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wonustars · 16 hours ago

Text

In Front of Me (1)

cause i was blind to see that you were right in front of me ₊˚

⊹ pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader ⊹ genre: bestfriends to (?), angst, smut (R: 18+ mdni) ⊹ wordcount: 40.6k (part 1) (part 2: here)

⊹ summary: jeon wonwoo has spent most of his adolesence and early adult hood unable to understand why he can't seem to stay in a relationship for more than a few months. as his best friend, you allowed him to vent about his worries without judgment. so what if you're in love with him? your friendship with wonwoo meant more to you than having your feelings reciprocated. that is until you hit your breaking point, while wonwoo finally realizes what has been in front of him this whole time.

⊹ tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, unrequited love (for the most part), pining, toxic!wonwoo, toxic!reader, both in wonwoo and readers pov, questionable protagonists, mentions of other svt members, happy ending (?), emotionally constipated characters (wonwoo), flashbacks, slight seokmin x reader, a lot of emotions thrown everywhere. (content warnings under the cut)

⊹ note: this story was meant to be posted for wonwoos bday, but if you know anything about me by now, i never really stick to my self made deadlines lol. thank you to my cutieful, big brained beta readers: ♡ @junkissed @chocosvt and @sunniques ♡ everyone in @svthub and @highvern and @gyuswhore who helped me w this fic as well ! if u look closely this is pretty much just a sugar coated version of real life events lol... anyways i hope u enjoy and lmk what u think thru the replies and reblogs :) !

⊹ masterlist, fic playlist.

⊹ smut tags: no smut in this part :p ⊹ warnings: alcohol, reader is downbad for wonwoo, stalking, slut-shaming, evasions of privacy, if i missed anything lmk! cuz ik i did i just can't think of what hehe :p

⊹ what i would like to note about this story before you read it: you're not meant to like these characters (for most of the story at least lol), they are flawed in many ways, thats the whole point of this story tbh. tmi--but this story is pretty much my free therapy lol. and i love a messy plot! wonwoo and reader are just two normal people in this story and i wanted to write something a little more raw than i'm used to. so just take what i say with a grain of salt before reading ♡ i still want you to enjoy this story because i poured my soul into it. so thank you for your support and kind asks and comments about the teaser!

prologue.

Despite your age, you’ve never been in a serious relationship. There was always something holding you back, or rather, someone.

In all the years you’ve known Wonwoo, you’ve always thought maybe one day, he would look at you in a different light. Hoping that he could reciprocate the feelings you’ve harboured for him since the eleventh grade.

He was the one who constantly moved out of relationships. You couldn’t even count the amount of late-night calls where he asked you what his “next step” should be. The doting best friend that you are, you’d gladly stay up all night trying to help him fix his girl problems.

“I just, I don’t have feelings for her anymore. Is that wrong?” he asked you over the phone.

Tossing and turning in your bed you let out a deep sigh. One thing is always guaranteed with Wonwoo: in a relationship, he loses feelings quickly. No matter how much he likes the girl, no matter how obsessed or possessive he feels for them at the beginning of it all, it diminishes by the time the six-month mark hits.

Although he may be a great friend to you, relationships were never his strong suit.

“It’s not wrong to fall out of love, but how many times are you going to break up with someone before you decide to stay?” you ask him, and he pauses to think.

“I don’t know, but I can’t stay, that would make things worse,” he sighs. “It’s better to just stop this whole thing now.”

“I agree, but are you sure?” you continue to ask him the same questions you’ve been asking since you were sixteen.

“I’m sure,” he replies with a heavy sigh.

“Okay, then goodnight. It’s almost one in the morning,” you try to cut the call, but he continues to speak.

“I’m not the bad guy, right?” he asks you for reassurance.

“No, you’re just human Wonwoo. There’s nothing wrong with losing feelings for someone,” you affirmed.

“Alright, thank you, good night and sweet dreams,” he whispers listlessly.

“Good night, Wonwoo.”

Your phone beeps indicating that he’s hung up and you can feel the heartstrings pull inside your chest. How many times will it take for Wonwoo to find someone he actually wants to be with? And why is it never you?

act one, favorite crime.

chapter one.

“Wait, what? You and Wonwoo aren’t dating?” Seungcheol asks you, forcing you into the hot seat.

The rest of your friend group is boring holes into your face as they all sit around Jeonghan’s living room. The blood rises in your cheeks, but you shake your head anyway.

It feels like every time you’re with your friends, they ask you the same set of questions. Constantly wondering why you and Wonwoo haven’t thought about dating, or why you two haven’t decided to take the chance and just be together.

“You guys need to stop asking that. A guy can befriend someone of the opposite gender,” Wonwoo defends the two of you.

“You’re telling me in all the years you’ve known her, you haven’t developed feelings for her once?” Cheol continues to instigate, and your eyes go wide.

Looking over at Wonwoo, you anxiously wait for his answer, your chest blooming with hope, only for those buds to be washed away in a millisecond.

“No, c’mon, we’re just friends. That’s it, right?” Wonwoo turns to you, trying to get you to back him up.

Your mouth runs dry as he stares at you, his eyebrows rising in anticipation.

“U-uh yeah, Wonwoo’s right, we’re just friends,” you blurt out, not being able to handle all the expectant eyes on you all at once.

“See? Now can you all just get off our backs?” he chastises.

The chatter starts up again, moving past the topic of you and Wonwoo’s friendship. But you sit there, with your heart crushed in your hands, lifeless and shrivelled. Like his words and actions had the power to tear the life out of you. The worst part was that he did all this without knowing. He’s completely oblivious to your feelings, and you only have yourself to blame.

You understand your relationship with Wonwoo is different from most people’s, but at the same time, it should be normal for a girl and a guy to just be friends. And at least you respect Wonwoo’s feelings, and you also respect that whenever he’s dating someone the dynamic between you two shifts.

He becomes more detached when he’s in a relationship, and you’re okay with that. His priorities change and you’re okay with that. Despite your feelings for him, you know that you can’t force him to feel the same way. And you should be okay with that.

You’ve never tried to get in the way of his love life, or purposefully give him bad advice to ruin what he has with someone else. Not since you were seventeen, and at that time in your life your frontal lobe was a measly speck of dust, but it's different now. Now, your morals don’t change just because you love him, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less to see the person you’re in love with, fall in love with someone else.

two.

“Hey, you okay?” Seokmin approaches you, and you turn your head, acknowledging his presence.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m alright,” you mutter, but you know you don’t look that way.

Seokmin has known you since high school and has seen you through everything, probably more than Wonwoo. He knows when you’re not feeling well. A sympathetic permanent on his lips as he continues to observe you play with the food on your plate, pushing around the food aimlessly but never taking a bite.

The sounds of people conversing throughout the dining hall never die down. But luckily, the commotion keeps your thoughts of Wonwoo at bay, or at least that’s what you like to think. But your heart can’t seem to let go of that moment from the other day. Having Seungcheol confirm that Wonwoo has never felt anything romantically for you was like a stab in the stomach, and him getting you to back up his words was just him twisting the knife.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? You can tell me,” he sighs, pushing the hair covering your face and placing it behind your ear.

You can feel the tears start to pool, but you try your damndest not to let them spill—not like this, not in front of so many people.

“It was just something Wonwoo said when we were all at Hannie’s house,” you mumble, refusing to make eye contact with your friend.

“What did he say?”

“That he’s never liked me before,” you sigh, feeling a tear slip from your eye.

Cursing yourself in your head, you hate how much your feelings for him affect you. You hate how he doesn’t have to even be in front of you, yet he can still cause your emotions to fluctuate.

“It’s alright,” he coos, pulling you into his strong arms.

It felt weird, to hug Seokmin so tightly in the middle of your university’s dining hall. But you’re thankful for how aware he is, how he actually cares about your feelings. You felt melodramatic sitting there crying in the fucking dining hall of all places, but you couldn’t help but let your tears flow as Seokmin comforts you with his soft voice.

“You deserve more than this, I hope you know that,” he whispers in your ear.

three.

Over the next few days, the words Seokmin had whispered to you kept replaying in your head. You did deserve better and looking at all of Wonwoo’s past relationships is the perfect example. He’s not exactly the ideal boyfriend, so why did you even have feelings for him in the first place?

You could feel a migraine coming on from how hard you were thinking, but Wonwoo still seems to be the only person you can’t let go of. No matter how many times you’ve tried.

A knock on your door brings you out of your thoughts. It was late, and you don’t remember anyone messaging you saying that they were going to come over, but you open the door anyway.

“Hey, sorry I didn’t text,” Wonwoo moves past you, takes his shoes off, and plops on your couch.

“It’s okay, what’s up?” you move to sit beside him.

“I broke up with her,” He says, shrugging.

Taken aback by his nonchalance, your eyes widen. He seems calm for someone who has just broken up with his girlfriend. But you try not to think too hard about it, or you might just have to take another Advil to remedy your already growing headache.

“Well, how did it go?” you ask with a bit of apprehension.

Knowing Wonwoo, you knew that he probably just dumped her over the phone or something. He’s never been bothered to really break up with someone.

You have all these examples of why he would probably be the worst boyfriend ever, yet your heart still belongs to him. It’s pitiful, to say the least, people probably would think that you’re a masochist because you subject yourself to staying by his side when he has feelings for another.

“She was crying, but at least it’s over now,” Wonwoo informs you as he eats the snacks you had left on your coffee table.

“Oh.” You could feel the guilt start to seep into your veins.

It never felt good to hear Wonwoo talk about his breakups, but you’re not sure how to react. There’s a part of you that’s happy to know that he’s single again, but the majority of you pities the girl who had just gotten her heart broken.

Wonwoo continues to munch on the snacks left on your table while your mind tries to process the information you’ve been given. Hearing him talk so casually about his breakup leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, but you decide to switch topics instead of asking any more questions.

“Are you still going to Seokmin’s thing this weekend, though?” you ask him, trying to fill the air with something to drown out your rapid heartbeats.

He shrugs his shoulders, “If I feel like it. Are you?”

The bottom of your stomach tightens. You were hoping that he would go, even looking forward to it. Is that pathetic? To want to see him everywhere you go? Maybe you were pathetic to the point where you only felt like hanging out with your friends if he was there.

“I mean, I don’t have a ride so…” you trail off, pretending to pay attention to whatever was playing on the T.V. screen.

“I’ll go since you’re going, that way you have a ride,” he mumbles, adjusting his posture to lean back on your couch.

He sighs as he sinks into the plush cushions, spreading his legs while he puts his arms up. You’re very aware of his proximity, and you try not to let it show. But the smell of his cologne invades your senses, knocking the breath out of your chest.

Wonwoo’s arm circles your shoulder, pulling you closer to him and forcing your head to rest delicately on his broad shoulder. Exhaling, you let yourself enjoy his way of showing affection. Although to him it means nothing, and to you, quite literally everything.

“Thank you for agreeing to go to Seokmin’s so I have a ride,” you whisper but still avoid eye contact so he doesn’t notice your flustered expression.

“Thank you for letting me barge in here just so I can talk about my breakup,” he whispers back, kissing the top of your head.

“Of course, what are best friends for?”

four.

Most people fall in love gradually, slowly growing feelings for the person before they can even call it love. Like the way the seasons steadily turned from winter to spring. Green grass peeking from underneath the melting snow, or flowers gently blooming and unravelling their new set of stems and petals. For you, it was different.

Falling in love with Wonwoo wasn’t gradual at all.

If anything, falling in love with Wonwoo felt like a snowstorm in the middle of a sunny day. Your affection for him grew rapidly, and before you knew it, your mind was clouded with him and him only. It became hard to stay rational as if you were driving down a snow-filled road without any control over the steering wheel. Swerving into different lanes, your brakes malfunction, making it hard to bring your car to a full stop. Falling in love with Wonwoo was not gradual or easy.

When you met him on the first day of your junior year of high school, your sixteen-year-old brain couldn’t fully comprehend your crush on him. He was the shy, scrawny new kid in your class, and no one paid mind to him except you. But that didn’t stop you from liking him. Despite his interest in collecting pokémon cards and his crooked glasses that were too big for his face, you were in love.

You were like two peas in a pod that whole year, and the only time you and Wonwoo spent time apart was when he had to leave during summer break to visit family in Korea.

When he returned for your senior year, you could barely recognize him. Suddenly the nerdy Wonwoo you knew was gone. His glasses complimented his face, his hair was styled differently, and most of all, he got hot. A lot of your classmates must’ve seemed to agree because now your best friend and the man you’re in love with gained attention from people who didn��t even bat an eyelash at him last year.

It annoyed you to see all these people suddenly interested in him. You were angry that just because he grew a few inches and learned to do his hair didn’t mean he was that much different from how he was last year.

Even though Wonwoo was in a relationship, he still stayed true to your friendship. He still hung out with you, ate lunch with you, you even came over on weekends to have dinner with his family. Day by day, your love for him strengthened, and you ignored that his attention had been divided between you and his girlfriend at the time.

When their relationship hit three months, it seemed your friendship had come to an abrupt halt. He didn’t invite you for dinner as often, you two didn’t talk on the phone every other night. He started to invest more of his time into her until he decided she wasn’t worth his energy anymore. Then the calls would come, his contact name flashing across your phone screen to ask you for advice.

“I feel like I need to break up with Haein,” his deep voice flowed through your phone speaker. A sigh left his lips as he faced the truth.

Haein was Wonwoo’s first girlfriend. She was nice, almost too nice. Wonwoo definitely had a type for girls with a bubbly personality. Ones that were effortlessly beautiful, reminiscent of a freshly made porcelain doll. That was Haein to you, unblemished in every way possible. Everything that you weren’t.

You couldn’t bring yourself to hate her. She was too nice to hate, but your younger self was so angry at how much of Wonwoo's time she took up that you envied her. Seokmin once jokingly mentioned that you looked especially green when she was around, and you remember how quickly you checked your appearance on the nearest reflective surface because of what he had said in passing. You remember vividly how nervous his words made you, was it that obvious?

Wonwoo’s first time calling you about his breakup plans was a delightful surprise, and you were too in shock to sputter out a proper response.

“Oh. Why?” was all you could say, still stunned that after a week of no contact, this was the first thing he said.

“‘Dunno, I just don’t like her anymore,” he admitted effortlessly.

You didn’t know how to respond. Your heart was screaming at you to encourage him to break up with his girlfriend at the time, while your brain was telling you to think logically.

“Well, if that’s what you think is right,” you mumbled, trying to hide the fact that you felt a sense of relief at Wonwoo potentially being single again.

Others may have tried to rationalize with Wonwoo, but you didn’t care. You wanted your friendship with him to turn back to normal. Your adolescent brain ignored that it was wrong to encourage him, as long as he was fully yours again.

History repeated itself over and over, and the older you got, you learnt to not be so selfish with his attention. Mostly out of guilt for the person he was going to break up with, but also because you didn’t want Wonwoo to realize your true feelings.

Although being in love with Wonwoo was brutal, you constantly wished that things were different between you two, but they weren’t. He’s never seen you as more than a friend, and as your friendship with him progressed, you had begun to learn to mask your romantic feelings for platonic ones.

five.

By the time you entered university, you had mastered the art of pretending. As if your feelings for Wonwoo didn’t exist. You are quite meticulous in ensuring that he never realizes that you are profoundly in love with him. The mere thought of him finding out how you truly felt frightened you.

You’ve already envisioned countless scenarios on how it could go. The idea of being rejected by the one you love most. It would change everything about your friendship with him. The look of pity in his eyes, the apologies that would spill out of his mouth. You can't bear even the thought of rejection. Not from him.

Two voices are constantly at war inside your mind. Your brain, acting as the voice of reason, constantly reminds you that it’s better to preserve your friendship. To keep the dynamic you’ve always had with Wonwoo guarded where it could last, thrive. While your heart persuaded you with deluded, fake scenarios.

‘What if he likes you back?’

‘You never know until you try.’

‘Take the risk or lose the chance.’

What if.

Like a siren to a sailor, your heart sang with deep imagery. Filling your thoughts with illusions of you and Wonwoo finally together. But your mind doesn’t let you go without a fight. It knows that beyond the deep waters where your siren-voiced heart lies is nothing but a bottomless pit.

The possibilities are endless, and you’d rather stay safely grounded in your boat of rationality.

A notification brings you out of your thoughts. Although you already knew that it was Wonwoo, you scramble to pick up your phone. There’s excitement laced in your veins as you look down at the screen.

7:06 p.m. [wons <3]: be there in 5.

There was no reason for you to be so ecstatic but you couldn’t help it. He had already texted you prior, notifying you that he was leaving his place to come pick you up, and yet every time your phone buzzes, you still hope that it’s something completely different. But that was your heart talking; you knew that it wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary.

Everyone had planned to meet at Seokmin’s place today, just to have one last celebration before midterms began again. You had happily agreed, enthusiastic that you could spend more time with Wonwoo, although it wouldn’t be a one-on-one thing. You were more than elated to see him while also being able to hang out with the rest of your friends.

Throwing your phone back on the bed, you change into an outfit that is both cute and comfortable. There wasn’t a reason to dress up when the vibe at Seokmin’s was just going to be sitting around his living room, drinking cocktails and eating pizza.

Wonwoo texts you once more to let you know he’s outside, causing you to race down to meet him. A lump in your throat arises, as he comes into your field of vision, appreciating how breathtakingly handsome he is.

The chilled breeze brushes through the strands of his hair, glasses perched on his tall nose. He looked amazing, just like he always had, but you never get bored of admiring him. Even if it’s just from afar.

“Hi! Sorry if I kept you waiting,” your voice resounds into the night.

“It's never a problem if it’s you,” he chuckles as you dawdle over to the passenger side of his car.

Trying not to read too deep into his words, you snort at his cheesy line instead of giving a response. Watching Wonwoo move to the side as he opens the car door for you. His actions make you blush, and you know you’ll think about it for the rest of the night.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks, smiling at you.

The ride to Seokmin’s house is fairly quiet, the sounds of music filling the silence instead. Your thoughts are overflowing with scenarios once again, wondering how different the car ride would be if you and Wonwoo were in a relationship. His fingers would probably be laced with yours, or rubbing soothingly against your thigh while his other hand gripped the steering wheel. Planting kisses on your cheeks at every red light. It seemed like heaven on the other side. But you knew reality would crush your delusions soon enough.

…

The clock on Seokmin’s pale white wall is nearing midnight and you don’t want to be here anymore. Not when the only thing you could focus on was Wonwoo flirting with a girl whose name you didn’t catch. She’s Joshua’s childhood friend and he only brought her along because she’s visiting from out of town. Whoever she was, it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered to you was the fact that she was able to bring out Wonwoo’s deep laugh. The kind of laugh that only befalls upon your ears when he finds something genuinely funny.

The ugly swirl of jealousy sits in the pit of your stomach and you couldn't help but scoff at your wretched situation. It made you sick watching them, and you could throw up any minute now. At this point, you weren’t sure who to envy, Wonwoo or the girl he was flirting with. You find it unfair that he doesn’t realize how greatly he can impact your feelings.

Just a few hours ago, you were in utter bliss. Sitting in the front seat of his car, listening to the music softly playing on the ride to Seokmin’s apartment. Making stupid jokes and pointing out the random sights that you had seen while driving down the bustling city streets. You envy how easy it is for Wonwoo to make all those feelings of delight vanish. And he doesn’t even know. He doesn’t know what he’s doing to you, and that’s what hurts the most.

“You doing okay?” Seokmin comes up to you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, squeezing it affectionately.

“Huh? Oh. Yeah I’m okay,” you chuckle, but there’s nothing humorous about your laugh at all.

His eyes soften, he knows that you’re not okay. Seokmin always knew. After all these years, he can tell when you’re trying to save face. There’s a lump in your throat, and if you didn’t have a drink to sip on to distract you, you probably would’ve gone to the bathroom to cry.

“You wanna talk in my room?” he offers, and you’re grateful.

Seokmin knew he had to get you somewhere other than the living room. You were practically torturing yourself, sitting on the couch and watching Wonwoo talk to everyone but you.

Instead of agreeing vocally, you nod your head before standing up to follow Seokmin to his room. The door shuts softly, muffling the sounds of laughter and allowing your uneasiness to finally subside.

As you sit on Seokmin’s bed, you feel the tears starting to trickle down your cheeks. It feels pathetic, crying over something so trivial. Why does it have to be you who feels this way? Why can’t you just be a normal friend and see Wonwoo in a platonic light? The whole world could turn upside and he’d be the first person you search for.

Everything just seemed so unfair, how could you possibly be happy if your feelings for Wonwoo were constantly in the way of it all? It’s tiring, worrying about him, yearning for him. You could do so many other things with your time, and when you look toward the future, you know that you’ll regret how much of your life you wasted loving someone who doesn’t love you back.

“It’s okay, just let it out,” Seokmin whispers in your ear, embracing you in a tight hug.

Crying felt good. You rarely cry over your situation despite how upsetting it is. For the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to finally indulge in your sadness and let go of everything you were too afraid to say or feel.

“I know it sucks right now, but honestly, it might be time to get over him,” Seokmin continues to comfort you while trying to help you face the reality of your situation. “You’re so hurt, and it’s taking a toll on you. Please, I can’t bear to see you so sad.”

His words hit you hard because you know it's true. But all you can do is apologize. Saying sorry for feeling this way, even though it’s not your fault, you cannot control your feelings, you still apologize. To Seokmin, to your friends, but also yourself.

“I-I’m sorry,” you hiccup, tears staining Seokmin’s white shirt.

“Why are you sorry? You did nothing wrong,” he mutters, his large hand patting your head, trying to soothe your fit of emotions.

“Because, if I was normal, you wouldn’t have to worry about me, about why I’m always upset, you and the others, my feelings are burdening all of you,” you continue to weep softly in his arms, gripping onto his shoulders as his hands encircle your waist.

“Hey, look at me–” he grabs your face, gentle as a mouse, rubbing away the tears from your cheeks. “You are not a burden. We care, that’s why we worry, and I just want to be there for you.”

“Thank you, Seokmin. I’m so happy that I have someone like you in my life,” you pull him into a hug again, knocking the air out of his chest, but he’s still somehow able to hug you even tighter.

Seokmin is like your favourite childhood blanket, keeping you warm and away from everything that could possibly hurt you. He’s always willing to hear you rant about things that you know you could never tell Wonwoo.

“I’m so tired, I’m tired of feeling like this,” you admit to him.

Running his hands through your hair, he gives you a reassuring smile.

“Maybe it’s time to distance yourself from him a bit, you two have been glued to the hip for so long. Maybe that distance can help organize your feelings better,” he mutters, catching the stray tears that pool at your chin, and wiping them away for you.

“I want to feel better,” you agree with him, still trying to recover from how hard you were sobbing into his chest.

