handy to assure that there was always some form of backup.

(“He would attempt to survive off a diet of alcohol and perhaps occasionally a steak if he could,” Alfred scoffed once. “Maybe chased with only two hours’ worth of sleep, perhaps.”)

With Bruce’s newfound interest in finding the metahumans featured in Lex’s files, your presence was needed now more than ever

You admittedly had your hesitancies and were more than allowed to voice them but at this point, you knew it was mostly hopeless: You hadn’t been with Bruce for too, too long, but you had at least known him long enough to know that once his mind was made, it would take the combined force of a Kryptonian and Amazonian to actually move it.

And so here you were, out in an isolated village in Iceland, the wind slapping your face sore while your ass pained from riding on a pony across the rugged terrain. Your loyalty knew some bounds; unfortunately, these weren’t quite the bounds that would send your loyalties running. (Plus, the job paid well.)

It was this follow-you-to-the-ends-of-my-loyalty mindset that made you follow Bruce down, down, down into what you surmised might have served as the village’s gathering hall. All eyes were on you and Bruce, of course, as the two of you were outsiders in a hamlet that couldn’t have had a population expanding beyond perhaps seventy – and that was you being generous.

You were really hoping that some of that generosity would be extended to you, though: Their eyes bore into you with mixtures of curiosity and suspicion. You didn’t blame them for it, but it certainly did nothing for you dislike of having so much attention casted upon you.

You felt almost ashamed as you stuck to Bruce as a duckling does to whatever they’ve imprinted upon. You only let up once a decent enough crowd had gathered, and Bruce attempted to speak with the denizens about the metahuman he’d come to potentially acquire the assistance of.

And that was how you first laid eyes on Arthur Curry. Not that you had much of a choice: He was taller than even Bruce for one thing. And if that weren’t enough, his naturally-tanned skin and glorious dark-and-sandy locks surely stood out against the small sea of pale faces topped with mostly blond hair.

It also didn’t hurt the situation (or your eyes) that that this man was certainly quite attractive even at a distance. Ruggedly handsome, but not in the same way some might consider your employer.

This man had a look about him that said he could easily swig Jack in one hand and swing fists in the other without breaking a sweat. (However, if his body was anything like you imagined it must be beneath that clumpy sweater and dingy coat, you wouldn’t have minded seeing a little perspiration on him.)

These features proved to be key in your determining that this striking man differed from the rest.

Unfortunately, so could your boss. This, along with his smart mouth, let to the long-haired beauty of a man promptly grabbing your boss by the collar and slamming him into a wall, an aura of primal aggression radiating from him all the way to the back of the room where you stood.

 In short, your first introduction to Arthur Curry was far less than ideal. You were downright intimidated by this man more than you already were by default of your own timid nature. When the two men left the hall to discuss the matter, you made sure to keep your distance. You knew Bruce could more than take care of himself alone, but you couldn’t trust this new guy for jack shit after that scuffle.

“That your assistant?” Arthur questioned, glancing back at you. Your distance did nothing to hide your tensing at his sudden regard. Bruce sighed, exasperation coating the visible puff of air. “…Yes,” he responded gruffly. Arthur nodded with approval. “Nice…” he murmured before looking back at Bruce. “She single?” Bruce’s eyes narrowed with exasperation as they rolled in their sockets. He wasn’t sure which annoyed him more: That Arthur was clearly trying to remain off topic, or that he was doing so by using you (and with such a lackadaisical manner, no less). “Can we please focus on the matter?”

Yes, but to less than ideal results.

You stood there, gobsmacked as you watched the tan man begin to strip down. At first, your thoughts encircled around the insanity of it all: You were in the ice-blistering realm of Scandinavia during a particularly freezing bout, this lunatic was about to catch a death of cold!

As you were beginning to question further Bruce’s credibility for attempting to recruit such an idiot, however, Arthur removed his shirt – and your tune was peeled away along with it.

With the way you felt your cheeks burning, you no longer noticed the biting cold. His body was far more than what you’d initially imagined it to be. But perhaps more startling than his finely-cut physique were his eyes: Like the ghosts of sunken ships, illuminated by the sheer will to survive. You’d never seen anything like them, and you highly doubt you ever would again.

They flickered in your direction once more, for a split second, before returning to Bruce. “You’re out of your mind, Bruce Wayne,” Arthur ridiculed, and his sights went back to you. You felt your heart leap ever so slightly as you watched him aim a nod at your person. He then flipped back into the water before torpedoing elsewhere, away for your boss’s ludicrous proposal.

That would’ve been the last you’d have seen of Arthur Curry, had it not been for Steppenwolf’s less than pleasant surprise visit to Atlantis.

The next time you saw Arthur, he wasn’t nearly as undressed as the last time you’d seen him. You experienced a very short-lived flicker of disappointment, overthrown by the concern with the reason as to why he’d even taken up the previously rejected offer of joining the team.

Also . . . Whatever he was wearing did look quite impressive on him. Almost draconian, yet doubtlessly born in the sea. Much like the man himself.

And, once again, Arthur was quite aware of your stares at him whenever you entered the area. When you came to the Batcave to serve Bruce and “his new friends” drinks or to bring down any equipment as requested by Alfred, you would always somehow manage to spar Arthur a glance.

Unfortunately, not much was exchanged beyond a simple “thank you” or “excuse me.” Even on Arthur’s end, he could barely get a flirtation in before he’d be ushered elsewhere or snapped at about losing focus by your employer. And you? Expecting your coyness to be put aside for one second just to speak to somebody of his stature was an order taller than the man himself. (Plus there was the whole “he’s only here because Steppenwolf got the Mother Boxes and was preparing to bring about the Earth’s reckoning” but, you know, what can you do?)

Which was a shame: From what you were able to conclude from what few and often distant interactions you’d had or were able to observe, Arthur wasn’t as bad of a guy as he’d made himself out to be back in Iceland.

Back in the village, he was cold and gruff, exuding an air that said he was constantly ready to knock somebody’s teeth in over the smallest slight no matter how unintentional. But here? More laidback, still somewhat intimidating, but in the same way as a fellow who hung out at the local tattoo parlor and made small talk with the artists and customers but otherwise caused no real trouble.

Plus, his wiseass comments toward Bruce even managed to crack a smile out of you – something which he made note of and couldn’t help but muster pride from.

All things considered, the pleasant relief that he wasn’t as bad as you’d thought managed to relax the nerves you’d accumulated since you first laid eyes on him. It almost made you forget that you were on the verge of the end of the world. Almost.

Things were being received surprisingly well on Arthur’s end, also.

While you admittedly weren’t the type he usually found himself drawn to (which must be noted was essentially closer to a female version of himself), your more introverted nature still had its charms.

For what it was worth, he initially read your timid nature as one of a “stone-cold bitch” in the most respectful sense: The image of the aloof, perpetually unimpressed career woman who took no shit from her male coworkers (or, in this case, employers), and who always had an acerbic comment waiting to drip off her tongue if pushed beyond a limit she had personally set. Basically, his expectation of you in your “natural habitat” had been formulated through what he’d seen on TV or in movies.

Regardless of whether you truly did have anything to snap with, however, this proved to not be case exactly.

He quickly noticed that your quiet, withdrawn attitude wasn’t one of disinterest as he assumed anyone working for the likes of Bruce Wayne would be in possession of. In fact, on the contrary, you seemed quite interested in the matters at hand. He could see it in the little things: The ways you might lean in somewhat whenever Bruce brought up a diagram or whenever Victor brought forward new information; the occasion where you would tap Bruce’s shoulder, prompting him to lean towards you so that you might show him whatever it was you had pulled up on a tablet that might service the cause; that glimmer in your eyes that Arthur had managed to catch sight of during the very, very few moments he was just close enough and you simultaneously dared to look up at him.

The first time he’d seen it, he thought it might have been a fluke or the trick of lighting. Maybe he’d mistaken it for a desperation to leave, call the rest of the night off, and spend what may be your last night of existence binging Netflix and pizza at home.

But the second time he’d caught it, Arthur knew what he saw: Dedication, a yearning to be a part of this to a bigger extent than what you already were. But on that note . . .

He did also capture some nerves in your glances: Ones that, in spite of your eagerness to help, also seemed to want you to hide behind a one-way mirror and pitch in without the possibility of sounding clueless or out of line. In short: You weren’t this stone-cold bitch who would, without hesitation, necessarily break a man’s balls beneath her heels – you were just a bashful ball of nerves, and not in the nervy sense of being emboldened enough to look him dead in the eyes!

Not at all the type he usually found himself looking at. In fact, it was the brash, almost bullyish part of him that was beginning to coax him into teasing you a little bit, maybe riling you up.

And yet . . . He liked for someone of such an introverted manner, you seemed to have a lot more going on than what he’d initially thought. Almost like an oyster, if he could be pardoned for the clumsy comparison.

After witnessing the smiles you would occasionally share with Diana, the ever-present, underlying flame of determination that flickered as you helped to prepare the team for what was to come . . . Arthur Curry couldn’t help but wonder what more there was to you. What lay deep in your depths, beneath the seemingly one-note surface?

Plus, let’s be real: he had totally been checking out your ass every chance he got. The weather-proof gear he’d seen you in back in Iceland did absolutely no justice to your figure. He was quite pleased with what lay beneath all those goose down wears.

As you watched the team depart for Russia, you couldn’t help but feel your stomach drop into a low, dirty pit. There was no guarantee that anything would work into anyone’s favor, but you forced yourself to keep a calm countenance as you followed Alfred back into the labs. There was no use in worrying; all you could do was hope for the best. In the meantime, it would do some good to help monitor Bruce’s mechanisms.

Still, you found yourself considering the weight in your stomach, that sickening twist that twanged almost nauseatingly when you regarded what its source was: The regret of not having actually spoken more extensively with Arthur.

You found it weird that you were feeling so much over someone you’d barely met. Sure, the version of him that had been here not even a full hour earlier was a complete upgrade from the one you’d met less than a week ago. But still, it seemed odd of you to put that much weight in not having talked with the nearly complete stranger.

“Well,” a voice in your head thought, “isn’t that more reason to have gotten to know him better?”

You blinked at the intrusive thought.

You were unable to stop your thought process from forming its next declaration: “If they survive this, I’m going to overcome this shyness and actually freaking attempt to talk more with Arthur Curry.”

Meanwhile, on the Flying Fox, Arthur Curry was glowering: Diana had left that stupid lasso laying all will-nilly, and he’d been its unfortunate victim. At this point, he’d made an ass of himself by light-way insulting all the males onboard, flirting with its one member of the fairer sex, and then going back to Bruce to say, “ – and you know what? I don’t wanna die! I’m young, there’s shit that I wanna do – like Bruce’s hot assistant.” Bruce’s eyes hardened, befuddled at the crudeness. And yet, he couldn’t stop himself. “Don’t gimme that look, I know you’ve seen her. Look, man, if I survive this, I’m asking her out, sorry that you missed your shot but – ”

By the time he’d realized the extent of what he’d said, the damage had been done. He scowled as he tossed the Amazon the Lasso of Hestia and threatened Barry to keep his silence of the series of revelations before storming off, face burning. He trusted the other three members to hold some semblance of maturity on the matter and never bring any aspects of it back up.

He’d put too much faith into the one who was the most mature of them all.

“I look forward to you keeping your promise,” Diana smiled, almost tauntingly.

Arthur Curry sat onboard the flying transport. Against all odds, they had won, and now they were en route to Gotham, where he’d left his more comfortable clothes, where a nice, hot shower was, where a place to crash (courtesy of Bruce’s hotel connections) was, and where –

His pale eyes widened in spite of their owner’s exhaustion. Shit. Shit.

Gotham was also where you were: single, shy, giving off no hints as to whether you were ready to mingle, much less with the likes of him.

