#the latest results have been interesting
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r0semultiverse · 11 months ago
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Two Truths & a Lie Round 7
For people who can't see polls: Pick the lie.
My face has been in an art gallery exhibit.
Almost had relations with a GILF.
Smoked a joint once & had the best McDonalds of my life.
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ithebookhoarder · 8 months ago
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Special Delivery (Spencer Reid x F!Reader)
Description: Something's different about Reid and no-one knows what. However, a surprise delivery to the BAU may just have the answer...
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Warnings: Food references, mentions of mental health, mentions of medical procedures, references to smutty behaviour, Spencer being adorable
Masterlist
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“Ok. Am I the only one who’s noticed something’s different with Reid lately?” Morgan remarked, watching as the said boy-genuis made his way across the bullpen and over to his desk. 
“Yeah,” Emily hummed, watching the young agent over the rim of coffee cup. She had to admit it - as much as it annoyed her - Morgan was right; Spencer has definitely been acting different. If anything, she was surprised it had taken them all this long to say anything. 
Normally, they were all over each other the moment they noticed anything even remotely different about each other. Hell, she’d barely taken a step off the elevator, after getting an extra few inches cut off at her latest haircut, before the team were quizzing her about possible life changes and whether or not they needed to be worried about her. 
It was a hazard of working with profilers for a living; it was almost impossible to keep anything a secret. No wonder they were all intrigued and slightly confused by the fact that none of them had been able to pinpoint what was going on with their friend. 
The most notable difference was the gradual disappearance of the dark circles under his eyes. Reid also seemed happier in general, less quiet and reserved when talking to others, and it was starting to make agents talk. 
Morgan and Emily stood up straighter as JJ walked over to join the unofficial gossip session. She took one look at the pair and knew immediately what they were whispering about. 
“Are you talking about Reid?”
“Oh yeah,” Morgan grinned, “my money’s on him having finally found someone.”
Emily choked, seemingly as a result of inhaling her coffee at the grand statement. “What?”
“Oh, come on, Miss ‘super spy’. Just look at him,” he teased. “He’s been distracted. He’s all goo-goo eyed and he’s been leaving this place at a normal hour. Like… tell me that doesn’t scream ‘I got a date’.”
“What? It could be loads of things. It doesn’t have to be a date, right JJ?”
“He’s probably just happy. We’ve all been getting more sleep lately and our paperwork is non-existent at the moment,” JJ murmured, reaching past the pair of them to grab for the coffee pot. She was clearly doing her best to try and put this line of questioning to rest. She’d always been the first to protect the younger agent she now saw as a little brother. “Besides, we all know he’s not interested in dating, he hasn’t been since…. Well, you know.”
Morgan groaned. “But what about the secret texts, JJ!” he protested, ignoring the look Emily shot him in return. “He’s been glued to that phone of his and keeps giggling like a school kid. Then there’s the lunches! I know he’s always been organised and likes things a certain way, but damn. His lunches have been like next level - and actually healthy? And I swear he’s had jello like every day.”
JJ rolled her eyes. “You’re basing your profile on jello? Is that it?” 
“Well, no I mean… did you not hear the part about the texting and the taking secret calls and the fact he didn’t come out for drinks last night-”
“-Can’t we just be glad for him? Whatever is going on, it’s good for him. Let’s just drop it, ok? He’ll tell us when he’s ready if there’s anything to share.”
“JJ’s right,” Emily echoed. “Reid’s just … happy. End of.”
By the way Morgan frowned it looked like it definitely was not the end of this conversation, but he never got the chance to argue. In fact, he was interrupted as the main doors opened next to them and a rather lost looking receptionist hurried through. 
Normally, this wouldn’t have been worth noticing but all three of them spun around at the sound of him calling out the name, “Agent Reid? uh… Is Agent Reid here?”
“Oh, uh, here!” Spencer shouted, soundly vaguely like he was taking roll call. It didn’t help that he shot his arm up in the air too, almost falling off his desk chair as he lurched to his feet and hurried over. “That’s… that’s me - and it’s Dr Reid, but it doesn’t matter. How can I help?”
“Oh, uh, there’s a Y/N at reception for you,” the unfortunate messenger managed, gesturing back the way they’d came. “I told them to wait whilst I came to check with you as they’re not on your visitor list-”
Spencer didn’t even let the poor man finish. He was already racing for the door before the man had even made it to the end of the sentence. Needless to say, the others were quick to follow, with Morgan smugly boasting “told you soooo” as he went. 
There was no way on earth they were missing this and considering Hotch and Rossi hadn’t arrived yet it wasn’t like they were about to get their asses handed to them for missing their briefing either. 
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Despite the amount Spencer had told you about the BAU, you were still surprised by how different the FBI offices were to what you’d imagined. 
The offices were larger and the sheer number of people walking about in suits and carrying a side arm made you feel even more nervous, and that was already a problem considering you were stood there wearing neon blue scrubs, embroidered with jungle animals on the pocket. 
You were like a walking, flashing sign, screaming ‘outsider - does not work here’.  Thankfully, you weren’t going to be there long. You were only swinging by on your way to work, hoping to catch your utterly perfect - and utterly forgetful - boyfriend, before the start of your shift. 
Speaking of Spencer, you had only been standing there for possibly five minutes when you saw him barreling through the doors towards you. 
“Hey, Spence-“
“Y/N? Honey? What’s going on?” he gushed, hurrying over and taking your face in his hands. You could see his wide eyes frantically scanning every inch of you, looking for some kind of problem or sign that you were not ok. “Is everything alright? What are you doing here?”
You felt your cheeks warm at the sudden display of concern, very much aware of the scene your wonderful boyfriend was making. Spencer wasn’t normally the most affectionate in public, preferring to save those rare moments for when the two of you were alone. The fact he was so worried about what might have brought you to the FBI on a Tuesday morning was touching and made your heart swell. 
“I’m fine, Spence. Don’t worry-” 
“Then what are you doing here?” 
“You forgot something,” you soothed, pulling back and reaching into your satchel. It was impossible to miss the way his face reddened as you pulled out a neatly labeled Dr Who Tupperware by way of explanation. “I’m here because you were in such a rush this morning that you forgot your lunch.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, ‘oh’,” you teased. “I couldn’t exactly let you go hungry so I thought I’d drop it off on my way to work. I don’t start till later as I’m covering Amelia’s shift as she’s visiting her sister in Boston, so I thought I’d swing by.”
Sure, Spencer was an adult and you could have let him just buy something from the cafeteria or order something in for lunch, but considering how much effort he had gone to to cook with you the day before you felt bad letting it go to waste. 
He’d been so proud of the way the recipe had turned out, following the instructions and your guidance with extreme precision and care. The result had been a rather tasty looking dish - and it had the added benefit of being healthy too. You were always worried that Spencer seemed to think fast food, like Pizza, was a food group. Then again, he had been forced to be an adult pretty fast and had been in college so young that it wasn’t a surprise that no-one had been there to teach him about cooking and eating right. He had been too focused on his studies to even think about anything else.  
It was something he had been working on since you’d got together and now cooking had become one of your favourite date night activities. It didn’t hurt that you often ended up spilling food all over yourselves and needing to shower together - it was just a lovely bonus. In fact, your screensaver was now a picture of you and Spencer, covered in flour, and beaming ear to ear. 
“Thank you, that… that’s so nice,” Spencer stammered, “but I feel bad. You didn’t need to go out of your way and bring it to me.”
“As I say, it’s on my way to work. It’s no trouble.”
“Well, still-“
“Hey, pretty boy!” 
Spencer froze. 
“You gonna introduce us to your friend, or what?”
Spencer opened his mouth but instantly closed it again. You knew by the way he rolled his eyes and began muttering under his breath that whoever had shouted that had definitely been talking to him. 
You couldn’t help but giggle. “Pretty boy, huh?” 
“Don’t ask,” he whined, taking a deep breath as you looked over his shoulder and saw a small group of people now making their way towards you. “I should probably mention that I wasn’t sure how comfortable you were with me mentioning you, so I haven’t told anyone about us yet and those idiots are some of my team and I would say ‘run’ but they’re all faster than me.”
“Ah… I see. So I’m guessing that one is Morgan?” 
“Yes.”
“Well, no time like the present,” you cheered, turning and waving at the approaching trio. “Hi. Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N - Spencer’s girlfriend.”
“Wow. A girlfriend?” cooed Morgan, reaching over to pull you into a hug before the other two could stop him. To their credit, they looked slightly embarrassed by the display but they were clearly too interested in your identity to care. “And a doctor to boot? Didn’t know he had it in him. I’m Derek Morgan.”
“Oh, I worked that out. It’s good to finally meet you all.” 
The others were quick to echo the sentiment, with JJ and Emily quickly introducing themselves in tandem. They were also quick to invite you inside the office for some coffee, but thankfully you weren’t lying when you said you had to get to work. 
“You know how it is. People to take care of, medical cases to solve, lives to save - same old, same old. All I’m missing is a snazzy badge and I could be an FBI agent.” 
“Ha ha.” Spencer’s smile was genuine as you stole a kiss before making a dash for your car. However, you could see the nerves in his eyes at being left alone to face the great inquisition that now awaited him following the discovery of your existence. You were pretty sure the entire BAU would know about you before it even hit lunchtime. “I’ll see you later, ok?” 
“Of course. Just let me know if you’re coming home or if you’re off saving the world in another state - otherwise I can’t promise I won’t eat all the leftovers before you get back.” 
He chuckled. “Will do.” 
With that, you bid the others goodbye, making sure to agree when they asked (more like insisted) that you came to their family dinner on Friday night at none other than Rossi’s house. The rest of the team were going to be begging to meet you after this, and they were all bringing their families along too. 
If Spencer wasn’t comfortable with you going you were pretty sure the team would believe it if you said you’d got called into a last minute surgery, but you’d check later when you both returned to the apartment you now called your home. Either way, you were going to have to make something to take with you, just in case. 
As your grandpa had always said, there was no quicker way to someone’s heart than through their stomach. Or, as in Spencer's case, with an unlimited supply of Jello...