“I care about you, okay? We all do. Wonwoo cares about you, too, but there’s a point where you’ll have to be okay with whatever outcome happens if you decide to tell him how you feel. Or you just have to find a way to get over him,” he speaks softly, trying not to crush your heart with reality, but you know he’s right. “In the Future, you will thank yourself for making whatever decision you have to make, but trust me, holding all these feelings in won’t do you any good.” He ends his pep talk there, and you sigh, trying to process everything he said.

“Thank you, Minnie, I’m so thankful I have you,” you sniffled.

“And I you.”

…

Seokmin explained to Soonyoung and Jihoon that you needed to go home after your talk in his bedroom. They were more than happy to take you along with them before heading back to their place, not wanting to force you into a car with Wonwoo at the end of the night.

“Of course, it’s really no trouble at all,” Soonyoung reassures you after you had asked about a million times if it was okay to ride home with them.

The car ride is drastically different from the one you had taken on the way to Seokmin’s, Soonyoung being the number one reason why. He’s not the best at reading the room, although Jihoon is constantly telling him to shut up. He knows you are upset over something, but Soonyoung’s way of cheering you up is getting you to laugh. While Jihoon believed that you may want a more peaceful environment after everything that happened.

As Jihoon drove, Soonyoung sang along with the lyrics of the current song playing. Loud enough for anyone outside the car to hear him. You could tell he was a bit tipsy after the few beers he had earlier, but you didn’t mind the noise. Jihoon begged to differ.

“Soon, can you tone it down? Please. People are looking at us,” Jihoon grumbles, trying to focus on the road ahead.

“But you love it when I sing,” Soonyoung whines, and you can’t help but laugh.

“I do, but our friend has had a long night,” Jihoon counters.

Soonyoung turns to face you from the passenger seat. “If you want me to be quiet, I will.”

“No, it’s okay, I’m actually enjoying it, thank you very much,” you giggle, and that was all the confirmation he needed, going back to his antics.

Jihoon groans as Soonyoung practically breaks out into full song and dance, causing you to sing along with him. This distraction from all the conflicting thoughts gives you a refuge from the war inside your mind.

The whole way back to your place was filled with singing and laughter, allowing you to finally feel at ease for once. Albeit Jihoon pretended to act annoyed the whole time, you knew he secretly loved how Soonyoung tried to bring the mood back up to help you.

Once you got home, you thanked the two before bidding them farewell. Apprehension flowed throughout you, and you didn't want to be alone with your thoughts after being around someone as cheerful as Soonyoung. But you didn’t know where else to go or what else to do.

Laying in your bed, you think about how today went from beginning to end, and you’re scared of what will happen in the future. Sighing to yourself, you allow yourself to at least get some rest instead of staying up all night thinking about the possibilities of tomorrow. Turning your phone on "do not disturb," the stillness in your apartment lulls you to sleep.

1:09 a.m. [wons <3]: seokmin said u went home early? u ok?

ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?

chapter one.

Wonwoo’s ride home was sombre, yet desolate. Your absence from his passenger seat irked him. Street lights whisk by his vision in a blur, but he’s too lost in his thoughts as he drives on autopilot, wondering why you went home so early. You didn’t even say goodbye. It’s the first time you went home from Seokmin’s place without him.

By the time he got home, his curiosity had started to claw at him, but he didn’t want to be irrational and assume the worst. So he texted you, hoping that there would be an explanation awaiting him in the morning.

Not a single notification from you came that very next morning. No matter how many times his phone went off, no matter how many notifications popped up from his screen. None of them were you. Morning turned to afternoon, and afternoon slowly turned into night. Still nothing.

He feels dejected. Everything seemed to be going okay just last night. That was until you abruptly left without telling him you were going home. What changed? Why did it feel like there was a shift between you two?

Rejection is foreign to Wonwoo. Most times, it’s him that’s doing the rejecting. He was the one to always initiate the breakup and lose feelings first; every decision he made was made by him. He has no control over whether you’re going to text him back or not, and to put it simply, he can’t stand that feeling.

Wonwoo hates not being in control. Whether that be his future, his relationships, and especially his feelings. At least that’s what he forces himself to believe. That it’s not fair of you to ignore him when he’s worried about you, because he’s your best friend. You should answer him when he texts you. When he calls you, and especially when he shows up at your door, seeking your comfort. In his mind, that is what he believes the foundation of your friendship is. To comfort each other, just like it always has been.

Sure, maybe Wonwoo is entitled, perhaps he’s conceited and selfish, but he doesn’t care. Because in his mind, you’re his best friend. There was no way in hell that you were ignoring him. His ego doesn’t even consider it a possibility. You were busy, that’s it. That has to be it.

…

Less than forty-eight hours in, Wonwoo couldn’t stop himself from texting you once more. Nimble fingers practically itching to open your contact to update you about the most mundane things. Maybe if he pretended that this moment of silence was perfectly normal, then maybe you would eventually end up answering him.

12:36 p.m [wons <3]: class just finished. lunch at our usual place?

Nothing. Not even a thumb’s up reaction. Wonwoo had become antsy, guilt and slight annoyance gnawing at the pit of his stomach. Where the hell are you? What are you doing that’s so important that you couldn’t even open his message let alone read them?

1:27 p.m. [wons <3]: this random girl asked for my number after class lol. weird right? i didn’t give it to her though 😁

Cursing at himself, he regrets pressing the send button on that text. Double texting you is already out of the norm for him, but triple texting? He can’t believe how desperate he looks right now. He wishes he could bring himself to unsend it, but he just hopes it’ll be the text that finally gets you to respond.

2:10 p.m. [wons <3]: saw a bunny running thru the oval today u should’ve seen it! reminded me of u. [1 photo attachment]

Absolute radio silence from your end. Wonwoo is starting to think that you had him blocked, but his messages are still delivering. Unsure of what’s worse, you ignoring him or blocking his number, Wonwoo still tries his best to remain calm.

4:00 p.m. [wons <3]: im about to head home soon. r u riding w me today?

The sight of you getting into Seokmin’s car made Wonwoo scoff. Since when did you start getting rides home from Seokmin? And why was he the one opening the door for you? Buckling your seatbelt instead of his own? Wonwoo is completely dumbfounded at what he has witnessed.

4:30 p.m. [wons <3]: saw u get into seokmin’s car, lmk if u need a ride tmrw.

Seeing you laugh and smile while walking to the student parking lot with Seokmin, of all people, solidified the fact that you are actively ignoring his texts. And he just can’t stand the thought of it. How dare he be ignored? Especially by his best friend, the one person who had always responded to him, no matter the time or how busy you were, you always texted him back.

Wonwoo initially thought that even if the world ended, you would be there within arms reach, enough to hold you close, where he could keep you safe. You were predictable in that sense. But if the world decided to burst into flames, or swallow itself whole tomorrow, he’s unsure if you would be there right next to him by the time he woke up.

two, wonwoo’s summer before senior year.

The school year flew by with the speed of light. And before Wonwoo knew it, he was home back in Korea for the summer. The dreaded fifteen-hour plane ride over was excruciating. There was an ache in his lower back, and his knees felt like they were being struck by a hammer with every step he took. But at least the worst part was over.

Sixteen-year-old Wonwoo was quite naive, thinking that he’d be welcomed into his home country with loving arms. That hadn’t been the case at all, and for the two months that he spent in Changwon, he couldn’t help but count the days till he could come back home. Where you had been patiently waiting for him.

He despised being away from you, and he had yearned for you every moment he was gone. With you by his side, Wonwoo had finally understood the true meaning of solace, a peace of mind that couldn’t be replicated. Not even the fresh air that breezed through his fingers or the scent of the salty water misting its way onto the shore of his hometown could outweigh the feeling of tranquillity that he got when he was with you.

Every year that Wonwoo was dragged back to Korea by his parents was excruciating. Especially because he had a certain distaste for his relatives. Maybe it was disrespectful to loathe them the way he did, but he couldn’t care less. Their scathing comments would flow out of their mouths just to pierce daggers of judgement into his back. To insult Wonwoo was second nature to his aunts, and he couldn’t do much but sit back and listen.

Much to his dismay, his parents hadn’t even bothered to book an Airbnb for their stay, informing him and his brother that they would be staying with his aunt. He couldn’t stand his aunt Seo-Ah in particular, and he swore the feeling was mutual. Unsure of why he had to withstand her crude remarks in front of his family without much protest, he forced himself not to dish out rude rebuttals to everything she had to say.

There was a time when Wonwoo tried to reason with himself on why his aunt was filled with so much bitterness, but he gave up on that long ago. He was about to be seventeen now, and he couldn’t bring himself to empathize with the older lady anymore.

“Wonwoo! You’re all grown up now, and I can’t believe it,” Seo-Ah forced him into a bone-crushing hug as he tried his best not to push her off of him. She pulled back to take a closer look at him and he could already see the scrutinizing gleam in her eyes, “You know, you’re still so skinny for your age. Do your parents not feed you enough?”

Wonwoo wanted to scoff at her, but he kept a neutral expression.

“No they do, I don’t know maybe it’s my fast metabolism or something,” he refuted her claims. He couldn’t wait to get out of her sight.

“You know, maybe you should start going to the gym, get some muscle on you or something,” she patted his lanky arm and laughed that dreadful laugh. The ones that have no real humour behind it, just to cover up the obvious dig she took at his appearance.

“Yeah maybe,” he dismisses her to head into the house. Setting his luggage down to check whether or not you’ve texted him yet.

It was about five in the evening in Changwon, but he knew you wouldn’t be asleep. Faintly recalling how you were planning to stay up late every night to watch BuzzFeed unsolved videos, or until your mom yelled at you to go to bed.

[4:15 p.m. kst] [you: i stayed up all night watching buzzfeed unsolved] [you: im going crazy i keep getting paranoid to the point i’ve turned all my mirrors backwards] [you: hope ur flight was ok tho!!! 🫶]

He chuckled to himself, remembering your wide eyes and elaborate plan to sneak snacks into your room in the early hours of the morning behind your parents’ backs. Wonwoo missed you, and your stupid obsession with horror podcasts and YouTube shows. He missed the way your smile would shine so bright as you talked about all the haunted places the hosts would visit.

Wonwoo did not care for horror or anything scary, but if you were to ask him to stay up all night on Facetime binge-watching your little Buzzfeed videos, he would do so in a heartbeat.

Two days down, about another 89 to go, Wonwoo thought to himself as he looked through your messages with him. You had already spammed the chat mercilessly about your first two days of summer break, and your intricate mission to stay up without accidentally falling asleep in the middle of it all.

[6:00 p.m. kst] [1 photo attachment] [you: currently trying to sneak snacks into my room without my mom knowing] [you: u better not snitch 😾] [you: its so boring w out u here btw SO COME BACK SOON PLSS] [you: ok thats enuff…txt me when u land!]

Wonwoo really missed you.

…

One more week and Wonwoo would finally get to see you again. The ability to talk to you in person, hug you, and spend time with you gave him something to look forward to, and thankfully, summer break went by fast because of it.

He had spent most of his time in Korea eating at local food spots, going to the gym, and trying a lot of new things with his brother, Seongho, giving them time to bond before he went off to University again. Wonwoo had missed his brother dearly during the school year, but at least they were able to pass the time together during summer break.

It was initially his brother’s convincing that got him to go to the gym for the very first time. The idea of going to a place with a lot of sweaty, adrenaline-filled people kind of frightened him, but the more he went, the more he started to like what he saw in the mirror. Wonwoo’s shoulders had broadened, and his lanky arms finally started to show signs of muscles. He was satisfied in knowing that all of his hard work, and Seongho’s encouragement had finally paid off.

Seongho told him he looked a lot more carefree now that he wasn’t so worried about his appearance all the time. And it was then that Wonwoo realized that he wasn’t all that bad-looking, after all.

Wonwoo had begun to take pride in his vanity. He searched for different ways to style his hair, bought glasses that better suited his face shape, and, most of all, did his best to act more confidently. The sudden change made him wonder how you would react. He had been anticipating your reaction, wanting to see the look on your face once he returned home.

“You got it. Just one more rep, and we can switch,” Seongho encouraged Wonwoo as he tried to push the bar up from his chest.

His muscles were aching in the most addictive and satisfying way. He almost wished he had started working out earlier because only good things seemed to have come ever since he stepped foot into the gym.

“Okay! You’re done, that was good,” his older brother high-fived him, a proud smile dancing along his lips.

“Thanks, but my arms feel like jelly now,” he huffed a chuckle before gulping down the contents of his water bottle.

Seongho chuckled along with him before setting himself down on the workout bench. His actions faltered, and he slowly observed the mirror in front of him, raising his eyebrows in amusement.

“Uh, don’t look now, but I think that girl is staring at you,” Seongho tilted his head in the girl’s direction and Wonwoo couldn’t be more confused.

“Huh? Are you sure it's me they’re looking at and not you?”

“I’m serious! You should go talk to her,” Seongho grinned, pushing his younger brother in the direction of the girl who was supposedly eyeing Wonwoo.

“Hyung!” Wonwoo calls out but it falls on deaf ears as his older brother begins his bench presses.

Wonwoo turns towards the girl in the most awkward way humanly possible. He was completely dumbfounded and not sure what to do in the situation he’d been put in. The girl who was staring at him waved flirtatiously, and before he could even think about his next move, his feet had begun to move on their own accord.

“Hi, I saw you working out over there, are you new here?” she asked him, batting her eyelashes.

“Uhm, I guess? I’m only here for the summer though,” he spoke with apprehension, because what the hell was he even supposed to say?

“Oh! Me too. My name is Haein, by the way.” Haein’s smile reached her eyes as she giggled, and her hand extended to shake Wonwoo’s.

Wonwoo’s actions were practically robotic, rubbing his sweaty palms on his gym shorts before taking her hand in his. He remembers thinking about how soft her hands were, and how pretty she looked with her hair tied up in a messy bun.

“I’m Wonwoo.”

“Wonwoo, hmm, that’s a cute name. But I think I would like it more in my contacts,” she flirted shamelessly, her fingers squeezing his sweaty bicep.

Wonwoo’s mind short-circuited, and he took out his phone from his pocket so fast it almost slipped out of his grasp. Haein found it endearing though, and happily gave him her phone number.

They talked for the rest of Wonwoo's time at the gym and promised to hang out more before they both went home at the end of the summer.

To put it simply, Wonwoo was on cloud nine for the first time since he’s been here. Suddenly his aunt Seo-Ah’s words weren’t so hurtful, his confidence had skyrocketed, plus he had a beautiful girl to talk to for the rest of his vacation.

By the end of summer, Wonwoo started to miss you less and less. Even though he still saw you as his best friend, he began to find peace in other things, like the fresh air that breezed through his fingers or the scent of the salty water misting its way onto the shore of his hometown. Finally, for the first time in his life, Wonwoo felt serene, and that made him a little more whole than he was when he first landed in Changwon.

…

The after-effects of Wonwoo’s surprisingly pleasant summer vacation hadn’t worn off just yet. The gift of Haein appearing in his life seemed to just keep on giving. Not only did she live overseas, she had told him that she was actually from the same city as him. It was a little hard to believe at first as if he was the main character in a cheesy rom-com, but he couldn’t find it in him to complain. Haein made him feel wanted, excited, and cared for.

Wonwoo wasn’t entirely devoid of those feelings, especially with you as his best friend, but it was different coming from Haein. Every time he saw her, he felt like he was going to throw up, in a good way of course, but she also boosted his confidence. He liked that she made him feel like he was a man worth depending on.

Haein was his first real relationship, and although he was still young, he could see himself being with her for a long time.

…

Quite like the seasons, Wonwoo’s feelings for Haein changed drastically by the time school was back in session. Although he and Haein lived in the same city, there was a lot more than just distance that separated them.

Six months into their relationship, Wonwoo began to doubt himself. He was less eager to meet her or even text her. He could only blame himself for how things turned out with Haein. Despite his adolescence, he believed he loved her; he just got tired and disinterested.

On a subconscious level, Wonwoo could not stop comparing Haein to you, and as fucked up as that was, it was completely out of his control. Why didn’t Haein ever want to talk about what Wonwoo was interested in? Why did she seem bored out of her mind when he would delve into his theories about his favourite shows? Or anything about himself and what he liked. As though she didn’t see him for the Wonwoo he was, the personality he had behind his looks.

“It all makes sense now! Eren had Zeke fooled!” Wonwoo couldn’t contain his excitement about the newest episode, but Haein didn’t seem interested in hearing her boyfriend geek out.

“I'm sorry babe, but I gave up after the first episode,” Haein sighed into the phone, and if Wonwoo could guess, she was probably picking at her cuticles out of boredom. “I just didn’t get anything that was happening.”

“Wait, really?” He was a little offended, how could she not be obsessing over the beautiful intricacies of his favourite anime? Wonwoo didn’t understand.

He didn’t understand because when he introduced you to the show, you texted him the next day saying you were caught up to where he had left off. It amazed Wonwoo how fast you were at binge-watching shows, especially because he had told you about it on a weekday.

You came into school the morning after with dark circles under your eyes, but even with that tired look on your face, you ran up to him with so much eagerness while thanking him for urging you to watch his favourite show. You two were obsessed and never missed out on watching the weekly episodes together. It had become you and Wonwoo’s thing, and even though he wanted Haein to join in on the fun, he found himself more entertained by your theories than by talking on the phone with his girlfriend.

It dawned on him that he wished that Haein acted a little more like you. And it made him feel guilty. He knew he should’ve loved Haein no matter her interests, but he wanted someone who could understand his nerdy side. And that was only something that you were able to do.

“Honestly, I’m really tired, I’m gonna go to bed now okay?” Haein’s voice brought Wonwoo out of his thoughts.

“Oh okay. Night.” He said before ending the call so quickly that Haein’s ‘I love you’ was cut off mid-sentence.

Haein probably had thought he had forgotten, but Wonwoo just didn’t want to say those words if he didn’t mean it. He had grown annoyed, and a little bored of practically talking to a wall all night.

Comparable to the light switching off in his bedroom, he decided to do the same thing with Haein. He pushed his guilt aside and decided it was probably best to leave Haein and Changwon in the past. The memories of his last week of summer with her would become something he would look back on in the future and smile. But he didn’t want to pretend any longer, it would’ve just hurt her more if he stayed, he couldn’t help that he fell out of love with her. The least he could do was not lead her on.

Wonwoo’s relationship with Haein was merely a catalyst and a peek into what the rest of his relationships were going to look like in adulthood. He was never able to comprehend why he couldn’t keep feelings for anyone after the six-month mark, and it almost frustrated him. Something was missing in every single relationship he had been in, and he wasn’t sure what that was. But he was determined to find an answer.

three, present time.

The answer was you. But of course, Wonwoo didn’t know that.

“Are you gonna keep checking your phone every five minutes or are you gonna do your homework?” Mingyu lectures him.

The two were studying in the library before their stats midterm, but Wonwoo’s mind couldn’t help but wonder. He hasn’t been acting like himself since the night of Seokmin’s party.

“Oh, right.” Wonwoo clears his throat, putting his phone face down on the table.

Wonwoo drags his palms against his face, trying to not let sleep overtake him. It is not his fault that every time he tries to close his eyes, your face comes into his mind. The memory of you smiling with Seokmin made his insides twist. He hasn’t seen you smile that hard in a while, and he almost misses how your eyes crinkle whenever you do so. You were practically haunting him and he had no idea how to make it stop.

“Not to be rude, but you’ve been looking like shit lately. What’s wrong?” Mingyu questions him with furrowed eyebrows.

Wonwoo rolls his eyes at his friend, he didn’t have to be insulted to know how crappy he looked, but Mingyu seemed to only be telling the truth. Wonwoo did look and feel like shit. With the amount of near run-ins he’s had with you and Seokmin on campus, he’s begun to sense that it’s some sort of karma. Whatever that karma may be for, he fully believes that it’s completely unwarranted.

Forcing a hand through his dark locks, Wonwoo contemplates whether or not he should just go up to you in person and demand answers. It’s uncommon for the two of you to fight, or ignore each other for that matter. But he can’t help but presume that if he were to confront you about your silence, there would be no rightful explanation. Or at least not the explanation that he wants from you.

Every time he even fathoms the thought of barging into your apartment and asking what the hell is wrong, there’s a lingering nervousness that he wishes would dissipate, leading him to lay awake with his thoughts for hours on end.

“Thanks for that, asshole, I just haven’t been getting much sleep,” Wonwoo huffs.

“Okay, obviously. You practically look like a zombie with the way you’ve been moping around. What has been keeping you up?” Mingyu presses.

It’s not every day that Wonwoo indulges in his problems with Mingyu, that’s what you were for. However, he can’t talk about his problems about you, to you, so he’ll have to settle for the next best thing.

“Y/N has been ignoring me since the night we all hung out at Seokmin’s,” Wonwoo confesses, and it feels nice.

For the past two weeks, he’s been keeping his frustrations to himself, and now that he can freely speak about it lifts the weight off his chest.

Mingyu snorts, obviously finding his friend’s situation humorous. Wonwoo sneers at Mingyu’s reaction, clearly not finding anything about you ignoring him funny.

“Serves you right, you’re a dick to her, man.” Mingyu shrugs without any remorse to spare.

“What?” Wonwoo sputters, since when was he a dick to you? His best friend?

“How blind are you? You have glasses and everything but you can’t see how mean you are to her sometimes? Really?” Mingyu almost sounds offended on your behalf as he stares at Wonwoo with an incredulous expression.

“I am not a dick to her. She would definitely tell me if I’ve ever said something to hurt her feelings,” Wonwoo defends himself.

Attempting to rack his brain of all your moments together, he can’t seem to pick out a memory where he has been especially rude to you. Of course, you two teased each other from time to time, but he wasn’t a complete asshole. He knew when to not take a joke too far or purposely try to upset you.

“You’re a dumbass.” Mingyu lets out a frustrated sigh which only aggravates Wonwoo even more.

“Could you stop with the insults for one second and just tell me what’s going on?”

Shutting his laptop, Mingyu’s posture becomes serious, a deviation from his usual carefree and smiley self. He cares about you just as much as the next person, so if he had to reality-check his friend, then so be it.

“She cares about you a lot. And you treat her like shit. It’s not about what you’ve said to her, it’s your actions. Ever since we were in high school all you’ve done is use her to solve your problems. I can’t even blame her for wanting to cut you off. I don’t know what happened at Seokmin’s place for her to realize that, but you don’t deserve her,” Mingyu confesses.

Soaking up each word that left Mingyu’s mouth, Wonwoo sat in a pool of perplexity. There are so many questions flying through his mind, yet he can’t seem to utter a single word. Is that really how everyone perceives his friendship with you?

Wonwoo is going to throw up. There's a tightness in his chest and a burning sensation behind his eyes. He wants nothing more than to hear all of this coming from you, not Mingyu. The frustration of wanting to talk to you about this is taking a toll on him, he doesn’t want to believe that Mingyu is telling the truth.

It’s not fair. It’s not fair that Mingyu gets to know these things about you while Wonwoo is just left in the dark. Did he make you feel like you couldn’t tell him anything?