Your heart was beating so fast, you thought you were about to vomit it up. Sure, you’d told yourself you were going to attempt to talk with Arthur if he got back. But if you were being honest, you were sort of hoping it’d be after a buffer of time where he would be recuperating from the battle and you would be prepping yourself to actually speak with the rugged man. That, and you were really thrown off by the fact that not ten minutes after he’d gotten off the Flying Fox, he had marched straight up to you. He hadn’t even changed out of his war gear, arguably adding to his threatening appearance.

And yet, everything he said and the manner with which he said them seemed to work against his daunting form.

“I uh…I honestly didn’t think this would wind up happening. To be honest,” he coughed, hand scratching at the back of his wavy locks. He was even less like the man you’d met in Scandinavia than before.

“Uh . . . Listen.” He steadied his eyes on you, causing you to tense somewhat visibly. “I know we haven’t . . .” he lazily gestured his hand in a rolling motion “—talked. Formally, I mean. But I kinda made a promise sorta thing and . . . Okay, look, I think you’re really hot in a sorta sexy secretary kinda way but also I think it’s kinda cute that you always wanna help and all and sorry for being fresh but you’ve also got this real sweet caboose on ya and I just – ”

He froze. You weren’t sure if it was because you possibly had a rejecting expression (really, all you knew about your face right now was that it was blazing with blush and that your eyes were wider than usual), or if he’d considered the possibility that he’d gone too far with the blunt statement about your ass. However, as he glanced down and grimaced, you found your answer: There, wrapped around his lower thigh just enough for impact, was a shining lasso, the rest of which trailed away from the two of you. Its end was found, wrapped around the hands of one grinning Diana.

Well shit.

After forcing himself to calm down from the huffiness left from removing the lasso, Arthur cut to the chase: “So anyway, I was wondering if maybe you’d like to get a drink with me? Or something?” At that last bit, you could’ve sworn you could make out a very specific type of infliction. It was a very familiar one to you because it had been the same kind that plagued you your entire life: One of shyness.

Arthur noticed it as well and inwardly cringed. His alpha male persona? Ruined by the slip of a tone.

But for you? It was just what you needed to feel encouraged to look into those strange eyes of his and actually respond.

“Well…,” you began, if not a bit quiet and trembly (after all, you weren’t completely removed of your nerves), “I’m not sure if a bar is exactly the greatest first place to get to know one another.” You quickly added ad you watched his shoulders begin t slump, “Buuuuttt…maybe I could have a certain somebody pull a few strings; get us a nice place to ourselves?”

Two things then happened that pleased either party: Your eyes replicated that twinkle of interest that had him intrigued before; and he smiled a genuine smile. It was a very nice one, if you said so yourself.

Nobody honestly expected the relationship to go entirely too well, save for Diana. Arthur is brash and gung-ho and while the team now knows he’s capable of a softer side, his demands that they never bring it up again honestly make them hesitant to trust in his ability to show that part of himself to you.

Your shyness, coupled with your sensitivity, mean that he’s going to have to at least try and tone it down a bit; you’re at a 4 or 5 at best! – and he’s at an 11 when you need him closer to maybe a 7.

Bruce, against his initial intentions, sort of goes into Papa Wolf mode where he lightly threatens to mess Arthur up if he puts you out of your comfort zone

What can we say? Bruce has some paternal traits kicking around in him.

Still, he prepares himself for the worst when the day finally comes. To his surprise, however you don’t call him in hysterics, ranting about what a jackass his unrulier teammate is. You don’t call off the next day due to a rage-drinking-induced hangover, or even from one caused by you feeling pressured to keep taking shots.

Instead, you arrive at work practically glowing.

To everyone’s surprise, Arthur isn’t too bad of a boyfriend for you.

Okay, he’s actually just flat out not a bad boyfriend period.

His intense demeanor makes it so that nobody dares mess with you when you go for walks downtown; his sense of humor surprisingly tickles you, and he finds yours to be appealing in its own right. He knows you struggle with speaking to others, even if you need help, so he has no problem with stepping in and making sure that you get what you need and that nobody takes advantage of your demure mannerisms.

Plus, to everyone’s surprise (including his own), he likes talking with you. That interest in your unintentional enigma never went away: he wants to crack you open, see what pearls of intrigue lay within you that you don’t generally bring to surface for everyone. He feels honored to be the one with the most potential to see all of it.

(Though, to be brutally honest, he’s still going to tease you about certain aspects of yours. Maybe lightheartedly, but nevertheless with frequent vengeance. Calling him Fishcakes tends to get him to back off for a little bit, though.)

Unfortunately, due to his commitments (as a hero, as a ruler, etc), he can’t always be there. But he tries his damndest to make it up to you whenever he’s back in town.

Dates between the two of you are kinda compromised.

Arthur isn’t used to having a long-term relationship, so dates with actual meaning are a bit wobbly for him. Honestly, given his history, a “date” usually meant going to a bar, him and the girl he’s with getting hammered, and getting frisky.

Maybe they’d try it again another time, but nothing serious ever came of it because it was made from nothing serious.

Bars – at least the dives he’s used to – aren’t necessarily your scene, though. So he has to get a little creative.

He’s learned to swallow his insults aimed at museums and bookstores because if it means seeing you smile, then it ain’t all that bad, is it?

You’re still gonna buy him, like, three cheeseburgers after this, though, make no mistake.

Besides, picnics in the park have their pros: For one, it gives him an excuse to put his head in your lap and demand you scratch his scalp for a bit while he takes it easy,

The two of you don’t really go to the aquarium, though; it makes him feel a little anxious to see all these aquatic creatures contained.

Plus, he’s heard what some of them are thinking and it’s generally not good

He enjoys taking you to places with “good water.” As in “nowhere near the shithole that is Gotham or the arguably polished turd that is Metropolis.”

If you’re up to it, he’ll happily create a pocket of air for the two of you and speed the both of you to clearer ocean waters. (Don’t worry, he’ll hold you nice and tight, nothing to worry about.)

If this man can get a date with you at a beach, he’s one happy fellow. He’s totally in his element and is in the perfect environment where he can show off not only his body, but his abilities.

Even if you just want to keep it simple and build sandcastles or collect seashells, he’s going to find ways of showing off: He’ll manipulate the tide a smidge to keep it from coming in and ruining your hard work, or he’ll request his aquatic friends to make scooch some pretty shells or any available sea glass close enough to the shoreline that the tide will do the rest.

You may roll your eyes at this, but you do eventually thank him for it after every time. After all, you now possess a mighty fine bowl full of gorgeous shells and soft, rounded pieces of green glass because of his efforts.

He enjoys trying to find ways to get you to open up a bit more.

It’s not that he finds your shyness annoying or necessarily a hindrance, far from it: he enjoys that your modesty sort of creates a series of slides for him to try and pull back, creating layers upon layers of new things to learn and love about you.

But, as mentioned before, he can’t always be there: He doesn’t like the idea of you becoming too reliant on his boisterous behavior and getting taken advantage of during one of the instances where he isn’t present.

“M’kay, so you’re at a bar – ” “Lies, slander, libel, misinterpretation of character – ” “Fine,” he says through gritted teeth. “You’re at the ice cream parlor – shut it, you had your chance – and some, I dunno, punk who frequents the sodie fountain comes up to you and starts causing you trouble. What do we do?” “Tell him to please leave me be, I’m trying to enjoy my sundae.” “Mhm, or?” “If he’s persistent, call management.” “Good, and what else?” “Well, jeez, Arthur, do you want me to break a milkshake glass on the counter and use it as a shiv!?” “Noooooo: You could always say, ‘Piss off or else my big, scary boyfriend’s gonna come and shove a piranha down your dick.’” “What the – I’m not saying that!” “Not now, you’re not, but by the end of our training, you’ll be saying all kinds of tough guy and gal things!”

It’s . . . a work in progress.

He loves it when you blush. Even if you have dark skin, he’s picked up on cues that hint that your face is on fire.

He’s more observant than he lets in on, but trust me: he knows how to read you after getting to know you. He can see that way you smile or that certain way your eyes may flicker or whatever may have you and instantly know that roses are blooming in your cheeks.

“Aaaawww, is Babygirl feelin’ sheepish?” “Shut up, you big fool.”

Now, when it comes to the more . . . physical side of the relationship, he struggles with taking it slow

Not to knock on you, but Arthur’s rather used to women throwing themselves at him. Hell, he’s had at least two women wrap their legs around his waist in the same evening he’d taken them out on their first (and often only) date.

It’s because he’s used to, well, bolder types of women.

Honestly, he struggles for a good while: He’s not going to force you to do anything you don’t feel comfortable with, not ever, but he’d be lying if he said it was easy to not think about smashing his lips against yours and pinning you to a wall (preferably around Bruce’s place) and mark you up with hickies and possibly other, more personal things.

However, this change of pacing in a relationship, coupled with the fact that this is his first long-term one, does the man good: It teaches him more patience and consideration.

He even begins to enjoy the softer, sweeter things that he’d previously scoffed at as being “too vanilla”, such as kisses to the forehead or hand-holding.

Still, he does get strong makeout hankerings. (If you appease him, he’s more than grateful every time.)

That being said, if and/or when you do start to feel a bit braver about venturing further into the realm of intimacy, you still may possess some insecurities.

You’re no fool – you know what sort of man you have on your hands. You don’t need to look to the sides or behind you when the two of you walk somewhere to know that he’s being checked out by at least three people. He’s practically a demigod species-wise, and still remarkably attractive from the viewpoint of him being a normal human.

Even though you try not to, you can’t help but let some worries slip through the cracks: Maybe you’re just an appetizer to hold him over until he lands his sights on a more “fulfilling” meal; maybe you’re too plain for him (you know that that’s what goes through the minds of many gawkers); maybe you should show more skin . . .

But worry not: Cliché as it may sound, Arthur very much likes you the way you are. If you’re comfortable with you, then he’s comfortable with you. In fact, it makes him admire you even harder because it shows you’ve managed to do something he still struggles with: Being comfortable with his own self.

He finds it very sexy when you think you look nice in an outfit or when you take even the tiniest step out of your comfort zone to try a new look or accessory, and will honestly struggle all the more with keeping his hands or lips to himself.

But once you give him the okay, he’s all over that: Hands squeezing that ass he loves so much, kisses below the neck, utterances of flirtations ranging from PG to downright dirty.

If you gather up the guts to move even further or just flat out hit a homerun, it becomes a guidebook in itself.

Protip: One of the sexiest things you can do? Simply where one of his shirts, which is oversized on you thanks to his massive height. It doesn’t have to be wet, but it sure isn’t a problem in his eyes.

Cuddles. The boy is a slut for cuddles no matter what he tells you. Arthur may not necessarily be touch-starved, but he’s definitely bankrupt on accumulated touches of affection. His loner attitude always made it difficult for him to receive that sort of thing, especially since nobody he went out with was ever in the picture for too long. So when it hits him that in this relationship, such a thing is not only possible but welcome, he can’t help but feel a well of excitement brewing within him.

You in his lap, you by his side, you with your head on his chest, traditional spooning, you with your head on his lap or vice-versa, him lying down with you on his back, him sitting on the floor between your legs or the opposite, his loves it all!

The problem is, he won’t even admit this to you. But he tries to be sneaky about getting what he wants.

“What’s the matter?” “Hm? Nothing.” “Really? You look sad; you need me to cuddle you?” “What? I mean, it’d be nice but I’m not really –” He sighs, as if exasperated, “Can’t be helped; c’mere.” You aren’t given much time to object as you find yourself being collected into his warm, muscular embrace.

Sometimes, however . . . he slips up. And by that, I mean he’ll “happen” to slip into bed or onto the couch next to you in a way that presents himself as the little spoon.

Actually, of all the ways he likes to cuddle, jetpacking may be his favorite. Unfortunately, unless you think enough about it, you’d probably not notice it until later in the relationship due to how rarely he lets it happen. But it makes perfect sense otherwise: He’s so used to everybody having expectations for him. He’s so used to feeling obligated to do all these things for worlds he doesn’t necessarily feel the strongest connection with. Going off of that, there was the life-long sense of not being completely bound to either existence, creating insecurities galore.