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niningtori · 4 months ago
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for the hope of it all | part one
part two
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pairing(s): choi beomgyu x you, choi soobin x you
summary: you've been in love with beomgyu since the first time you saw him, but he sees you as nothing more than a good friend and faithful wingwoman. when he asks you to help him catch another girl, who just so happens to be one of your closest friends, things get complicated.
genre: ANGST, melodrama, romance, smut (mdni)
warnings: super rushed to meet a deadline, not proofread, smut (mdni), beomgyu is a fucking asshole, manipulative!gyu, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering (vaginal), dirty talk, praise, if i missed anything lmk!
word count: 7.2k
notes: whew... i couldn't just post a fic based on a song called AUGUST after august ends (even tho there's only a few minutes left where i am idccc) anyway this isn't the best thing in the world but i still ask that u all don't be mean to me <3 feedback is appreciated n loved as well :)
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beomgyu really likes her — like, really— and who can blame him? you certainly can’t. chaewon is a lovely, lovely girl, so it should come as no surprise when beomgyu asks you to, in his words, help him bag her. you’re not one with a particularly strong character at the best of times, so when he practically begs you to convince one of your closest friends that he’s actually not the heartbreaking manwhore he definitely is, you can’t find it in yourself to say no.
it doesn't help that he has enough charisma to charm even the most indifferent target he sets his eyes on, it doesn't help that he's so handsome it makes everyone either want him or want to be him, and it most certainly doesn't help that you've been in love with the boy for the entire time that you've known him. him asking absolutely anything of you would result in you relenting, so when he asks for something as seemingly inconsequential as setting him up with a mutual friend, accepting it is a matter of course. does it hurt your heart to see him pining after someone else when you basically consider him as your soulmate? of course. but his happiness means more to you than your own. if she makes him happy, then so be it.
that's what you tell yourself, at least.
-
beomgyu doesn’t know that you love him — he can’t possibly know — or else he’d treat you differently, right? you don’t want that. you don’t want anything to change, at least not in the disastrous way you anticipate confessing your love to him would go, so you’ve kept your feelings close to your chest to keep him from suspecting anything. you think you’ve gotten pretty good at concealing your feelings. for example, you laugh when he tells you about his sexual escapades, and you don’t hesitate to give him advice on how to woo the girls who are wary of his lasciviousness. you only want to show him the good parts of you, carefully tucking any ugly seeds of jealousy or sadness away from his prying eyes.
the thing is, though, beomgyu is not stupid; and to your never-ending misery, you are not the greatest actress. he can see the crestfallen look on your face for the split second before you can contort your features into a smile. he can hear the tremble in your voice as you force out a laugh. with his godforsaken intuition, he can sense the hesitation in your movement when you playfully push him aside as he over-dramatically recounts his latest raunchy fuck. 
all of this has no discernible consequence, though. if anything, your feelings have been his faithful friend and ally when it comes to conspiring with you to land whatever girl piques his interest at the moment. you may not be a prospective partner, but you are a great wingwoman, he’ll give you that much. and that’s exactly what he needs when dealing with chaewon, who has proven to be a particularly tough nut to crack. he doesn’t usually go for people he would consider friends, if only because he doesn’t like dealing with the messy aftermath, but her refusal to look his way is just too entertaining. he has no earthly idea why this cat and mouse game intrigues him the way it does, but he’s hooked like none other, especially because her reasons for pulling away when she’s definitely as attracted to him as he is to her are unclear. maybe she just doesn’t want to seem easy? whatever it is, he likes it. he likes her.
-
“so what's the plan?” soobin asks. 
“what do you mean?” you blink as you turn towards him, effectively taken out of your daze. you've been staring at a new instagram picture of beomgyu for at least ten minutes now. there's not much going on in it — it's just a candid taehyun took of him — but you can't stop the yearning you feel in your heart as you wish you had been the one to take it, instead.
“i mean, what's your big plan to ‘help’ him this time?” there’s a trace of resentment in his tone as he puts air quotes around “help”. you know he thinks you're just wasting your time on a boy who will never feel the same way you do, but what can you do? you still love him.
“i’m… i’m just going to talk him up to chae, no big deal,” you say rather unconvincingly, because it is a big deal. it’s the biggest deal in the world to you.
“and what are you gonna say? ‘hey, i know you know beomgyu is garbage, but deep down, he’s actually not garbage even though, even deeper down, he really is?’” his words are sarcastic and, for lack of a better term, downright hateful. 
“he’s not garbage, binnie,” you chastise. “he’s actually really sweet once you get to know him.”
“sweet? sweet how, exactly?” he sneers. you just sigh and shake your head. beomgyu is a frequent point of contention in your friendship with soobin, but you don’t know how to overcome it. mostly, arguments surrounding him devolve into conversations like the one you’re having right now. 
“he puts on a tough act, but he’s not really like that on the inside,” you insist. “you just don’t know him like i do.”
“and thank god for that,” he snorts, and you frown. you can tell he feels guilty by the way his expression immediately softens. 
“hey, i’m sorry,” he says, tucking your hair behind your ear. “i just don’t like to see you hurting.”
“i’m not hurting,” you lie. “i’m totally fine. it’s just… i just want to see him happy.” you actually do mean that last part. beomgyu, though seemingly carefree, is actually a lot more insecure and sensitive than one might think. you know this because he’s shown you that side of him many, many times, which must mean that he trusts you like no one else. you are honored to be the one he feels comfortable with, and even if it never amounts to anything more than that, you’re thankful you get to see how he really is. 
“and you think being with a new girl every week will make him happy?” he softly asks, no edge to his voice, but his words hurt even more than they did before.
“it's different this time, binnie. i'm serious. i've never seen him like this before. i think he really likes her.” and the words almost kill you to say, but you mean them, anyway. 
“okay,” he relents. “just do what you want to do. i’ll be there for you no matter what.” 
“thank you,” you reply with a small smile, before putting your nose back into your phone and staring at beomgyu’s pictures again. you don’t catch it, but soobin sighs as he watches you. 
-
you’ve been trying really, really hard. usually, all you have to do is talk about good points about beomgyu, and women fall for it hook, line, and sinker. chaewon is not most women, though, and she makes that abundantly clear with the polite smiles and airy laughs she gives you when you try to bring up beomgyu. 
you don't get it. if you had beomgyu’s attention, you’d never let it go, so it makes no sense to you how someone could have it without taking the opportunity to seize it. if it were you, you’d seize it. if it were you, you'd tell him you’ve loved him since the first time you saw him. if it were you — well, it doesn't really matter, does it? because it isn't you. still, you can’t help but dream.
the sentiment that it will never be you becomes clearer and clearer as you watch beomgyu try to initiate conversation with chaewon at his very own house party you are currently attending. you watch from the sidelines as they sit uncomfortably close together, legs flush against one another, as beomgyu wraps his arm around her shoulder and pulls her in to whisper in her ear. you like to think you’re content with him being with her even if it means you’ll be without him, but it’s difficult to feel that way when you actually see it playing out before you. your heart feels like stone weighing heavily in your chest as she giggles at whatever he says, and you think that things might start looking up for him before her smile suddenly melts into a little frown. 
without warning, she pries his arm off of her and gives him a perfunctory smile before standing up and smoothing out her skirt. then, she grabs her drink from the coffee table and he's left alone. his previously delighted expression is now filled with irritation and disappointment. you're still staring at him, just trying to get a read on the situation as you're left reeling, and before you know it, he's looking up at you. you're a little embarrassed at being caught, but you realize you can play your intrigue off as objectively analyzing the situation in order to help him better. surely he’ll fall for that, right? every time you say something similar, he buys it with no further questions.
he makes eye contact with you then nods towards his room as a silent plea to talk to him in private. if someone were to ask you how you’re able to deduce all of that from one look alone, you’d probably say it’s because you know beomgyu like the back of your hand — and maybe you do, but it’s like a subconsciously trained reaction more than anything. just as you know what beomgyu will do next, he knows you’ll understand his seemingly innocuous gestures. 
you head up the stairs and beomgyu shuts his bedroom door behind you. you prepare to launch into your readymade explanation as to why you were rubbernecking earlier, but he speaks before you can say anything at all.
“why isn’t it working?” he huffs. “did you talk to her like i asked you to?”
“yes, of course i did!” you eagerly insist. you would never lie to beomgyu — well, not about this, at least. your secret feelings are another story. 
“then why does she keep rejecting me?” he huffs. you wish you could answer him. truly, you do. you scramble for the right words, but you sincerely can't wrap your head around her logic, or lack thereof. 
he’s still waiting for an answer, though, so you think back to the recent conversations you’ve had with soobin, and you realize there’s only one plausible conclusion. 
“she just doesn’t know you enough, beoms. if she knew how you really are and how much you like her, she wouldn't act this way; but honestly, she probably thinks you’re just messing with her,” you explain, and you hope beyond hope that he doesn’t take it the wrong way. you don’t want to hurt his feelings by suggesting that his (newly) former playboy ways could be ruining his chances with her.
beomgyu’s feelings, of course, are not hurt. in fact, he just feels more annoyed than anything else. it’s really fucking irritating how he can’t seem to get a read on her or her intentions. she likes him, he can definitely tell, so what’s the problem with him having a messy past? it’s clear that it doesn’t bother you. well, it does, but in a different way. you’d forgive his previous transgressions in a heartbeat if it meant that he’d look your way, so why can’t she be the same? but then, he supposes that comparing someone as lovesick as you are to a normal girl is a bit unfair. 
but why are you so lovesick? it’s obvious that he’s handsome and funny, so falling for him is only natural, but your devotion is on another level. not only that, but you’re devoted in spite of the fact that he clearly wants nothing to do with you. in all honesty, it’s almost like you love him even more when you see him chasing after somebody else... then suddenly, the solution is clear. he has to make her think he doesn’t want her; and the easiest way to do that is to pretend he’s interested in someone else. in the same vein, who better else to pretend with than one of chaewon’s closest friends? you’re absolutely perfect for the job.
beomgyu’s demeanor goes from irritated to self-satisfied, and it puzzles you to no end. maybe he figured out a way to show his true feelings for her? but then why is he looking at you with such intensity? he’s never looked at you this way in the many years that you’ve known him. wait, did he realize something?  please, god, don’t let that be the case. you really don’t think you can —
and your train of thought is stopped when beomgyu strides over to you and locks the door behind you. you look up at him with confusion in your eyes before you finally register what that intense gaze of his really is: predatory.
suddenly, his lips are on yours and you’re holding back a squeal. your eyes widen as he cups his big hands around your cheeks and pulls you in even closer. he tastes like alcohol, which is to be expected, but there's a certain uniqueness to his taste that you can't really put into words; and you’re able to taste it even more as his tongue enters your mouth. you groan at the action, and surprisingly, he does, too. 
you always assumed kissing beomgyu would make you feel like everything was finally right in the world, and it does — it really, sincerely does — but there’s also a certain spark you were not anticipating. something a lot more fiery, and it shoots straight to your core as your tongues tangle together lasciviously. beomgyu seems to know this, and he smirks into the kiss before trailing his warm mouth down your neck. you gasp at the sensation, which just makes him laugh. 
his hands have traveled from your cheeks to your chest, one staying there to grab at your tits while the other one carelessly finds its way up your skirt. 