Ever since Wonwoo met you, it was evident that he can be quite merciless when it comes to his relationships, but that’s romantic, not platonic. Wonwoo was convinced that he treated you equally because that’s how it's supposed to be.

Hearing Mingyu talk about his friendship with you in that way caused Wonwoo’s whole world to crash down. And the only thing he can do in moments like these is seek out your comfort, except he can’t anymore. Not only has he been a terrible friend without realizing it, but he’s pushed you so far to the brink that you’d rather ignore him than attempt to hash out what’s been troubling you.

“I-I didn’t know that's how you guys saw our friendship,” Wonwoo falters, clearly taken aback, and still attempting to fully comprehend what’s been said to him.

“It’s not that we see your friendship with her that way, it is that way. If I was her, I would’ve cut you off a long time ago.”

“Well, thanks, Gyu. I feel like this could’ve been said before she started ignoring me,” Wonwoo huffs, trying to come up with the words to explain his side.

“It was kinda obvious, man,” Mingyu shrugs.

“Was it, though? If I had known, I would’ve at least tried to be better,” Wonwoo attests, tired of feeling like the bad guy.

“How about you just talk to her about it instead of sulking,” Mingyu suggests.

Desperation hijacked his rational thinking, making Mingyu’s advice sound plausible. Talking to you seemed out of the equation since you started ignoring him; he feared you wouldn’t even answer if he tried to call or show up at your door. But he can’t go on like this, especially now that he knows there is more to your friendship than he had initially thought.

four.

For the first time in Wonwoo’s life, he’s unsure about what decision to make. Although he wants nothing more than to knock on your door, his feet stop him from even entering your building. So instead of mucking up the courage to talk to you face to face, he waits inside his car. Without a solid plan, he continues to sit there, biding his time.

Never has he acted so pathetic in his life, not even for the sake of his relationships. He knows that nothing will come from sitting there, just watching, but before he can even comprehend what he is doing and where he is going, he is already across the street from your place.

Gripping on the leather of his steering wheel, he just couldn’t help himself. He can’t help but watch your silhouette from your window. The curtains are drawn, but there are glimpses of you walking around. He’s such a fucking loser. What type of person has Wonwoo become that he resorts to stalking you from the front of your building?

After all that Mingyu has enlightened him on, Wonwoo’s attitude has become less angry and more apologetic. There was a line he pondered crossing, and it practically mocked him. Stepping over that line would mean getting answers from you, demanding to be brought into the light that you had snuffed out from under him. But his uncertainty of the outcome outweighed his decision to do so.

That same apologetic attitude died a fiery death after watching Seokmin leave your apartment. There you were in all your glory, the tiny sleep set clinging onto your body as the wind forced its way into the door of your building. Then there was Seokmin, grinning like a fucking idiot as he waved goodbye.

“Shit!” Wonwoo grunts as he ducks down, not wanting to blow his cover. His car was visible from where the two of you stood, hoping that you weren’t able to recognize it in the dead of night.

Boring holes into the back of Seokmin’s head, Wonwoo's guilt diminished, floating away with the cold night breeze. You were fine, and he should’ve known that the root of all his problems started with the name Lee Seokmin.

The shape of your figure had faded into the confines of your building. Yet Wonwoo can still make out your body through the glass window of your door. He can’t help but gawk at your skimpy attire, your ass practically on display for the whole world to see. The deathly twist in his gut intensifies the more he ponders on what may have happened during Seokmin’s visit. Wonwoo desperately wants to stop thinking about the possibilities, especially because your lack of clothing only fueled that inferno inside his mind.

He’s never been more annoyed at Seokmin in his entire life, not until today.

Wonwoo allowed himself to ignore the signs, but only for a moment. But this, this he can’t ignore. Not after what he witnessed. He allowed himself to stay ignorant when it came to your silence because he had been so naive to think that it was your decision. Now that he knows Seokmin had somehow weaselled his way closer to you, Wonwoo had to make sure this plan of his didn’t go on any longer.

…

There is a heat inside Wonwoo that, for some reason, he cannot extinguish. The curve and outlines of your body burn in the back of his retinas. No matter how many times he’s tried to put himself to sleep, the image of you is clear as day in his mind. Sparks crawl their way up his spine, and he desperately wishes that it would just go away.

There’s a point where Wonwoo gave up on trying to sleep altogether. Thoughts of you, your body, and the oh-so-painful reminder that you’re still ignoring him. How can he sleep with everything going on? What made things worse, was the fact that the one person he wanted to call most likely wouldn’t pick up.

Wonwoo wasn’t the type of person to let his emotions get the better of him, but this abrupt rift that has been torn between you two has him acting out in ways he’s never acted before.

The urge to grab his phone, to text you, to give it one more try, grows perpetually every second he lies awake.

One more time. One more attempt. What does he have to lose?

Wonwoo stands up, pacing around nonsensically, trying to think of what to say. For all he knows, you may not even answer, but there is the urge to hear your voice one more time and see your name pop up on his screen. Wonwoo yearns for you so much so that it supersedes any part of common sense he has left in him.

[12:52 a.m.] [wons <3: darling. can we talk? please?] [not delivered]

The silence within the four walls of Wonwoo’s bedroom is harrowing. Out of all the outcomes he had considered before he texted you, the outcome of you blocking him was not even on the list.

Before jumping to some sort of conclusion, Wonwoo’s finger hovers over the call button with skepticism. If you don’t pick up, then that’s it. That would be the definitive answer to all his qualms.

“The number you have called is not available, please leave a message at the tone,” an automated voice affirmed his suspicions.

The notification is gut-wrenching, but he can’t just sit here and pretend like it’s okay for you to do this. To decide without any of his input. What kind of friend were you to just drop him like he was nothing but an old toy? How unfair did you have to be to not even try to talk it out before you completely cut him off?

five.

Pacing outside the door of your apartment, Wonwoo hasn’t been this nervous in years. He has always been so sure of himself, but it’s almost two in the morning and he’s still continuing to weigh his options.

It’s either you’ll let him in, and talk for the first time in almost two weeks, or you’ll kick him out before he can step a foot past the door. Desperately, he desires that it be the first option. Losing you over this would break him, and not in the way you would expect.

He’s already lost his mind. This shouldn’t be the way you two break it off. It won’t be the way you two break it off. Not if Wonwoo has a say in the situation.

Sweaty palms and white knuckles rasp against the dark oak that barricades himself from you. There’s nothing that Wonwoo wants more than to see your face glowing in front of him. And before he can even get a word out to you, the door whips open. The person on the other side is someone Wonwoo is starting to get really sick of seeing.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Both Wonwoo and Seokmin speak in unison.

Scoffing, Wonwoo rolls his eyes at his so-called friend, “I think I should be asking you that. You clearly don’t live here.”

“Minnie? Is someone at the door?” your voice is as sweet as a glass of lemonade on a hot summer’s day.

Minnie. Wonwoo almost threw up in his mouth.

Minnie. The nickname is parallel to nails scraping against a chalkboard.

“Yeah! Your neighbour just needed to borrow something,” Seokmin goads through a sickly sweet smile, eyes never leaving Wonwoo’s. Without as much as a word of mockery, Seokmin’s expression had said more than his words ever could have.

Despite his soft demeanour, Wonwoo knew there was something vile hiding under Seokmin’s thick skin.

A rebuttal to his deception is on the tip of Wonwoo’s tongue, but your melodic voice echoes throughout your home once more. The refute dies within his throat, and he hopes you will come out and see what your “neighbour” is looking for.

“Okay!” is the only response you give out. The reverberation of the water hitting the shower tiles causes Wonwoo’s stomach to practically lurch out his abdomen.

“Whatever you’re doing, she’s not gonna fall for it,” Wonwoo jeered, staring at Seokmin with looks that should kill, if he could.

Seokmin chuckles bitterly, “She already has.”

There was no need for Wonwoo to put two and two together; he already knew what Seokmin was alluding to. It left a dreadful taste in his mouth.

Puffing out his chest, Wonwoo takes a step closer towards the man he once considered a close friend. Sizing him up, he knew that Seokmin was the reason for the wedge in your friendship. And Wonwoo had no problem treating him as such.

“You’re fucking sick, you know that?” Wonwoo practically spits in his face.

“I could say the same thing for you,” Seokmin mutters, unperturbed, “I didn’t have to do anything you know? Just a little push and she fell into my lap, voluntarily.”

“I’m not just going to let you get away with something like this. She’s my best friend.”

“I think the correct tense is was. She was your best friend,” Seokmin taunted.

He was wrong about Seokmin. Even though he had known about his friend's crush on you for years, Wonwoo didn’t expect the lengths Seokmin would go to in order to cut him out of the picture.

Before a breath could even escape his lips, Seokmin cuts him off, “I think it’s time for you to leave. She doesn’t want to see you.”

The last few words that he heard come out of Seokmin’s mouth nearly fell on deaf ears. It was practically a whisper, laced with enough malice to almost kill the fighting spirit inside him. Almost.

“By the way, don’t text her anymore. I’ve made sure she won’t get any more notifications from you.”

The realization had struck Wonwoo hard. He knew you well enough that you wouldn’t just block him so carelessly, without a word no less. Yet he was no match for Seokmin, not after the fact that you allowed him into your home, your heart, so willingly.

…

Lying in wait, Wonwoo observes the door of your building once more. The distinct difference this time was that Wonwoo had no guilt left in him to care. Whether you see him or his car across the street didn’t matter to him anymore. The only thing Wonwoo wanted to make sure of was whether or not Seokmin would be leaving your place.

After what had felt like hours, he watched the same scene from last night unfold in front of him once more. The abhorrent hug goodbye that is exchanged between you and Seokmin is nothing but a cue for Wonwoo to make his move.

With as much grace as a bull in a china shop, he slams the car door shut, not even bothering to lock it before he stalks his way to your apartment. The anticipation caused the hairs on his neck to stand straight up. As he presses the button to your floor, he can only deliberate whether any of Seokmin’s words hold any truth behind them.

Certainly not, right? Not after all the years you spent together. His friendship with you couldn’t end on this vague note. You were always the sentimental type, holding onto trinkets, memories, and even people for far too long. It should be the same with Wonwoo; he believed it would be the same.

If there is a chance, you should allow him to talk and voice his opinion. No, Wonwoo will voice his opinion; there has never been a time when you haven’t let him speak.

As the elevator ascends to your floor, anxiety begins to weigh down his shoulders. The feeling is atypical and Wonwoo hates how his throat constricts. He hates how his clothes feel too tight and stuffy despite his casual attire. Is this how it feels? To actually care about someone and whether their decisions might affect him later on?

Footsteps echo within the hallway, and with each step he takes, the illusion steadily becomes more vivid. Your front door almost looks like it’ll take a mile before Wonwoo can reach it, rather than a few feet away.

After what felt like years, Wonwoo stands before the entrance of your home once more. The foreboding tension won’t vanish and it’s starting to make him itch. Without another thought, Wonwoo forces himself to knock on the door knowing it’ll be you who answers this time, not Seokmin.

“Minnie? Did you leave something agai—,” Abrupt silence engulfs your words, leaving nothing but an echo to resonate within the expanse of your long hallway.

“Wonwoo…” your voice falters, like you genuinely didn’t expect to see him, let alone have him standing outside your door.

“Did you fuck him?” Wonwoo cuts to the chase, not leaving any room for you to ask questions.

His blunt words caused a frown to grace your soft pink lips, and Wonwoo almost felt bad for being so frank. But he doesn’t have time to beg for your forgiveness, the anger surmounting to nothing but harsh words and a push past you and into your home.

“Did you fuck him? Yes or no?” Wonwoo continues to press you for answers, agitated that you have the audacity to stand there dumbfounded. As if you don’t know who he's talking about. “C’mon, you know who I’m talking about,” he can almost laugh at the situation in front of him.

How is it that all the rage he built up for Seokmin is being taken out on you? Wonwoo had no clue, but the thought of his friend-now-enemy defiling you, tasting you, while Wonwoo desperately waited for your call caused him to direct all his anger to you. Perhaps it’s undeserving to do so, but Wonwoo’s frustration spoke for him before his brain could even register what he was saying.

“The past two weeks you’ve been ignoring me, spending your time with him, do you know where his true intentions lie?” Wonwoo continues to rant with unpreparedness.

He didn’t plan what he was going to say because there was a moment of doubt, he had expected you to open the door just to slam it right back in his face. The look you gave him almost brought him to his knees. Your doe-eyed expression could’ve broken down every wall he’s built if only he hadn’t let his anger proceed him.

Wonwoo should’ve cried, to plead for you to take him back. To go back to the way things were. He knew he fucked up the moment he uttered a single word. The hurt flashed across your face as though Wonwoo turned your world upside down.

“Seokmin doesn’t care about you, and I’ll tell you that now because you need to hear it. He just wants to fuck you! And you just gave that to him?” He can’t stop talking.

“Stop. Just stop fucking talking Wonwoo. Do you hear yourself right now?” You cut off his rant. “Out of all people, who gave you the right to tell me who I can and cannot fuck? Especially knowing the type of person that you are. It doesn’t matter if Seokmin and I had sex. What matters is the fact that you think you can barge in here at two-thirty in the morning interrogating me over a situation that doesn’t involve you.”

“No. I’m just trying to help you. Seokmin isn’t the person that you think he is,” Wonwoo seethes, annoyed at how you’re twisting his words.

The bile in his throat rose further, as you stood before him like he had just kicked your dog. Wonwoo’s extremely aware of the hole he had dug for himself, but he couldn’t stop. His urge to self-sabotage overrides his common sense.

“That is exactly what we’re not going to do right now. Seokmin has been a better friend to me than you have been in all the years we’ve known each other. I have been by your side for years, bending over backwards. I was at your beck and call and I’m tired. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and warn myself about you. I fell in love with my best friend, and the worst part was that you didn’t care enough to notice.

“I gave up so much for you, Wonwoo. I lost myself trying to please you. But I give up. I was drowning in my love for you. It consumed every part of me to the point I couldn’t even come up for air. And I’m just sick of it. I know there’s a part of you that cares about me too, but it’ll never be equal. I’ll always love you more than you love me, and I don’t want to feel this way anymore.”

“What hurts me the most, is that you thought it would be okay to accuse me of things I didn’t even do. I did not sleep with Seokmin, but why is that what you care about? He respects me and just wants to be there for me. And that’s a lot more than I could ever say about you.”

Your voice was terrifyingly calm, with neither a lilt nor a hiccup during your speech. The heft of your declaration crashed back down onto Wonwoo, leaving him at a loss for words.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing to come out of his mouth after a long pause.

“Please. It’s late, you should go home,” you sigh, but Wonwoo couldn’t move an inch. He refused.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats himself, looking into your eyes, searching for the look of endearment you had always given him.

“Wonwoo…” there it is. Your voice had broken for the first time since Wonwoo stepped foot in the place.

“Please. I’m so fucking sorry. For getting angry, for doubting you, for not realizing how badly you were hurting,” Wonwoo resorted to pleading.

A look of desperation mixed with agony was the only thing you could exchange for his apologies.

The stare of grief you had given him caused a shooting pain to swell throughout his limbs. The one that begins at his fingertips, creeping up to tug at the strings that held his heart together. He wanted this nightmare to end, and he was sure you did too.

“It’s time for you to go. I’m tired, Wonwoo.” A single tear slips and trickles down your cheek.

He regrets not wiping it away for you at that moment. It was the first time he had been so unsure of his actions. So, instead, he walked out of your apartment, leaving nothing but the lingering scent of his cologne and a piece of his heart.

Wonwoo's world was crumbling underneath him, and there was only one person he refused to let go of. He should’ve known.

He should’ve known that you were in front of him this whole damn time.

end of act one.

⊹ a/n: if you liked this story pls dont be afraid to let me know thru a reblog, comment or ask! also a big ty to my beshies forever @vapidlynn and @bunnyjjongie who i've texted multiple times in the wee hours of the morning for reassurance abt this thing hehe.

#jeon wonwoo #seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #svthub #Hiraya-M #thediamondlifenetwork #seventeen fic #wonwoo x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #svt fic #svt smut #svt fanfic #wonwoo #seventeen scenarios #seventeen angst #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo seventeen #svt imagines

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scoops-aboy86 · 3 months ago

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Music teacher Eddie and student Steve.

Like, someone told Steve that marching band is easy credits, and he’s athletic. His parents made him take piano and clarinet lessons as a kid. Clarinet is a pretty easy instrument to march with; not too heavy, doesn’t have to hold it at a crazy straight angle like flutes or most of the brass instruments. He’s not a great musician or anything, but it doesn’t hurt his feelings if he ends up with 3rd or 4th part. The halftime shows are fun and he was never really into playing football so it’s not like he’s missing out on anything; this way, he still gets to watch the games. Sure, the trade off is having to sit in stupid concert band for the second half of the year, but only half; any other elective would be for the full haul. And it definitely doesn’t hurt that the new band director his senior year, Mr. Munson, is the youngest teacher on staff and brimming with infectious energy. The kind of guy you can tell used to be stick thin before his teenage metabolism kicked the bucket, and now he’s got kind of a belly and a sweet tooth that everyone knows about. A lot of the band girls have a huge crush on him, so he gets a lot of apples and also a lot of baked goods left on his desk, and he lets students call him by his first name, and he’s always down to soak up flattery—with a grain of salt. Steve has never once seen him flirt back; his best friend, Robin in the trumpet section, can confirm.

It’s not until accompanying Robin on her first venture into the gay bar in the next or two town over (with fake IDs, obviously) that Steve figures out why. Robin is absorbed in talking to a pretty redhead, and Steve has just bought himself a beer when someone bumps into him hard enough that he drops it.

“Shit, sorry about that!” says Mr. Munson. And usually, at school, he sticks to black slacks and plain shirts, but here? Form-fitting jeans that are more rip than black denim and well-worn band shirts that were probably bigger on him years ago, but now are on the tighter side. Hair loose instead of tied back, and he’s wearing eyeliner.

Steve, who can’t stop staring, has never really seen what all the girls do in the guy before, but now he gets it. And so can Mr. Munson. Eddie.

The double take when he recognizes Steve as a student is pretty priceless, and Steve can’t help messing with him, smirking a little while saying, “So this is what you’re doing instead of grading our music theory tests.”

And, well. Steve is eighteen. Eddie is in his early twenties. What’s the big deal if he asks a hot older man to dance instead of taking him up on that replacement beer? It’s not like it’ll be for more than once dance. Not like the crowded dance floor jostles them closer together, Eddie flailing a little as he stumbles forward and Steve catches him, faces close and accidentally brushing. Not like they’ll kiss for real a few electric-charged seconds later, or end up in a more out of the way corner making out. And no way would that turn into Eddie turning into a flustered mess any time he makes eye contact with Steve at school, or a series of serupticiously passed notes, or Steve making sure they “accidentally” run into each other more often off campus.

Under no circumstances will they kiss again, or get carried away making out against a dark wall somewhere and both need a change of pants, or go on a tentative date where Eddie doesn’t let Steve do any underage drinking but does let him drive Eddie home and come inside for a coffee. Absolutely zero chance of falling into bed together and each of them confessing to real feelings that only Robin (who constantly makes cradle robbing jokes but is so supportive of Steve that he’d kiss her if it wouldn’t gross both of them out, it’d be like kissing a sibling) knows about until after graduation.

… Right?

Permanent tag list:

@hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @irishvampireboy @oatmilk-vampire

@wheneverfeasible @hamiltonswiftie @grtwdsmwhr @yesdangerpls

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #bit of an age gap and i guess it’s kind of a modern au #i ran out of steam at the end there a little bit but you get the idea #scoops words

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daisynik7 · 10 months ago

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Make Me Sweat

Pairing: Aoi Todo x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Word Count: ~2.5k

cw: written with a curvy reader in mind, canon-divergent (post-Shibuya but a happy one), all characters are 18+, explicit language, smut – cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, spit play, PIV sex (cowgirl position, mating press), breeding kink, praise kink, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, baby, pretty girl, good girl), creampie

Summary: With the start of the new year, you make it one of your resolutions to become more active. You begin at your apartment's fitness center, where you run into your muscle head, loud-mouth next-door neighbor, Aoi Todo. He offers his gratuitous advice, annoying you at first. But when he suggests a particular kind of workout, it piques your interest enough that you can't refuse.

Author’s Note: I used metric units (kg) to describe the weights. Also, I am no expert in lifting so please take all of this with a grain of salt LOL. I just know that canonically, these characters are fucking STRONG. I stopped with the tag list on this one bc technically this was a bonus fic and I wasn't sure if anyone wanted to be tagged in these. With that, please enjoy some shameless smut about our favorite JJK himbo! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

part 6 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series

When you said you wanted to start exercising more, you weren’t expecting this: being bounced up and down your next-door neighbor’s impressively huge cock. Yet, here you are, getting pounded with your ass slapping lewdly on his thighs. His big hands dig into the sides of your belly, his lips on the skin of your neck, voice gruff and husky. “Told you, didn’t I?”

Let’s rewind to a few hours earlier.

You haven’t been prioritizing yourself lately; your obligations during the day drain all the energy from you and your bed is always so enticing for a nap. When the new year approaches, you make it one of your resolutions to be more active. The gym in your apartment complex is finally open after being renovated the past three months and now, there’s really no excuses when the opportunity is just five floors below you. Your forego your usual nap and suit up in your favorite workout clothes, heading down the elevator to the fitness center.

Luckily, it isn’t crowded; the only other people inside are Aoi Todo, your neighbor, and his pink-haired buddy, Yuji. They’re both at the weights section, Yuji doing squats with the barbell while Todo spots him, yelling at him encouragingly. “Come on, brother. Hold it, hold it! You got this!”

Yuji grunts, holding the deadlift for as long as possible, eventually dropping it to the floor with a loud thud. Todo claps emphatically, beaming at him. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

You smile to yourself, amused at Todo’s contagious enthusiasm. When he notices you, he gives you a nod, which you return, slightly embarrassed for being caught watching.

Have you mentioned yet how fucking ripped he is? Today, he wears a loose tank, arm holes cut low to show off his extraordinary physique. Arms bulging with muscles, an incredibly large chest, a well-defined eight-pack. He’s built like a Spartan warrior, ready for battle, destined for victory. It’s impossible to ignore a body like his, even more impossible to ignore his eccentric attitude, which gets on your nerves when you have to listen to his noisy demeanor on the opposite side of the wall.

The cardio section is on the other side of room, so you make your way to one of the treadmills, setting the level to a walking pace for a quick warm-up. Before you put your headphones in to listen to music, you eavesdrop of their conversation, observing them from your peripheral.

“Good shit, brother,” Todo says, massaging his shoulders affectionately.

Yuji scratches his head, grinning. “Still got work to do to match my PR. After Shibuya, my strength hasn’t been the same.”