Sure, he’s started to take the steps in the right direction but it’s still very hard, especially since those steps are accompanied with the extra weight of him now being a member of something bigger: An appointed rule of Atlantis, a balance-keeper between the land and the sea, a member of an actual team . . .

You don’t need to be told that it’s frustrating. You truly do commend him for taking it as well as he is.

But obviously, it takes its toll on the guy more often than he’d let his teammates in on, so it often times falls on you to help him cope.

Interestingly, this honestly seems to be the most he lets you do. Or rather, the most that even needs to be done at all.

But the fact of the matter is, you’ve come to love this position as well.

Because it allows you to feel like the brave and strong one in the relationship, just like how you suspect Arthur must feel much of the time. The way Arthur constantly wants you to feel, not so that he doesn’t have to try as hard at being a boyfriend to a person so different from him, but because he wants the best for you and doesn’t want the world to hurt you or make you feel out of place for who you are. Of course, he doesn’t want you to change, but he does want you to recognize the inner-strength you have, the inner-strength he sometimes worries you forget about amidst your worries and own frustrations.

But for the meantime, this will do: With your big, brash aquatic boyfriend allowing himself to feel delicate, and your usually quiet and shy self, feeling brave and protective.

It surprisingly works, this weird little world the two of you have created together. You both find that you fit into it together quite perfectly.

[rael-rider]

My thoughts regarding Cates’ GotG #1

What I liked

I like the fact that Groot is still speaking, that Cates didn’t ignore what Duggan did to himi. This will sound as blasphemy but I would be OK if “I am Groot” never comes back in the comics. Not because it’s considered to be gimmicky, but because writers tend to use it as a writing crutch.

Having Groot say “I am Groot” and having other characters react with shock over what he said while leaving the reader (or viewer in case of the movies) wondering what he said it’s also pretty overdone. Let him talk.

I also like that he has his old personality back. He’s less pompous and regal and lacks his flowery speech (which I liked) and he comesoff as an angry teenager (but that has to do more with Cates’ form of writing) but he’s pretty similar to the Groot of old. Which I like because I find that Groot more interesting.

Peter is less of a clown, and more sharp, witty, and sarcastic.He’s more proactive and gives the impression that he really did care what happened with the missing Knowhere. I though him referring to the Novas “pigs” was weird since he was also technically a space cop at one point. Then again this new Nova Corps is infuriating and I loved that he started asking that Nova guy what the hell they were going to do about what was happening with the whole Knowhere is missing situation.

The whole cassette player being broken was Cates’ not so subtle way of saying “I don’t want to do MCU Guardians” which is good in my book.

I know I said I don’t like MCU synergy but Peter having a new ship named after Winona Ryder was pretty cool. The Nova guy asking if it was named after Rich was funny too.

I like how the Guardians formed, it’s spontaneous, maybe overdone in superhero stories but I liked it.

We get a new GotG team that’s not the MCU roster, finally.

Rocket is not in this comic for unspecific reasons but also because he’s going to be in Avengers: No Road Home. Not that I hate Rocket but Ewing is writing that Avengers comic and I liked his Rocket mini so I’m looking forward to him writing Rocket.

Wraith got sucked into that vortex thing.

Wendell is back as Quasar!

What I didn’t like

The implication that Cosmo, Darkhawk, Smasher, Wendell Vaughn, the Starjammers, etc... are presumed dead. Only because Wraith and Kallark who got sucked in and they appear in a future cover I am willing to bet they aren’t dead. I don’t worry about Adam or Vance because one can die and the other can find ways to come back. I hope they aren’t dead because killing all of those cosmic characters just like that is a good way to piss off cosmic fans.

It’s weird when you have big name characters in the background (at least big name for cosmic) and they don’t do anything. I have a hard time believing Wendell and Adam wouldn’t have said something in that scene with Eros talking about Thanos.

It’s a Thanos centered story and you only see Adam Warlock in the background? And suddenly Cosmic Ghost Rider is an authority on Thanos? Pffftt. Maybe Cates can’t write Adam.

What is the point of Cosmic Ghost Rider? Other than the rescue scene where CGR has his chain wrapped around Stormbreaker he was totally irrelevant and his scenes in the story stuck out like a sore thumb and did nothing to contribute to the overall plot other than remind us that he’s there. Seriously, outside the rescue scene, take the panels with him out and you wouldn’t really miss much. Heck the story would flow better without his constant inane interruptions.

Also CGR’s spot on the team could have gone to a better character.

Bill and Silver Surfer are worried about fighting the Black order meanwhile Rich is soloing them in the next issue of their comic. The Black Order shouldn’t be a match for those cosmic powerhouses.

I don’t expect Cates to know but it’s still a big sign writers and editors don’t care much about small time characters. Gladiator was in Darkhawk’s vicinity and not once did he tried to kill him. Chris killed Lilandra (though unwillingly) and Kallark loved her and mourned her death. It’s really not important to the story but if you know the characters this feels wrong.

The Thanos candidates thing doesn’t make sense. Why is Luke Cage being targeted as someone close to Thanos and who Thanos possibly implanted his mind into? Why not suspect Adam, Pip, Eros himself or any Eternal. Get people Thanos actually frequents in the list. Only Gamora made sense.

Even then it’s not that good of a plot. Augh just leave Gamora alone, let her rest. Better yet make peace with Starlin and have him write a story with her.

Cates should also give Thanos a rest, he really can’t write a good Thanos (nor can Jason Aaron for that matter).

Why are the Black Order even working for Hela? Also I miss when Hela was a pretty neutral entity instead of her being straight evil. I also hope she’s not the Thanos in her body.

A Nova fan asked Cates where Rich was and Cates just answered with “keep reading”. I am pretty tired of seeing Rich bounce from title to title once in a blue moon but unfortunately this is what it feels to be a fan of a character that’s not in the MCU or the writer/editor favorite. Still I rather he not appear in the cover of a comic he’s not going to be in because I get unnecessarily happy only to be let down. Also why put the other characters like Adam and Darkhawk anyway? They didn’t do anything either.

The art felt rushed in some panels and better in others, and the coloring wasn’t that great. What is up with Phyla’s cosmic awareness effect. Also at some point you see a panel with Knowhere floating above a planet and it’s painfully obvious they used a low res image of the moon for the planet and just put a greenish blue filter on it. Come on, I know Marvel people need to meet deadlines but I rather this comic comes out a month later and get a better product than this.

Marvel also needs a better quality printer, sometimes the ink comes off if I hold a comic for awhile and gets in my fingers. I also leave finger prints in my comic. It’s annoying AF and it’s not the first time it happened. They either need better quality printers or switch to the cheap paper or I dunno do something about it at the least. All in all it was an OKish issue, not anything great and I think the one thing I liked the most was Peter Quill reading like THE Peter Quill of old.

[ramheavenandhell]

I Ricking Hate My Life!

AN: I promise that this is the last backstory chapter in the "Entricked Fates" series (well, before the big main event that's "The Lines Between Ricks and Mortys" anyways). The only thing that's missing now is the second chapter of "Gotta Catch Me Some Morty" and we're all set. Warnings: depressive thoughts and (Rick/)Morty-hate, but nothing too triggering Summary: A brief glimpse in the life of Rick K-54 – a Salesman Rick – who isn't really as cheerful and happy as he always puts on for his customers.

I Ricking Hate My Life! "Welcome in our store!" Rick greeted his customer happily. He wasn't just any Rick. He was Salesman Rick. Well, he wasn't the only Salesman Rick on the Citadel since there were many stores here and just as many Salesman Ricks. However, he was Rick K-57 and the shop owner of the Citadel's biggest Morty merchandise store. He was also the friendliest and most cheerful Rick there ever was. No, that was actually not true. Actually, he was the most pathetic Rick that ever existed. Everyone else just thought that he was the most cheerful one, but Rick was sure that deep down even all of the others thought that he was wretched. "Can I help you, Sir? Are you looking for something specific?" Salesman Rick asked in a friendly tone that seemed alien for a Rick. The customer – a Rick with long hair and a leather jacket – only grunted, as he looked closer at one of the many colorful Morty dazzlers. "Nah. Just looking around." The job was underpaid – like most jobs on the Citadel, really – but it was either this or standing in a kitchen, frying burgers at one of the fast food joints. He didn't really have many options here. Truthfully, he was one of those Ricks that had been lured to the Citadel with false promises. Well, not all of them were false. He was offered protection and that's what he got. However, everything else that he had been told was nothing but lies. They would tell you that you were special because you were a Rick, but no Rick on the Citadel was special. How could they, if they were surrounded by themselves? Sure, there were also Mortys who held less significance than Ricks, but even that didn't mean anything. It just meant that those boys were bastards that are even more pitiable. Salesman Rick shifted a bit nervously from one foot to the other – smile still in place though – as his currently sole customer went from the stand with the dazzlers to another shelf and frowned at the Morty dolls that were lined up there. Thinking back on it, Rick couldn't even quite remember why he had agreed to come here to begin with. He just remembered that he had worked in his garage when all of a sudden, a swirling green vortex had opened and a bunch of Ricks came through it. They told him about portal gun technology – something that he himself hadn't invented yet and since he was stuck here, probably never will – and then asked him to come with them to the Citadel of Ricks. It was for his own "good", they had said. Unfortunately, that invitation had been a one-way ticket and now he was stuck here in this miserable life forever since. "Show me the Morty." The Morty doll squeaked in an annoying voice as the Customer Rick had picked one up and had pushed on the button on its belly. He quickly put it back on the shelf again and strolled through the salesroom once more. It was a life that he genuinely hated. He really did. Hated everything about it so much. Of course, he wasn't the only one who thought like this. It wasn't all smiles and sunshine for other Ricks either. In a way, they all sat more or less in the same boat – at least all of the Ricks who were in the same "low class" as him. If you happened to be in a manager position or somehow directly affiliated with the Council of Ricks then you didn't have to worry about anything. You had a good life. You were one of the special Ricks. Though, Salesman Rick questioned how special they were exactly. There was probably no Rick on the Citadel that was truly special because living on the Citadel made you less of a Rick. The longhaired Rick paused at the shelf that held yellow towels. He let his hand run over it to feel its texture. It was soft and Salesman Rick had the materials memorized, of course, ready to inform his customer if he would ask him about any details… Still, knowing all that, didn't help Rick K-57. He couldn't be happy about the fact that there were Ricks living here who had it even worse than him. No, the only thing he could think about was his own misery. It was because of that, that he also easily envied other Ricks even if it were only for the smallest of things. The customer didn't ask anything. He just let his hand drop and continued looking around. Storage Rick was such an example. The guy didn't have a much better paid job nor was it any easier, but there was so much that Salesman Rick would envy him for. One of the things was that Storage Rick was free to act like himself and could be rude to his customers if he wanted to – something that was unthinkable in Salesman Rick's profession. It was probably due to the fact that the customers always had to go back to him anyways because they needed to. Rick K-57 had to sell stuff though and if the customer didn't like his shop, his wares or him, then they would go and take their business elsewhere. There were enough other stores here after all and the competition might have better prices or just better service and that would be quickly his end. So, there was no question that he always had to be nice and cheerful – or at least act that part convincingly – even if his customers were complete assholes and acted as such. Seeing as most of them were Ricks, it was naturally a given that the customer was almost always an asshole anyway. The Rick came to stop in front of rack that held various yellow t-shirts that had a Morty face on the front. He skimmed through them, seemingly looking for a size that would fit him. Another thing to envy Storage Rick for was the freedom to wear whatever he wanted. Sure, since he also had to advertise crap for this whole Pocket Morty craze, he also had to wear at least those yellow Morty t-shirts, but that was nothing in comparison to the dress code that Salesman Rick had to go by. He was stuck with wearing this stuffy, cheap suit, always having to look presentable. Not only that though. Since selling was his job, he also had to advertise all that Morty related merchandise that he sold. It was another thing that he hated dearly. Finding a shirt in the right size, the Rick picked it out and examined in from close up. Truth be told, he actually couldn't stand Mortys and hated all of that stupid merchandise with a passion. The dazzlers, the yellow t-shirts, the ugly talking Morty dolls and the stupid yellow blankets and towels – he hated just all of it and everything that had to do with Mortys. He just didn't understand the appeal of it all and barely got the necessity. Rick K-57 never had a Morty of his own so that might be the reason why he could not relate so well with the other Ricks. In his opinion Mortys just looked so dumb with their stupidly naïve smiles and maybe they reminded him just a little bit too much of himself when he had been still young and full of optimism and when he had just started to study science. Thinking about it, there might actually be a Morty in dimension K-57, but since Rick had been brought here 15 years ago, he was stuck and without a portal gun of his own or something short of a miracle there was no chance for him to visit his daughter and see if she had a second child. So, if he had a Morty, he at least never got to meet him and probably never will. "Can I try this on somewhere around here?" the customer finally spoke up. Salesman Rick was quick to answer. "Of course! The changing rooms are just around that corner." Dutifully, he led the customer who only grunted that he got it and didn't need help. Maybe, it was also too much to say that he hated Mortys. It was probably more accurate to say that he hated the whole whirl that Ricks made about them. Sure, he did understand that they were their grandsons and also a cloaking device, but that explained in no way this whole Pocket Mortys fad. It also failed to explain some other things that he occasionally witnessed on the Citadel and at worst times even in his own shop. An "unhealthy attraction" was probably the best way to describe it and while many Ricks went by the sentiment that family doesn't mean anything, Salesman Rick certainly didn't want to see Ricks and Mortys making out with each other. Others would probably say that you couldn't blame them, seeing as Ricks and Mortys were the only folks that populated the Citadel, but to Rick K-57 that was also no excuse. Salesman Rick's eyes went to his open shop front as he was distracted from the laughter of a passing Morty who was accompanying his Rick while waiting for his customer to either finish trying on the shirt or ask for more help. The Customer Rick exited the changing room after a while and hung the tried on t-shirt back on the rack. Sure, he felt lonely, but the thought of having to do something with a Morty disgusted him. Not that he would say, he'd prefer other Ricks – like that crazy medic duo from the Morty Healing Center and Morty Labs. However, that disgust went far enough that he didn't want to see such things in his shop. He was barely able to tolerate Mortys in here and he thought that they didn't really have any business with him anyways. Why would they buy merchandise of themselves after all? His shop was for Ricks that were fans of Mortys or the so-called Morty trainers that would need supplies from him, like serums and Morty Manipulator Chips. "Please come again." Rick practically shouted to the customer that left after he had looked around the store for almost half an eternity without buying anything in the end after all. Behind that fake bright smile was nothing, but a broken and depressed man. He really hated his life! And one day he would change that. He could see Investment Rick walking over the plaza and Salesman Rick held his breath, almost fearing that the other would steer in his direction. The other Rick only passed by his shop, focused on another customer of his, right around the corner. The reminder of his current financial situation was still there though. Since many other merchandise shops had opened up the Morty fans had started to by their fan articles there. That left Salesman Rick only with the supplies for Morty Trainers, but even those didn't sell as well anymore. Sure, there was the occasional alien or noob that would by manipulator chips or serums, but lately that was it. He figured that it had to do with the limitations on what he could sell to which trainers – qualified by their amount of batches – that had been pushed onto him by the Council of Ricks. There was no doubt that some shady Ricks were selling those supplies to anyone who asked for it in the alleyways to get around that restriction. Also, most Ricks knew how to craft all of that stuff themselves and since it was cheaper, preferred to do that exactly. Yeah, it didn't look too well for his shop and his job… 'One day…' Salesman Rick told himself '…I will do it…'