“so wet,” he whispers in awe when he rubs his fingers against your soaked panties. “is this all because of me?” you feel your cheeks warm and you’re stammering out your next words.
“w-well, i —” 
“is this all because of me?” he repeats, and you give him a feeble nod before covering your face in shame.
“cute,” he snickers, and your previously warm cheeks are now scorching to the touch. 
he moves your panties to the side and rubs against your sensitive clit, which sends pulsations through your entire body, but that’s nothing in comparison to how you feel when he presses a finger into your dripping hole. 
“you’re so tight,” he whispers, lust clearly written all over his face at the prospect of being in your pussy relatively soon; but he wants to enjoy this, he wants to enjoy the way your face screws up as he presses his finger so deep, he’s hitting places previously untouched. he slowly pulls it out, grazing your most sensitive spot with ease before adding another digit in, making you almost groan from the stretch. you bite your lip to avoid making such a sound, but beomgyu pays your attempted discretion no mind as he starts to hammer his fingers into you at a brutal pace. 
it doesn’t take long for you to come undone around his skilled fingers, and once you’re done pulsating around him, he takes them out for a taste. 
“so good,” he remarks, and though your breathing is heavy and your eyes are hazy, you still have it in you to feel embarrassed. he takes your smaller hand in his and leads you to his messy bed, carelessly sweeping every loose item — a t-shirt here, an old cd there — off of it in one go. he lays you down and hungrily licks his lips once he strips you down until you’re fully unclothed. 
you’re feeling extremely small in this moment. you know beomgyu has had his pick of the litter when it comes to women, so you can’t help but wonder how you fare in comparison to the literal bombshells he’s been known to take home. mostly, though, you wonder how you compare to chaewon, as awful as that sounds. if you really think about it, there’s no comparison to be made, really. she’s her, and you’re you. what else is there to say, honestly? still, you’re comforted by the thought that you are the one underneath him right now, not her, and he does not seem disappointed in the slightest if the tent in his jeans means anything at all.
before you can think too much about it, he’s practically tearing his shirt off and you can’t help but stare. his torso is lean and a little paler than the rest of him, probably due to the lack of sun. objectively speaking, he’s no greek god or anything similar, but to you, he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. if he notices your awed reaction, he doesn’t say anything or really care, because he is simply too busy studying how perfect you seem to look under his dimmed lights. again, he is delighted at the prospect of being inside of you very soon.
he unzips his jeans and slides them, along with his boxers, off of his slim thighs and you can finally see him completely. his cock is a red so deep it’s nearly purple, with evidence of his lust leaking out of its flared tip. you’ve heard a lot about beomgyu’s physique from stories, his and his hookups’ alike, but nothing prepared you for the real thing. you’re not a virgin or anything, but you’re still unsure of how you’re meant to fit him inside of you. and you have no idea how you’re supposed to approach the subject. 
beomgyu does not seem to understand your internal battle, though, because he wastes no time in lining himself up with your entrance. before he pushes in, though, he drags his cock along your soaking wet seam just to coat himself in your slick. when he feels he can’t take any more of his own teasing, he begins to push in.
“j-jesus christ!” he exclaims as he tries to push his tip through your entrance. “are you a virgin or some shit?”
“nngh — n-no! i-i’m not. i’ve — mmh — i’ve had boyfriends before,” you say as best as you can while dealing with the feeling of him literally fucking you open. you’re worried he’s not enjoying himself in light of his outburst and his decidedly strained expression. 
“god, s-so tight,” he drawls. “feels so goddamn good.” he draws his hips back before pushing in again, further this time, and his words of praise seem to comfort you somehow, because he’s able to sheathe himself completely in you. 
he groans when he feels your gummy walls wildly contracting around him — unsure of what to do with the pleasurable intrusion and working tirelessly to simultaneously push him out and pull him in. you, on the other hand, feel nothing but full. you’re so full you ache, so after a few moments of adjusting, your watery eyes are filled with an insatiable sense of pleading. 
“you okay?” he asks, actually somewhat sweetly.
“y-yes — ah — i just feel w-weird,” you say. “feel so — fuck — full.” your seemingly innocent words drive him to the brink of insanity, so with reddened eyes, he grabs your hips so hard, you know he’ll leave marks in his wake, and without warning he begins drilling into you.
his thrusts are not calculated or intentional in any sense — they’re rough and fast and show his desperation. why he’s so desperate, he has no idea. beomgyu is sleazy even on a good day, so women come a dime a dozen, but he feels an unquenchable need he feels will only be satisfied if he continues to fuck you like a man gone mad. so he does.
your breasts bounce with every thrust and while he wants to grab one, his thirst only makes him want to go even deeper in you, so he employs his hands to manhandling you into a mating press. the new position has him going even deeper, and you can feel him hitting your cervix with each nasty snap of his hips. tears at the sheer feeling of being overwhelmed spring in your eyes and you have to clamp your hand over your lips to keep from crying out.
“let me hear you,” he pleads while gently moving your hand from your mouth and not-so-gently fucking you like a breeding whore, and he’s not sure if he’s saying it because he wants to make sure chaewon hears or just because he desperately wants to hear you for himself. 
“fuck!” you exclaim, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. “s-so big!”
“oh, sweetheart,” he rambles, “who were you fucking before? they didn’t deserve this tight little pussy. they didn’t fuck you like you deserve to be fucked — like a good little whore.” 
“‘m n-not a whore,” you tearily insist, somehow convinced that he means his words. you’re not completely inexperienced, but you’re not a whore, right?
but your innocence only makes him wanna ruin you more, claim you completely. 
“you’re taking cock so well, but you wanna tell me you’re not a whore?” he snickers meanly, and you feel so delirious, you find yourself agreeing with what he says. 
the lewd sounds of skin meeting skin and the sharp knocking of the headboard fill the room, and the heat you feel building up inside of you has you seeing stars. beomgyu pulls you in for a sloppy, wet kiss as he finally lets one of your legs down in order to snake his hand against your clit, which he languidly rolls in the midst of his pistoning in and out of you. 
“are you gonna come for me?” he asks as his lips part from yours. “are you gonna come all over my cock?” 
“y-yes, please,” you sob. “wanna come!”
“then do it, baby. let go for me,” and with the way he’s rolling your clit while fucking into you, you can’t help but comply.
he hisses when he feels you contracting around him, tightening up even more than before and pulling him in impossibly deeper. that’s all it takes, really, before he comes undone himself and sprays his thick, hot load into your spasming pussy. 
he collapses on top of you, and both of you take a few moments just to catch your breath before he pulls out of you with a wince. he’s absolutely enthralled by the way the mix of both of you two’s cum leaks out of you as soon as he does so. he’s almost tempted to swirl it back in and plug you up, but his rational side stops him before he can do anything he’ll regret. 
“are you on the pill?” he asks, and you nod.
“good, go ahead and get a plan b, too. just in case,” he says with a quick kiss to your forehead, and you nod with a delirious smile even in spite of his pedantic words. you’re just so happy you got to sleep with him, be closer to him.
“oh, i almost forgot to actually tell you,” he laughs. “i think fucking you will make chaewon jealous. i think we put on a pretty good show tonight, don’t you?” 
and your heart and your hope and your dignity shatter like nothing else. 
“y-yeah,” you try to reply with a laugh, but it sounds more forced than anything else you’ve ever heard in your life. “it was a really good show.”
-
“you slept with him?!” soobin asks, and he seems beyond frustrated. if you had the guts to look him in his eyes, though, you’d notice just how much hurt is in them. 
“y-yeah…” you mumble, face downcast.
“why? why would you do that? you’re just going to be even more hurt!” he exclaims, and you shrink into yourself even more, not out of fear, but out of pure shame. 
“i don’t know! it all just happened so fast, a-and i, i don’t know, i just couldn’t stop myself,” is all you manage to say. soobin groans at your words. 
“you do realize that getting over him is going to be even harder for you now, right?” he asks, and you finally look up at him for a second before looking back down and nodding, and it’s almost like you’re a child who got caught doing something they knew was wrong.
“i know, and i’m sorry,” you mutter, still struggling to make eye contact, but soobin catches your timidity and his gaze is softened as he pulls your face up to look at him. 
“you don’t have to apologize to me,” he sighs. “i’m just worried about you, you know?” 
“i know, i know. but i’m still really sorry.” and you don’t have to elaborate on why that is because you both know that he’ll be the one helping you pick up the pieces when this situation inevitably breaks your heart even more than it’s already broken, if that’s even possible.
“it’s alright,” he says, pulling you in for a hug that’s so warm and kind you almost burst into tears. “you’ll be alright. i’m here.” 
-
this is a bad idea. soobin would yell at you if you told him what you’re up to, but you don’t want to think about that right now. all you want to think about is how much better you’ll feel after you get your secret feelings off of your chest. up until now, the fear of rejection has made you too afraid to tell beomgyu how you really feel, but things can’t get much worse than they are at present, can they? it’s only been a few days since your hookup with beomgyu, but your love is eating you alive and you doubt that you’ll be able to hold it in for much longer.
things will probably go badly, and he’ll probably be completely blindsided, but the thought of continuing to lie to beomgyu’s face hurts more than anything else ever could. even more than the pain you feel every day that he unconsciously hurts your feelings. maybe this will ruin your friendship, but you love beomgyu, and he loves you, even if it’s not in the way that you want. all you can do is hope that your friendship is strong enough to overcome this.
with that mindset, you find yourself at his doorstep on this particularly cool summer night. you know he’s home because you can hear the faint sounds of whatever movie he’s watching emanating from his door. before you can lose your nerve, you begin to rapidly knock. before long, you hear the shuffling of feet nearing you, and you almost bolt then and there, but he’s quick to open the door when he realizes it’s just you.
“what are you doing here?” he asks, agitation apparent. oh god, were you interrupting something? what if he was working? what if he was sleeping? you should've texted before just showing up unannounced. 