“You’re still the strongest fucker I know. Besides me, of course,” Todo adds, chuckling. “Spot me before you go.”

They replace the already notable weights with what you suspect are heavier ones. Yuji whistles through his teeth. “300. You’re losing your touch, don’t you think?” he teases, nudging him in the ribs.

Todo digs into a container of powdered chalk, coating his fingers with it. “I’m taking it easy today. Don’t want to over-exert myself in case something exciting happens later.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He grabs on to the barbell, smirking. “I don’t know yet. We’ll see.” Maybe it’s your imagination, but you can almost swear that his eyes meet yours for a split second in the reflection of the mirror.

You continue to observe as Todo easily deadlifts 300 kg, as if it weighs nothing to him, repeating this ten times without breaking a sweat.

Yuji laughs, helping him rerack. “That’s crazy.”

Todo pats his back. “You’ll get there soon, brother. Once you’re fully recovered, you’ll be lifting more than me, I’ll make sure of that.” His unwavering support is actually endearing. Sure, he can be obnoxious, but this side of him is charming.

Unfortunately, this sentiment doesn’t last long. Once Yuji leaves, Todo decides to choose the treadmill right beside you, purposefully neglecting the surrounding unoccupied cardio machines. You’re still at a walking pace, eyeing him suspiciously as he stands there, blatantly watching you with a cocky grin. “Did you enjoy the show?”

Avoiding his gaze, staring at the console in front of you, you mutter, “Excuse me, but I’m trying to focus here.”

“Focus on what? Walking?” he scoffs, leaning on the handrail nearest to you. “You’re not going to get far if you keep going at a snail’s pace.”

You roll your eyes, finally looking at him. “So what do you suggest, Oh-Wise-One?”

It’s meant to be sarcastic, but of course, he thinks you’re genuinely asking. “You’ve got to alternate between high intensity and low intensity. Sprint for thirty seconds, then walk for a minute to cool off. Then repeat. Simple as that.”

As much as you appreciate the gratuitous advice, you’re already familiar with high intensity interval training. You’re just nervous to actually do it, not confident in your running abilities. “I’m not a good runner,” you admit.

“I’m sure that’s not true. Come on, show me what you got.” He crosses his arms over his pecs, waiting.

Deciding it’s better to relent to him rather than argue, you brace yourself, upping the speed so that you’re doing an easy jog.

“You can do better than that!” he hollers, reaching for the controls to increase the level, making the track move faster and faster. You’re sprinting full speed now, lasting about thirty seconds before you swat him away, tugging at the emergency shut off cord to stop it.

You catch your breath, glaring at him, sweat starting to bead on your forehead. "What the fuck, are you trying to kill me?!"

He’s unfazed by your outburst and oblivious to the asshole move he made. “Don’t be so dramatic. You did great. You have really nice form.”

You don’t let his compliments dissuade you from being angry at him. “You can’t just do that without any warning. I’m still getting used to all this.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “I won’t do that again.” He watches you take long sips from your water bottle, scanning your figure up and down. A coy smirk spreads across his face. "You know, if running ain't your thing, there are other workouts we can try that might suit you better."

You continue to drink, gradually regaining your composure. "Like what?"

He leans in close to you, breath hot on your ear. "Sex."

You choke on your water, using your towel to wipe the mess. Ready to give him an earful, he hops off the track, walking towards the exit. "If you want to work up a real sweat, you know where to find me. I promise to make it worth your while.”