AN: I'm probably the only one who ever thought this, but when I see Salesman Rick's face, I always think that his smile looks fake and that he's actually really sad on the inside. I just imagine seeing that in his eyes, but I'm probably silly ^^'

Part 10 of Entricked Fates Part 1 of Entricked Fates: Gotta Catch Me Some Morty

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Part 2 of Entricked Fates: Mortyfied and Rickfused

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Part 3 of Entricked Fates: Ricking the Routine

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Part 4 of Entricked Fates: Ricks will always be Ricks

oneshot

Part 5 of Entricked Fates: The Morty-Lover

oneshot

Part 6 of Entricked Fates: Second Chances AKA The Rick One For Me

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Part 7 of Entricked Fates: Rickvestigating the Morty Disappearances

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Part 8 of Entricked Fates: When the Morty’s away, the Rick will play

oneshot

Part 9 of Entricked Fates: It's Not His Ricking Fault!

oneshot

Part 11 of Entricked Fates: The Lines Between Ricks and Mortys

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 

Part 12 of Entricked Fates: The Mortys and their Stories

Chapter 1

[scythe-swinging]

Deidara's a Matchmaker pt.7/9

Despite being pissed at Deidara and running out of the restaurant, Hidan didn’t stray very far. He was pissed, yes, but he still wasn’t angry enough to run deep into the woods and risk getting lost.

….except maybe he was-

He stopped and looked around as he realized he could no longer see the restaurant or the lights coming from it. He hadn’t been walking for that long, has he? It certainly didn’t feel like it.

Well, fuck, now what was he gonna do? He just wanted to blow off some steam – before he ended up yelling at Deidara and accidentally letting Sasori know about his stupid crush – and now he was lost in some forest.

“Fuckin’ dammit-“ He muttered to himself before walking in the direction that he thought – hoped – the restaurant was in. It shouldn’t be too hard to find his way back, should it?

…

“Hey- where are you going-?” Deidara asked, honestly not surprised that Sasori was going to follow Hidan but wondering what his explanation would be. The blonde was certain Sasori liked Hidan back but if he could get the redhead to say as much it would make things so much easier.

“Outside.” Sasori stated, planning to just leave it at that. He wanted to go talk to Hidan and he really didn’t want to be stalled by Deidara’s pointless questions. Unfortunately for him, he could tell Deidara wasn’t just going to leave it at that so he impatiently continued.

“I need to bring Hidan back.” He turned away again, not even waiting to finish his sentence before he was on his way outside. He wasn’t about to be stuck there for a while talking to Deidara when he knew how reckless Hidan could get when he was mad or any other form of upset.

“Listen to him-! He /needs/ to bring Hidan back, yeah? He’s-“ Deidara paused as he looked over at Tobi, his amused tone turning into one of confusion as he saw that the other was standing up. “Where are you going, hm?”

Tobi’s movements stalled as he torn his gaze from the door and looked back at Deidara. “Shouldn’t Tobi and senpai help get Hidan-san back?” He tilted his head to the side as he spoke, seeming genuinely confused. It made sense to help, after all that’s what a good boy would do-

“Nah,” Deidara said waving his arm dismissively. “We should let those two love birds talk it out.”

“Okies-“ Tobi nodded, sitting back down before he looked back at Deidara. If he wasn’t wearing his mask his confusion would be evident but even so it was somehow clear that Tobi didn’t quite understand. “Hidan-san and Sasori-san are birds-!?”

“What- no, they’re-“ He sighed, shaking his head. “Never mind, Tobi. Let’s talk about something else, yeah?”

“Tobi doesn’t understand but okies! What does senpai want to talk to Tobi about!?”

“How about your crush, hm?”

“Tobi doesn’t-“

“Soo you like a biracial guy? Didn’t think you liked guys but maybe I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re gay.”

“Tobi’s not-“

“I mean, you do act a little gay every-so-often, okay, maybe like, /really/ gay. Maybe I’m more surprised because he’s biracial, yeah? Because we don’t really know anyone that’s- wait- is it Kakuzu? Is he even biracial? Please tell me it’s not Kakuzu-“

“It’s not-“

“Yeah? Good- I don’t really care what happens to you but I’d hate to see that, yeah? But- then who is it?”

“Tobi doesn’t want to-“

“But Tobi should. Come on, I won’t tell anyone! Just tell me so I can stop being so curious! I won’t do anything bad!”

“Can senpai ask about something else-?”

“What’s it gonna take for you to tell me, un? I’ll get you dangos~.”

“No. Tobi doesn’t want to-“

“Not even for dangos?”

“Not for anything.” Tobi declared, half pouting and half serious. He wasn’t about to let anyone know who his crush was. He had already decided not to act on it, after all. He was doing everything he was doing for /her/ and he wasn’t going to let that go to waste.

.

Sasori briskly stepped outside, only stopping once he realized he couldn’t see Hidan. Did he really have to run off like that? Knowing him he would probably get lost and-

Oh.

Hidan was probably lost and probably still moving around like the idiot he could be half the time. If Sasori wanted to find him he had to move now and he had to stay alert.

With that thought he began moving again, looking out for broken twigs or footprints or anything else that could clue him in as to where Hidan disappeared to. He knew the younger man wouldn’t die out there and that he had been on his own for quite a while before he joined the Akatsuki but that did nothing to lessen the worry he felt at Hidan being gone.

Yes, worry. Sasori was actually worrying. It still gave him pause half the time, the amount of emotions Hidan made him feel, both good and bad – or annoying as pointless worrying could often times be – and yet, he relished it.

As amazing as it was that he felt things it was even more amazing that Hidan made him /want/ to feel things. He had been stalling the completion of his puppet form, stalling purging himself of all his emotions for good – the pain at his parents death, the anger at his grandmother for deceiving him, the guilt at Komushi’s death, the fear anytime anyone was even one minute late – of all of the things he kept locked away. The things that touched the service only occasionally.

Hidan made him consider living with those things, if only it meant he also got to feel the way Hidan made him feel. The flutter in his chest when the silver haired male stood up for him, or even looked his way. The way the man’s well, his /everything/ - his body, his dumb humor, his stupidity, his eternal life – made him stop him his tracks, made him want to soak in all that Hidan was. Even the acute sadness he felt at being away from the other for too long.

All of it Hidan made him feel and all of it made him want to feel. He would take all of the bad just to feel that way.

But if he couldn’t find Hidan, if the man managed to get so lost they couldn’t find him or managed to somehow actually die then Sasori would not only lose Hidan but he would lose those feelings too and with it the want to feel at all.

.

It didn’t take long for Sasori to come to a pause in his search. It was clear that Hidan had paused in this same area earlier – the grass where the Jashinist had stood was still bent, more so than the rest of the grass – this must have been when he realized he was lost. If Hidan had been smart he would have done a 180 and headed back but, judging by the newly broken branch to his right and a few barely visible footprints, it was clear Hidan wasn’t that smart.

Sasori quickly turned and headed in the new direction, hoping that Hidan had paused for longer than he had. Any extra time would be beneficial to him. Luckily for him, Hidan had been walking slower than him once he realized he was lost so it didn’t take much longer for the redhead to come to an area where the tracks stopped. Hidan had to be around here somewhere.

Sasori looked all around him and, once he determined that Hidan wasn’t on the ground, he looked up to see the man sitting in a tree with his eyes closed. Was he seriously trying to take a nap?

“Hidan.”

“HOLY FUCKIN-“ Hidan jumped, nearly falling off the tree. “You just scared the shit out of me-“ He easily climbed down, coming to stand in front of the shorter male. “What’s up?”

“…what’s up?”

“Yeah- you know, whatcha doing? What’s up?”

“I know what it means.”

“Then what are you talking about?”

“I came out here to find you and you’re sitting in a tree and asking what’s up? What were you even doing? Enjoying be lost?”

“Hey-! I couldn’t find my fucking way back so I decided to wait until one of you guys found me! Wait- I like just fucking got up there. How the hell did you find me so fast?”

“I’ve been looking for you for the past half hour.”

“Come on, I wasn’t gone that fucking long. It had to of taken you at least twenty minutes to realize I was lost-“

“I didn’t start looking for you because you were lost, Hidan.”