“i-i’m sorry, are you busy?” you ask sheepishly.
“... no,” he says after a slight pause, and he opens the door to let you in. you sit yourself on his couch, posture ramrod straight due to how fucking uncomfortable you are, and you try to steady your breathing as you fiddle with your fingers. 
“is this about chaewon?” he asks, breaking the silence, and your heart aches at the trace of hope in his words.
“n-no, nothing like that. i just —”
“is there any update on that?” he cuts in before you can even get your words out.
“oh, um, not really,” you reply before remembering that something has happened, but you’ve been so out of it, it genuinely didn't occur to you to tell him. “wait, actually, she mentioned that you seem different lately, but she, uh, she’s still… well, to be honest, she’s —” 
“what? she’s still what?” and there’s no patience for your rambling to be seen.
“she’s still not interested in dating you,” you mumble, unable to look him in the eyes when you say it. he’s completely silent after your words, and when you do finally gather enough guts to actually look at him, you really, really wish you had just kept your face down. because he’s pissed. 
“are you fucking with me? she really said that?” he asks, and you nod. 
“why didn’t you tell me earlier?!” and you feel so disoriented at the way things are unfolding that you can barely croak out a reply.
“i-i forgot.” 
“you forgot? jesus christ, if it’s not about her, then why are you here?” he seems angrier than you’ve ever seen him, but his words get you to finally remember what you’re here for.
“i just… i needed to talk to you,” you say pleadingly, looking into his eyes as you try your hardest to give yourself the strength to be honest with him.
“about?” 
it takes all of the courage in your poor little heart to choke out your next words. 
“beomgyu, you know, for the longest time, i’ve —”
“i know,” he impatiently snaps. you’re unsure of what he’s referencing, but you do know he has no idea about the feelings you’ve kept hidden for so long. 
“no. no, you don’t know, actually,” you argue, brave face on, but voice shakier than a leaf. “i just need to tell you that i —”
“that you love me? i know, that’s what i just fucking said,” he sighs irritatedly. “why else would you help me? ‘cause you love me so much, right?” he knows it’s wrong to take his frustration out on you, but you’re so pathetic, you make it too damn easy. you’re the perfect outlet for him to unleash all of his anger.
“you… you knew? this entire time?” you ask incredulously. you feel like you’re suffocating in the face of his callousness and disgust, and the room feels smaller than it did before.
“i mean, yeah. it was kind of obvious,” he muses. your cheeks feel so hot you’re sure you’re on the brink of immolation. it was obvious? if it was obvious, then why did he keep you around in the first place? because you’re useful when it comes to helping him get his dick wet?
“so… so why did you…” you trail off, still finding it inconceivable that the beomgyu you know and love could possibly know about your feelings; and not only are they unreciprocated by him, which you could understand and respect, but they’re nothing more than a fucking joke and means to an end. the end in question being burying himself into other women.
“why did i act like i didn’t know? because i don't feel the same way,” he answers, and you already knew it and knew it well, but that doesn't make it any more digestible to hear.
“y-yeah, but you — how could you still sleep with me? how could you do that to me?” you ask, lips wobbling and voice cracking. you can't believe this. you won't believe this. you have to be misunderstanding something somewhere. there's just no way this is it.
“because it was easy,” he says with a shrug, and your heart shatters into a million pieces. 
because it was easy. 
easy. what a funny word. you don’t think you even fully comprehend what it means in this context, actually. easy, easy, easy, but what part of this has been easy for you? every day, it’s like you’re killing yourself by trying to twist into what he wants you to be. a friend, a confidant, and now, even a lover. but lover is being too generous, isn't it? because he does not love you, not even as a friend, and this discovery becomes clearer and clearer as you think back to every time he’s shown you just how little he cares.
soobin’s litany of warnings come back to haunt you with a vengeance. 
he’s just using you. 
he’s garbage.
he’s just gonna hurt you.
and though you know soobin will take no pleasure in being correct, you can't help but dread the “i told you so” you know he will never be mean enough to say, but will inevitably think.
“i thought we were friends,” you say incredulously, dread and anxiety pooling in the deepest recesses of your heart. “i thought you cared about me” 
and he doesn’t shrug or anything because he doesn’t really need to, but he might as well seeing as how it clearly makes no difference to him. and this is finally how you come to understand that beomgyu is just as bad as everyone says. maybe even a little worse. and he will continue to act like a sociopath for as long as you let him. 
“i-i love you, i really do. but no fucking way. i won’t sit here and let you treat me like shit,” you declare, tears flowing down your cheeks so quickly and steadily you’d probably be unable to wipe them away even if you tried. luckily or unluckily, you don’t even have the strength to find out. 
“you’re going to regret this,” you whisper, and it’s said with such certainty that for a moment, he almost believes you. almost, but not quite.
either way, you’re booking it out of his door before he can even reply.
-
this is everything beomgyu ever could’ve asked for. chaewon is sitting next to him on his bed, eyes dark with lust as she unceremoniously grabs the end of her top and tugs it off. she's beautiful, no doubt about that, but he feels more and more like something is incredibly wrong. 
she leans in to press her lips onto his, but he flinches, scooting almost imperceptibly further away from her on the bed. she falters for a moment before sighing and crawling on all fours to situate herself between his legs. she begins to unzip his pants and tug on his waistband before he frantically stops her.
“w-what are you doing?” he asks, voice shaking.
“blowing you, what does it look like i’m doing?” she replies with a roll of her eyes. “i just wish i had known you wouldn’t be into kissing or, like, actual foreplay, but whatever.” she continues her movement to pull his pants down before he stops her again. 
“what’s wrong?” she asks curiously, before finally realizing that he is, to what would normally be his eternal shame, completely soft. her mouth drops in shock, and in another universe, beomgyu has enough energy to care. but not in this one. in this one, his eyes are teary as he feels an implacable sense of dread he can’t seem to shake off. 
“oh god,” she says with conviction, pulling herself back up and running one hand through her hair. “i knew this would happen.” 
beomgyu, on his part, looks somewhat out of it, but her words bring him back to earth. 
“knew what would happen?” he asks tentatively, sniffling for reasons unknown to him while he tries not to let his tears run over his waterlines.
“i knew you’d act like this because of her,” she says begrudgingly. 
his eyebrows furrow for a second, not because he doesn’t already know who she’s talking about, but because he doesn’t understand the correlation between you and the situation he presently finds himself in.
“think about it,” she says slowly, condescendingly. “who do you trust, like, actually? and i’m not just talking about with getting girls, but with everything.” beomgyu is silent as he tries to comprehend what she's saying, but he’s nothing if not slow on the uptake in regards to human emotion. 
“oh, beomgyu, come the fuck on,” she sighs in frustration. “i mean, when you were stressed about that presentation for your job, who did you call? yunjin told me all about it. she said you spent hours reciting a 15 minute presentation to the girl you supposedly don’t give a fuck about.” ah. he remembers that night, actually, and he remembers it well. he called you in a panic, so you brought over some dinner because you knew he was stressed, but he was so wound up that you didn’t leave and even insisted that he practice with you in order to give him feedback. he spent the whole night repeating the same speech over and over again, but you sat patiently and encouragingly as he repeated the boring, inconsequential drivel to you. you never complained, not even once, and you didn’t ask him for any compensation in the form of him doing something — anything — similar for you, either. even if you had, he realizes, he wouldn't have given any to you, anyway.
“that’s…” 
“and that’s not even all of it. who’s the first one you look for when you walk into a room? and when something good happens, who do you tell first? not anybody else, and i know for a fact that it’s not me, never will be,” she says bitterly. every new point slashes at his heart and ego.
and suddenly, things start making sense, albeit in the worst possible way. beomgyu loves you. his trust and dependence on you all make an awful sort of sense, but in a way, it’s relieving to finally be able to put a name to this feeling. his eyes still feel hot, but not so much because something feels wrong, but because things finally feel right for the first time in forever. he loves you, has loved you, and will continue to love you.
her words resonate with him so deeply, she can read it all over his face. it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he finally understands, but he’s still missing an important fact. the most important fact, even. 
“yeah, i guess you finally get it now. you have feelings for her. and the worst thing is: you treat her like shit.” his eyes widen and the tears that were just threatening to escape are completely let loose. how could he only come to this realization after he already effectively stomped on your heart and your pure intentions? after you’ve made it clear that you don’t want anything to do with him anymore? and he has nobody but himself to blame, really; he practically shoved you away over and over and over again. 
“i-i didn’t mean to —” 
“sure, of course you didn’t,” she says with a sarcastic smile. “whatever makes you feel better for fucking over the girl who’s been in love with you for years.”
-
beomgyu may not know much about the inner workings of interpersonal relationships, but he does know he needs to see you, and he’s smart enough to understand that he needs to apologize. 
but beomgyu has never apologized for anything in his life — not unless you count the times his mother made him grit them out as a child when he would objectively do something wrong, but this is another matter entirely. nobody will be holding his hand as he does it, and he’s not even really sure where to start. but he knows he has to try.
surely there’s a better place to try than at the bar where he currently finds himself, but then, there’s no time like the present. not to mention that he has a sneaking suspicion that you're avoiding all of your mutual friends’ get-togethers for the sole purpose of avoiding him. if the blocking of all of his socials wasn’t enough, the blocking of his phone number certainly was.
it’s not necessarily fate’s fault that he finds himself here, either. he heard from a friend (chaewon) that you’d be here tonight. he sees you from across the bar looking lively and chatty, and he prays that the good mood you seem to be in will help soften the upcoming conversation with him. to his luck, you step out of the bar to take a call, so he slides from his seat with an open beer bottle in tow, and follows you outside. 
your back is turned, and he doesn’t quite hear what you’re talking about over the phone, but he does catch a giggle and a name, soobin’s, and it makes his heart ache. when you hang up, you turn to head back into the bar, but you’re met with his figure. 
“h-hey,” he says, and he wants to smack himself for the casual greeting he still managed to fuck up.
your eyes widen for a moment before they go blank, and you’re pushing past him without a response. 
“i need to talk to you,” he says, voice trembling as he grabs the back of your elbow, which you snatch out of his grip like his touch is poison. 
“about?” you ask curtly, barely even deigning to turn your head to look at him. you have never been so hostile towards anyone, let alone him, and it's making him spiral. 
“i’m sorry. i’m just really, really sorry,” he desperately apologizes. you’re silent for a few moments as you turn to completely face him with your arms crossed, and he’s trying his damndest to read your expression, but he can’t quite make it out.