And with that, he's gone, leaving you speechless. And intrigued.

~~~

After dinner, you take a long shower, Todo’s unconventional suggestion replaying continuously in your mind. You’re almost certain it’s a ridiculous joke, though the more you analyze it, the less ridiculous it seems. In fact, by the time you’re drying off in front of the mirror, checking your reflection carefully, you’re seriously considering it. You’re not particularly tired from earlier, so maybe you have room for one more workout. And hey, if the offer still stands, why not take it?

You slide into a different pair of leggings, one that shows off your curves, and slip on a t-shirt, fulling prepared to exercise. In your running shoes, you walk the few steps next door and knock twice. When he doesn’t answer within the first ten seconds, panic sets in and you’re tempted to turn on your heel to retreat. Before you can, the door swings open and you’re greeted by Todo’s bare bust. He smirks, not at all surprised to see you standing in front of him. “Hey.”

Swallowing the thick saliva gathering on your tongue, you let out a meek, “Hello.” His enormous frame towers over you and you can’t help but salivate at the sight of him. You always assumed he’d be the type of guy to walk around shirtless in his apartment. Not that you’re complaining.

He beckons you inside, closing and locking the door shut behind him. “Can’t stop thinking about it, huh?”

You roll your eyes at him, cracking a smile simultaneously. “Well, it’d be rude to turn down such a generous offer, right?”

He lets out a small laugh, stepping towards you, gripping at your hips to pull you into him. “I knew you were a smart girl.”

You’ve severely underestimated how much bigger he is than you until this moment, as you peer up at him eagerly. “Todo.”

He bows his head down, mouth grazing your ear. “Aoi.”

“Aoi,” you repeat, breath hitching.

“Good girl,” he praises, making you shudder with anticipation. “Tell me exactly what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

You paw at his chest, admiring his sculpted muscles, pressing your fingers into them without even making a dent. “I want you to give me that workout you promised me.”

“Yeah?” he croons, his noticeable erection strained in his sweatpants. “You want this fat fucking cock, don’t you?”

He’s as vulgar as you imagined he’d be and it only spurs you on. You link your arms around his neck, on your tippy-toes to meet him for a kiss. Instead, he hoists you up, holding you with his hands below your ass, your legs wrapped around his waist. His boner throbs as you buck your hips on him, desperate for friction on your aching clit. “You feel it, don’t you?” he purrs, grinding you against him. “That’s all for you.”

He carries you into the bedroom, kissing you sloppily with his massive tongue invading your mouth. When he can’t take it anymore, he tosses you onto the mattress, stripping his clothes off swiftly, you doing the same. He crawls on top of you, ogling your naked body, a lustful gleam in his expression. “You’re so fucking hot.”

“You’re so fucking big,” you blurt out in response, not knowing a better word to describe him. Because everywhere you look, Aoi Todo is big. Big biceps, a tremendous torso, a huge fucking cock ready to fill you the fuck up. You spread your legs open for him, practically begging for him to fuck you.

“Look at this perfect pussy,” he coos, face inching closer to your cunt. He hocks a thick wad of spit directly onto your clit, smearing it with his tongue. “So wet for me.”

You squirm beneath him, unable to control yourself. “Fuck, Aoi,” you swear, toes already curling from the sensation.

“I’m going to make you come first. Make this pussy extra creamy for my dick. Is that okay, sweetheart?” He massages circles into your clit with his thumb, looking up at you from between your thighs.

“Yes,” you whine, trembling with arousal.

“Good girl,” he says again, and you realize how fucking sexy it is when he praises you like this. “Can I finger you too?”

“Oh god, yes,” you moan, growing impatient, needy for whatever he’s willing to offer you.

With his lips latched to your clit, he teases your entrance with his middle finger, slowly sliding deeper until he bottoms out. He adds another digit, pumping inside you while he sucks on your bud, tongue swirling around it. You rock your hips against his face, greedy for more. Todo hums, encouraging you, the vibrations spurring you on until it’s too much. You come for him after a few more strokes, gushing all over his face. You reach down to grab his hair, trying to pry him off you, but he’s obviously way stronger and more resilient. “One more,” he muffles, chin shiny with your slick, his tongue flicking your clit. “For me.” He flashes you a cocky smirk that makes him even more impossible to deny.

You throw your head back into the pillows, staring up at the ceiling, hazy-eyed from the pleasure. The squelch of his fingers in and out of your wet cunt is obscene, combined with the shameless moans pouring out of you. After your second climax, or maybe it’s the third (you’ve lost count), he finally eases off you, slurping his digits clean to swallow up your juices. “You’re doing so good for me, pretty girl.” He strokes his cock in his fist, tapping the glistening head on your swollen clit. “It’s going to feel fucking amazing.”

You hum, the only response you can muster in this fucked-out state.

“How do you want it, sweetie?” He lifts you off the bed, having you straddle his lap. “You want to ride me?”

You nod, resting your head on his shoulder, yearning for anything. “Yes.”

“Fuck yeah,” he growls, slapping your ass before guiding his cock into your slippery cunt. You gasp, astonished by the extraordinary girth of him filling you up to the hilt. “You’re swallowing me up.” He spreads your cheeks apart, squeezing your ass in his grip. “That’s my girl.”

You gaze at him, pressing your forehead to his, sticky with sweat. “Fuck me,” you whimper, kissing him fiercely, completely enraptured by him.

He does, bouncing you on his lap, hitting your sweet spot over and over until you’re unraveling for him once more. “Told you, didn’t I? Told you I’d make it worth your while.”

Whatever semblance of rationale you had is gone. All you can think of is Todo’s manhandling you like a fucking rag doll, pliable and yielding to his every touch. Before you reconsider it, you spout the words, “Breed me,” wishing nothing more but to have his hot load leaking out of your cunt.

As if he wasn’t already feral enough, he most certainly is now, planting his feet on the bed to fuck up into you faster and harder. “That’s what you really want? You want my fucking seed in you? Oh fuck. I’ll give it to you, then. I’ll give it to you so fucking good.”

It happens quickly; you’re on your back again, folded nearly in half, knees to your chest, Todo fucking you in a mating press like his goddamn life depends on it. The mattress creaks noisily with each savage thrust he delivers. Sweat drips from his face onto yours as you kiss each other passionately, his massive body surrounding you as he floods your womb with his cum. “Fuck, milk it all out of me baby. That’s it. That’s my girl.”

You stay like this for a moment, allowing yourselves to catch you breaths and cool down. This really was a workout. Todo takes his time, reluctantly pulling out and watching his cum ooze out of you.

“I can’t believe we did that,” you sigh, hiding your face in the pillow.

He gets comfortable beside you, giving you a smooch on the forehead. “Honestly, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

“Really?” You look at him, cupping his cheek gently, wiping the perspiration off his brow with your thumb.

He smiles, nuzzling into your palm. “Yeah.”

“Then maybe we should make this a regular thing,” you suggest as you snuggle into his arms.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” he agrees, embracing you.

And just like that, you have yourself a new and very, very personal trainer.

#todo aoi #todo x reader #todo jjk #todo smut #todo aoi x reader #todo aoi smut #aoi todo #aoi todo x reader #aoi todo smut #aoi todo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #to all the boys who live next door #todo x you

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animeyanderelover · 5 months ago

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Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional thoughts, clinginess, stalking, manipulation, male reader

Tags: @jamayah @chxxz @leveyani @cynniical @shenryu-sama

Zoldyck family with Gojo-like older twin of Illumi

Zeno Zoldyck

🐲You'd think that as one of the oldest members of the Zoldyck family, Zeno would act his role as the strict grandfather and drill into you every lesson you need to know as the future head of the family. Instead he has taken the complete opposite role and has settled into being the chill granddad for it is his son's role to lecture you in everything you need to know, not his. Most of the time he spends with you is more comparable to him just hanging out with you, unless he notices that you are slacking off in which case he will show you why despite his age he is still a feared assassin in the world. There are constant jokes thrown back and forth between you two as both of you try to see who can deliver verbally the bigger blow whilst both of you take it without a single grain of salt. Even during missions both of you have together, you tend to see who has the better one-liners all whilst being completely indifferent to the screaming and terrified targets. Silva has voiced his disdain as he thinks that Zeno is being too soft yet Zeno has always stood up. He's a proud grandfather so just let him do what he wants to do with his favorite grandchild. After all your very first word ever was "grandpa", how could he not love you?

Silva Zoldyck

🐺For all the respect he holds for his own father, the old man is giving him a headache with the way he treats you, his heir. Silva claims most of your time, either training you or teaching you everything you need to know as the next head of the clan. You are his entire pride and he has high expectations for you which he is confident you will live up to. There is especially much time poured into helping you honing your special Nen-abilities of the Infinity and your Six Eyes, skills which he is proud that you have gotten as it only further solidifies you as one of the strongest members of the family. He's aware of the fact that you favor your grandfather though and he knows that Zeno often sneaks away with you because he wants to spend time with you and the GIF I've used is probably the exact same expression he gives the two of you when he catches you. Is he perhaps a tad bit jealous that you favor your grandfather over your own dad? Perhaps, he is rather possessive after all but he would never admit that though his suffocating aura is already indicator enough of his feelings. He's most likely never gotten fully over it that your first word wasn't "dada" and Zeno has never let him forget it either.

Kikyo Zoldyck

🔺Kikyo has a terrible streak of jealousy and that isn't made better by the fact that Silva and Zeno steal so much of your time for themselves. As a result she is all the more smothering and clingy the moment you are by yourself as she seems to wait for you to be alone like a starved predator and pounces on you the moment neither of the two men are around. This woman is always complimenting you for everything. For your talents, your strength, your caring personality, your looks and whatever else you can think of. There is a tinge of bittersweet melancholy though as she sometimes mourns the time where you were chubby and small and came always stumbling towards her with a happy look on your face. Her little bird has left the nest far too quickly and has grown so independent.... Your kind and caring personality can be easily a trigger of her jealousy though whenever you pay attention to one of your siblings or can't spend time with her since you have promised someone else already that you'd be with them. She always makes a huge clamour whenever the topic of potential partners is involved as no one in her eyes could be worthy of her beautiful baby boy.

Illumi Zoldyck

🤎For as long as Illumi can remember, you two have always been together. You complete him, he completes you. After all both of you have been sharing the same womb, have shared everything since the very moment the two of you were conceived. It is this mindset that has always pushed Illumi to be surprisingly clingy, your silent shadow that has been trailing behind you ever since the two of you could crawl. From all of his siblings he has always thought that he deserves you the most, perhaps even more than the entirety of the Zoldyck family as the both of you share a special connection as twins. He's casually thrown needles into people's heads when they so much as dared to question whether the two of you are really twins as your appearances are like night and day, silently enraged whenever someone would do as much as doubt just how close the two of you are. He's the one seeking you out even quicker than Kikyo when neither Silva nor Zeno are in sight and likes to whisk you somewhere where he can have the time with you he thinks he deserves more than anyone else. He's tried to scare some of his other siblings away whenever he thought that they were stealing you away from him.

Milluki Zoldyck

💻Going back to Illumi bullying his siblings whenever they also try to get your time, poor Milluki is the one who gets the most of it, though Milluki has used this fact often to play the victim card to try to coax you into spending more time with him. Activities with Milluki contain munching on snacks whilst playing some video games or watching some Anime and with passing years this guy has installed an entire security system to make sure that no one disturbs him when he has you, his older brother with him in the room. The ony time where he has gotten too scared and let someone in his room is when either Zeno or Silva knock on his door as he knows fully well that they'll break it if he doesn't open it within 3 seconds. Whenever he has managed to make you promise to spend an evening with you, he buys tons of your favorite snacks and prepares your favorite movies, games and series so that everything is to your liking and so that he can hopefully become your favorite sibling. He's even made a phone specifically for you and gifted it to you on your birthday. There are a lot of special apps and features included on the phone, one of them being a very secretive tracker which allows him to always know your location.

Killua Zoldyck

🪀Killua has been clinging to you since he was a toddler and that hasn't changed much over the years. Seemingly adapting to the strategies of Zeno, Killua is always sneaky when he seeks you out and beckons you to follow him and spend time with him. He's probably one of the few who is willing to share his time with you together with some of his other siblings which is pretty much only Alluka. You've always indulged him though, knowing that there was a certain pressure on him due to his white hair and blue eyes as well. Killua has taken some pride in his appearance though, mainly because people not associated with his family always instantly acknowledged him as your younger brother whilst such recognition wasn't as granted with people like Illumi or Milluki which causes him to act somewhat smug in such given situations. Both of you have a sweet tooth and whenever one of you is on a mission, it has become a sacred ritual that the person buys something sweet before heading home again to share it with the other. The poor boy was heartbroken when you couldn't come with him when he took his Hunter Exam, though you strongly spoke up for him when people like Kikyo were hesitant to let him go.

Alluka Zoldyck

💝Whereas almost the entire rest of the family has always shunned Alluka, Killua and you were the only ones willingly spending time with her and playing with her. As a result Alluka as well as Nanika genuinely view the two of you as the only people both of them need and really love and Nanika especially grants the both of you free wishes. Okay, maybe not always free. At times there are demands for you such as wanting a piggyback from you, wanting a kiss on the cheek or wanting to be lifted up and spun around by you. Whenever you hear such words coming out of Alluka's mouth you instantly know that both of them want your affection and attention in that moment and you have never been able to deny them their requests, even if you have never used the wishes you were granted in return for something sinister. The room Alluka is kept in is filled with plushies and prettily designed because you demanded it to be that way and whenever Alluka or Nanika want the walls to be painted a different colour or desire a new plushie, you always take it upon yourself to fulfill them their wish and Killua gives you a helping hand for the majority of the time.

Kalluto Zoldyck

🏮Kallluto has arguably got the worst luck as he is the youngest member of the family and often is brushed over by all of his other siblings who deem that he should wait for his turn. The poor boy is a professional stalker even from a young age as he has spend countless hours watching other members of the family having fun with you all whilst he is deprived of it. He plays the even bigger victim card than Milluki for such reasons in the very moment you call out to him and spend time with him. Whenever you two walk around, he either clings to the sleeves of your clothes or even manages to hold your hand, his head constantly tilted so that he can look at you with sparkling eyes. The insecurities he sometimes feels as a result of being somewhat overlooked as the entire household revolves around you is something he learns to use effectively as an advantage when he wants to steal your attention away from someone else because he knows you'll crouch down and ask him if everything is alright the moment he starts fidgeting around with his fingers and makes himself small. As you are the person he idolises and looks up to, he ends up adapting your likes and dislikes all to feel closer to you.

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fallow-hollow · 7 months ago

Note

loved your kabru fic!! would you be willing to write a 5+1 chilchuck/reader fic? along the lines of “5 times they nearly kissed, and 1 time post-canon where they actually did”?

count to six

…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader

…tags! pining, almost kisses, arguments but they make up, extremely minor manga spoilers, chilchuck being bad with feelings, pre-relationship and post-relationship, most of these take place pre-canon

…word count! 3697

…notes! i think receiving a chilchuck request is just a rite of passage for a dunmeshi blog at this point. i hope the old man likers are pleased by this one!

one

You’d always admired Chilchuck, really. And not just in a professional sense, mind you.

Of course you respected his skills and his professionalism, but after working with him for some time, you could clearly see that there was so much more about him that continued to catch your eye. Those little slips in his usual attitude were what fascinated you, keeping you waiting for the next snippet of his personality you could get a glimpse of.

As a man of great pride in his profession, accepting help or being “coddled” weren’t exactly on Chilchuck’s to-do list. If he was interrupted or goodness forbid challenged while he was trying to do his job, he’d become even crabbier than those literal treasure crabs monsters he hated so much. Nonetheless, you cared for him and your party, so you offered to lend a hand where you felt it was appropriate.

Maybe it was just you, but the half-foot almost seemed more receptive of your intervention than he usually was with others. Perhaps it was because you did your best to be unobtrusive but firm in your offers, cementing yourself not as someone looking down on him, but a teammate who understood the importance of cooperation.

While your professional relationship was an enjoyable one, it was nice to see the man let loose every now and again. Around and after mealtimes he’d become more talkative, especially if he’d had some booze to wash down his helping of whatever was available that night. This particular evening, you’d had a particularly nice stir fry with the grains you’d bought and even a bit of salt-cured meat and some dried legumes that kept extremely well. Even if your meals were sometimes a hodgepodge of whatever would be cheap or long-lasting, it filled you up, and you were grateful for that.

The rest of the party members had just stood up to go and wash their dishes and utensils, and you were about to rise as well before stealing a quick glance at the half-foot next to you and immediately blurting out,

“Oh, you’ve got something.”

Chilchuck could only raise one of his eyebrows, not quite understanding what you meant from your wording. “Something?” he parroted.

“On your face,” you would quickly clarify, leading to spending several seconds watching him try to get it, making both amusement and slight frustration bubble up within you.

In fact, you were so concentrated on wiping off the smeared food with your sleeve that you didn’t even notice the sound of his squeak — yes, his squeak — when you leaned forward to get a closer look. In hindsight, perhaps you’d miscalculated the amount of space between you, because your faces were practically touching, despite you not realizing it at the time. In your concentration, your companion even noticed the tip of your tongue sticking out of your mouth in concentration. It wasn’t something he’d intended to fixate on, but in the moment it seemed like it was all he could do while he waited for you to be done. After all, it moved suddenly, you two might accidentally…..

“Alright, got it.” You pulled away so quickly that he hardly had time to comprehend the motion before your grinning face was already visible, albeit more distant now. Only after the fact would you realize that you had most certainly invaded his personal space without asking, though it felt too late to really apologize for it properly without making things awkward.

What both you and him didn’t notice, however, was the way his ears tinged pink at the proximity between the two of you.

two

With the embarrassment of the previous incident still fresh in your mind, the second offense certainly didn’t fly over your head this time.

Though, with all fairness, it wasn’t like it was something that could be helped. Rather than simple ignorance of personal space, this was a total accident.

In order to progress into the deeper floors of the dungeon, it was only natural that any party would eventually have to deal with some traps getting in their way. Your party in particular was currently being led by your expert, that being Chilchuck, through a plain, narrow hallway that was purportedly rigged with various traps and projectiles.

Both the walls and floor were made of what appeared to be a completely uniform stone construction, but with his keen senses and knowledge of dungeons, Chilchuck was able to deduce a pattern of which stones were safe to step on, the rest being triggers for various dangerous mechanisms.

Everyone was following behind Chilchuck in pretty much single file. He would traverse the safe path, then you would copy his steps, so on and so forth down the line. Usually, this method worked perfectly for these sorts of puzzles, as long as nobody moved too early or had a misstep. Unfortunately for you in particular, a misstep is exactly what you made.

When trying to land gracefully on the ball of your foot, the weight shifted, forcing you to roll onto your ankle with a pained sound. Instinctually, you tried to put your weight back into your other foot and staggered, hardly even comprehending the way you felt the ground beneath you sink ever so slightly.

All you really registered at first was the sound of somebody shouting, not to mention the feeling of your body being tugged forward with a roughness that stemmed not from malice, but from desperation. Someone was tugging on your shirt, so much so that you immediately fell onto your knees and proceeded to slide across the floor for a short distance as well. If you didn’t have something covering your knees, you’re sure that would have hurt like hell.

The pain was just on the cusp of excruciating, making you want to reach down and hold your injured foot, but not before you noticed the warmth of a body directly in front of you, close enough to wrap both arms around.

Chilchuck still had a grasp on your shirt, breathing heavily after what was most certainly a terrifying moment for him. It’s strange, really — he always insisted that he was only here to guide you, not bail you out, but in moments like these, the sight of a party member in harm’s way always seemed to seep through his stoic exterior and inflict him with sheer panic.

You almost wanted to smile at the thought, finding it almost soothing, but you figured it would seem pretty odd considering you’d freshly injured yourself and you were also far too close to your coworker for comfort.

A free hand laid itself on top of Chilchuck’s, still shaky. The man subsequently withdrew his hand, shocked at the unprompted touch despite literally having grabbed you moments before. That was…. different, he attempted to reason to himself.

Some voices sounded from behind the both of you after you withdrew from one another to catch your breath.

“Are you alright?” came a soft voice that you instantly recognized as Falin. “If I could, I’d heal you right now, but I really can’t reach you with these trapped tiles all around. I hope it’s okay that we have to wait until we clear the traps.”

“Not like we have much of a choice, so I’m fine.” You listened to your own voice bounce off the walls, noting how wary you sounded. Outside of your field of vision, the half-foot also winced. You weren’t in great shape, sure, but it really could have been worse…. he thought that maybe telling himself that would make him feel less guilty about the state you were in, but for some strange reason, the feeling just wouldn’t go down. Almost like an especially bitter tasting liquor.

Toshiro — or Shuro, as most of the party tended to call him — was the next in line behind you, and luckily well equipped to carry you the rest of the way. It was a good thing, some might even say a stroke of luck that you’d been positioned in front of him instead of, say, Marcille, but Chilchuck couldn’t help but follow you with his eyes. Seeing you be carried by the man somehow only made him feel more on edge, instead of at ease like he naturally should have. That bitter taste again…

Despite your injury, you felt surprisingly alert, and your eyes continued to dart around, assessing your surroundings now that you didn’t have to focus so intensely on the floor. You saw an arrow lodged into a gap between two of the stones in the wall, probably freshly fired when you triggered that trap. If you hadn’t been pulled away in time, you might have gotten seriously injured or even died.

By the time your gaze landed back on Chilchuck, he was already turning around, but you could’ve sworn that he was looking at you in the split second before he turned his back on you.

The thought that maybe you captivate him even half as much as he captivates you lets you close your eyes with a smile on your face.

three

Ever since that incident in the hallway, you’d started to suspect that Chilchuck was avoiding you.

It wasn’t anything offensive or egregious, but you could sense him becoming even more withdrawn than usual. You two weren’t exactly the chummiest of people with one another in the first place, but lately he’d been acknowledging you less and less, not responding to smart remarks or offers to help him like he usually did.

You knew that he was still noticing you, judging by the slight turn of his head towards the sound of your voice and the occasional clenching of his jaw. Clearly, something was on his mind that he didn’t feel like sharing. Fairly typical, though you couldn’t help but miss that thin sliver of himself he let others see. With you, he was open just enough to at least let you get your foot in the door, and you didn’t want to lose that.

So, determined to get to the bottom of your companion’s heightened defensiveness, you were able to catch him alone when he’d volunteered to be on night watch. With everyone else asleep, you’d finally be able to talk to him without the concern of being overheard.

The half-foot immediately noticed your presence, you’re sure of that. Of course, you were still quiet as to not wake anyone up, it was more so that no matter how quiet you could be, absolutely nothing would slip past his keen senses. Detecting threats and things of note in the dungeon was his job, after all.

No time was wasted in cutting to the chase, certainly.

“Are you avoiding me?”

You couldn’t catch a glimpse of Chilchuck’s face from where you stood, but the way he slowly shifted from one foot to another suggested he was deliberating his response. There was also also a light tapping sound that rang through the space between you, and after a minute of darting your eyes around you realized that he had his arms crossed and was tapping his index finger against his forearm.

The thing you couldn’t notice, of course, was the way his eyes were blown wide with the fear of a man who had absolutely no idea what to say. It’s not like he was ever any good at talking about these things. That’s why he thought it better to just avoid the issue altogether!

Clearly, he should’ve known better. You had other plans for him, just like you always do. Most of those plans usually ended up making him somehow feel like a total fool, even if he was just trying to keep it professional. So why? Why did he respond in earnest instead of shooing you away?

“It’s just sort of a habit, I guess. I try to avoid forming personal biases, especially ones based around personal relationships.” Once those words were finally pushed up and out of his throat, the man at least felt brave enough go turn around and face you, scratching the back of his neck now. “It’s pretty much the most common cause of issues within and between parties, so it’s something I’ve come to be wary of over the years.”

His words caused something to click in your head, and you couldn’t help but grin at him despite the circumstances.

“Are you essentially saying I’m your favorite?”

Perhaps that wasn’t the best thing to say in response, but you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it, what with how the man’s face scrunched up in both embarrassment and frustration. Maybe it was just an effect of the dim lighting, but he seemed a bit red as well.

“Now’s not the time to act smug, you know that’s not my point.” The hand that was previously behind his neck shifted to point at you accusingly, but it didn’t quite feel sincere. There was something about the way it wavered in midair that made you feel certain that he wasn’t truly angry. “I’m just saying that I prefer to regulate the group environment than just go around making merry without a second thought!”

Dark pupils followed your form, moving up to stand next to him now. “I understand what you mean, but there is a lot of value in making merry, you know? Or even moments like this, for example.”

Chilchuck felt so confused at those words that he dropped his irritated expression entirely. What could possibly be valuable about something so frustrating as his own biases? It’s not like his feelings had any tangible value like a gold coin or a precious jewel. Love was nice, sure, but that alone couldn’t put food on the table.

Sensing his confusion, you could only continue. “Maybe you only view it from a professional lens, but that doesn’t mean it can’t make sense from that standpoint, you know? Your coworkers like to know you. Playing favorites really isn’t an issue when you’re not out boss or anything, I’d think. You’re our equal. And I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but it’s hard to confidently stand on equal ground with somebody who’s so closed off. Makes it hard to trust.”

Trust?

Wasn’t trust in his skills enough? He was already an extremely skilled individual, what reason would most people have…. not to trust him….

Ah.

It felt so shameful to just look at the ground as if he was being scolded. What else could he do, though? It felt like the mechanism of a trap with a tentacle wedged in the crevices, keeping it from moving altogether. Your words were that obstruction, stopping the inner workings of his mind in its tracks.

“Could you look at me, Chilchuck?”

Total bewilderment did nothing to prevent the half-food from turning to meet your face, level with his own. One of your hands hovered over his cheek, never quite touching. In a similar fashion, his fingers ghosted over your wrist.

“Even just taking a moment to look at someone, take in each other’s presence…. it’s a start. Not open, but not closed, either. You can just leave that door open a crack. It shows people that you trust them with not only your time, but yourself.”

His eyes were utterly transfixed on the movements of your lips.

You were right there, you were so close. A perfect chance served on a silver platter. Even so…