“Huh- then why-?”

“I was going to talk to you, bring you back to the restaurant so we could finish our meal. Speaking of, Deidara and Tobi are still there. We shouldn’t leave them waiting.”

“Wait- you fucking came out here because I was upset /then/ you realized I was lost?”

“Yes.”

“Holy-“ Hidan, without thinking much about it, hugged the other male. However, he pulled away before Sasori could respond.

“Shit I’m sorry- I didn’t- I know you don’t fucking like people in your personal space it’s just I love ya, man an-“

“I wasn’t complaining-“ Sasori said at the same time as the last part slipped out of Hidan’s mouth.

“Wai-“ He didn’t me to- oh fuck- “…what-“ Sasori didn’t care that he had hugged him-??

“What did you just say?” Sasori asked, heart almost stopping at hearing those words come out of his crush’s mouth. Hidan- Did he really-?

“Uh- I- like a friend-? Yeah, we’re friends right? Friend’s tell friend’s they love each other all the time- that’s what that was-“ Funny, apparently if he was nervous enough his cuss words would just vanish from his vocabulary. That was probably the most he’s spoken without cussing in years-

Sasori nodded, a part of him not believing Hidan had meant it platonically but he was sure if that was his emotions or his logic speaking to him. “Yeah, they do.”

Hidan smiled widely. “See? I can say it all I want- I fucking love you-“ It was both terrifying and amazing to say it out loud, even if he was saying it under the guise of being platonic.

Sasori couldn’t help but to smile at that, even knowing how Hidan was meaning it. He shook his head at the other’s antics, muttering ‘You’re gonna be the death of me’ under his breath as they started to head back.

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[aegyotrashcan]

Pied Piper | Hoseok Scenario

a/n: bless hoseok 😭💗💓💕💐💘 bless hixtape (not yet released but we will wait until you’re ready bby) 🔥👑💞💘 bless his parents for creating him 😍👼😘 february is a blessed month and we, mere mortals 🙇 are blessed to have such a king to love and worship 👑💚🙏💖💞 HAPPY BDAY HOBI ✨🎉🌈🌞 you’re talented beyond belief & deserving of all the love in the world 🌹💗💓💕💖💞💘💛

Character(s): Jung Hoseok x gn!Reader Word count: 4038 Warnings: a bit of cursing but not much else except love for hobi 💖

“What the hell are you doing?”

Jung Hoseok, your closest companion since childhood limps into your bedroom, not expecting to see one wall turned into a makeshift cork board. Pictures and notes were stuck to the wall, with different coloured thread connecting various images, having been wrapped around the thumb tacks keeping them there. He squints, trying to decipher what the hell it all meant.

“Are you a detective now?” he jokes, falling heavily onto your bed.

You don’t turn to him as you speak, “I can’t stop thinking about it, Hobs.” He doesn’t need to ask what you are referring to, he already knows. “And I have to figure it out. I need to know who the leader of the gang is.”

Ever since that incident four months ago, your life was taken over by an obsession. One that started after you left Hoseok’s house, on a brisk Winter night.

Nothing seemed amiss, not a deathly silence nor a loud crunch. Nothing to give away what was about to happen. You said goodbye to your friend and began the trek home, as you had done countless times before. Hands reached out of the shadows to grab you, a bag was thrown over your head to obstruct your vision, a hand was pressed to your mouth. Something cold and sharp dug into your side and the icy fear felt like concrete in your stomach.

“Tell us everything you know and we’ll let you live.” We’ll let you live meant there were more. You were proven correct when another voice spoke: “If he removes his hand, you have to promise not to scream. Just talk. We swear we don’t want to hurt you, we just want what you know.”

“Do you promise not to scream?”

A strangled cry caught in your throat.

He pressed the knife further into your side, making you flinch.

“Promise?”

You nod.

He removes his hand.

Before you could talk, scream, cry, even breathe; there was a sound. Running footsteps, a male shout, followed by the guys holding you cursing and then you felt the whoosh of air.

They were running away.

When the bag was pulled off of your head, you were shaking and crying. The stranger wasn’t someone you recognized but you hugged him as if he was your entire world. It was about that time you registered that you had urinated on yourself.

“Where do you live? I can take you there,” he offers.

But your house was too far, no, it really wasn’t, but it felt too far as you stood there with rapidly cooling piss on your jeans. You’re not sure when you had wet yourself but you’re sure you wanted out of these jeans quickly.

“Hobi,” you whimper. He was close and warm and no one gave hugs like him. “I want Hobi.”

That night was a blur after that.

The stranger who saved you led you to Hoseok’s house, practically supporting your weight. He waited around until the police arrived, giving a statement before he left. When the formalities were through, Hoseok held you in his arms the entire night. If your snot and tears bothered him then he didn’t let it show. Since that night, more than ever, Hoseok was there for you. He was your rock, something you were eternally grateful for.

It was that incident that led to your obsession.

The police informed you that the two men had been captured and were members of the Monster gang. An infamous gang in your city although not the biggest. They had started out as a small group of thieves, growing quickly and gaining numbers that were beginning to threaten the biggest gang: Bangers.

Naturally, this made them enemies.

What didn’t make sense to you, was them assuming that you had information. How could you? The closest you had gotten to organized crime was stealing a chocolate bar when you were ten and hungry from a local shop.

The second your mother had found out, you were grounded and yelled at so badly that you were sure to never steal again.

Your makeshift police investigation wall had pictures of the two men who had pressed a knife into your skin. You never got a look at their faces that night but just seeing their pictures made you sick. It’s not that they were ugly, maybe in another life you would call them handsome, but after what they did, they were vermin to you.

The two were connected by blue thread to a sign saying ‘Monster.’ After that, you didn’t know much else.

“I have a theory,” you mumbled, lost in thought.

“What?” Hoseok had stopped paying attention to you after his arrival. He kicked his shoes off, got comfortable in your bed and was scrolling through Instagram. “What did you say?”

“I have a theory,” you repeat, stepping back from the wall. It looked like a jumbled mess but somewhere in there was an answer. There had to be. “I think I have a doppelganger.”

“A what?”

“A doppelganger, someone who looks just like me. Maybe someone in the Bangers gang has a relative or partner or friend, whatever, who looks like me. And that’s why they thought that I had information.”

“Okay, case solved then. Are you going to stop acting like this now?”

Turning swiftly, you glare at Hoseok. “What the hell is your problem? You don’t seem to care at all about figuring this out and you’re not helping me at all.”

A look of hurt crosses his features, quickly taken over by rage. “Not helping?” he hisses. Hoseok was not someone who got angry easily. It was rare and most of all, it was terrifying. “You’re ignoring me to hole up in your bedroom, trying to get involved in something dangerous, (Y/N.) I am trying to help you, by trying to keep your dumb ass out of this shit.”

After slipping his shoes back on, he storms out with a huff, a strange falter in his step while his eyes stare right through you. He was formidable when mad so you let him go, knowing not to chase him down.

The bed held the remains of Hoseok’s shape and you laid down in it, inhaling his cologne. He always wore the same kind, a trademark of his that you loved. The sheets held no warmth as you laid there, staring at the door he had left through.

You sigh, pulling the blanket over your head, wishing it would just swallow you whole.

Focusing was never your strong point. This was especially true since the fight with Hoseok. He was older than you so he’d already graduated but one of his other close friends was in your year. And even Jungkook was acting differently towards you. Granted, you weren’t super close to begin with but friendly exchanges were common. Now, he refused to meet your gaze and ignored your passing greetings.

The more you tried to figure the case out, on top of trying to figure Hoseok out; the less sleep you got. Bags hung under your eyes and school time naps were now a thing.

“Hey.”

Startled awake, you looked around only to realize you were in the canteen. Lunch was seemingly ending and the last few people were filing out. You hardly remembered coming here, let alone falling asleep.

“Jungkook?”

The teen towered over you, having hit a growth spurt over the summer break. His baby fat was replaced by muscle and the innocence in his eyes was gone. You’re not exactly sure what had happened to him over summer but that was one mystery too much for you right now.

“We have to get to class, c’mon,” Jungkook explains.

He waits silently for you to sit up and gather your belongings. The cleaner rolls her eyes as neither of you hurry to walk out. The walk to class is short but tense. No words are exchanged until you reach the door of the classroom.

“(Y/N)?” he suddenly says.

“Yeah?”

“You look like shit. Get more sleep.”

The concern was not his, you could tell. He had probably told Hoseok about your new nap schedule, who had most likely asked the teen to check up on you. Even though you were fighting, Hoseok still cared.

It made you smile.

“Tell Hoseok I’m not going to. Not until I figure this out,” you reply.

You brush past him into the classroom, taking a seat and unpacking your books. He follows after you, looking sulky and annoyed. You knew Hoseok very well, well enough to know that telling him bad news was never fun. You’re sure that Jungkook did not look forward to passing your message on but that was not your problem.

You were determined to figure this out, no matter what.

Another month passed by with not one text message from Hoseok. Not only were you stubborn but also resolute. You had to solve this mystery. Hoseok had always liked that quality in you, at least, he did up until now. You would figure this out, no matter how long it took.

With school having come to an end, it meant the start of your summer vacation. What this also meant was that you had more time to focus on research. But for Hoseok, it unfortunately meant no updates from Jungkook. You could be withering away for all he knew.

He was going insane.

But still, he never texted you so you never bothered to text him either. It was a game of cat and mouse, seeing who would give up first.

Your mother was so sick of the hermit lifestyle you now lived that she forced you to go outside. “Look, sun! Fresh air! The outdoors! Go do something, just - just leave that room of yours. And don’t come back for at least an hour” you were told.

To ensure her happiness, you decided to visit the coffee shop that was a twenty minute walk away. The walk there, time spent drinking your coffee, then the walk back would satisfy your mothers request. Something you forgot to take into account was how exactly you would get there.

As you neared the location where it happened, where Hoseok also happened to live, you felt the hair rise on your neck.

It felt like you were being watched, like hands would reach out and grab you at any moment.

The sunny day ensured that you were just being paranoid.

Still, it was a feeling you just couldn’t shake.

You held your breath as you passed the stretch of road, not realizing you had done so until you were gasping for air past Hoseok’s house. Accidentally, you bumped into someone and looked up.

“Sorry, I -”

It was the man who saved you.

He seemed just as shocked to see you.

“Hey! Long time no see.” He looked unchanged, the same as he had that day. And he wished he could say the same for you. You looked more frail, the dark bags resting beneath your eyes making him worry. “How are you doing?” Despite the question, he seems to already know the answer.

It had been a few months since anyone had asked you that. But for a short while following the incident, it was all you heard.

“I’m fine. How are you? And actually, I don’t think I ever got your name either.” Was that rude? Maybe you should have asked his name that night but the only thing you had wanted was Hoseok. After that, nothing else mattered.

“I‘m doing good, thanks. I’m sorry for not having introduced myself properly that night but I’m Kim Namjoon. Are you free now? Maybe we could grab a coffee and catch up.” When he smiles, you can’t help but smile back at him.

“Yeah, that sounds great actually!”

Recounting that night was the last thing you wanted to do. Not since it already haunted your dreams. Instead, Namjoon talked about his life. He was in his twenties, had a dog (”Truthfully, I think he hates me”), studied English literature and exuded this air of intelligence that made you truly listen. His every word fascinated you, helped you forget for just a little while.

“You know something,” you smile, leaning your elbow on the table.

He looks up at you over the steaming cup of coffee, a curious look on his face. “What?”

“You would make an excellent teacher.”

He laughs, the first time you realize he had dimples. And now that you see them, it’s all you can see.

“Ah, thank you! That’s my goal actually. Hopefully some day I can make that dream a reality. But in order to do so I need to study aaaand ..” he trails off but you get the gist.

“And you have to go,” you finish for him.