“okay… and?” is all you say in response, and he fumbles over his words at your nonchalance. 
“a-and, um, i —”
“you know what?” you cut in with an impatient sigh and a wave of your hand. “i don’t care anymore. you’ve said enough.”
“but i —” 
“i don’t care, beomgyu.” and his name is said in such disgust that it sounds to him like it’s a chore for you to spit out. you’re about to turn and reenter the bar when his next words come tumbling out. 
“i think — i know —  i love you,” he says urgently, and your previously unreadable gaze turns into one of pure, sheer amusement. you’re so amused, you laugh, even. 
“what the fuck are you talking about?” you say between giggles.
“i-i didn’t realize it before, but i talked to chaewon, and she even said that i’ve probably always felt that way about you. i know i didn’t show it, but i really do love —”
“okay, just stop. stop it right there, beomgyu. i’m only going to say it just this once, so listen carefully, okay?” you ask, and he fervently nods. 
“okay. you don't know the first thing about love.” and he goes to interrupt you, but you don’t let him. “loving somebody means you put their feelings above your own. what the hell would you know about that?” 
“i’m… i know i was wrong, b-but i —” 
“beomgyu,” you say exasperatedly. “i’m so glad you’re finally reaching enlightenment, and i’m so happy i was cannon fodder for you to use to get there. but i just really, really don’t care anymore, okay? do what you want with whoever you want, but don’t bother me about it anymore, alright?” and he’s so stunned he can’t even form words, but you just shake your head and prepare to leave again. unconsciously, he goes to grab you again, which you consequently dodge, and he thinks this is the most rejected he’s ever felt before realizing it’s not over yet. it’s only truly over when you grab his bottle from him and splash its contents across his face before throwing the bottle back into his arms and leaving for good.
notes pt. 2: yeah... idk when part two will be out but stay tuned! also, if you all want a soobin ending let me know and i might... MIGHT do it ;_;
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cupcakeslushie · 4 months ago
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Here’s the next part of the Kendratello AU! I knew it was going to be very dialogue heavy, so I figured writing it out would be fast, but I’m so ready to be done with it that I’ve not really beta read it. So I apologize for any errors. But enjoy!
Splinter loves his sons, but these last few days have been eating away at his already shriveled and fraying nerves. Watching his children ambling around their home, for months, each in varying states of anxiety, fear, and distress, hasn’t been easy on his old heart.
They’ve been through so much, experienced more hardships than Splinter has ever wanted for them. But the latest crucible tearing his family apart was caused, not by some ancient demon, or world-ending threat—but a fiendishly smart, young woman.
One who’d kidnapped his son and replaced him with a stranger that Splinter hardly recognized.
The bitter tale is too familiar for the old movie star to painlessly swallow. It seems fate played such cruel tricks sometimes. Always seeming to strike harsher the second go around. With outcomes even more brutal and painful. His son was stolen by a hateful, sadistic woman, and kept locked away, until she was satisfied with the new toy that emerged from the shadows.
So it stands to reason how…relieved Splinter had been that one, early morning. When his three sons had pulled Purple into his bedroom, piling into his bed, nothing but wide eyes and panicked shouting; one over the other. Looking back now, he can recognize how short-sighted his quick relief had been. But in the moment, as a father, Splinter had only seen this new, strange development as a blessing.
Donatello might have been confused, and irritated with his brother’s manhandling, but Splinter could clearly see more life in those eyes than he’d witnessed in months. Splinter had shushed the rest, and spoken to Purple directly, finally getting a better grasp on what his sons were shouting about.
Amnesia.
So, of course, relief. Because how could forgetting all those horrible, tortuous weeks in that woman’s grasp, possibly be a bad thing? By some miracle, Splinter’s boy had been returned to him. Nowhere near that frail ghost of Donatello, which Splinter would sometimes find curled up on the floor of his own lab, screaming Kendra’s name and sobbing to be returned to her care.
He had been spared all of that, like it never happened. Their family had been handed a gift, and Splinter truthfully wasn't interested in the whys of it all…
Until Michelangelo chose to contact Draxum, and words like “brain damage” and “tumor” were thrown into the mix.
An entire day of testing yielded…varying results. They were able to rule out the scariest of options. No dark shadows were seen in the X-rays of his son’s beautifully brilliant brain, and no concerning squiggles were pointed out by the Hidden City doctors who studied the fast moving waves appearing on the EEG. It was all a bunch of nonsense to Splinter, but Donatello nodded like he agreed, when he was handed the papers over to inspect himself.
Everything was normal, physically.
That left the most difficult part of the day. Getting his son to speak to a psychiatrist—seriously, and without snarking back at every possible question he would eventually be asked.
Draxum had thankfully picked a good one. Briefing her beforehand on…everything. She seemed prepared for Purple’s special brand of cynicism. The sheep yokai was apparently at the top of her field.
A tentative diagnosis of “dissociative amnesia” had been given, along with a small number of pamphlets and printouts. The doctor had informed Splinter that certain treatments might improve Donatello’s situation, but no cure had been discovered for something like this.
They would just have to take things one day at a time. And they’d been doing so well. Almost like everything was back to normal.
Splinter had become very good at ignoring that pending feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. He smiled at his sons every day onward, like nothing was wrong. And all of them, in return, began falling back into a more comfortable ease around each other. The stress had just been starting to loosen in Red’s shoulders and jaw. Orange was giving real, honest smiles again. And Blue was no longer a shadow around corners, hiding from Purple like a bomb he was scared to set off.
But the other shoe that had been the root of Splinter’s dread, finally dropped, and the rug was pulled from under their feet once more, violently, with no warning.
Even after they’d managed to calm Donatello down. There was no negotiating the terms of his reality, and he was stubbornly convinced that the world around him was fabricated. Without caring about the consequences, he refused to be civil towards any of them, treating them all like jesters in a play, where no one had the script.
The family’s usual process for dealing with Purple’s anger–letting him cool off alone in his lab until he collected his thoughts–was unfeasible this time around.
Splinter didn’t think he could ever forget the image of his son, turning the knife he held in his hands inwards, and threatening to end his own life.
No; leaving him alone was not an option.
Which led back to Splinter’s previously mentioned frayed nerves.
Four days into this new, stressful change, and his genius son was still managing to find creative ways to sneak past their watchful eyes. Six attempts, in total. Each time, caught with seconds to spare, and just as traumatic for everyone involved.
Raphael and Michelangelo at the moment, were going through their home, removing every sharp implement they could find. Anything that could possibly be used to “put an end to the loop” that Donatello was convinced he was stuck in.
While the two performed their important task, Blue and Splinter had the harder of the two jobs; watching Purple.
Splinter was currently sitting comfortably in his chair, but it was far from his usual level of relaxation. Despite plenty of bean bags to occupy, the twins were locked in a shoving match. For some reason, they were fighting over the single, smallest one they must’ve owned.
“If you don’t get out of my personal space, I swear to Oppenheimer you will regret it, Leonardo!”
“And I swear to Ryan Renolds, that I’ll shred all of your softest hoodies if you kick me in the nuts one more time!”
“That Barbenheimer joke doesn’t even make sense, you idiot, that was Ryan Gosling!”
“Who mentioned Barbie? I’m talking about Deadpool and Wolverine!”
“What does that movie have to do with anything?!”
“Fuck dude, what did I just say about nut shots!”
“Then get out of my kicking radius, and your non-existent nuts will be safe!”
“BOYS!”
Both his sons quickly pause their arguing, giving their father their undivided attention.
“Leonardo, go help your brothers.” Splinter demands. “I will watch Purple. He has not had a moment of free time from any of you in days, and it is clearly wearing on all of us.” Blue gives his father one of his patented unimpressed stare downs.
“No offense, Pops, but how is you watching him, any different than me?”
“Because I will sit in my chair, and Purple will scroll on his phone, and there will be quiet.” Splinter can’t stand the bickering any longer. He knows both his sons will benefit from this time apart. It’s just convincing Blue of that.
Donatello’s gaze is boring holes into the back of Leonardo’s head while his second oldest son matches Splinter’s scrutiny. The rat can see the need for some fresh air battling against Blue’s desire to stay close. But Leonardo is his sharpest son, and even he can admit that his constant presence has become too grating for his brother.
“You need to watch him like a hawk, Dad,” Leo glares at his twin out of the corner of his gaze, “sometimes you can get a little…distracted.”
The new projector, playing Splinter’s same old programs, flashes against the curtain hung on the wall. The volume is set to low, but Blue still looks pointedly between his father and the screen. Splinter doesn’t blame him for his concern, so he tries to put all the gravity he can into his tone, enough that when he does promise to stay vigilant, it seems to convince Blue to place his trust in him.
Purple stays quiet through the exchange, only breathing a sigh of relief once his brother is long past the threshold of the den. He looks ready to lean back into his hard won pillows, but Splinter realizes that Blue had something of a point. Donatello is positioned quite far from him, and he’s suddenly nervous about catching something in time.
“Purple, how about you come sit with me.” Splinter suggests it kindly but firmly, and with a smile– so his son can’t refuse. He pats the bit of cushion next to his legs, “I will honor my promise to leave you alone, but I would be much more relaxed if you were within my reach.”
His boy merely blinks at him, blank faced, and staring at the very spot that Splinter has just created for him.
It isn’t as though his recliner is small, even if Splinter himself is. Donatello had custom made it for him, after one too many complaints about his old brown one hurting his back. It practically swallows Splinter, but remains just stiff enough to provide plenty of support for his lower back. He could even lay sideways and still have some space to stretch.
Splinter recalls very clear memories of all his sons fighting for a spot by his side when they were younger. But it has been some time since those days…perhaps Donatello thinks he’s far too old for such a thing as sitting by his aging father. Yoshi remembers himself at eighteen, and shudders. He’s forever thankful that no matter how lacking his parenting skills might have been, that his boys are kinder to him than he ever was to his Jiji.
Donatello pulls at some invisible thread of his black leggings. Since this new alteration of his memories, Purple has taken to wearing more layers. It’s nearing fall, but not nearly cold enough for the large sweatshirt, black leggings AND socks that his son is currently donning.
Splinter just barely hears Purple murmur a jumbled, “Huh?”
Splinter catches some sort of emotion actively being suppressed behind the bewildered shock at his offer, but it’s hard to tell what it is. Over the years Splinter is ashamed to say, he has grown very bad at reading his own children. Especially Purple, who, if he was being honest, has always been very hard to decipher.