“…Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” The moment Chilchuck’s hand departed from your wrist, you withdrew your own hand, backing off into the distance the two of you previously had. He turned to stand shoulder to shoulder with you now, not quite facing you, but not quite facing away, either. By no means did the man want to shut you out, but he couldn’t bring himself to open up just yet.

The brief silence was interrupted by a quick remark. “You better mean that, because I’m not opposed to cornering you like this again.”

Chilchuck snorted at your words. “Fine, fine, I heard you. Never let me catch a break, do you?”

No, not just yet.

four

It had hardly been two days since your talk, and the man was already admiring you while you slept like some kind of freak.

Lord, what were you doing to him?

He just couldn’t sleep, that’s what he said to himself as his eyes remained fixed on your face. In hindsight, he almost regrets letting you put your sleeping bag next to his. If you hadn’t, he wouldn’t have such an easy way to stare at you instead of sleeping like he was supposed to.

In the end, though, he supposed it was his fault. He had a harder time saying no to you, and he hated it.

More than that, he hated how vulnerable you were in this moment. So close to him, yet so at ease. Did you really trust him like you talked about? In truth, Chilchuck himself wasn’t sure if you should. Did you really know just how depraved and selfish he actually was?

I mean, if he really wanted to, he could do something horrible and you wouldn’t even know. Take advantage of this state, and do whatever he wanted.

He bet he could even get close enough to…

The half-foot turned over.

Not tonight.

five

Just after the party lost Falin, as well as Toshiro and Namari leaving as a result, Chilchuck asked to talk with you.

“You shouldn’t go looking for her. Especially not with us.”

You weren’t sure whether you were angry or just disappointed. Did he really not understand?

“I’ve already made up my mind, Chilchuck. You already know how I feel.” This response only seemed to further provoke your companion. With nobody else around to hear, he had no problem raising his voice at you.

“Oh, I know perfectly well!” When he pointed at you, his hand didn’t waver, trained perfectly on your form. “I know that you’re absolutely insane if you think this is in any way a good idea.”

Frustration started to overtake your face, and in turn you shouted back, “I don’t know why you always feel like caring about others and being insane is the same thing! It isn’t!”

“Don’t assume how I feel!” As you both shouted back and forth, you both slowly inched closer to one another, until eventually you were standing toe to toe. The pressure eventually got so intense that you could only collapse to your knees and plead,

“Then just tell me. Tell me, please. All I want is to know.”

Well, that was a quick way to make him feel like the biggest asshole on earth. You on your knees, asking him so simply for something that couldn’t be bought or sold. Asking for him.

“I…”

I can’t, he wanted to say. He tried to force out the words, but he nearly choked, as if he was about to cry. Holding back that reaction, he tried his best to do what he knew you needed.

…He leveled with you and put a hand on your shoulder. It really was so hard to say no to you.

“Not yet, okay? I promise I will once this is all over, just… not yet. Wait for me, will you at least do that much?”

After a few moments of catching your own breath, you were able to look at his face again, your own now being blank and receptive. “Outside of the dungeon, you mean?”

He nodded. Your expression shifted to become more unsure, but only slightly.

“And how do I know you’ll come back?”

Perhaps just to give you a taste of your own medicine, Chilchuck grinned softly, deciding to throw your own words back in your face like you’d done to him.

“I thought you knew that you were always my favorite.”

All that and more, really. One day, he’d be able to tell you all about it.

six - after the dungeon

You’d often catch your lover slumped over at the counter of the shop after it closed. One of your favorite things to do was come up behind him and put your hands on his shoulders. Sometimes he’d be too lost in his thoughts to notice you and be startled by your sudden appearance. Tonight, however, he merely sighed and relaxed into your touch.

“Hard day today?” When he groaned in response, you had to suppress a giggle. That man really could be such a drama queen sometimes.

“How could you tell?” His question, unlike yours, was laced with sarcasm. Eventually, he lifted up his head and twisted his torso to look at you. “Had a fair amount of house calls today. Kahka Brud is a nice place to live and all, but I’d rather not be running around it at my age.”

“Yes, yes, you poor thing.”

“Hey!” His exclamation in conjunction with his pout sent you into a fit of hushed laughter.

Wiping a tear from your eye, you continued, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just teasing. One of these days you really ought to hire someone else to split the workload. When Mei’s in the area, we can certainly ask you about it.”

Chilchuck acknowledged your advice with a hum, but didn’t respond, instead choosing to fully turn around and put his hands on your sides.

“Mhm, I’ll get to that later.” His voice slurred from tiredness. “Right now, I just missed you.”

Your lover’s blunt declarations of missing you never failed to make you feel warm and fuzzy inside. In fact, you were about to return the sentiment in kind, but didn’t get the chance before the half-foot lurched his body forward to close the space between you.

His mouth was lax against yours, and his tongue lazily poked through the gap, not stretching the inside of your mouth, but merely resting as if it belonged there. It was a lazy kiss, but one full of warmth and a true sense of… home, really.

No mind was paid to the string of saliva left by him as you withdrew, all you could say being a quiet “I missed you too.”

After all, your faces didn’t stay apart for too long after that.

#ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ fallow’s works!#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi imagines #dungeon meshi x reader #delicous in dungeon #delicious in dungeon x reader #delicious in dungeon imagines #chilchuck tims #chilchuck tims x reader

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immajustvibehere · 11 months ago

Text

Amidst a Crashing World (3/5)

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

Summary: Arthur returns to your cabin after you presumed him dead. The time between your last meetings have lead Arthur to a realisation.

tags for this series: fluff, little bit of angst, no-tb-Arthur, literally your love redemption, maybe smut (but probably not), slow burn (but I mean how slow can a story really burn in five chapters?)

masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

6000 words

Sooner than expected, you heard of Arthur. Unfortunately, not because he sent you a note or stopped by again. As you rode into Annesburg three days after wishing him luck for the big score he had planned, the paper boys yelled through the town: "Saint Denis robbers still on the run! What happened to the gang of Dutch van der Linde? Find out in today's edition!"

Normally, you weren't too big on reading the newspaper, but this time…you hadn't never snatched it so quickly out of the boy's hand, leaving him to boast with the change you gave him. Hosea, dead. Lenny, dead. No account of any other names. You weren't sure who "a further gang member was arrested and awaits trial" meant. It only took a couple of days until everybody seemed to talk about it. Your main source of income being doing women's hair, you got a fair bit of gossip about the news.

Everything you heard from the ladies, took with a grain of salt. Either way, nobody ever mentioned Arthur by name. Your anxiety reached its peak when a rather well-off woman, not typically your demographic, had visited family in Saint Denis and brought an unsettling theory with her. Apparently, the most important members of the gang, including the leader, could have fled on a boat and drowned in the storm that was raging over the ocean the same night.

The "they have fled the country"-rumours were the most popular. Drowned in the ocean or not, the version varied based on who told you their theory. With every day you didn't hear the contrary and had no word from Arthur, you believed that you'd never see him again.

That was until one morning. You were working in your garden, busy with fixing the fence that had long stood neglected, when you saw a rider approach. Whether it was the hat or the horse you recognized first, you weren’t sure. But unmistakenly, the man on the horse that lazily trotted towards your cabin was Arthur.

You put your tools down and approached him, forcing yourself to walk calmly. The closer you got, the more unfamiliar he appeared. His beard had grown out, looking unkempt and way too long for what you were used to see him wear. Long strands of hair spilled out from under his hat. Arthur’s skin was darker than usual, even the unforgiving desert in the west hadn't left his skin as sunburned as it now appeared. Most of the red had settled into a golden-brown tan, particularly strong around the area where he cuffed his sleeves. For not seeing him for almost a month, this was quite a change.

A faint smile appeared on his lips when you reached him and walked next to his horse, leading it to your cabin.

"I thought I'd never see you again", you blurted out straight up.

Maybe a “Hello” or “Thanks for stopping by” would have been more appropriate, but the thought that had driven you insane the last three to four weeks just slipped out.

"I know. I'm sorry", Arthur jumped off his horse when you had reached your newly fixed gate. He looked at you, trying to take it all in. He had missed you; he had thought of you so much the last days and weeks, having you in front of him was a little overwhelming. But you looked like he remembered you. You weren’t wearing your fine clothes that you had worn when you caught him in your pond, but the worn jeans and shirt that had seen many fences painted and potted many plants looked good on you. It looked homely.

Arthur cleared his throat before he asked, "D'ya still cut hair?"

It was awkward...the ways he pronounced his question, the uncomfortable manner in which he scratched his way too long beard, seemingly unhappy with its new length.

Before you could answer, he added sarcastically: "Tried finding a barber on the Caribbean island but didn't came across someone I wanted to trust with scissors."

"Caribbean island?", you repeated questioningly, leading him into the cabin.

The tension between you felt peculiar. If tension were a tangible thing, you could have thrown a lasso and seemingly strangled it out of the air. But it wasn’t, so you and Arthur only struggled with finding your rhythm again.

"I came as soon as I could after returning...", Arthur explained apologizing, as if he had to rectify not visiting you sooner.

"Arthur. I thought you were dead", in front of your table, you stopped and looked directly at the man.

"'m afraid I have to disappoint", he chuckled, "Instead I'm here, asking ya for a cheap haircut because we lost...ten thousands in the sea."

"Ugh", you groaned, readying a chair for Arthur to sit on right at the table, "You sound so desperate, I might just give ya that haircut for free."

Arthur placed his jacket on a hinge next to the door and his hat on a free spot on the table. Again, it felt like he knew exactly where to place them, just as if he was coming home after a workday.

"Where d'ya want me, miss?", Arthur asked politely as if he had just entered a barber shop and there wasn't only one chair that looked prepared enough to serve as seat for his cut. You pointed at the chair a little absentmindedly, gathering your equipment and laying it out in the table in front of you.

"How short were you thinking?", you asked, walking around the seated man, ruffling his hair a little.

"Whatever you prefer", Arthur answered.

"What's that supposed to mean?", you asked, letting your finger scrape through his hair. His hair was wet at the roots, so you added surprisedly, "Did you just take a bath?"

"Might 've...", Arthur shrugged as if it was no big deal.

"You didn’t have to”, you reassured him, secretly amused by how endearing you found it.

"You wouldn't say that if you’d seen me before the bath. After three days in the Caribbean, killing half of the Pinkerton's agency and moving camp, you would have shot me on sight", Arthur joked, a bitter smile playing on his lips. Your answer was a soft chuckle.

After combing his hair, you repeated you question: "You're sure you don't want me to tell you how you want your hair done?"

"I trust ya", Arthur said.

"Mh, big mistake", you grinned. You caught Arthur's eye for a moment, and you could have sworn it was admiration in his expression. And trust, which honestly, was seldom for this man.

"I'll just cut it a little shorter than you had it when you first came to collect me", you said, waiting for his confirmation.

"...collect you and failed miserably at that", Arthur added.

"I thank the lord every day for that", you said jokingly. It was no laughing matter, though. You knew that as well as Arthur. The list of people the gang had lost in the last two months was long and you not rejoining was probably the only thing that had kept your name off that list.

You started doing Arthur's hair and one minute in, you decided to carefully pose the question of "What the hell happened the last couple weeks?". Arthur couldn't stop talking. He explained the plan of the bank robbery, explained when it went south. When Hosea was mentioned, he digressed a little. You too ended up sharing some anecdotes of the old man. You had loved him and felt a pang of guilt that you hadn't sent word to him that you were indeed fine. Hosea had been so kind to you when you expressed your wish to be on your own for a while, he had wished you the best and you had never even thought about sending a letter.

Then Arthur mentioned escape from Saint Denis. Your mouth went dry when Arthur recounted the storm, how he went overboard, nearly drowning and not knowing how lucky he was that he washed ashore on a beach. It was uncanny how some of the rumours you had heard mirrored the actual story.

Then came Guarma and everything that happened there. The return, the Pinkertons apparently following someone to Lagras and finally the move to Beaver's Hollow. They had been up there for a couple a couple of days now, and so much had already happened.

You listened, occasionally asked a question, but most of the time you were concentrating on not messing up the haircut. You had never heard Arthur talk that much before. Sober, that is. He can be quite a chatty drunk, but it seemed like he just wanted to get everything off his chest.

"How does that look?", you asked when you were done with his hair, holding a little mirror for Arthur to see.

His only response was a nob and a slight smile.

"Okay then", you spoke gently, "your beard's next."

The whole retelling of the last couple of weeks was what Arthur needed, but it killed his mood the same time. At least, that's what you though he was silent for. You cleared a spot on the table for you to sit on. It was way more comfortable sitting in front of Arthur while trimming his beard, but if you sat on a chair, you wouldn't have the height you needed.

You took a seat on the table in front of Arthur and noticed how his eyes immediately fixed on the ground.

"D'ya mind spreading your legs a little?", you asked. Despite the request confusing him a little, Arthur did as he was told and you put your on foot on his chair, so you wouldn't topple forward. Arthur tried his best to stifle the cough that worked its way up as he choked on his own saliva at this move.

"We're not going for a clean shave, are we?", you asked casually, trying to catch Arthur's eyes. He shrugged: "Whatever's easier for you."

You shook your head and began to trim his beard back to what you remembered he had the last time he visited you. Soon after you started, you noticed Arthur's cheeks getting warm and red. You were well aware that your cleavage was on his eye-level, probably the reason why he decided he was better off inspecting the floor. Meanwhile, you enjoyed gently tilting his head the way you needed it, finding no resistance from the man himself.

You talked only little, answering insignificant questions Arthur posed when the blade wasn't near his face, and he could actually move his mouth. You were almost done, only lining up his beard to give it an overall cleaner look, when Arthur said something out of the blue.

"Y'know, I been thinkin' about you. A lot," Arthur croaked, his throat dry all of a sudden.

"Mhm", you answered, not sure which direction that was supposed to go. You stopped shaving off the stubble on his neck when his Adam’s apple bobbed.

"Uh, I mean...", Arthur clears his throat, forcing you to stop the shave and look at him. Finally, his eyes found yours, "We're...uhm...friends, I hope." He forced a little chuckle that didn't sound genuine, especially under your curious gaze. You gave a quiet hum as sign of agreement.

"'s just that I...look, I understand if ya've found someone else. Hell, I took my sweet time and it wasn't fair how I treated you when you...", Arthur cleared his throat again, the words coming difficult to him, "when ya told me about yer feelings."

This was the point when your heartrate picked up and you felt your hands become sweatier. You had to put the blade down for a moment to wipe your hand on your shirt. Your mind was still caught on the line 'I understand if ya've found someone else'...like that had even been an option for you. For months you had tried to get over this man, then he came back waltzing into your life and you put your own ugly bounty poster on the wall as a reminder. And the you fixed the bedframe that he had fixed rather unsatisfyingly. You hadn't told him it broke the very same night he had “repaired” it. Nothing had changes the last year, you were pining as much for this man as ever...and yet, you didn't quite know how to react.

"I really like ya", he finally said, " I know well I don’t deserve it, but if ya wanted to give me another chance…"

"Morgan", you exhaled, "I got my boot between your balls and a blade at your throat...if you want to pull my leg I suggest you-"

"I mean it", and Arthur's gaze was so intense, this time it was you who struggled to watch him in the eye. You knew he wasn't lying. Hell, you hadn't really expected that he was just pulling your leg, you just said it to say something…to lighten up the mood that appeared so heavy again.

"Okay", you mumbled, barely able to disguise the tremor in your voice. Then you took the blade again, carefully turning Arthur's head upwards so you could better reach the hair you still needed to shave. There was this long and uncomfortable silence that neither of you wanted to break. You heard the birds outside, the blade scratching the skin and a heartbeat...if it was yours or Arthur's, you weren't quite sure.

Arthur thought that Guarma had been hell, but he found that your silence and okay was even more tortuous.

Finally, you were done. With a hairdressing brush you got rid of all the loose hair that decorated Arthur’s face. He gave you a slightly annoyed look as you tickled him behind his ears. Then you took the little towel that had prevented hair from falling into his shirt out in the garden to shake it out.

The moment you stepped into the cabin again, Arthur's eyes caught yours and they were demanding an answer.

"I've never stopped loving you", the words burned as they left your mouth. The towel was thrown over an empty chair. Saying the words out loud…it changed something. Because as long as you had only thought them, there was this slim chance that they weren’t true. But there was no backing-out now, no denying.

You continued: "But I can't...I won't rejoin the gang. I want to live here."

You said that because you knew that Arthur wouldn’t leave the gang for you, but you wouldn’t rejoin in either.

"Y/n...this thing is pretty much over", Arthur sighed. He was referring to the gang. He had alluded to it when he had recounted the happenings of the past weeks, especially breaking John out of jail and earning Dutch's disapproval. This was the first time he directly admitted it, "I want the Marstons safe...and the women...then it's done."

"Oh, so 'one more big score and then you can leave everything behind", you mimicked Dutch's voice. A tinge of animosity accompanied your words and this certainly wasn’t lost on Arthur. You couldn’t help but feel a bit unfairly placed in this situation.

"C'mere for a second", Arthur beckoned you, his eyes following every one of your movements until you stood in front of him, your hips brushing against the table. Arthur remained seated in his chair. Glancing at the man quickly, you congratulated yourself on having done a good job; his haircut looked sharp.

Then, suddenly, Arthur took your hand. It was such an unusual gesture, it alarmed you immediately. His hands were warm and rough, but not in an unpleasant way. Arthur held your hand lightly, as if he was afraid of hurting you.

"I promise this is the last time. In a week, we're going to hit a train with army pay. Wednesday evening. After that, I'm done", Arthur spoke earnestly.

"I can't-" believe you, you wanted to say, because you knew it had been the same story with Mary. You knew that once an outlaw means always and outlaw. Not even Arthur's word was enough to ensure that those bonds wouldn't bind him to his old life and to the gang.

"Don’t say nothing yet", Arthur interrupted calmly. He stood up and let your hand slide off his, as he walked to his satchel. He pulled out his journal and carefully put it next to you. With no hesitation, he opened and skimmed through it. You couldn't see most of the pages because he flipped through them so quickly.

"It ain't even half-way done", Arthur assessed, showing you the empty pages, "I'll leave that here 'n collect it in a week."

"What?", you questioned, frowning, "What if I decide to read it as a bedtime story?"

"'s nothing in there that yer not allowed to know", Arthur mumbled, "Contrary. Sometimes I think I'm much better expressing my feelings on paper. I've never been a good talker."

Silently, Arthur opened a page in his journal that had a little dog-ear. The left side was empty and only had smudges of pencil on it, on the right side there was this impressively detailed bounty poster. It had the layout of the bounty posters they have hanging all over town, obviously it wasn't printed, but hand drawn. You recognized your name, your 15-dollars-worth and then yourself, staring back at you. You hadn't imagined Arthur to be one to draw people, let alone portrait style. In the brush of his pencil you recognized that he might be more professed in sketching trees and animals, but it was a perfectly decent drawing of you. Hell, it was even flattering, compared to the atrocity they had on your real poster.

Arthur put the journal away, leaving it on top of a pile of books on your nightstand.

"I jus' need t'know if this is a place I'm allowed to return to", Arthur finally asked.

"Always", you replied without hesitation, your gaze still fixed on his journal. Is he trying in tempting you to read it? Because if that's the case, it was definitely working.

"So I won't be greeted with a gun in my face?", Arthur chuckled.

You sighed, taking a brush that stood abandoned in the corner of the room and started to swipe Arthur's hair out of the house. "If you're going to bring that up one more time, I swear I'll give you a reason to fear me", you quipped.

"Oh, I already fear you a great deal", Arthur said sarcastically.

You shot him an intense gaze.

"You staying for dinner?", you asked in between the sound of bristles scratching on wood.

Arthur shrugged, mumbling: "They won't miss me for another day..."

"Good. Then go hunt something", you asserted, gently shoving him outside by brushing against his boots until he took the hint.

"Yes ma'am...", Arthur mumbled, a hint of amusement in his voice. When you had successfully shoved him outside, you closed the door behind him, not without a bit of force. It left him slightly perplexed and wondering.

You had tried your best to hold your feelings together, but it had become a little much. Since Arthur's confession, your hands hadn't stopped shaking and you hastily put the brush aside, sitting down with your back against the door. There were so many feelings inside you that all needed to be addressed, but you struggled to even detangle them.

First and foremost: You had spent months pining for Arthur, only to be rejected in a cruel way and then again wasting months in trying to get over him. Just when you thought you were getting somewhere, he comes back into your life with a request that suggests anything but care for you. So, he leaves, and appears again. Then leaves again, presumed dead or out of country and now he's here again, asking for another chance as if you even had the power to reject him. You didn't know if Arthur would be able to make you happy. In a way, you feared it might be the opposite because there was still one score...one more score. He might die, or he might stay for another score, and another, and so on.

You stifled a sob. Scenarios played out in your mind, and they all converged into two possible outcomes, ending with Arthur dead or disappeared, disappointing you yet and yet again because one can't just stop being an outlaw. The 5000 on his head won't just disappear, presumed or actually dead - it didn't matter much.

"Son of a bitch", you hissed, mad at the situation.

You just wanted to be happy and find some closure for this surge of emotions that had held you hostage for months, if not years.

"Y/n?", Arthur's voice was so soft when he called out your name, you almost jumped in shock because you thought he had long gone hunting. But his voice came from right in front of the door.

"You okay?", he asked quietly.

"Yeah", you croaked, and it sounded anything but convincing.

"Ya sure?", he wanted you to confirm.

"I just need some time to think...", you whispered, trying hard not to sob.

"I'll stay close", you heard him state, then there were his steps leading away from the house.

For a while, you just sat on the floor. How to proceed?

By the time Arthur returned, the door to your cabin was wide open again, the sun shining inside. You had made your decision.

"I got us a rabbit", Arthur announced, "already skinned it. Figured it ain’t your kinda work."

You responded with an appreciative nod.

"It’s a real beauty”, Arthur grinned, a wisp of humour in his eyes, “or was, anyhow. I shot it with a small arrow so I reckon the meat-“ before Arthur could put the rabbit down on the table, you had sneaked in for a hug.

"Oh", Arthur stuttered, carefully placing the rabbit down. He lifted his bloody and dirty hands in the air to make sure not to get any dirt on you. Even though you wore clothes that had seen better days and apparently had been demoted to housework, he still didn’t want to get you dirty. Despite his desire to reciprocate the hug.

"Y/n…", he chuckled apologetically, "I need to get washed up."

At that moment, you suddenly looked up to him, your faces mere inches apart. He noticed your gaze drifting between his eyes and lips, then you leaned in, placing a gentle peck on his cheek.

The blush was immediate. Your hands instinctively found their way to his face and tenderly cupped his cheeks. They were just as warm as they had been when you cut his beard.

"I'm really glad you're here", you said, a smile playing on your lips.

"Yeah, I'm-" Arthur began, but you interrupted him with a proper kiss. It was a brief one, testing the waters if Arthur would be fine with that. As you pulled back slightly to assess his reaction, he didn’t hesitate a second, closing the distance between you once more. "I really …don't wanna get ya…dirty", Arthur mumbled between kisses. He could feel the corner of your lips curving into a smile each time you interrupted him. The man struggled to keep his dirty hands in the air.

The kisses quickly became more passionate, and when your hands left his cheeks, one to rest in the hollow between his shoulder and neck, while the other one boldly explored his chest region. It occasionally shifted to grab his arm and squeezing lightly.

Arthur mumbled your name warningly, twice. Then he couldn't help but put his hand in the small of your back, pushing you closer. His bloody hands would surely leave a mark on your clothes, but neither of you cared about that, as his hands became just as active as yours, sometimes cupping your cheek, at other times allowing himself to explore your body a little.

Arthur had just enough control to not place you on the rabbit, when he lifted you up on the table. When both of you became short of breath, Arthur rested his forehead against yours. Your legs had snaked around his, caging him in.

"Haven't done that in a long time", Arthur's voice was raspy as he tried to apologize for the somewhat sloppy make-out session.

"Me neither", you giggled and placed a final kiss on his cheek, "brushed your hair for nothing", you noted, looking up to Arthur's tousled hair. Your fault.

Arthur backed away a little, as much as your legs allowed him: "Christ." He had left signific signs of blood and dirt all over you.

"Mhh…", you hummed amusedly, "Ain't my fault you can't keep your hands to yourself."

"T'way I see it, darling…", Arthur smiled and tried to brush some dirt off your cheek with his thumb, "it's precisely your fault."

Arthur had headed to a keg outside to get cleaned. You decided to get cleaned up only after butchering the rabbit, as this would get your hands dirty again anyways. As the meat sizzled in the in the pan, you decided it was time to wash up as well. While you put the finishing touches on the dish, Arthur sat at the table, leisurely smoking a cigarette and observing you. He had asked if he could help you with anything, but you had declined, insisting that he had already done his part by hunting the rabbit. It was your turn prepare it.

When you plated the meal, it was really nothing too complicated, and yet, Arthur thought, for a free meal, it was perfect. You initiated a conversation; it was more light-hearted than the one you had when you cut his hair. The weightier themes seemed to have lifted from Arthur’s heart, and both of you sought distractions.

You told Arthur more about how you passed your days, gardening, drawing, riding into town. Really most of the money you earned the honest way, cutting hair and doing the odd delivery job for the grocery store.

It was frightening how easy it was to talk to Arthur. Two or three years ago, you would have never imagined, talking so freely to him. Though he'd always been kind, there was an air of unapproachability that had since crumbled completely after the heartfelt conversation you both shared.

The conversation where Arthur poured out his frustrations and regrets concerning Hosea's and Lenny's death, had brought a sense of liberation. It dawned on him how long it had been since he spoke so openly with anyone. Arthur leaned back into his chair. In front of him was his empty plate, opposite of the table, you sat within arm’s reach, chatting about an interesting traveller that came past your cabin a few months back. Arthur listened attentively, his eyes following the movements of your fingers skilfully rolling a cigarette.

Neither of you ran out of stories to tell the other. Arthur talked about people he had met on his travels, a clumsy photographer, a man obsessed with fast horses and racing.

You only realised how long you had been talking when the light in the cabin became sparse, the sun sinking closer to the horizon.

As the visibility waned, limited to the faint glow emitted by the burning tip of the cigarette, you finally rose to your feet to illuminate the cabin with the warm light of lanterns.

"I'll get my bedroll", Arthur announced, standing up with a grunt. He hadn't allowed himself to be this idle in a long time. All he had done today was sitting still for a haircut, killing one rabbit and then indulging in a lavish meal while engaging in easy conversation. His body had finally caught up with the stress of the last few weeks and he didn't know how to feel about how much his body ached. Despite the sun barely disappearing, Arthur would have been ready for bed. Funny, he thought, admitting one’s feeling for a girl could drain his strength that much.

At his announcement, Arthur noticed that you halted and were about to open your mouth as if to suggest something. But you didn't and let him venture outside.

When he took longer than anticipated, you followed him outside, only to find him leaning against the fence, his eyes in the sky. The sky was in this beautiful transition phase, going from hues of purple to a serene shade of blue with the first stars emerging in the east. You observed Arthur’s profile for a while, he didn't protest or showed any signs of being disturbed by your presence.