Namjoon pulls his sleeve back to glance at his watch. He nods, face scrunching up apologetically. “Sorry! But it was great getting to talk to you. Maybe we can do this again sometime.”

Namjoon left you with his phone number and a light feeling in your chest. You watch as he strode out of the coffee shop, his long legs leading him out of your line of vision in no time.

Your pathetic investigation wasn’t getting you anywhere you realize, only tired and friendless. Meeting Namjoon again not only brought you out of that slump but made you wonder if it was even worth all the hassle.

Pulling your phone out, you search for a number you hadn’t texted in a while.

[To: Hobi 💕 ] [15:47]

Hey, long time no see. I’m really sorry for how I acted before but if you’re free some time, I’d like to apologize in person 🙈

It didn’t take Hoseok long to respond.

[Received at 15:51]

(Nickname)!!!! 💖💞💘 I’m so happy to hear from you!! You don’t have to apologize, let’s just meet & be friends again ~ Are you free tomorrow??

And so plans were arranged.

Of course you would still apologize but you were relieved that Hoseok was so forgiving. Especially since he had been irritated enough by your words to ignore you for so long. But that was your fault too, you’re aware of that. If you hadn’t been so stupid in the first place then none of this would have transpired.

You were awake most of the night, thinking your fight over and over and how to apologize to Hoseok until you knew exactly what you would say, word for word. But Hoseok hadn’t listened, didn’t even let you say anything. He said he didn’t care and pulled you into his bedroom to lay down and watch a movie instead.

“Any suggestions?” he had asked.

The movie he puts on is okay, nothing terrible, but the pacing was too slow. You were loosing interest, mind drifting away to the case. You weren’t a detective, that’s for sure. Looking back, the doppelganger theory seemed so stupid and maybe Hoseok was right about giving up the futile search. Even Namjoon had made you feel as if moving past this was the only way forward.

You lift your head from Hoseok’s shoulder, to look into his eyes. He giggles, “What is it?” There was something so captivating about his smiles. From childhood to now, they always warmed your heart.

“I met the guy today, the one who helped me back then.”

“Oh, really? Did you guys talk?”

You nod. “Yeah. His name’s Namjoon. He’s really nice.”

“Ah, that’s good to hear.”

You move back, propped up by your elbow. Something was off about Hoseok’s demeanor. He didn’t look surprised at all; not to hear you had met your saviour nor that his name was Namjoon.

“What?” he laughs, only this laugh sounded forced. “Kim Namjoon is a good guy you said. Why are you looking at me so strangely?”

A sinking feeling settled in your gut.

A frown marred your features. “How do you know his full name? I never said it ...” you trailed off, a sudden look of realization dawned your face and Hoseok knew you had figured it out. “It’s you - You’re why the guys thought I had information.”

The smile Hoseok shot you was one that didn’t suite him, at least it didn’t suite the Hoseok you knew. It was tight lipped and snide, his tone turning poisonous. “I told you to leave it alone but you just wouldn’t. That was always your problem; never knowing when to fucking quit.”

You struggle to crawl away. That didn’t sound like your Hoseok, it was someone else overtaking his body but you knew that was just wishful thinking. “You’re the leader of the Bangers,” you say.

It was a statement, not a question.

He laughs. “Of course. Those assholes assumed I’d be dumb enough to leak information to you.” The Monster gang were below him.

Hoseok was cunning and his love for you was too strong. Telling you about his secret would only put you in danger. And put his group in danger too. How those goons found out about you was beyond him. Maybe they were getting less dumb as time passed but still, they were below him.

Not that they were a threat to him any longer ...

He can’t describe just how he felt when you showed up at his door, crying and afraid. But the attack he led afterwards on the Monsters is surely enough of an illustration. It earned him a leg injury but that was nothing compared to the satisfaction of revenge.

A gang needs a leader but with that out of the equation, it was simply a waiting game until the Monsters crumbled.

“Why?” Your voice cracks. He prepares himself for a barrage of curses and disgust. “Why did you lie to me for so long? I thought you trusted me!”

He was speechless, not having expected this reaction. Where was the repulsion? Or the anguish? All he saw was a broken heart.

“I tell you everything,” you shout. “I trust - no, I trusted you with all my secrets, all my pain and happiness. You were always the person I ran to but maybe my friends were right. Maybe I am stupid to love you.”

Not only was he speechless but breathing was no longer an ability of his.

You shoot him one last teary glare before marching out. He watches you in disbelief before he finally finds his voice.

“What the fuck just happened.”

Your thoughts were rampant with Hoseok, repeating every interaction you ever had with him like a broken record. You reminisced your childhood, growing up in the house next to him. You would play and laugh together, what feels like a distant memory now. How did that same boy grow up to be a gang leader? There was never any indication. All those times you ran to him when you were upset, hurt, overjoyed; he embraced you, made you feel safe.

Not once did you ever think he could harbour such a secret.

The jarring ring of your phone made you jump.

Not for the first time has your phone rang. Ever since you ran out on Hoseok, your phone’s made various rings and beeps. None you bothered to check. Your family was home, they knew you were safe. Friends could wait and Hoseok did not deserve your response.

At least not yet.

Not while you still had so much thinking to do.

Maybe this was your biggest downfall. For all your thinking, all your amateur detective work, you never figured out the real Jung Hoseok.

Suddenly, your bedroom door was thrown open.

In lumbered Hoseok, who shut the door and locked it before you could even blink. You sit up, shocked, pushing yourself away until you were pressed against the headboard.

“Don’t do that,” he frowns. “Don’t look so scared of me.”

“What are you doing here?”

His brows shoot up into his hairline. “What am I doing here? You’re the nutjob who told me you loved me then ignored me! Why do you think I’m here!?”

“You lied about being the head of a gang,” you spat out.

“It’s not a lie - It just never came up in conversation!”

There was a heavy silence.

“Get the fuck out of my room, Hoseok,” you scoff.

He winces, his birth name sounding so wrong from your lips. For as long as he could remember, he was your ‘Hobi.’

“No, we need to talk,” he presses.

With a pointed look, you gesture to your desk. “Okay, then sit and talk. Let’s start with what the hell you’re doing in a gang.”

Ignoring the chair you pointed at, he sits at the end of your bed.

“Okay,” he sighs. “I’m not as innocent as I may seem. My mom got sick a few years back, you remember, right?” After your nod, he continues. “Well Dad could barely pay the medical bills so I told him I’d get a job. Which I did, but .. not the legal kind. It started with me and Namjoon then, more of a crazy idea than anything. Then it just kept growing and,” there’s a distant look in his eyes as he remembers all that took place, “I never wanted to involve you. Or my family. So I kept it all a secret, thinking it would keep you safe.”

“Those guys from the Monsters didn’t know it was a secret, though,” you say. “That’s why they came after me.”

He nods gravely. “It’s lucky that Joonie was coming to discuss something with me, otherwise ..” with a sigh, he shakes his head. “No, I don’t want to think about that.”

“Why did you make Namjoon talk to me?” you wonder. “Why did I go for coffee with a criminal?”

“Because you wouldn’t let it go! You couldn’t get over it so I thought he could act as -”

“Closure,” you realize.

Hoseok lets you think for a moment.

He sits there, at the end of you bed, feeling as if there was an oceans distance between you. You looked different but more than that, you looked at him differently. He wasn’t the innocent boy you had known, he was laid completely bare before you, his good and bad now revealed and he felt naked.

“We have something more important to talk about though.” He licks his lips. “You said .. You said you love me.” When he meets your gaze, he’s stunned to find you smiling. “What?”

“You said ‘something more important.’ So this is more important than you running a criminal enterprise?”

He gives a crooked grin. “Guess it is.”

Shifting forward, you inch closer to Hoseok. “I don’t have anything to add to that. I love you and I have for a long time now.” You slip your hand into his, happy when he squeezes back. “I love all of you, even the bad sides. But I can’t continue to love you if you ever lie to me again.”

He beams suddenly, like a sudden explosion of the sun. “You don’t know how happy I am.” Then, as if the sun shut off, his smile falls and with a serious gaze, he pushes you back. With Hoseok now on top, you feel vulnerable beneath him. “I love you too, (Y/N). And anything I’ve ever done was what I thought was the best for you.”

“You know what’s best for me?” you whisper, eyes trained on his lips and that mole near them.

Getting the hint, he leans down and captures your lips in a kiss. Your scent was flooding his senses, overwhelming his thoughts. He pulls back, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I love you,” he tells you.

“I love you too, Jung Hoseok.”

Love is a complex thing. There’s no written guidelines to follow or an easy way to earn it. It’s shown through a display of trust, self sacrifice and care, among many things. To define it would be blasphemy.

But whatever this complex emotion was - it was shared between you and Hoseok. And whatever your future may hold, you can’t predict. But as long as you have Hoseok, you know you can conquer it together.

[lunaraen]

”If you say let’s split up, I swear to God.” Petra and any Jesse of your choice

There’s an unexpected monotony,to being stuck in one place for the rest of the foreseeable eternity.

They don’t think they count as apoltergeist.

Scaring people, haunting theirdreams and waking them up in the middle of the night, isn’t as fun as it was atfirst, braver people getting used to blaming it on the creaking of the houseand cursing the wind.

They know ordinary people justtrying to live, even if it’s as disrespectful trespassers who don’t belonganywhere near here, have fair reason to suppose that, but it makes them tryharder. The wind deserves the credit it gets, but by that same token, so dothey.

Their only companion is the wind,and even that can come and go. Lately, however, it’s been rather empathetic.

It rages and howls like it wantsto tear the town up into nothing, leave a gaping void in its place and makeeveryone in it regret ever existing, and they can relate.

They’re biased, of course.

They died here. They died anunfair death.

They think they did, at least.They don’t actually remember what happened. The anger’s been all they’ve knownfor a while, blistering and bubbling beneath the silvery nothingness they callskin, beyond being dead.

They’re also beginning to thinklife must be so much better just because being alive means being happy.

(Most people, they’d like tothink, have the common sense not to build over somebody’s grave, but it seemsthat’s been treated with the same amount of dignity as the odd fortress thatwas torn down and used for resources as soon as the town went up.

Something feels wrong about theempty space left behind.

Maybe it’s just that it couldjust as easily be because all of this feels rather wrong in the first place andbecause it doesn’t take much for them to see the intruders who built thissettlement as callous.)

The anger, for once, is joined bysomething faintly familiar, just for a moment or two as there’s a new sort ofdisturbance to join the same searing rage.

Curiosity, they think. That’swhat this used to be, isn’t it?

But the anger blazes brighter,stronger, as they peer out from a window, head sticking out halfway through thesmooth glass as they look down at the odd little group. Whatever faint, neutralfeeling they once had, curiosity or nothing at all, is fully pushed aside asthe fury roars in their ears, makes their fingers tremble.

They know these people.

How do they know these people?And why do they want to remove them even more than they do most people?

They stare until their headstarts hurting, and it occurs to them that these people look an awful lot likethe ones on the few gaudy posters plastered around the wretched town.

Heroes.

So they think they’re heroes, dothey? Expecting to take down a vengeful spirit like it’s no problem, likethey’ve done it before…

Maybe they have. But it takes aspecial brand of fool to think heroes really exist.

People are too selfish at heart,too cruel and pitiful and scared, to be real heroes. And those dumb enough totry die pointlessly in the process.

Nothing good ever comes of heroesand people who wish to be them.

And they feel it so strongly theyknow it must be true, and proving idiots who’d dare walk on their unmarked,disturbed grave so very wrong sounds perfect as a way to spice things up.

It’s hard to call it a quietnight, and as much as they enjoy the wind, it makes hearing what their targetsare saying harder than it would otherwise be on such an empty night. Theywonder how they missed the crowd that must have started here when peoplerealized their beloved idols were here, but a glance at the horses hiding inthe halfway-decent cover the inn’s stable provides makes them think they mightbe the only ones who know, beyond the inn-keeper.

How lucky for them.