Splinter starts to think the offer will be rejected, when Purple finally climbs to his feet and ambles slowly over. The unknown emotion skittering at the edge of Donatello’s expression morphs into something closer to suspicion. This one easy to identify, especially when it practically drips from his next words.
“Trying to endear yourself to me won’t sway me into falling for your tricks.”
The barb is said just as unkindly as everything else Purple has thrown at his family these last few days. Splinter lets it slide off him like water. He knows his son would (probably) never speak to him like that if he wasn’t stuck in such a painfully clear mode of survival and uncertainty.
“Yes, yes.” He says, untroubled. “Come sit and I can finally lean my chair back.”
Donatello watches him the entire time as he cautiously settles into his spot. He yelps when Splinter grabs his ankles and pulls his son’s long (thin, still much too thin) legs across his lap. For an instant, Splinter freezes, growing worried he’s overstepped. The act had been done without a thought. It’s the way Purple has always liked to sit, finding it more comfortable than any other way. Donatello preferred to keep his distance. A deviation from his siblings, for sure.
Michelangelo would press as close as possible, two sides smushed together like a hug, only without the constricting limbs (though, if Orange were ever to fall asleep in Splinter’s chair, those too would eventually find their way to catching him in their hold).
Leonardo preferred to sit on the arm of his chair, never staying still for long enough to find a comfortable position. But when he slumbered, after a long night of binge watching Novela’s with Splinter–he would curl up, head in his father’s lap, limbs held tight to his body. Like he was afraid even that was asking for too much.
Raphael, his poor, eldest son, hadn’t sat with him in so long. Splinter could still remember a little turtle tot in red, climbing up and splaying out onto his lap when he needed a good cry–or just a moment of peace from his much too loud siblings. Sadly, it wasn’t long before his Red was too big, and his father too small to provide such a refuge. The last time Raphael needed consoling; after the Krang, Splinter had been forced to climb up onto his own son’s knees in order to reach and wipe away his tears.
In the few rare instances of Purple seeking out physical touch, this was all he would allow. Legs stretched over his father’s lap, but his upper body was always off limits. Pulled just far enough away from the threat of any sort of long term contact.
Splinter used to wonder if Purple was scared to ask for anything more, like Leonardo, or if he thought depriving himself of a comforting hug would make him seem stronger, like Raphael, or even the rare times when Michelangelo wished to appear more mature and refused to be comforted. Eventually, Splinter caught on to the truth. His son was asking for comfort, in his own unique way. He was content with the minimal amount of closeness, as long as he felt like he was able to dictate the terms.
But one thing Purple would always allow his father to do, was loop his fingers around his ankles. Trusting the grip would hold his legs in place and keep him stable. He once said the pressure was small enough that it wasn’t overwhelming, but strong enough that it could ground him when everything became too much.
Even now, the act of reaching out to pull his son’s long legs up had been so instinctive. When Splinter looks over and sees the uncertainty still on Purple’s face, he knows he’s pushed too far too quickly.
It’s a risky move, but he’s already pushed, and it’s something that never fails, not once since he’s discovered it.
Purple has always been the most ticklish of all his brothers. Another thing that never really helped his sensory issues. But Splinter long ago discovered that there was a particular spot, which could always earn him a giggle and a brighter smile.
Splinter grips the meat of Donatello’s right knee and jiggles it back and forth. The silly action seems to do the trick and knocks something loose in his son’s overwrought head. His gamble pays off spectacularly, and Splinter is overjoyed to see a small smile erase most of the uncertainty clouding Donatello’s face. It isn’t a full peal of laughter, but the wariness makes way for something softer, and the huff of air from his nose is just as rewarding as a full body laugh.
His boy rests his shoulder and head onto the cushioned back of the chair and Splinter presses the button that will lift up the leg rest, and recline them both into a more restful position.
After a few moments of quiet, Donatello slowly pulls his phone from the pocket of his hoodie. Even without looking directly at him, Splinter can feel his son watching and waiting for the reprimand he thinks will come. Instead, Splinter raises the volume of his show just loud enough for him to hear, but not enough to completely shatter their peace. He wants to make Purple feel more at ease; like he’s not being constantly surveilled–not providing more overstimulation.
They sit like that for some time. Splinter rubs a thumb back and forth across the meatier part of Donatello's calves. He’s learned that repetitive touch is the best kind of grounding technique for Purple. The patterned motion always worked to calm his nerves.
Even still, after only so long Splinter catches Purple lowering his phone.
He keeps his own gaze forward, locked on his commercials. Splinter can see, without looking, that his son is studying him, trying to take apart something in his mind that he doesn’t understand. Splinter allows him all the time he needs to gather his thoughts.
Finally Purple speaks, “Dad…?” It’s so quiet, if Splinter hadn't been waiting for it, he might’ve missed it.
He pauses the repetitive kneading for just a moment, squeezing his hold, and humming in order to prompt his son to continue his thought.
“Can I tell you something?” The inquiry is whispered to him so delicately. It takes everything in him to keep his face open and soft and his movements steady. It’s clear that Donatello is trying his best to remain aloof, but his gaze is locked on his hands that are settled in his lap, the fingers of one pulling on the digits from his other.
At some point he must’ve put his phone completely away. Splinter feels the pressure of having Donatello's complete focus aimed at him.
The tugging intensifies. Splinter wonders if he should reach out, but he’s not sure how well that would be received. It doesn’t look painful just yet.
“I don't know what Kendra is accomplishing by showing me this.” Donatello growls, suddenly digging his palms into his eyes like he can still feel the weight of the screen blocking his vision. “Trying to make me happy, only to rip it all away from me? Or attempting to make me feel, even more like a useless burden than I was?”
It’s the first crack in his armor that Purple has shown in days. A clear sign that he was not as unaffected by Kendra’s lies as he’d been trying to project. Donatello sighs, but as it dies out Splinter thinks it sounds closer to a sob.
“You can’t tell the others…” Donatello looks at him with wet, desperate eyes, and it’s unclear if his son still doubts who he’s speaking to, but Splinter works to ease his fears all the same.
“I swear, whatever you tell me will remain between us, alone.”
Donatello nods faintly, eyes trailing downwards once more. Splinter may have had trouble before, but now the many emotions jumping across his son’s face—fear, shame, frustration, all are easy to catch.
With a shaking breath he whispers his secret. “I lied.” He’s crying now, real tears that he doesn’t even bother to wipe away. The pulling at his skin grows more violent, and Splinter finally interferes to carefully pry Donatello’s hands apart before damage is done. In place he cradles his son’s hands like delicate porcelain and runs a thumb over Donatello’s palm.
“I told everyone that I could tell. That I wasn’t being fooled, but that’s not exactly true. The last few loops have…it’s been getting harder, and harder to remember things— how they really happened. Too much is…plausible.”
Splinter keeps silent. This confession has clearly been weighing on Donatello. He deserves to get it all out, and hopefully feel lighter for it. Even if Purple suspects the family, something is letting Donatello open up enough for him to share his fears.
“There was one loop…Mikey broke…he broke the remote…When I said I didn’t have time to fix it. He threw the pieces at my head. He would never do that, though…right?”
“No, of course not,” Splinter answers immediately, quick to banish the doubt from his son’s mind. Donatello only blinks at him, like his thoughts are moving too slow, and cannot comprehend such a simple, stark contradiction to what he experienced.
“It felt so real…it all feels so real. But…I could feel how one of the sharp, broken corners had cut through my mask and how the wet fabric stuck to my skin with blood.”
Donatello raises a hand and touches the spot where the phantom wound must’ve sat. The pain now gone, but the memory of it haunts his eyes and rattles the tremors building in his hands.
“I thought…I thought I was handling this—maybe not well…But I’d hoped I would be strong enough to last until you all came for me…And now Raph is saying it’s already over.”
It’s a simplified form of the truth which they had tried to get Purple to believe, but even that much clearly doesn’t sit well with him. “If it is over, why does my body feel like one massive bruise? How did you all find me? How long did I last? Was I in there long enough to…?”
He’s clearly scared to ask Splinter any more questions, so he trails off, curling in on himself and pulling his hands up to his chest, pressing there, as if checking to make sure he feels something still beating.
Splinter decides he’s waited long enough and slowly pulls Donatello out of his hunched ball and guides his head to his own chest, making sure his ear is aligned against his own pulsing heartbeat.
Donatello resists slightly at first, but the moment he’s close enough to catch the sound, his breath catches and he glues himself to the spot.
“I don’t want to be there anymore,” Purple murmurs. It sounds like sleep is catching up with his son, the exhaustion pulling him down and slurring his words.
Splinter cups the back of Donatello’s head and carefully tug his fur lined blanket down from where it’s been sitting on the back of his chair. The blanket slots over the both of them and Donatello curls even closer to his father, tucking himself into his warmth.
“Go to sleep, when you wake up, you will be right here.” He’s sure to say it softly but with as much reassurance as possible, and Donatello seems too tired at this point to hold onto his doubts.
“Okay…,” Donatello mutters. Then, practically hanging on to the waking world for one final query hesitantly asks, “…Dad?…Do you love me?”
Splinter doesn’t even think. “Of course, my son.”
Donatello’s breathing finally evens out, and Splinter feels a few tears finally escape.
He’s not sure what next steps they should take, or what kind of state his son will be in when he wakes, but Splinter can only hope this is progress. He prays it won’t be undone…but regardless, Donatello is home. Any steps back or forward will be taken together, and that is the most important part.
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empty-movement · 1 year ago
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Chiho Saito’s 1999 Revolutionary Girl Utena Original Illustration Collection
IT’S HERE. IT’S DONE. IT’S FINISHED. NOW…IT’S YOURS. Happy Holidays, my friends.
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Vanna here! I have posted some already about this project, and the responses I got, public and otherwise, have been absolutely incredible. Y’all have been reblogging and hyping this before it even finished…I haven’t felt so encouraged about an Utena project since the musicals! (Yes, streams soon, I promise.) You can read the other post to get more details, and catch my post here with more details about the process if you’re interested. The long and short of it?
This is the first artbook I ever scanned. I did it in 2001. In Photoshop, using multiple scans per page that took hours to process. But it was 2001. A half megabyte file that was 1250px wide was considered extremely hardcore and impressive. That’s just always been the business I’m in when it comes to Utena art, you know? 