He was handsome. Something about his stature made you want to lean into him. But you didn't. Instead, you stood there, finding it hard to peel your eyes off him. Your lips quivered under the urge to say what you had thought earlier. After a big breath, you tried to say as casually as you managed: "I know my bed is too small for two people...but I was thinking if I put the mattress on the floor we could-"

"Y/N", Arthur interrupted you gently. He turned to look at you. Caringly, his hand found your shoulder, "It ain't right just yet."

Lying next to each other, cuddling, hugging, maybe stealing another kiss, you craved it badly. You finally had what you had desired for so long, you wanted it all at once. But Arthur knew that it would be unwise. He thought a lot about you, hell he did. And in his mind, he'd be too embarrassed to admit it of course, you had done way more than just kissed. But he knew it'd be wrong. He didn't want to fully commit just yet, and he didn't want to get your hopes up. It was genuine, when he said that the train robbery was the last score he wanted to do with the gang, but one train robbery is enough to get killed and he wouldn't dream about giving you this kind of pain. If he held it vague, if there was no sleeping close to each other, there was also no missing this proximity...if. Always if.

"Fine", you sucked in a little air, "but you take the bed then."

The two of you headed inside, Arthur with his bedroll clamped under his arm.

He shook his head: "It's your house, I can't jus'-"

"Exactly. It's my house, I can sleep in the bed every damn day. Besides, I don't figure you had a proper bed on Guarma, did you?", you teased.

"No, but-"

"Neither do you have one in camp so please- accept it", you looked up at Arthur rather desperately.

"Fine. You don't come complainin' to me if yer back hurts tomorrow", Arthur quipped.

"Oh, I'll definitely complain", you grinned. Arthur gave you his bedroll to spread in the corner where he had slept the last time. Arthur had sat down on the bed and watched you quietly as you readied your sleeping corner. When you glanced back at him, it was evident how weary he was, his eyes barely open, sitting up only out of politeness.

"You don't have to stay awake for me", you smiled, leaning against the table and studying the exhausted man. You noticed how tired he had become during your conversation. He had at least supressed three yawns.

"I jus'...haven't seen ya for so long, I don't want to waste that time with sleeping", Arthur explained. You found it cute he thought that way.

"You're not wasting anything", 'because we'll see each other again in a week, right?' you added in your mind. "I have this book I want to finish anyways, you just rest", you assured him.

You waited until he had settled in, exchanging a couple laughs about how unstable your bedframe was, and then you did the dishes. It didn't take you long, but Arthur was asleep when you had finished. He was turned towards the wall. On the nightstand was his journal. He had put it on top of the book you were currently reading. You took the book and settled on the bedroll.

You woke up to the sound of the bed creaking and blinked at Arthur, the first rays of the sun casting a warm glow on his frame. At some point during the night, he must have woken up and shed his clothes, as he now rested in the room clad only in his unionsuit.

"'m sorry, darlin'. I didn't want to wake ya", he apologized his raspy morning voice.

"It's okay", you yawned, forcing yourself to throw off your blanket to stand up, "I'll make some coffee."

In a couple big steps, Arthur was at your side: "You sleep some more, it's my turn for breakfast." Arthur squatted next to you and tugged you in before you could protest. You forced your tired eyes to stay on his face and not venture further down, pondering what the thin material might reveal.

When Arthur shot you a content smile, seeing you were up for no protest, a wave of panic washed over you.

"You won't just leave, right?", all of a sudden, you were wide awake.

"I won't", Arthur assured you.

"'cause if you do-", you started, a yawn interrupting your threat. Arthur chuckled at how cute and innocent you looked, happy that your yawn cut off before you could destroy that innocence with another gory threat.

"I'm way too scared of what you'd do", and then, to your surprise, he kissed your forehead. You only relaxed when Arthur had stood up again and indeed started to set up coffee. You were soon off to sleep again, only woken when the sizzling of fat in the pan woke you.

Arthur had made eggs. You ate in silence. A couple of times, Arthur tried to start a conversation, but you weren’t in the mood. He’d be gone in a couple of hours and you’d be left wondering if he’d ever return. Arthur knew that this was what was plaguing you, but he didn’t find the right angle to approach you.

You both did the dishes together, you helped Arthur by saddling his horse and then he had mounted it, looking down at you.

“Ya ain’t so happy about the prospect of me returning in a week, ‘s that it?”, Arthur joked.

“No”, you answered dryly, “I ain’t so happy about you leaving for a week.”

Arthur sighed and steered his horse closer to the fence: “Climb up here, I gotta tell ya something.”

Rather unwillingly, you climbed on one of the horizontal planks that kept your fence together. Arthur offered his hand for support and as an excuse to pull you a little closer. He kissed you, gently, on your lips.

“I promised I’ll be back, didn’t I?”, Arthur mumbled. He wasn’t convinced, and neither were you when you whispered a dire “Yeah..”

You didn’t like the good-bye kiss. In fact, you wished he hadn’t done that. It hurt even more, seeing him disappear between the trees in the distance. For a while, you stood there helplessly, wondering what to do next. Minutes passed before you ventured into your cabin, distracting yourself with some cleaning before your eyes fell on Arthur’s journal. You noticed a piece of paper sticking out. Without thinking, you opened the journal and the loose paper floated to the ground. You didn’t even bother picking it up, your eyes caught the first word written on top of the page. It was your name, written in Arthur’s familiar handwriting.

“Hell no”, you kicked the paper under the bed before you could read any further. You weren’t up for some heartfelt “Good-bye, in case I die I want you to know this”-letter. Frustration and anger bubbled within you as you scrambled into your good jeans and crammed your revolver into its back pocket. With a swift motion, you picked up your hunting rifle, mounted your horse and started to follow Arthur’s track.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x--x-x-x-x-x-x-x

next chapter: here

Shoutout to @little-honeypie who basically wrote the confession scene. I wouldn't have ever finished this if it weren't for them <3

taglist: @photo1030

taglist for this series: @pinkiemme @loveheartarthur @twola @shiokitsune @missredemption @kakashiislut @thewalkingdead1463 @yyiikes @renwai @walk-in-sunshine @rdrlady @ivybeeloved @trinswhimsys @reddedmiller @chiefqueefsosa @sauvignon-velvet @mrsarthurmorgan @readingcoco @pookiesnatcher @gloomdoomraccoon

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 #arthur morgan x female reader #red dead redemption community #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr #rdr fanfiction

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hisui-dreamer · 1 year ago

Text

rewrite the stars

Characters: Leona, Azul, Jade, Idia

Synopsis: if the stars say we're not meant to be, then why don't we just rewrite the stars?

Tags: horoscopes, reader is insecure, crack(?), fluff, comfort, not proofread

Word count: 1.4k+

Notes: rewrite the stars got stuck in my head then this idea popped up hehe

Disclaimer: i don't really know a lot about astrology, so most of the things i say are from google searches. in general, take astrology with a grain of salt yeah.

but also my sign and jade's sign are compatible hehehe

Masterlist

it's not easy being confident in love, and sometimes when you get so lost in your fears, you let anyone and anything tell you what you fear to admit, without a care for how truthful those words may be.

truthfully, if you were dead serious and broke up with him, he'd just grumble out a "whatever" and put up the façade that he doesn't care

but he'd actually be so mad at himself for pushing you away and how nothing in his life could ever go smoothly

but your eyes are swollen and tears are threatening to spill as you whisper those words

he silently approaches you, and instinctively reaches to brush your tears away, but his warm, calloused hand only makes you cry harder at how much you love the man before your eyes

he pulls you into his arms and holds you close as you sob into his chest

he doesn't say anything and waits for you to elaborate, there's a part of him that's afraid if he asked you why you wanted to break up with him, he couldn't bear how his own self-hatred

once you've calmed down, you start explaining how you two are incompatible in astrology, that he's a leo so it's easy for miscommunication to happen and other issues that have plagued you since you read about them

he's heard all this make believe astrology personality stuff before, but never before has he been glad of how ridiculous the idea is

you hear leona let out a big sigh, and the tension in his shoulders immediately lessens

pulls away from you to stare deep into your eyes, his face completely serious and solemn

"Herbivore, are you happy with me?" he asks. At you confused face, he repeats the question, his expression unchanging. When you nod firmly, he smiles slightly and asks again. "Then what else matters? As if I would let the souls of the past kings or some random star talk decide who I'm gonna love," he scowls at the idea. He leans forward and rests his forehead against yours. "You're stuck with me now, I'm not lettin' ya go that easily," he whispers.

He pulls you with him as he falls back onto the mattress, cradling you in his arms. "Sleep. You're not a baby anymore so don't go crying yourself to sleep," he teases, but he gently kisses the remainder of your tears away.

azul.exe has stopped functioning

blubbering like a fish out of water (wait...) he's lost and hurt and confused and panicking all at the same time

"w-w-what have i done to upset you angelfish????"

the tweels walk into azuls office just to see the two of you crying and confused, azul trying to ask you why and he's sad and crying, you're stumbling over your words and sniffing and crying

ok after a glass of warm water (thank you jade) the two of you calm down to actually have a proper conversation, though azul is still very obviously tense

you explain that he's a Pisces and that means you two not compatible with how sensitive he is and he's a water sign and so on

azul is very confused about how stars can determine people's personalities, but he does fit the description of a Pisces, and if his beloved Angelfish is stressed over astrology, then it must be a reliable tell (azul no)

he asks for you to give him some time, to actually understand your reasonings and of course, to give him a chance and prove to you how willing he is to work out a relationship with you

the next day, azul visits you with very deep dark eye circles, but the glint in his eyes shows full determination and confidence

azul businessman mode on!

sits you down and pulls up a slideshow

azul ashengrotto is now an astrology expert!

he's determined to show you that you two have maximum compatibility and whatever issues you have? he'll always work them out with you

"Darling, you mentioned our Sun signs yesterday, but I think it's crucial to also discuss our rising, moon, and star signs." He declares as he points to a star chart. "Now, following the calculations of our birth dates and locations..."

An hour later, you sit completely convinced that astrology all but supports your relationship with Azul, and you can't help smile and jump into his arms. Azul, sleep deprived and running on anxiety, somehow manages to not fall over, but soon leans his weight on you. "See? We're perfectly compatible with each other," he murmurs against your ear. His arms wrap around you, squeezing you gently, "so please don't leave me, I wouldn't know what to do without you..."

eyes wide slowly blinking like "... I beg your pardon?"

honestly jade doesn't look that surprised/hurt

but really he's suppressing the turmoil of emotions inside him

ever the logical thinker, he'd ask a calm "May I ask why, my dear?"

and you surprise him again with flowing tears and a trembling voice

though he's listening very patiently as he's diligently wiping away your tears with his handkerchief, soft careful movements to avoid causing discomfort

asks questions when he doesn't understand what in astrology is going on, genuinely making an effort to understand this field of academics

in a sense, he's distracting you from being upset with academic discussion

okay, he's a Scorpio, which makes him good at manipulating people??? and he's very bold??

now while he finds all this very interesting and slightly accurate, it still feels pretty whimsical that the time you're born in determines your personality

particularly as he's so different to Floyd! and they were born at the same time!

whichever the case, the more pressing issue is his dearest lover sniffing and whining that you could never be happy together with how incompatible you are

he pulls you into his chest for a bit, rubbing soothing circles into your back and leaving gentle kisses you until your sniffing quiets down

"Dearest, won't you look at me?" he murmurs against your ear. You look up to see the most tender expression you had ever seen on him, his mismatched eyes filled with warmth and affection.

"While it is indeed extremely unfortunate that our star signs are incompatible, I don't believe there's a single person out there who could love me better than you do," he says as he kisses your hand. "I promise that your happiness will always be my utmost priority, so won't you continue to love this silly eel?"

"Now, while I will always find you enchantingly beautiful, I do believe a smile shines the brightest on my lovely pearl," he smiles while brushing the remaining wetness away from your eyes.

simply put, idia panics immediately

every day he thinks the fates have been far too kind to him for you to even reciprocate his feelings

he's always mentally preparing himself if you want to break up or you need to leave him

so he puts up a brave face when you say you can't be together

but wait... you actually look really upset and on the verge of tears???

"Hold up, why are you the one crying?"

please don't tell him those are tears of joy i think he'd die on the spot

through sobs and sniffs, you tell him that you were curious about your compatibility based on astrology

and okay...? he's a fire sign??? explains the hair

okay so you're telling him, you're breaking up with him solely because you think this thing might be right and not because you hate him, right?

brb gotta blow up some stars

starts mumbling about some plans to build space missiles and blow up some stars that make up his sign or something

he can't be an asparagus(??? idia no it's sagittarius doesn't matter) if the constellation no longer exists, right?

you stop him (thank god) by cupping both of his cheeks to make him stare straight at you

he's flushing up instantly and every fiber of his being yearned to turn away but your teary gaze makes him stop squirming

"You know," he begins, his voice earnest and steady, "everyday, I can't believe how lucky I am to have you in my life. If you're unworthy of me, then I'm unworthy of you."

He lets out a chuckle, that rumble echoing right into your ear. "I suppose I can put those star destroyer blueprints on hold, at least for the time being. But if the stars ever mess with us again, it's game over for them."

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

#twstnexus #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst wonderland #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #twisted wonderland leona #jade leech #jade leech x reader #twisted wonderland jade #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #twisted wonderland azul #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #twisted wonderland idia

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mochamadeleines · 1 month ago

Text

Sins, Two Through Four <3

Javi doesnt do good girls. Literally and figuratively.

Theyre nice, sure. Honeyed voices and beautiful eyes. But theyre just not for him. He prefers to stick with what he knows best. Messy, broken, women who are looking to distract themselves with him and his body. Sharp eyes topped with heavy eyeliner and eyeshadow. Women who know what to do with him.

Hes been soiled by the world, therefore belongs with others whove met the same fate. But, hes okay with that. (3.3k words)

tags!! 18+ javier peña x reader ! one shot! inoccent reader i guess?, no set era just vaguely somewhere in the late 80s early 90s :p, since its like entirely from his perspective hes only referred to as Javi and not javier sorry if that bothers u </3, corruption, religious allegories, steve and connie r there for five seconds, dubious I suppose cuz they be drinking, smut but its not like Good and its also there for about five second lolol.., p in v sex, blow jobs, rough sex, lots of depressing internal dialogue for javi Uhhhhhh, Sus thoughts abt causing harm to u I GUESS?? Toxic javi of course lol. kinda bad boy x good girl concept here but he wants to make u WORSE. mannn idk, some dom/sub dynamics if u squinttt

authors notes!! hi! Ok my first Javi fic LOOOOL been binging narcos and i had to take a break from my joel fic in the works to write this shit. I SPENT THE ENTIRE DAY PUMPING THIS OUT AHHHHH Beinf as that ive been working on it For One whole day it may not b my best work but i still had fun!! i kinda like the religious allegories Uhh IM NOT RELIGIOUS OR SCHOLARYLY OR ANYTHING so take whatever i reference with a grain of artsy salt.. enjoy!!!!

Javi doesnt do good girls. Literally and figuratively.

Hes been soiled by the world, therefore belongs with others whove met the same fate. But, hes okay with that.

That brings him to now, at this crowded bar with Steve, later Connie. And you, he guesses. Hes never met you but hes heard of you. Tonight youre tagging along so thats that.

Anyways, Steve is updating him on his daughter and something else about enrolling her in private school but New York City is wildly expensive. Javis caught the eye of a pretty brunette further away from the bar hes sitting at. Shes in a black miniskirt begging to get taken off.

“Stop eye-fuckin’ her, Im talkin’ to you.”

“Relax, Im listening.” Javi takes another drag from his cigarette, tapping away the ash into a tray.”Youre a hard worker, Im sure you can find a way to move up and earn a little more for Olivias private schooling.”

Steve sighs, nursing his beer as he thinks. “Maybe. Just dont wanna be away from her more than i have to be.”

“Mm.”

The brunette beckons him over, and Javi is already sliding off the stool to meet her. “Ill be r-”

“Steve!”

Connie is here, and so is her-

Friend?

Youre wearing a baby blue slip with sheer white tights and a thin, white cardigan. Youre pretty. Its only when you introduce yourself and he meets your eyes that hes sure. Youre good. And he doesnt do good. Youre not his type, Javi decides. Lame.

He moves down a seat so you can sit next to Connie whos also next to Steve, and you seem nervous. He gets the feeling you dont come out to places like this a lot. Its too.. Grungy. People smoke inside and get crazy drunk and dance. Probably not your speed. Youre easy to read.

Steve, “Remind me again how you know each other?”

“From work! Shes a nurse.” Connie smiles at Steve first, and then to you. A nurse, of course. Because youre good and its practically oozing off of you. Maybe hes wrong. He hopes hes wrong. Only because youre so pretty, with pretty pink blush and lipgloss.

You now, “I work in pediatrics.”

You work with children? Jesus christ.

You help people- help your community and take care of children. Javi had to watch children die, over and over, all too complicit each time it happens. No, youre not his type. Hes not into angels. Javi is far from holy and isnt about to desecrate you.

Then there's this feeling that starts to stir in his gut. An ugly feeling that wants to scratch through flesh and bone to get out. He takes the final drag of his cigarette before smushing it into the ashtray. Why do you bother him so much? Maybe its because upon your arrival that pretty brunette he was eyeing disappeared. A real shame.

But youre here, and your breasts are softly spilling over the neckline of your dress, and while the length is enough to cover your ass when youre standing, the way it looks while youre sitting is a whole different story. Youre good eye candy. Glass half full thinking.

He clears his throat. “How long-”

The bartender interrupts with a pearly smile. Hes asking if you want anything and hes obviously into you. Annoyingly so.

While youre ordering, Steve and Connie walk away to dance, and Connie stops by Javi, dipping her head to his ear. “Please, please dont fuck my friend.”

Ironic.

“Dont worry,” He leans his elbow on the counter, finishing the rest of his whiskey. “Shes not my type. Go have fun.”

You order three shots of vodka and apple juice. Its a little cute the way you hold your nose while you down each shot and chase it with some juice. Javis on his next glass of whiskey, watching how some of your drink rolls down your collar bone and into the valley of your breasts.

The sight of you is downright sinful. Its not fair.

“You need another shot or are you good now?”

Youre laughing, batting your hand dismissively. “No, No. Im good. I hate alcohol so I wanted to get this part over with and loosen up a little.”

“You dont have to drink it if you dont want to.”

“I like being drunk, just not drinking.”

“Fair enough.”

You fold your hands in your lap, and spin your seat side to side. “You were asking me something earlier?”

“How long have you been a nurse?”

“Three years now. I was working at a different hospital until recently. Thats how I met Connie.”

“Ah.”

“And you? What do you do?”

Javi lets the silence linger a bit. Fuck it. “Uh, CIA- but im retired now.”

“Oh- Yes! Right! Connie- She told me. Im sorry, you probably dont wanna talk about it.”

This is what makes his gums start itching. Most women- who are just as tragic as him- just bat their lashes and tell him its sexy he works for the government.

But you- Youre good. So you actually care about how hes feeling, and arent just trying to fuck him. Maybe that could change?- Ugh- No- no. Just no. Youll be ruined. Youd get dirty and thatd weigh him down like everything else does. Plus, Connie told him not to.

“Um. Have you done anything fun recently? Aside from all that?” Cute how you try to change the subject to spare his feelings.

Javi breaks open a new pack of cigarettes, slipping one out and putting it between his lips, then flicks his lighter on. Once, twice. A fifth time. No dice. The fucking thing ran out fluid.

“Fuck,” He grumbles.

“Ah! Hold on!”

An eyebrow is raised.

You dig through your purse, and pull out a disposable lighter. You thumb the sparkwheel a couple times to get the flame going.

“Do you mind?”

Javi hums no and leans forward. You do too, cupping your hand over the flame in case it goes out. It lights, and he gets a good drag in.

“Thank you.”

“Youre welcome.” And youre smiling again and Javi wants to shake you around and see where youre hiding your halo. Hes good at getting information out of people. He could get you to confess.

“Any reason you carry around a lighter?”

“Uhh. For medicinal purposes.”

“Cheeky.”

You spin in your chair once, all the way around then wobble when you stop. Javi shoots his arm out to grab yours and keep you steady.

“Careful.”

“Thanks.” A short breath. “Still think I need another shot?”

Javi smirks. “Oh, definitely.”

And youre ordering two shots. Bold.

“To answer your question, I havent done any fun things, no- Oh actually, you know what? I went to the art museum the other day.”

“The MET?”

“Mhm.”

“I went there a few months ago! Its beautiful isnt it? Do you have a favorite exhibit?”

“Probably European sculptures. The ones under the skylights were my favorite.”

“Yeah, those are beautiful.” You look off, dreamy.

Youre a childrens nurse, youre bad at drinking, you like art, and Javier feels sick just sitting next to you. Theres so much ugly out there, hes sure youre aware, and yet youre as bright as ever infront of him. Youd probably fit right in with The Triumph of the Church.

Theres only one word that can describe that ugly feeling swirling in him.

Envy. He wishes he could be as untouchable as you feel right now.

Theres a push and pull. He wants to taste your lips and roll up your dress and roughen you up, but he cant- he shouldnt. You dont deserve to get felt up by someone so unclean.

And yet,

Your beautiful smile, one that always reaches your eyes, and your precious laugh, and the way youve been nervously playing with your hands this entire time makes him want to break you. To rip those wings out and keep you from flying.

Javi really is devilish.

“Okay, shot time!” You push one of the glasses towards him.

“Im not taking a shot,” He takes another puff from the cigarette, then lets it rest on the ashtray.

“C’mon, Javier! Pleeeeeaaaase?”

“Javi.” He emphasizes.

“Okay.” You nod, “Javi, please?”

“Fine.”

Alright, alright. It didnt take much, but to be fair ‘please’ and ‘Javi’ just sound so good together when you say it.

Clink!

You count to three, and together you take the shot. Javi only grimaces at the taste and youre scrambling for the juice after letting go of your nose. Youre so damn messy about it too. Javi gets the bartender to get some napkins.

“I think I'm done,” You cough.

“I think youre done too.” He smiles, “Do you normally spill your drinks on yourself?”

You patiently hold still while Javi wipes down your mouth, then your chin, then your collarbone, careful to not get too close to your chest. He eyes the dainty necklace that carries your first name initial.

“Noooo, it all just happens so fast, you know? Oh! And thank you for cleaning me up.” Youre smacking your lips together, “Ah shit, my gloss.”

“Yeah, looks like you ate it all in the chaos.” He glances over at the four shot glasses, all stained.

You groan after digging through your purse. “Fuck, I left my compact at home.”

“Being a girl seems hard.”

“It is.” You sigh, albeit dramatic. “Ill be back.”

You slide off the stool and almost eat shit actually. At least Javi is there to catch you. Again. This might be a recurring theme tonight considering how many drinks you had. Must be a lightweight.

“Im sorry- Fuck, Im so sorry,” Youre laughing again, and it gets a laugh out of him too. Back on the stool you go.

“If you fall again Im not gonna catch you.”

“Thats okay, I wouldnt catch me either.”

Javi thinks for a moment, curious.

“I could, yknow, put the gloss on you. If you want.”

“Really? Youd do that?”

Your eyes are big and bright, lashes accentuated by your mascara. The way you look at him makes him feel oddly special. Its not sultry, or wanting. You have this natural allure to you. Angelic. That alone makes him want to touch you again. To yank you down from the clouds.

“Yeah, gimmie the gloss.”

You put it in his palm and lean towards him. Javi messes with the applicator, listening to the squish of product inside the tube. Seems easy enough.

Javi situates himself more comfortably in the chair, then holds your chin as he applies it. Youre well behaved the entire time, like he expected, except for the fact that you lost your balance again and gripped onto his thigh to keep you from falling. He clears his throat. There are blaring alarms in his head telling him to put distance between you both.

“Sorry.”

“Its alright. I dont mind.”

You swallow nervously. Any angel would be nervous if they were this close to an agent of hell. Get it? Agent?

Javi tucks away the fly aways first. The applicator swipes across your bottom lip, and hes squinting at the little sparkles in the gloss. Its a nice touch. His thumb rubs away any excess to keep it neat.

“Good job for not falling again.”

“I had some help.” And youre both grinning now.

“Mkay, all done.”

You smack your lips, nodding. “Thank you.”

This is the moment where Javi should let you go. He should excuse himself and find someone who isnt you, someone whos filthy just like him, and have them instead.

You tilt your head in his palm, letting him cradle your face.

But youre so pretty, and youre so sweet, and youre right there.

That feeling from earlier is bubbling up again, the need to ruin you. You might look prettier covered in bite marks and sweat, with your hair messed up and your recently applied gloss all gone. Again.

He shouldnt.

But then again, what are sinners even good for if not this? Converting others and carrying on the missions of the Devil himself, you know, the works. Fuck, its not like he wasnt doing it anyways. Shout out to the government.

Javi observes you, trying to make a decision. “Hey,”

“Hiii.”

“Can I take you home?”

Its was easy, and you were so well behaved about it too. You did a little nervous yapping on the way to his apartment but it was cute. He learned you had a pet cat, and he tells you about the dog he grew up with. You talk about the shitty weather recently and Javi tells you he got rained on and slipped going up the stairs. It settles your nerves. Good. His phone keeps ringing in the glove compartment, but he just tells you to ignore it. Steve no doubt.

He makes sure to hold your hand on the way up to his apartment, giving it a squeeze before he lets go to open the door.

Javi’s heart never usually pounds this hard bringing any woman to his place, and its downright sinnister how excited he is.

When the door closes, you both leave your shoes at the door.

“Want anything? I dont have any apple juice but I can give you orange juice? Water if you want that instead?”

“Orange juice sounds good.”

You begin to linger about his living room. Youre probably getting a feel for how impersonal it all is. Plain. His room is a bit more interesting, at least.

Javi hands you the glass and shucks off his leather jacket, draping it over one of the kitchen chairs.

The first time he kisses you, is while walking through to the entrance of his bedroom. One hand gripping your hip and the other cradling the back of your head. He swallows ever whimper, every sigh, every squeak until the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress. Javi pulls away, watching the string of spit snap and cling to your bottom lip.

“Are you good at following directions?”

“Yes-Yes. I am.” You choke out.

Now sat on the bed, “Great. On your knees then.”

Tonight, youre going to pray. Youre going to sing.

You hesitate to get down, but do it with no complaints. Javi stretches over to the bedside table, grabbing a spare pack of cigarettes and lighter.

Your eyes are on him, patiently waiting for another command.

He continues to smoke at a leisurely pace, petting your head and caressing the apples of your cheeks. Youre leaning into his hand affectionately again.

Youre hit with some of the excess smoke he breathes out, coughing a bit.

“Javi-”

“No more talking. Understand?”

A beat passes, and you nod again, only shuffling forward to rest your head on the inside of his thigh. Javi taps away the ash.

“Good girl.”

You stay down there for a little while, only squirming and wiggling to relieve the soreness settling into your knees. You dont talk, you dont whine, you dont go grabbing at him. You stay put because he didnt tell you to do anything else. Youre good. Angels are loyal to a fault.

When you do get a command, youre perking up like a dog. Cute. Javis telling you to take his cock out.

You go for it, and he tuts at you. “Do it slow.”

And so, youre doing it slowly now, pulling out the leather from under the buckle, opening it up and then popping open the button to his jeans. Your lips press into a thin line, looking up at him for reassurance.

“Go on.”

His zipper is pulled down at a snails pace, and your eyes widen at the lack of underwear. No surprise there. Javi sighs when you take him your hand.

He lets you feel him up curiously, your thumb wisping over his flushed tip, smearing along the white beads gathering there.

“Put it in your mouth.”

You stiffen, unsure. Javis reminded that youre good and you probably dont do this kind of thing a lot.

“Its not hard, nena. Promise. Want me to teach you?”

Youre nodding now, more eagerly.

“Start by kissing it.”

Tentatively, you kiss starting from the bottom up- That much you know how to do- So its a good start. He sighs out the last bit of smoke and stretches over to the bedside again to put out the cigarette.

After kissing, youre licking, and after licking, youre finally trying to swallow him. He groans, holding the back of your head and coaxing you to take more.

You gag, backing out to catch your breath then taking him in again.

“Jus’ like that- Fuck-”

And somehow the slight inexperience gives you the upperhand. You want to be good for him, and your clumsy hands are doing as much as they can to make up for your lack of deep-throating capabilities.

Its when you suck harshly on the head that he hunches forward with a gasp. “Yeah-Yes.”

You do it again, and again, and hes so fucking close now but he stops you. Not yet.