Whatever’s said, far too warm andtoo laced with laughter and happiness to have any place in a place like this,never mind a night like this, they enter the inn. It’s far easier to sinkthrough the window gain and the floors to hear them than trying to read theirall too happy, smiling lips.

(Why does it feel like someone’swalking all over their grave?

Oh wait.)

The dim, dying torchlight fromthe empty room they just left pales in comparison to the blazing fire, bathingwhatever it can in the room with its warm orange glow, few parts touched onlyby the cool torchlight. They feel only a shadow of warmth, despite hoveringright above it.

They tell themselves that’s whatbothers them and not how even more familiar the little band of idiots looks.

The smallest one, though theyknow size can be more misleading than it can ever be telling, clasps theirhands, their frustratingly familiar looking gloves somehow not making theaction look any less relaxed or friendly, as they turn to the others in thegroup.

“Well guys, it looks likewe’ve got a lot of ground to cover. Let's–”

They recognize the eye roll theredhead gives. It’s one they’ve been giving to many of the more annoying peoplewho live here who can’t see them.

(Except hers almost looks fond,her tone too overly dry to be remotely serious.)

“If you say ‘let’s splitup’, I swear to Notch…”

She has the same rag-tag, cobbledtogether, ragged armor as most thieves, liars scum grave-robbers, do, but thered, alive vibrant heated, sticks out from the blue and gold. They rememberseeing hair like that, once.

That sense of misplaced, unknownnostalgia gets even stronger if they look too closely at the large one in greenand the smaller one in red, so they don’t.

The feeling’s better with theblond, for a moment, but then it gets just as strong.

Must be the anger.

They’d rather not look at anyonehere, now that they’ve gotten a closer look and clearly have realized how muchthey hate these ‘heroes’, but they need to be here to get rid of them.

That’s why they lean back with ahuff they know no one can hear.

In the process, the vase thatthey had forgotten was behind them wobbles, tipping back and forth on itslittle spot on top of the shelf and making more noise than it has any right toit, clicking and clacking against the delicately patterned plate beneath it.

They hadn’t wanted to rattle itthis time, but after getting so good at it for so long, it’s become a habit.

A habit that’s easy for others tolaugh off, apparently.

Or at least chuckle off as theirtargets apparently decide what everyone else usually does, that it must bebecause of the wind outside and as long as the vase hasn’t shattered into amillion pieces, it’s nothing to be concerned about.

“Alright, alright, maybe notthe best idea.”

Red, intensity and brilliance andwarmth, and green, life and energy and boundless curiosity.

Red and green. What does it mean?

And the anger… dies down alittle. It isn’t as suffocating, for the first time in… ever. They feel alittle light, actually.

It hurts.

Why does it hurt?

They tune the little group out.

It’s not the anger, the rage, thefury, and the light, bubbly feeling is still there, but it feels like something’sbroken.

Do they have a heart? A soul?Aren’t they already just a soul? Can a soul have a heart to hurt?

Maybe they do.

Whatever it is, it hurts. Itstings, burns, aches, fiery and slow and suffocating.

They want the pain to stop.

They sort of float there,hovering about the ground and feeling as if there’s some kind of bitingnothingness eating them from the inside, but just because time’s screwy for thedead doesn’t mean it stops passing for the living.

Unfortunately, there’s not muchof an investigation.

Or any.

That’s disappointing.

They’re tempted to slip away, notthat there’s much need for subtlety on a night like this in a place like this,and not that they have to slink around when this entire town is essentiallytheir disrupted grave, but there’s something about the grin the redhead hasthat catches their attention, warrior disappearing into the same room asleader.

There’s that curiosity again.

The others seem to go into their own rooms, but that’s hardly as interesting.

A plan? It has to be. Why elsewould the leader and warrior be in the same room, especially after the earlierfrustration about splitting up?

They get a bit too excited,perhaps, about finding the trespassers plotting their spiritual doom.

But it’s still disappointed tofind that the music isn’t a cover up.

Not exactly.

Because while the two of them aretogether, they’re just moving. Weirdly. With each other in rhythm to the musicas they shuffle back and forth across the floor at their own pace and lookingfor all the word like they’re as happy as can be, their armor discarded and forgotten in a corner as they stay warm in their coats and fuzzy clothes.

Few creatures are as weird as theliving.

(Dancing. That’s the word.

Why are they dancing?

It doesn’t seem very heroic orlike something that would hurt a ghost.)

“Okay Jesse, is this how youexpected your vacation to go?”

Neither of them change up the rhythm,go faster or slower, even as there’s a shared smile, and there’s that blastedfondness again.

“Maybe not, but I don’t see anyreason to complain about it. I’d say we’re all having fun.” No one should beable to have such a soft giggle on a night like tonight. What they think hasnever stopped anyone, though, and it continues to do nothing here. “Besides, weget to check out a tourist trap, they get to have us tell them there are noghosts to actually worry about, so everybody’s happy.”

And they both laugh, chucklesbecoming giggles as 'Jesse’ pulls the other closer.

Vacation?

Vacation?

The word, full of warmth and contentmentand joy, makes them feel like ice.

They’re not here for them?

But aren’t they a monster?Haven’t they been causing enough trouble to get heroes to try and take care ofthem?

(They could throw more dishes,make more noise, but… they don’t want to. These people have never doneanything to them. No one has. Swords can’t damage ghosts, and ghosts can’t domuch but move swords around, and they don’t want to stab anybody or anything,so it would just be horribly awkward and confusing if they did try to pick afight.)

Aren’t they good enough to lookfor, though? Good enough to not be brushed off so easily as the wind or paranoia?

Jesse nuzzles the taller one,pressing a kiss to her cheek before sinking more into the coat as they keep dancing.

And the anger dies down a littlemore, replaced by more bubbly aching.

Somebody moved that way with themonce.

It was nice.

They miss that.

Red and green and pain, armorthat’s hauntingly familiar and well-kept in a way that makes their hearts warmand hurts to look at all at the same time, tourist traps and disturbed deathbeds and anger with nowhere to go.

It’s all so, so much.

They want to rest.

But there’s not really an endafter death, not one that they know of.

So they sit up there, on theroof, exerting just enough power not to slip beneath the wood and disturb thehappy people below.

(They wish they could be thathappy now. They remember a time when they were, but even what they remember issad. All they could think of was angry, terrified people, people they couldn’thelp, people they’d lost and who had trusted them and who they’d miserablyfailed.

And then, softer, duller, andsomehow sharper all at once, they’d been so happy, so thrilled, that somebody,maybe even lots of people, weren’t dead. They hadn’t failed.

And then they died.

They wish they didn’t rememberanything. Then maybe the pain would go away.)

Chimney smoke lifts from thehouses as softly as the quiet music does below them, swirling in the air beforeslowly becoming nothing as it dissipates in the few fluffy clouds and gentlemoonlight.

[coleymari-blog]

A War Fought at Home : Chapter 5

Corporal Natsu Dragneel has been through Hell, and unfortunately for him, the ride isn’t quite over. How will a new Rehab program at the local VA help? And will a certain blonde help make matters better?

Modern Military AU. Warnings for mentions of depression and adult language/situations. Other warnings to come as the story progresses. Cross post on AO3 and FF.net.

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

"How much longer are you going to be in there?!"

Natsu was pacing in the hallway, towel, clothes, and kit in his lap as he waited for Gray to finish in the bathroom. He'd been up since the crack of dawn because of one of his nightmares but had stayed in bed, staring at his ceiling as the droplets of cold sweat dried on his skin. By the time he was ready to pry himself off his mattress, he'd been annoyed to find Gray already showering.

"Come on, Popsicle Dick," he yelled while banging on the door enough to be considered agitating. "We've gotta meet Luce in an hour!"

Cracking the door open, Gray stuck his head through, cold water dripping on Natsu's exposed thighs. How he could shower with literal liquid ice was beyond the pinket's comprehension. Doing it overseas was enough. No need to do that shit at home when Gray, himself, maintained the hot water heater. "I get that you're excited to see Lucy, but can I finish washing my ass first?" he questioned gruffly, slamming the plywood door shut before Natsu even had a chance to answer. The Marine waited for an eternity, or ten minutes before his roommate finally exited the bathroom, nothing but a towel keeping Natsu from seeing everything. "There you go," Gray remarked coolly, walking back to his room, leaving a frustrated Natsu to wheel into the slippery tiled room.

After a rapid shower, Natsu made sure to look absolutely perfect for his day with Lucy. He spiked his salmon hair, picked his favorite jeans, and was even able to lace up his own Chucks. If it wasn't for the chair, he looked like he was going on an actual date. Shaking his head, he couldn't help but chuckle at himself and his patheticness. Spending time with a blonde goddess did not equal a date. He had to get that through his thick skull. All he was doing was helping her find a place to live. That was the real mission, to keep Lucy in Magnolia.

The two Marines, both in their civvies, piled into their van and took off for the VA. "Did she say how she was going to be transporting you?" Gray asked once he had Natsu locked in. Honestly, he hadn't even thought about it.

Reverting to his standard defense, Natsu shrugged. "Probably in her flying car," he quipped, "Or walking slash rolling. Don't really care."

Gray snickered under his breath and Natsu half-hoped that his buddy would give him some type of hell, but was left disappointed. The raven-haired driver remained silent for the rest of their drive, only speaking again once they arrived in the VA parking lot.

Lucy, standing by the curb, was the first thing that caught Natsu's attention. Her white linen sundress waved softly around her thighs, clutching onto the rest of her and her golden hair hung loosely over her shoulders. She looked like Summer incarnate and it took his breath away. The van pulled up to meet her and Gray couldn't move fast enough in the other's eyes.

Once they were on solid ground again, Natsu and Gray made their way to Lucy, greeted by her warm smile as always. "Hey you two!" she singsonged, waving excitedly at them both. Her voice always had this bell-like quality to it that made Natsu's stomach flip. She thanked them both for meeting her, and the group chit chatted for a few minutes before Gray finally took off, leaving them to their own devices.

"Thank you for offering to help me, Natsu," Lucy thanked kindly, her chocolate eyes dropping to the floor as her cheeks flushed. He wheeled up next to her in order to gaze up at her, trying to contain his sense of awe like always.

"What kind of friend would I be if I didn't try to help?" the Corporal replied, his voice full of optimism. The obvious obstacle still confused him though. "How are we getting around today anyway?"

Brushing her hair back, Lucy nodded to the Subway platform near the street corner. "There's a stop right in the middle of the area of town I was looking at," she explained as the two made their way to the platform. She smiled brightly as she continued like she was proud. "I even made sure there was elevator access. AND there's wheelchair access on every cart." Lucy blushed again as if she was embarrassed by her own excitement. "Unless you'd rather something else. Maybe we can call Sergeant Fullbuster and use your van?"

No way was Popsicle Dick standing between him and his day with Lucy. Shaking his head assertively, Natsu grinned as they neared the elevator doors. He leaned over quickly in order to beat her to the button, chuckling at his small victory.

"Subway's fine by me," he answered as cheerfully as possible despite mentally preparing for the onslaught of people down in the terminal. As much as he hated to admit it, Natsu didn't exactly do well in big crowds anymore, not since coming back from Alvarez. Whenever he was surrounded by others he felt like he was lost in a sea of bodies, swallowed whole without a life preserver. Not to mention crowds provided way too much of a sensory overload, his eyes always shifting to cover all access points, always listening for the slightest out-of-place sound. Like they said, you could take the man out of the Corps, but you could never take the Corps out of a man.

Once they were both inside the elevator, Natsu instinctively let his fingers slide to the inside panel of his chair, instantly breathing a sigh of relief at the familiar cold feeling of steel. His tactical knife rested where it always did, assuring the Marine that he could handle anything that came at them.

"Do you always carry your knife with you?" came a small voice over the sounds of squeaking gears. Looking up into her eyes and finding only the smallest amounts of fear, Natsu decided to explain himself...to an extent.