It’s now the latest artbook I’ve scanned, and so much of the process, and effort involved, is unchanged. What has changed, is the result. Welcome to your new desktop background. Your new phone background. Your new poster print. 
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What I’ve done here is attempt to create definitive digitized images of Chiho Saito’s work as offered by this book--I have removed the print moiré of the original scans, and used my literal decades of experience to try and tease out as much information from them as possible. Without being physically in front of the original artwork (which is a thing I’ve had the great fortune to get to do) this is The Most Chiho Saito you are ever going to get. I’ve tried my best to make sure there is a way to get it that works for everyone:
Do you just wanna scope 'em out? Look at some disaster gays? Grab your favorite one or two? This is the path for you! Check out the ‘compressed’ (not very) 10k ‘web friendly’ (not really) copy at the Bibliothèque, the media archiving wing of the Something Eternal forums at Empty Movement*. All the following links are also available from here. Do you want these copies? All of them? Don't just grab them individually, friend. This batch is 375MB and can be downloaded as a zip of the individual files here on our Google Drive.
Do you like digital archiving? Are you looking for a copy that preserves the archival quality of the effort but sits nice and comfy in a single file? This is for you. A minimally compressed 10k, 513MB version worked into a PDF is now up, shiny and chrome, on the Internet Archive. Do you like the idea of the minimal compression, but want the individual files in a zip? Yep I did that too, here's the drive link.
Are you looking to print these in a larger size? This is probably the only reason on Earth you’d ever want them, and yet a bunch of you are going to go straight for these. Here are the zero-compression JPG full size copies, most of them are 15k across, like simply a ridiculous size. Pick your fave and download it from our Google Drive! 
I am genuinely really proud of this work.** I was able to tease out so much new detail from these…her incredible layering techniques, the faintest brush of her highlights, and the full range of her delicate hand at whites and blacks… details commonly lost in digitization. I sincerely hope you find something here that you’re looking for, as an artist looking for inspiration, as a weeb looking for a desktop, as an archiver excited to see incredible 90s manga artwork saved forever in the digital realm. I feel like I have already said so much about them, and could keep going, but you know what? This work speaks for itself. Enjoy, use, explore, and definitely tell us what you think!
We love y’all. ~ Vanna & Yasha
* AHEM ASTERISK AHEM
You might be wondering what any of that is. Something Eternal? Biblewhatawhat??? EmptyMovement.com? You might even have done a double take at the word ‘forum.’ And you should!!!
I have a confession. This artbook was my ‘side project’ as I worked on this, *the main project.* For a couple years I’ve been banging around with a new domain, and originally I had other plans for it, but Elon Musk ruined my Twitter and Discord is well along on its way to enshittification, and well….we joke on the Discord a lot about ‘reject modernity, embrace forums’ and you know what? We’re right. So Yasha and I are putting our money where our mouths are once again, and doing something insane. We are launching, in 2023, a website forum. Obviously, this is not the official ‘launch’ per se, but I cannot announce the artbook without directing you to the forum, since it sits on the attached very cool gallery system. Oops! Told on myself. Another post more focused on the forum will be forthcoming, but if you are just that motivated to get in right away, you absolutely can! (This will help stagger new arrivals anyway, which is good for us!) If you would rather wait for the ‘official’ launch, by all means that’s coming, including a lengthy screed about how and why we’re doing this. In either case, remember: this is a couple weebs trying to make internet magic happen, we are not website developers by trade. Give us grace as we iron things out and grow into this cool new website thingie…hopefully along with some of you! :D
If you do join up, naturally, there is a thread about this project!
** If you like this kind of content, consider helping us pay for it! We do have a Patreon! If you’re wanting to use these in some public-facing distributive way, all we ask is for credit back to Empty Movement (ohtori.nu or emptymovement.com, either will work.) 
I would like to say ‘don’t just slap these files on RedBubble to get easy money’ but I know that saying this won’t effectively prevent it. Y’all that do that suck, but you’re not worth letting it rain on the rest of this parade. :)
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ramp-it-up · 3 months ago
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Knock You Down
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Summary: James Bucky Barnes is an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. But when he meets you, he finds out that sometimes love comes around, and it knocks you down.
Word count: less than 2K
Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader
A/N: This fic was in part inspired by Seb Stan's latest pics and this press run 🫠, and partially inspired by an old song by some problematic people, lol. This is the result. As usual, I am Basil Exposition, so this is broken into parts. Part II is already in the queue and will be posted on Friday, 10/11.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Slow burn, cursing, mutual pining, Bucky the player, wild thoughts, kisses on the hand and the cheek. No sex!
I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘
I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
-----
"Won't see it coming when it happens. But when it happens you're gonna feel it, let me tell you now."
Bucky always scoffed at Steve’s advice. He and Sam never understood his solitary bachelorhood and his one night stand lifestyle.
The truth was, he hadn’t met anyone who held his interest enough to warrant a second date, much less anything beyond one casual hookup. So, he never made promises that he couldn’t keep, and most women said they were down for that. 
Even if they were lying to themselves.
At 42, James Buchanan Barnes was too dedicated to his business, ostensibly as an art dealer, for a serious relationship. The truth was that he dealt in many things, and that was why his business needed so much attention. 
His life and everyone’s around him depended on it. 
Bucky Barnes wasn’t going to get caught slipping.
In love or in business.
—---
The first time you met James Buchanan Barnes, on what you thought would be a random Monday afternoon, he appraised you in a way that shook you to the core, those ocean blue eyes looking into your soul. You felt as if he were evaluating a piece of art as he gazed at you across his desk. 
You couldn’t know that he felt the exact same way. 
His eyes never strayed from your face as he shook your hand, but he’d noticed every bit of you as you entered his gallery, Rebirth. You were more stunning than any piece of art that he’d ever curated in the space.
While nothing like his normal type, you made Bucky feel as if he’d been so wrong about so much in his life the moment you entered his orbit. He had to get to know you to find what he’d been missing.
This afternoon you were a sight to behold and serving body. Although you were covered from neck to shin in an elegant sheath dress, the high, wrapped waist was giving all of your bounteous curves up to whoever glanced at you. And you had heads turning.
Steve, Sam, and even Natasha craned their necks to watch you as you entered Bucky’s office. And he could have sworn that Nat’s neck was at a 90 degree angle as she watched you leave her desk just outside his door.
You were fine as hell.
Bucky was entranced by dreams of handling your curves and making you smile at him forever.
As Bucky dreamed, you admired the man in front of you. Tall, dark, and handsome, Barnes wasn’t a young man, but the gray in his beard and the crinkles around his eyes made him that much more attractive. 
Even more attractive than in the paparazzi pics of him with various young models and actresses of the moment, waifs and ingénues with whom he was never photographed twice.
You just knew you were safe from any advances from him.
You thought.
“Enchanté, Ms. Y/LN. It is a pleasure to meet you."
Bucky lowered his head as he greeted you, a slight bow and extended his hand to his desk. You noticed the tattoo that started on his hand and seemed to go up his sleeve and went in the direction he pointed.
"You know, you are quite tenacious. I don’t take many meetings with potential buyers. But all of my people told me that I should.”
The silk of his voice, the unexpected tenor of it, and the way he took your hand made you shiver at the aura of experience that he gave off.
The word Daddy floated around in your mind for a moment until he invited you to sit.
You had to concentrate on the business at hand, that of negotiating for a piece of art for the Art and Culture Center in Brownsville, of which you were the director. The purchase was made possible by benefactors to commemorate a deceased Brownsville artist who became famous, then forgotten, during the Harlem Renaissance.
“You’ve made it past Ms. Romanoff, my gallerist, Mr. Wilson, my business manager, and Mr. Rogers, my gallery director, Ms. Y/LN. What makes you think that I’m going to give you a different answer? Letting that piece go for the price you’ve proposed is not a good business move.”
“You can’t afford to miss out on this opportunity, Mr. Barnes. Yes, you will be taking a loss on the artwork, but you will be on the ground floor of a major rediscovery. You will be known as one of the few who helped to resurrect the brilliance of the artist Howard Benson. You can be the Alice Walker to his Zora Neale Hurston.”
And that is when Bucky leaned back in his chair, astounded at your shrewd calculation.
“I love the way your mind works, Ms. Y/LN.”
You smiled and settled back into your chair, causing Bucky to shift in his chair. He wanted to be buried in you. He appraised and decided that he liked the pout that changed your lips almost as much as the smile that initially greeted him when he replied, “But that price is still unacceptable.”
You raised an adorable eyebrow at him and rose to the challenge that he lay at your feet ready to tangle with the inimitable James Barnes. The conversation stretched from early afternoon to dinner time, making you suspect that Barnes was drawing it out for some reason. You matched him, point for point, until it was dark. But he yielded no ground.
The conversation was intellectual foreplay: art history, sociology, american politics. And it was the most stimulated you’d been in a while. 
You could do this all night.
Your phone buzzed and you looked down. There were several text messages and emails lighting up your screen. You’d been in deep with Barnes for hours. It was after 6 pm. It seemed like only minutes. You noticed that it was only you and Bucky left in the gallery and rose to excuse yourself, albeit reluctantly.
“Oh! I’m sorry to keep you so long. I’m sure that you must have plans.”
You’d done your research and you knew that there was probably someone little more than half Barnes’ age waiting for him. When you searched social media, there was a sighting or spotted every month or so of Bucky and a young, beautiful woman.
You reached for your coat, but Bucky was behind you in seconds, taking it from you and helping you put it on. You shivered at his breath at your throat and his hands on your collarbone as he draped the lapels over your neck. His deep chuckle made your stomach flip. He saw right through you.
“No one is waiting for me but my cat, Alpine. How about you, Ms. YLN? Anyone waiting for you in Brownsville?”
“Not tonight. No.”
Why in the world were you doing the sultry whisper thing? This man didn’t want you. 
Did he?
You cleared your throat and you felt dizzy when you looked up and saw how close he was standing to you. Those eyes and the smile that graced his handsome face had you warm, but the way he licked his lips had you spiraling.
Bucky pushed down a mild sense of panic that someone might be expecting you some other night, but that was irrational. Competition never ever entered his mind when he talked to other women. 
What was happening here?
“Well I would consider myself extremely fortunate and would be honored if we could continue this conversation over dinner.”
—-
The way James Barnes turned your meeting into a dinner date had your head spinning, but the wonderful conversation and easy, light hearted banter eased your mind. As soon as the first course was served at your table at dinner at Bohemian, he agreed to your initial price.