“You did good.” Javi reassures you. “Get up.”

You wobble up onto your feet and hes pulling you into a kiss, hands exploring you all over with urgency. He needs it now, to do what he wanted to do at the bar when he first started talking to you. He needs to drag you down with him.

Javi pulls your cardigan off, and then your dress, and as more layers of your clothing come off the more he cant wait. Youre moaning under his tongue, only squirming when he nips at the flesh of your torso, leaving a trail of blossoming bruises in his wake. He tells you to lay down and you follow accordingly.

Javi kisses up your stomach, and the junction between your neck and shoulder. You almost speak, almost. And it has his dick harder than he thought it could get. Youre still obeying. Fucking incredible.

He pulls your hips forward, making you whimper. A finger traces through your folds, and he practically gushes with pride just feeling what hes done to you so far. He hasnt even gotten to the best part.

“Talk to me,”

Youre babbling now, “K-Keep touching me- Dont stop. Please, Javi.” There it is again. ‘Please’ and ‘Javi’. He cant say no to someone whos been so reverent thus far.

He rewards you by tracing soft circles around your clit, watching the way your abdomen flexes at the pressure. The combination of nervousness and arousal has your thighs quaking around his forearm. You give in so easy.

Javi tells you to lay on your stomach, Then, hes pressing kisses up your spine to soothe you. To sedate you.

You practically crumble when his cock reaches all the way inside you. This is it. Hes going to rip those obnoxious fucking wings out of your back.

“Javi,” You wheeze, clawing at the sheets. His hand sits on the nape of your neck to keep you pinned down. Javi grunts, doubling forward over your back. Its almost like hes punishing your guts just because youre you.

He grabs your wrists instead, pulling them behind your back and anchoring himself with one hand. The other curls into your hair, yanking your head up from the pillow you covered in drool.

You sob, trembling when Javi buries himself to the hilt. Hes panting over your neck like a dog, licking and nipping there like one too.

“Thank you,” You sniffle, twisting your neck to get a glimpse of him. Your mascaras running down your face. Humble, even in the face of your own sacrilege.

Javi shushes you with a sloppy kiss. Hell only accept your thanks when hes finally run you dry.

Tonight is the night you fell from grace. All because of him.

#javier peña #narcos #pedro pascal #mocha writes #javier pena x reader #narcos fanfiction #smut #javier x reader #javier pena x you #oneshot #tired of over analyzing this so im just posting SIGHHSHSSS

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steviewashere · 8 months ago

Text

My Eyes Are on Me

Rating: General CW: Steve is really unkind to himself here Tags: Post-Canon, Post-Season 4, Established Relationship, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, (The comfort is minor but is there I promise), Insecure Steve Harrington, Body Issues, Steve Harrington is a Mess, Breakdown, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Scar Insecurities, Scars, Devotion, (Steve Could Be Seen With Body Dysphoria Here But Take That With a Grain of Salt)

💛—————💛 He walks into the bedroom. Stopped in a curious stupor at what greets him.

Steve’s standing at the mirror. Shirt pooled around his elbows. Right thumb gliding over the crooked edges of his demobat bites. They’re palm sized. His stomach is pale and the bites paint themself a warm pink mauve over his lower abdomen. The tender and scarred skin protrudes from the rest of his body, healed incorrectly, and kissing the calloused skin of his thumb easily. His eyes are downcast at his reflection. Watching his own caressing. He frowns at a particular ridge in the skin. Thumb twitching away from where he touches. But his eyes don’t move from their focused spot. Squinting. Eyebrows furrowing. He swallows harsh enough that Eddie sees his neck flex with the movement.

“I thought that they’d match better,” Steve murmurs sadly. He looks up. At Eddie over his shoulder. “I’m sure that my back doesn’t look much better.” Then, he pulls the shirt back over his head. Pulling it down, down, down over his torso. Disguising his back from view.

Eddie blinks. Sliding his sight to where Steve’s back is now covered. “I didn’t really look,” he admits. “Not really something I was focused on just now.”

In response, Steve hums. “I know,” he whispers, “Could feel you watching me.” He turns away from the mirror, finally. Facing Eddie. There’s several feet of distance between them. Eddie feels as though he’s too far away, but doesn’t want to intrude any further than he already has.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I just…Honestly, I don’t know what I was doing.”

Steve shrugs and moves towards the end of his bed. Sits down and falls backwards. Sprawling over his comforter. The bottom of his t-shirt pulls up. Part of his scars show. But he doesn’t move to cover them again. “It’s fine,” Steve mutters. He runs a hand over his chest. Settling his palm over his heart. “At least you were just watching, I guess. Not saying shit.”

Cautiously, Eddie comes closer. Sprawls beside Steve on his bed. But keeps his gaze at the ceiling, just as Steve is doing. “You’re eye candy. My eyes were just drawn to you. I didn’t mean anything negative by it,” he explains. “You say people are talking about your scars?”

“It’s not important, Eds. Don’t worry about it.”

“Hey,” Eddie softly objects. He turns his head to look at Steve. All he catches is his side profile. “I have scars, too. In fact, mine are way worse than yours. If people are giving you shit about yours, you can tell me. Besides, it’s always important if it makes you look at yourself like that.”

Next to him, Steve swallows heavily. Probably realizing he’s been caught. Eddie doesn’t like the way he sees his sunshine’s face screw up. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Baby,” Eddie sighs. “You were all…How do I say this? You were…disheartened. Like looking at yourself was disdain in its finest form, y’know?”

Steve scrunches his t-shirt where his hands had been pressing. “Maybe I am,” he mutters, “But it doesn’t matter. Just something I’m gonna have to get used to.” He runs his hand down to the hem of his shirt. Fingers teasing the idea of running against his skin. “Just like I got used to the nightmares. And the fear. And the panic.”

“You shouldn’t have to get used to any of that, Steve,” Eddie states emphatically. “You should be able to talk about it. And be heard. And like…Like feel good in your life!”

A hand presses into Eddie’s forearm. He looks down and spots the palm that Steve had on himself. When he looks back up, Steve’s eyes are locked with his. “Eds, babe, I appreciate what you’re trying to do right now. Really, I do. This isn’t something that’s going to get fixed overnight. It’s not something I see myself adjusting to in due time.” He sighs mournfully. “My scars are new to me. I’ve never experienced something like them before. Maybe the tiny ones I’d get on my knuckles or when I would hit my head, but the back and stomach are fresh. I…I don’t like feeling bad about myself. I know that I feel bad about myself. But I can’t just shut that off.

“I’d like to,” he admits, his eyes downcast at his hand on Eddie’s skin. “One day, I’d like to pull my shirt off and be confident in myself. To look at the difference and say how proud I am. But I just…Can’t. I’ve been good looking. I’ve been attractive. I just don’t feel that way right now.”

“You are, Steve,” Eddie urges softly. “You are so attractive.”

Steve’s smile is small and quick, but it’s there. He squeezes Eddie’s forearm. “Thank you, I appreciate that, Eds. But it’s going to take me a while to realize that you’re telling the truth. Like…I’m not doubting that. I’m not disproving that you feel that way. It’s not computing, though. Do you get it?” He doesn’t like that he understands. His body being a fixture of his self doubts a lot now. But he nods. He nods because Steve is seeking that comfort within him. The understanding that he’s being heard. That Steve’s allowed to feel this way. Even if it destroys Eddie. “You know how…How when we have sex I don’t like having the lights on?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, I do,” Eddie answers. Again, his voice is soft. Teetering with an uneasy sadness. He knows all about this.

“One day we’ll have the bedside lamp on and you’re hands will be on my skin and I won’t feel bad for it,” Steve says. It sounds like a promise. Eddie lays his left hand over Steve’s. Where their palms lay over the forearm. “I won’t feel bad when you want to wrap your arms around me in our sleep. And I won’t feel bad when I want to cool down and have to take my shirt off. I won’t—“ He hiccups on a wet gasp.

And that’s when Eddie realizes that Steve’s gearing up to cry. He drifts his line of sight downwards, only slightly. Not making eye contact. Because the last thing he wants is for Steve to feel embarrassed about his emotions, too. But he runs his thumb over Steve’s knuckles. Just to have a point of contact. To have something to keep them grounded to the bed.

He takes another gasp. His voice wavers through his words. “I won’t feel bad when I take a shower. Did you know—“ Steve hiccups again. A soft cry leaves him. Eddie leans in closer. Resting his forehead to Steve’s hair. He bounces with another gasp. “—You know that I shower in the dark, Eds?”

“No, baby, I didn’t,” he murmurs.

“I do,” Steve keens, “I do, Eds. Don’t like what I see in the mirror or when I look down at the drain or when I have to wrap a towel around myself,” he continues to explain. His voice is high in the back of his throat. Turning sharp and on the edge of sour. And every part of Eddie is crumbling, dissolving into the mattress. But he doesn’t interrupt. Acknowledges with his touch and the firm press of his cheek on Steve’s head. But nothing more. Steve needs this out. “I don’t like feeling bad,” he’s confessing, “I don’t like feeling this way. Every time I look at myself, it’s like I’m burning. Like I’m on fire. Like I—Like something in me is trying to escape. Like it’s—Like my body is some sort of prison,” he spits. He sucks in a harsh breath. With it, his saliva. A heavy gulp. It’s all pouring out. It’s seeping from him. Eddie can almost taste it. A despair. And through this all, Steve is on the precipice of sobbing. It’s inching closer and closer. The sharp pull of wailing in his chest. “I’m so—“ He groans. “I’m so tired of this, Eddie. I’m so tired of being this way and feeling this way and…and…and looking the way I do. I’m so tired of it—I’m so—“

And then, the sobs come. Wet and burbled from inside of him. Like punches from his mouth. Blowing between his teeth. His air hissing as he tries to bite his tongue. But when he realizes the overcoming pressure rising from inside of him, he opens his mouth, tongue and teeth and all his pink insides, and the sobbing turns to screaming. To wailing. A mourning.

Eddie’s own eyes are wet. He can’t take this. Can’t see Steve like this. A shadow, a shattering thing, something small and fragile and tipping, tipping, tipping. He wants to crumble everything he knows. Wants to go to God, surprisingly, wants to bang on his doors, wants to scream and hiss and spit at him. Wants to ask: “What did you do to him? Why did you make him feel like this?” Because this isn’t fair. This isn’t fair, the way Steve is dissolving and Eddie isn’t. Because, for once in his life, Eddie is comfortable in his own skin. But somebody like Steve, his wonderful and beautiful Steve, is doubting himself. Doubting his looks. His confidence. The things he used to take pride in.

So Eddie gently asks, “Can I hold you, Stevie? Is it okay to touch you?” His chest hurts—a rock hitting his ribs kind of hurt—at the smallness in Steve’s nod.

He wriggles his right arm under Steve’s torso, over his t-shirt, ignoring the way it pulls up to expose Steve’s bare back. Pulls him into the warm line of his own body, turning Steve to be chest to chest with him, and wraps the other arm over Steve’s back. Holding to him tightly. Gently guiding his head into the crook of Eddie’s neck. Letting him wet the skin there. With snot and tears and words. Some akin to: “I’m ugly, Eds.” And others akin to: “I’m wrong. I feel wrong.”

There isn’t anything he can say to soothe this. He’s not sure there are words to say. Other than what he knows. “I got you, sweetheart,” he mutters into Steve’s hair. “I’m right here, love bug. Get it out,” he whispers, “you can be angry and sad, it’s alright.”

Eddie doesn’t move his hands. Doesn’t let them drift to bare skin. The only instance in which he moves either of his palms is to thread one through Steve’s hair. To pet and hold. To untangle the knots in his, now noticeable, unwashed and unbrushed hair. And all he can do is keep Steve to him. His arms limp on Eddie’s body. His back arching with each cry. His nose wet and his cheeks warm and his throat raspy and raw.

The crying gets hoarse after some several minutes, Eddie begins to realize. Steve droops further and further into where their bodies meet. Crying growing into just whimpering into just small hiccups. He doesn’t move his head. Doesn’t say anything. Just stays stuck in where he is.

“I’ve got you, angel,” Eddie breathes. “We’ll be alright.”

Steve releases one more soft cry at that. Then, he murmurs, “Thank you.”

Eddie pulls him in tighter. “No, baby, don’t do that. You don’t need to thank me and you don’t need to apologize. But, can you do one thing?” Steve hums at that. “I want you to listen to me, alright? Just listen to what I have to say, that’s all.” At his nod, Eddie continues. “I believe that one day you won’t feel bad at all. And I also believe that you’re still beautiful despite what you think of yourself. And, before you try and protest that, I’m devoting myself to you. I’m going to tell you every single damn day of the rest of our lives that you are beautiful and gorgeous and pretty. And you deserve to feel good.

“That’s a lot, I know that’s a lot. But I’m telling you the truth. Because you do deserve to feel good. I will help you with that. Whatever you need, I’ll give that to you. You understand that, sweet thing?” He pulls back a tad. Their eyes on one another’s again. Steve looks so exhausted. Wrung out. Defeated. But still, he gives a terse and single nod. That’s enough, though. That’s all that Eddie needs. “Okay,” he mutters, “okay, Steve. What can I do right now?”

Steve sighs and closes his eyes. When he reopens them, they’re clearer and softer. Still tired. Still bloodshot and wet. But they have the smallest amount of determination to them. “Just lay with me for a while. Hold me like this, please?”

He presses a long, warm kiss to the crown of Steve’s head. Murmurs, “Of course. Anything. I’ll do anything to help you feel good.”

There’s a long road ahead. But Eddie will always find the words to tell Steve how gorgeous he is. With every moment in their lives together. And then some. Always then some.

💛—————💛

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #angst and hurt/comfort

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lewis-winters · 11 months ago

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I was just curious but do you have any recs for period dramas about the philippines? I want to expand my period drama watching and im not quite sure where to start

Oh, the monster you've unleashed. YES I do have so many period dramas from and about the Philippines. Unfortunately, not all of them might be accessible to you if you're outside of the Philippines. Some of them are found on Amazon Prime, Netflix, and MUBI though. I'll make sure to put a lil note next to each film if they are. Also! these vary in genre (meaning: not all of them are war films, and some of these are horror films-- because this is me we're talking to, heh). I also have copies of some of these and will make a lil note next to each film if it's available for sharing, though I'll only give the link via DM. Please note, however, that they are all either in Tagalog, Bisaya, and/or other local Philippine Languages and not all of them have subtitles!

I also have very nuanced relationships with all these films, since Philippine History was my undergrad of choice. But to keep this post as brief as possible, I'm not going to talk about them at length. Though I will be including trigger warnings. Also note... some of these movies kinda suck HAAHAHAHA but I had way too much fun watching them so like. Please don't tell me they suck, please. I love them too much.

Also tagging @emmylynnaa because I promised her a similar list.

This is sorted by eras in Philippine History. Enjoy! (under the cut because it got long):

Spanish Occupation Era (1565 to 1898)

GomBurZa (2023) – A film following the GomBurZa, the three native Filipino Roman Catholic priests Gomez, Burgos, and Zamora executed during the latter years of the Spanish colonial era. TW: period typical violence. Furthermore, this is a Jesuit produced film so like. Once again. Take it with a grain of salt.

Jose Rizal (1998) - Jose Rizal's life and works are recounted through a series of non-linear flashbacks which reflect on various aspects of his life - as writer, propagandist, lover, friend, brother, doctor, and the man that inspired a revolution. Available on MUBI. TW: depiction of sexual assault by a priest. I also have a love-hate relationship with this film because on one hand, literally shaped my love of history. On the other hand, it is the MOST idealistic depiction of Jose Rizal ever + very historically inaccurate in many places, please watch this with a grain of salt.

Maria Clara at Ibarra (2022 – 2023) – A series about a girl from the 21st century who is magically transported into Jose Rizal’s famous novels Noli me Tangere and El Filibusterismo (you know, the novels that helped spark the Filipino Revolution against the Spanish). The synopsis sounds cheesy but trust me, it’s very good. Available to watch on the GMA official webpage. I just don’t know if you can access it outside of the country. TW: rape, abuses of the Catholic church, period typical violence, abuses of Spanish colonialists. A personal favorite—the costumes? Divine. And the character arcs are also really lovely. Helps you understand Philippine contemporary culture, too.

Katipunan: TV Mini Series (2013) – A mini-series depicting the creation of the Kataastaasan Kagalang-galang na Katipunan ng mga Anak ng Bayan (or the KKK—no, not the white supremacist group; that’s unfair, by the way, we did it first), the revolutionary organization founded in 1892 by Filipino Nationalists against Spanish Colonialization. Available to watch on the GMA official webpage. I just don’t know if you can access it outside of the country. TW: depictions of rape aftermath by Spanish soldiers, period typical violence, torture, graphic depictions of a corpse. This is a personal favorite of mine.

Hele sa Hiwagang Hapis/A Lullaby to the Sorrowful Mystery (2016) - Andrés Bonifacio is celebrated as the father of the Philippines Revolution against Spanish colonial rule. This eight-hour epic examines this myth, undertaking an expedition into history through various interwoven narrative threads, held together by an exploration of the individual’s role in history. Available on Mubi. TW: it is literally eight hours long. But that’s Lav Diaz for you. I love him, but oh my god is he an acquired taste.

Ang Kababaihan ng Malolos (2014) - The saga of the 20 Filipino women who petitioned for the opening of a school in a time when women weren’t given the chance to do so.

Ganito Kami Noon... Paano Kayo Ngayon? (1976) – Set during the end of Spanish colonization and the start of American colonization. After his mother's death, the simple-minded and naïve Kulas (Christopher De Leon) begins his much-awaited trip to Manila. On his way to Manila, he mindlessly takes on the mission of retrieving a friar's son and bringing him to the friar's residence.

Mallari (2023) - A horror film chronicling the deeds of the first recorded serial killer in the Philippines. This film spans decades, all the way up to present day. It's kinda stupid. Like. Really stupid. That's ok. We watch it because we want to see Piolo Pascual and JC Santos covered in blood. TW: oh my god so many bodies and so much gore.

Filipino-American War and America Occupation (1899 – 1940s) (this era has the best films, actually, if you want a place to start and start strong? start here)

Amigo (2010) - A local leader of a small Filipino barangay must decide whether to keep the peace with the American troops occupying his village or join the insurgency with his brother and son. TW: racism, sexual harassment, graphic depictions of corpses, gore, period typical violence.

Heneral Luna (2015) - Set during the Philippine-American war, Heneral Luna follows the life of one of Philippine History's most brilliant soldier, General Antonio Luna, as he tries to lead his countrymen against colonial masters new and old, and to rise above their own raging disputes to fulfill the promise of the Philippine Revolution. Available on Netflix. TW: short scene depicting the aftermath of sexual assault, period typical violence, and graphic depictions of a corpse. Again, one of my favorites. I have so many happy memories of this film + the fandom it birthed! I miss it sometimes.

Angelito (2018) – The short film that bridges both Heneral Luna and Goyo: Ang Batang Heneral, depicting the brothers Manuel and Jose Bernal – Antonio Luna’s aides-de-camp – and their youngest brother Angel, two days before the General’s assassination. This film you can find on Youtube!

Goyo: Ang Batang Heneral (2019) – The sequel of Heneral Luna, this film follows the story of Gregorio 'Goyo' del Pilar, one of the youngest Generals during the Philippine-American War who fought in the historic Battle of Tirad Pass. Available on Netflix. TW: short scenes of torture, period typical violence, and graphic depictions of a corpse. Again, a personal favorite for the same reasons stated above. Though it’s not as strong as Heneral Luna, I gotta say.

Ang Larawan (2017) - In a musical tale about standing together against materialism, two impoverished sisters anguish over whether or not to sell a painting, the final masterpiece by their recluse father. A bitter struggle for survival against betrayal set in pre-World War II Manila. A personal favorite, oh my god. This film. Oh my god, this film.

World War 2 and its aftermath (1940 – 1950)

Quezon’s Game (2018) - In 1938, Philippine President Manuel L. Quezon, military adviser Dwight D. Eisenhower, along with other notable figures, set out to rescue Jewish refugees fleeing Nazi Germany. Quezon simultaneously deals with a relapse of tuberculosis. Available on Amazon Prime. TW: talk of genocide and short scenes depicting the murder of Jewish people by the Nazis.

Tatlong Taong Walang Dios (1976) - A woman falls in love with a Japanese soldier during the Japanese Occupation in the Philippines; the whole town turns against her. TW: rape. Think Malena.

Oro, Plata, Mata (1982) - Set in the Philippine island of Negros during World War II, it tells the story of how two hacendero families cope with the changes brought about by the war. TW: rape

Kusina (2016) – Her kitchen. The silent witness to the life and love of Juanita. It is her sanctuary, the place where she creates dishes for her family, friends, even enemies and strangers. Through cooking, she gets to know the people around her. TW: violent child birth, death of mother in child birth, sexual harassment by Japanese soldiers. This spans multiple decades, all the way up to Martial Law.

In My Mother’s Skin (2023) - Stranded in the Philippines during World War II, a young girl finds that her duty to protect her dying mother is complicated by her misplaced trust in a beguiling, flesh-eating fairy. Available on Amazon Prime. TW: body horror, gore, explicit depictions of a corpse, period typical violence.

Markova: Comfort Gay (2000) – A coming of age drama film loosely based on the life of Walter Dempster Jr., the last surviving Filipino “comfort gay” (male sex slaves for the Imperial Japanese Army) from World War II. TW: CSA, wartime systemic rape, rape.

Comfort Women: A Cry for Justice (1994) – The story of how two sisters and the rest of the women of Sta. Monica are forced into sex slavery by Japanese soldiers during World War 2. TW: wartime systemic rape, rape, and period typical violence.

Seklusyon (2016) - In 1947, a group of deacons (aspiring priests) on their last week of training are sent to a remote monastery to live in seclusion for seven days to protect them from the devil, who on the last few days of training attempts to break the will of deacons to make them reconsider their choice of becoming priests. During their seclusion, a little girl named Anghela, believed by locals to be a living saint because of her healing abilities, appears at the monastery seeking refuge. Available on Amazon. TW: pedophilia, gore, body horror, Catholicism, religious horror.

Corazon: Ang Unang Aswang (2012) - A psychological thriller film detailing the psychological breakdown of a woman struggling with infertility in post-war Philippines. If you want to see women go feral, this is fun.

Martial Law (1970 – 1980) (actually, you know what? I lied. This era is the era with the best films. God, these are CLASSICS and are the ones that’ll help you understand contemporary Philippine culture the most; definitely start here)

Manila, sa mga Kuko ng Liwanag (1975) - Júlio Madiaga, a 'provinciano', arrives in Manila to search for his beloved, Ligaya. TW: coerced sex work, sexual abuse. Once again, a Filipino cinema classic.

Insiang (1976) - After a teenager is raped by her mother's boyfriend, she sets out to exact revenge on anyone who has hurt her. TW: I mean. It says it right there. Though it’s not actually shown on screen, it is very heavily implied. She doesn’t die in the end, if you’re wondering.

Dekada ’70 (2002) - A middle-class Filipino family struggles to survive in the era of dictatorship. This is a fucking classic in Filipino cinema. Available on MUBI. TW: sexual harrassment, discussion of torture, depictions of wounds and beatings, period typical violence. Martial Law was rough.

Aparisyon (2012) – A psychological drama film set in early 1970s, where the story about the nuns in the period immediately preceding the declaration of martial law by Ferdinand Marcos. The film’s director, Isabel Sandoval, is a transgender woman and an absolute visionary. Her other films Senorita (2011) and Lingua Franca (2019) are also very good, please check it out. All films are available for streaming through the Criterion Channel. TW: rape, religious trauma, period typical violence, Catholicism.

Lihis (2013) - Set in the 70’s during the darkest hours of Philippine History, we follow the story of two young NPA warriors who find themselves entangled in a web of frustration, despair and victory as they fight not only for democracy but also their love for each other. Available on MUBI. TW: Infidelity.

Barber’s Tales (2014) - In a rural town in the Philippines during the Marcos dictatorship, the newly widowed Marilou inherits the town's only barbershop from her husband- a business that has been passed down by generations of men in her husband's family. With no other means of support, she musters the courage to run the barbershop.

Dahling Nick (2015) - Dahling Nick is a docu-drama exploring the life and works of National Artist for Literature Nick Joaquin, who only accepted the National Artist Award on the condition that the Marcos administration release a well-known writer who was being unjustly detained during Martial Law. I love Nick Joaquin. He’s shaped my understanding of the Magical Realist genre far more than any of his contemporaries have. This film is notoriously difficult to get your hands on, so I suggest going to read his anthology by Penguin Classics called the Tropical Gothic instead!

Respeto (2017) - Hendrix is a poor aspiring rapper who wants to make a name for himself in the underground rap battle scene and gain respect in the community. After attempting to rob a second-hand bookstore in the neighborhood, he is discovered by the owner, Doc, an old poet with a haunted past as a dissident. Not necessarily period, but definitely has its roots in Martial Law.

Liway (2018) – A film about the kip, a young boy growing up in a prison as the son of anti-Marcos dissident Cecilia Flores-Oebanda, better known as Commander Liway, during the waning days of the Marcos dictatorship. It is currently streaming on Youtube!

The Kingmaker (2019) - is a 2019 documentary film written and directed by Lauren Greenfield, featuring the political career of Imelda Marcos with a focus on the Marcos family's efforts to rehabilitate the family's image and to return to political power, including her plans to see her son, Bongbong, become President of the Philippines, and the alliance that Bongbong and Imee Marcos established with Rodrigo Duterte in his bid to win the 2016 Philippine presidential election. Available on Youtube! if outside of the Philippines, use VPN.

1980s – 2000s Philippines

Misteryo sa Tuwa (1984) - The fortunes of three impoverished friends and their families abruptly change after an airplane crashes in a nearby mountain.

Alpha Kappa Omega Batch ’81 (1982) – A psychological drama film depicting the titular fraternity's harsh initiation of new batch members as seen through the eyes of pre-med student Sid Lucero. TW: hazing, torture, psychological torture. It’s fucked up, actually.

Himala (1982) – During a total eclipse Elsa, a young girl from rural Philippines, allegedly witnesses an apparition of the Virgin Mary on top of the hill where, as an infant, she was found and adopted by Saling. Said visions change her life and cause a sensation hysteria in a poor, isolated northern village in the midst of drought. TW: rape, religious fanaticism, religious trauma.

Adela (2008) - The story of Adela, which takes place in the span of one day, is a heartbreaking story of a woman who longs for the company of her loved ones. This isn’t actually period. This film just breaks my heart. And of course, it has acting legend Anita Linda in it. How could I not recommend it?

Now Showing (2008) - Rita is named after a famous American movie star whom her late, former actress grandmother once adored. She lives in one of Manila’s oldest districts with her mother and aunt. Years later, she is still the same girl enamoured with television, now tending to her aunt’s stall selling pirated DVDs.

Elegy to the Visitor from the Revolution (2011) - A woman from the end of the 19th century visits modern day Philippines and observes three interwoven stories: that of a prostitute, a group of criminals and a musician. This is another Lav Diaz one. It’s long.

K’na The Dreamweaver (2014) - K’na is a young woman coming into her own in the mountains of South Cotabato, where the T’boli live, overlooking the majestic and mystical Lake Sebu. She is part of the royal family of the South bank of the lake, part of the clan that was banished from the North Bank centuries ago after what the elders call The Great Betrayal. At a young age, K’na, is trained in the art of weaving the T’bolit’nalak. The design of the t’nalak fabric comes from the visions granted by Fu Dalu, the goddess of abaca, only to deserving women who become dreamweavers. K’na’s grandmother, Be Lamfey, is the village’s last master dreamweaver. When Be Lamfey dies, the gift of dreamweaving is passed to K’na and her father, LobongDitan, decides to put an end to the warring clans of Lake Sebu once and for all by arranging a marriage between K’na and Kagis, the heir to the throne of North bank. Meanwhile, K’na has fallen in love with Silaw, a childhood friend whose family supplies the finest abaca fibers to the dreamweavers. Silaw leaves love messages for her by tying bits of abaca thread to a tree outside K’na’s window. As the marriage grows near, a revolution brews among those who do not believe in the union of the two royal clans.

Smaller and Smaller Circles (2017) - Two Jesuit priests, Gus Saenz and Jerome Lucero perform forensic work to solve the mystery revolving around the murders of young boys in Payatas, one of Metro Manila's biggest slum areas. While dealing with the systematic corruption of the government, church, and the elite, the two priests delve into criminal profiling, crime scene investigation, and forensic analysis to solve the killings, and eventually, find the murderer. Available on Netflix. TW: child death, talk of child sexual abuse at the hands of the Catholic Church and at the hands of teachers, graphic depictions of a corpse, film also triggering to folks who suffer from claustrophobia.

Billie and Emma (2018) – An LGBT coming of age story set in the mid-1990s featuring two teenaged girls Billie and Emma as they grapple with topics such as sexuality, family, religion, unplanned pregnancy, and the uncertainty of the future.

#philippine cinema #filipino cinema #film recommendations #film rec #filipino period dramas #period dramas #philippine history #filipino history #please heed the tags there's a lot of violence in there #we have a very violent history

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