"Can't carry my Colt anymore, but at least I can keep my knife," Natsu explained, bits of shame tinging his voice as they arrived at the underground platform. If you didn't pass the Eval upon Return Home (or in his case refused to take it), you couldn't get your carry permit unless you went through civilian channels. No way was he going through that bullshit again. The two of them made their way out of the cart before the Marine stopped off to the side in order to catch his breath. The crowds were shifting like the tide and it made him physically ill. Before he knew it, a certain blonde came into view and the feeling of weight on his shoulders jogged him from his haze.

"Are you alright, Natsu?" Lucy questioned, concern oozing from every pore in her body. She had placed both of her hands on either of his shoulders, pressing down lightly but just enough for him to feel her presence. It reminded him of his flak jacket bearing down on his chest and his heart immediately began to slow down a tad.

Swallowing, Natsu mustered the courage to answer honestly. Gildarts and the group really had made a difference after all. "Don't really like large crowds," he answered calmly, treasuring the feeling of having Lucy so damn close. He could smell the distinct scent that was her, like wildflowers and honey, finding it lulling and exciting all at the same time. Part of him wanted to explain himself further but something in him just wouldn't allow it.

Luckily it seemed that Lucy understood without him having to say another word. Nodding and smiling, she grabbed the handles of his chair and guided him to the mostly empty section of the station she could find, parking him next to a bench where she could sit beside him. There were a few bodies scattered around but nothing as bad as the platform entryway. The two of them sat and went over the ads in Lucy's newspaper, circling the ones that seemed most appealing. Time passed slowly but took Natsu's anxiety with it, allowing him to breathe in Lucy a bit easier and sit a bit stiller.

Half an hour passed before their train arrived. Luckily, Lucy held them back for a minute while people filed on and off the subway cars. Right before the final departure siren, she wheeled Natsu to the closest car which also happened to be one of the least occupied. Silently thanking her with his eyes, Natsu strapped his chair into the wall as Lucy took her seat beside him. The train took off almost immediately and they sat quietly as they waited for their stop.

That lasted until a small commotion caught Natsu's attention in the back of the car. Turning around, the Marine only needed to watch the scene for a couple second before knowing what needed to be done. An elderly woman, sitting by herself with a couple grocery bags, was being bothered by a couple of punk ass guys no older than 20. They had already knocked one of her bags to the ground before Natsu wheeled himself over.

"Didn't your parents teach you to treat women with respect?" he growled, gripping the wheel guides tightly. Even his chair couldn't curb his moral center.

The punks laughed at him, acting much tougher than he knew they were. The leader of the crew advanced on Natsu and pushed the pinket, causing him to roll slightly before catching himself. "Like you could do anything, crip," he fired back, his posse cheering him on like idiots. Natsu could see Lucy moving out of the corner of his eye but held his hand up to signal that he had control of the situation.

"Why don't you come over here and see what I can do about it," he teased, nodding the gangbanger over to him. The assailant took his challenge and darted at Natsu, only to be quickly apprehended and shoved into the wall of the car, all from his chair. His body simply reacted like normal, but it took everyone (including Lucy) by surprise.

The punk picked himself up and cupped his now bleeding nose. "You think you're slick huh?" he hissed before waving over his friends. The other two were just about to start in on the Marine as the train came to a stop, allowing the platform police officers to begin their patrols. The three quickly made their way off the subway and Natsu rolled back to the elderly woman to check on her. He was about to turn back to his seat when Lucy appeared beside him, the woman's bag fully refilled and placed on the bench next to her. They all chatted for the rest of their trip into town and she thanked Natsu for his bravery, commending him for aiding her and for 'restoring her faith in young people'.

Once the two of them were streetside, Natsu and Lucy immediately headed for the first location, a small studio apartment in an 'alright' part of town. Their mission went on for hours, each time becoming more and more disappointed at every location. After seeing ten different apartments, they settled in a nearby park while Lucy huffed annoyedly.

"I'm never going to find a place to live!" she yelled exasperatedly, nearly pulling her golden hair out by the roots. She was pacing on the manicured lawn, still ranting, as Natsu sat in his chair in the shade. As much as he hated the situation, he had to admit. Lucy was adorable when she was angry. Her tiny fists balled up as if they intended to do actual damage (which was laughable) and her face scrunched up causing wrinkles to appear all over. Still, he hated seeing her so distraught.

Natsu felt terrible for her. He couldn't imagine the kind of stress she was under and there wasn't much he could do to help… or was there? "You know, there's an extra room at our place," he murmured, half-hoping she wouldn't hear him. But of course, he wouldn't be so lucky. The blonde beauty's head snapped and she immediately locked gazes with him, sending chills down his spine.

"I couldn't do that to you and the Sergeant," Lucy replied honestly, coming to sit beside his chair on the grass. She brought her knees up and dropped her forehead to meet them, sighing. A moment of silence passed between them before Natsu cleared his throat and spoke again.

"Seriously Luce," her attention returned to his face but her lack of familiar warmth upset him. She wasn't Lucy without her thousand watt smile. "There's an extra room that we never use. We rent the house from our old Gunny for practically nothing as it is." Gently pushing on her shoulder, he grinned at her. "As long as you don't mind living with a couple of Jarheads, there's more than enough space for you."

Lucy's gaze gave nothing away, not even the slightest sentiment. He could tell that the gears in her mind were turning but that was all. Honestly, it scared him more than the sound of enemy fire. Did she think he was crazy for even offering? It wouldn't be that bad right? It's not like living with a girl would be that different from living with Gray. She blinked softly before sitting up, her eyes trained on his the whole time.

"Are you sure your roommate wouldn't mind?" she asked, her voice soft, mousey, and very un-Lucy. Natsu wanted to throw his fists up in the air in triumph. Had he really won?

"Nah, trust me. He'll be cool with it, promise," Natsu replied excitedly, saying silent prayers to whatever deity would be goodly enough to listen. "What do ya say, Luce?"

Smiling her trademark smile, Lucy shot up from her seated position and threw herself into Natsu's lap, throwing her arms around him in the largest embrace she'd ever given him. "Thank you, thank you, thank you Natsu!" she cheered.

The happiness she felt overshadowed the obvious obstacle that stood in their way. Now to get the Snow Princess on board...

Hey y'all! Sorry this is so late! I got sick for awhile, and between my two stories and Nalu Week I got SUPER behind. Hope y'all enjoyed this installment. Originally I was going to make Lucy find her own place nearby but I couldn't resist. :D

[thegloober]

Don't 'Fear the Walking Dead': The Secret History of a Serial Killer, Plus Someone Gets Bit

We weren’t sure if “Fear the Walking Dead” was going to go the way of “The Walking Dead” and only dispatch characters during its openers and closers — which is totally lame, by the way — but they’re going old-school “TWD” with death lurking around every corner.

Kudos to the creators of “FTWD” for picking up the torch dropped by “TWD” many years ago and keeping the show exciting and unpredictable. Last week, we declared that we would be sad if anyone from this newly-assembled group of survivors bit the dust right away, which is probably why things went down the way they did.

It’s a testament to the writers that they’ve made all of these characters endearing and intriguing in their own ways so that the loss of any of them is difficult. It definitely reminds us of the days when “TWD” was the water-cooler talk of the week because you genuinely never knew what was going to happen, or who might die at any moment.

But before we get to the heartache in the here and now, we’ve got to explore the heartache in the past that culminated in the “strong” woman (Tonya Pinkins), who now gets a name. In a brightly-colored flashback sequence, we meet Martha, stuck on the side of the road with her dying husband, impaled in the car with a guard rail.

We don’t see how it happened, but that must have been one hell of an accident.

“Someone Will Help Us”

Martha’s murderous mission these days is to not help anyone ever, but it turns out this may be a relatively new development for her. There is no clear timeline on when her husband died on her but she apparently snapped shortly after he died, lamenting to God, “I don’t want to be here and I don’t know why you didn’t take me!”

The next moment, we see her attacking a woman leaving a box at a -4 mile marker. From then, it’s a murderous rampage on both people stopping by the boxes and other people dropping them off, all on the search for the elusive “Polar Bear.” We follow her all the way up until she kills a box deliverer and then picks up the CB and catches Morgan (Lennie James) in that truck stop.

It certainly seemed like she snapped in a hurry, which is similar to how Morgan has lost it in the past. So he really does understand what she’s going through, even if her methods are a little extreme and a lot gross. Plus, we don’t really see a path for redemption for good ol’ Martha, though a final reckoning is due.

“This Was the Right Call”

This was an explosive episode that left the majority of our survivors on foot … or worse in Wendell’s (Daryl Mitchell) case. Martha’s attack on the truck culminated in her getting shot and the semi exploding in glorious fury, allowing her escape. Unfortunately, it also invited a horde of walkers, which she left to finish the work for her.

How very classic superhero villain of her, though she was honestly in no shape to take them all down. If you needed further proof she’s off her rocker, she came out of the tank with just one walker on a stick to face off against half a dozen survivors. She’s either extremely confident or reckless or just plain cuckoo.

And so the chase was on, with Wendell dragging everyone down after his wheelchair was destroyed. Dragging a full-grown man is tiresome work, and with a growing horde in your wake, it’s also terrifying work. So when Morgan saw a hospital sign, they saw salvation.

On the one hand, it worked a bit, as June (Jenna Elfman) tried to assure Morgan. She was able to patch everyone up and Wendell got some new wheels. But the excitement kept coming, as it became a race through the hospital after the dead broke in and began to fill the floors one by one until the survivors had no recourse but to make for the roof.

It was an adrenaline-filled sequence, and the kind of thrills we need to see on these shows. The dead are still very much a threat, and especially in large numbers. It’s nice to see them still a menace that needs to be dealt with, can’t always just be killed off easily, and can still get their chomps in.

“I Have Beer to Make”

We were all so proud of Jim (Aaron Stanford) when he got his first-ever zombie kill in the hospital. Finally, he stepped up and took care of the danger himself. Only he didn’t.

Well, he killed the walker, but he will pay the ultimate price for doing so. And he thought it wasn’t so hard, after all, even getting a little smug once they finally emerged on the roof. They are a threat that should never be fully minimized, as the parent series does too often, and it was beautifully handled here.

Jim is the least capable of the group, so the most likely to succumb to a bite while grappling with a walker. He’s just not going to be as careful of their reach and bite as he should. And now no one is going to get any fresh beer.

And while Jim is also the easiest character to dispatch, as he’s the least developed, and the most unlikable, it still counts as a genuinely unexpected death. It’s the kind of thing “Dead” shows should be doing more often. This world is dangerous and unpredictable, so the shows depicting it should be, too. It’s nice to see one of them doing it, at least.

“I Just Need Something to Be Good”

Alicia (Alycia Debnam-Carey) and Charlie (Alexa Nisenson), on the other hand, had an arc that stretched plausibility so hard I can’t believe it didn’t snap. Sure, we don’t yet know for sure who they found at the flooded lake, but we totally know who they found at the flooded lake.

After lamenting that they both needed something to go right for them — which apparently entailed abandoning everything and everyone to make for the beach, Charlie hears the sound of water and they stumble upon the lake. Instant beach? Also, instant hope for Victor (Colman Domingo) and John (Garret Dillahunt), we can only assume.

It was easily one of the most ridiculous sequences of the season so far, but stranding the guys on a newly flooded island was a little silly, too. we then spent the better part of an episode watching them fail to leave, and now they’re going to have to be rescued. Honestly, we could have done without this bizarre diversion for any of these characters.

Alicia being a quitter again is annoying and getting old, while Charlie is suddenly the one with a conscience. Victor was his usual drunken useless self. The only thing worth watching in all of it was Garret Dillahunt’s inspired performance as the eternally optimistic John finally reaching his breaking point, and we didn’t even get to see him in this episode.

With only two episodes left, it looks like everyone will be reuniting and we’ll have a final showdown with Martha.

“Fear the Walking Dead” airs Sundays at 9 p.m. ET on AMC.

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