From there, once the terms were settled, the conversation turned to more personal questions, each of you sharing the stories of your life in your town, his childhood in Romania, your childhood in Brooklyn, and lots of funny stories.
At one point early in the night, Bucky stopped you from calling him Mr. Barnes.
“Please. Call me James. Or you could call me Bucky. My Friends call me Bucky. For my middle name, Buchanan. Bucky is short for Buchanan.”
Bucky found himself rambling. He had not been this nervous in a while.
You looked at him quizzically. At that moment, he would give you anything you were about to ask of him.
“Do you have a lot of friends? I mean, do a lot of people call you Bucky?“
Godamn, the husk in your voice, those lips, those eyes. Everything about you was about to set him on fire.
“I have a few who are in my close circle. Natasha, Steve, Sam. They and a very few others call me Bucky. Most people I speak with call me Mr. Barnes...”
You nodded slowly, licking your lips, making Bucky feel it in his cock.
“Then I will call you James.”
He got your subtle meaning. You wanted to be different. 
And you were. So very different.
After almost five hours of the best conversation and laughter, he proposed another time for you two to meet before the week was up, on Friday. He had made it clear at dinner that now that business was concluded that he wanted to spend time with you.
Friday night would be a date, the second one at his insistence.
You debated that fact as his driver took you home, even up until he walked you to the door of your brownstone.
He leaned against your doorframe and checked you out as you retrieved your keys from your purse. When you turned and caught him looking, you gasped, causing him to straighten up and move toward you, eyes dilated.
“It will be our second date,” you conceded.
Bucky’s mouth curled into a smirk as he grabbed your hand and lifted it to his mouth. Your soul burned as he pressed his lips to your palm. It was like the hint of a drug in your veins and you wanted so much more.
“What made you change your mind?”
That voice. Did you have a voice kink? Good lord.
You flushed, both at the images that were racing through your mind, and at the arbitrary three date rule you’d made up a while ago. Why was that again?
You cleared your throat.
“Because of the way you are looking at me, James. And the fact that you just kissed me.”
“Is this a kiss?”
“Ummhmmmm.”
You hummed as Bucky raised his eyebrow and your hand again. This time, he brushed his lips against your wrist and inhaled the perfume lingering there. You were about to melt.
Bucky didn’t even know what he was doing. The next step in his mind was to open his mouth and consume you, but he opened his eyes and spied you looking at him in that way, and he knew he had to stop. He didn’t want this to be like all of his other conquests.
He straightened up, but didn’t let go of your hand, entangling your fingers together. 
“You are correct, Y/N. In my mind, this is a date. I am interested in you, for more than just your taste in art. I hope that this is the first date of many.”
You were bowled over at his straightforwardness. It was not what you were used to. This was a man, not a boy in mens clothing.
“I appreciate your honesty, James.”
You went on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek, your lips lingering on the black and grey stubble so close to his lips. You turned around, giving him a view of your backside as you opened your door.
“And your ambition.”
You gave him that smile again with a wink, and your “Goodnight, James,” floated up to him on cloud nine.
——-
Let me know if you liked it!
Part II here.
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akutasoda · 2 months ago
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the fans are always right. right?
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synopsis - mr reca seemed a bit more downbeat then your used too, maybe some rather interesting reviews would cheer him up
includes - reca
warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight crack, wc - 1.6k
a/n: i uhh had an idea... lost it and tried to salvage what i remembered and this was the result- anyway all the reviews used were given to me by some lovely people ( @tragedy-of-commons, @singularity-sam, @vxnuslogy, @mikashisus, @/milksnake-tea, @/tetrachrxmacy and @theother-victoria) try and guess who's who :))
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a huffed sigh escaped you, slouching down in your chair as the clock ticked rhythmically in the background. mr reca was supposed to meet you around fifteen minutes ago. he'd never been late before.
a reasonable explanation would be that he had something more important to tend to. and that would be understandable. but for now you were bored out of mind and leaving wasn't an option as reca could show up at any time - he probably wouldn't be as forgiving if you were to show up after him.
today you two were meant to develop a new script and start on the storyboard for his latest idea. in honesty, you're still not quite sure how you landed this job. you wanted to start getting into directing films of your own but couldn't quite place how to start and so you settled for finding a job as a co-director.
after helping co-direct a few pieces here and there, you got a message from the esteemed mr reca. you had to do a couple (maybe even hundreds…) of checks to make sure you weren't actually dreaming. mr reca didn't exactly strike you as the kind of person to need or even want a co-director.
and yet here you were. apparently he enjoyed the sense of style you breathed into the films you helped direct and thought it would pair nicely with a couple of his. even to this day you find it hard to believe that you still had this job.
but you put your all into it. a lot of trust and expectation was placed upon you and you would be sure to not let him down. even if that meant waiting for him to show up for your appointed meetings.
twenty minutes.
you looked around the room for anything to pass the time, all you could think of was your phone laid idly on the desk. then an idea crossed your mind. reca had recently released a film. perhaps you could read some reviews to pass the time.
you never really expected yourself to be mentioned in any of them. yes you got credits and the recognition for being reca's personally selected co-director but most people still only talked about him in their reviews, which wasn't exactly a problem.
it didn't take long to find a rather reputable review page and so you began scrolling.
you should've expected the first one being a five star review
@bebe_fanpage101 : ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
- "This film has changed my life. My whole outlook on everything that exists in this world, in fact even in the entire universe. I can never look at anything I know the same way ever again. This film represents emotions most humans could never comprehend. But I can. Thanks to this film I have been awakened to many things previously thought unimaginable. Thank you."
a rather extreme opinion in your eyes, reca did have some “over-the-top” fans. your became intrigued after stumbling across a one star review soon after
@frankenweeniehater4life : ⭐
- "what ?"
[review has been deleted]
maybe it wasn't an actual review, but you stifle a laugh at the next review being from the same person
- "wrong movie how do i delete a review" (Edited)
perhaps this could definitely entertain you until reca arrived. you idly scrolled through the reviews, only stopping when some peaked your interest or made you smile
@seas_ablaze : ⭐⭐⭐
- "A film that does a lot of monkey business and goes bananas with it."
or alternatively,
@frankenweeniehater4life : ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
- "i've seen about a million movies and dear god this has to be one of the worst. an absolute slog to get through. the pacing was awful, everything took years to happen. the soundtrack was grating. the actors either put no effort in or way too much- either put them back on the street or send them back to the musical theater. the cinematography was dull at best and straight up nauseating at worst- i had to pause multiple times so i didn't get physically ill. and don't get me STARTED on the stilted script and dull characterization. and the dog isn't even a weenie."
you reckon they might have gotten the wrong film again… but it definitely explained the username-
and at that moment reca finally showed up, he pushed open the doors grumbling something - obviously whatever kept him busy wasn't pleasant. he had walked in with a huff and his expression didn't exactly read that of happiness.
you brushed it off and greeted him like you usually would, something that was greeted with another grumble which you could only guess was a hello of sorts towards you.
watching, you noted how he slumped into the chair on the other side of the desk and it became clear that he wasn't in the mood to get any work done. the silence was starting to get uncomfortable and so you slid your phone over to him, reviews still open.
reca perked one eyebrow up and questioned you “what's this about? we have duties to complete not waste time”
you hummed in response before sliding your phone closer until he picked it up “it's reviews from your latest film, it's not like we'll be getting things done soon and maybe they could help guide our planning” a small pause “they're quite entertaining”
he scrolled for a bit before stopping on one and reading it out loud
@/blink!vxnus! : ⭐⭐⭐⭐
- "film was great and very informative. it made the story far more interesting compared to other documentaries tackling the same story. - 1 because mr reca wasn't in the actual film"
“it's not very helpful, just compliments” he sighed “and wishful fans being normal”
you smiled in response before reaching over as he turned the phone to you and scrolling back up again “this one's a personal favorite, especially the comments”
@/bebe_fanpage101 : ⭐⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
- "came for the reca shirtless scene, stayed for the storytelling. no regrets stan robin"
- @/ultimate_recakisser : "I mean I’d be the same as well I MEAN WHAT WHO SAID THAT Speakingofshirtlessrecaifoujdthisonefanartdoesanyonewantmetosendit?"
- @/bebe_fanpage101 : "me. dms. shhh."
- @/iwishsundaywasmywife : "id judge u both. but. im the same way abt bird man so i cant"
reca stared at the review, then the comments, before his face began morphing into something akin to the middle point of shock and disgust.
he sighed “there wasn't even a shirtless scene, these people are… enthusiastic, to be nice”
you hummed in response before suggesting that the lower rated reviews may help more and scrolled until you found some.
@/iwishsundaywasmywife : ⭐
- "Great movie. Plot flows well, characters are charismatic and overall a wonderful viewing experience. Just hate the director."
@/abardslyre : ⭐
- "my gf broke up with me for the director. mr reca count ur ******* days."
you had to hold back laughter at the sight of his face distorting into confusion and a slight grimace making the corner of his lips scowl
@/seas_ablaze : ⭐
- "This is awful, pretentious garbage. In all objective fact, he's an auteur wannabe who makes idiotic movies for the normie audiences who are too stupid to think for themselves. I didn't even watch more than five minutes of it, I just know it's bad from his name attached to it. I never made a movie before or have ever taken a film class, but even I could do better than this disgrace of an art form that only a few can ever hope to master. Hell, I would personally kill all subpar directors myself if I could, I'm just that smart. As Lord Scorsese says: Cinema is dead!"
mr reca sighed, deeply, “i can't decide if this helped or not, but im leaning no at the minute”
you definitely could say you enjoyed scrolling through the reviews more, but it wasn't hard to notice how his demeanor changed. how he wasn't so grumpy and you could've sworn that at one point you'd seen a smile on his face. your idea worked.
eventually you two managed to start discussing ideas - which was more him talking your ear off with his ideas and you listening and writing down anything he told you to. and then he paused.
before you even had the chance to question if anything was the matter, reca surprised you “maybe those reviews could help for the next film”
“what do you mean?” you couldn't believe what you were hearing, your spur of the moment idea to show him reviews to hopefully boost his mood so you could both actually talk about his next film properly worked. it actually gave him ideas.
reca prattled on about how some of the reviews gave him the idea for how to expand his latest idea that had hit a wall and now he could continue to elaborate the idea. it was sort of satisfying to see how passionate he had become despite his earlier attitude.
he then abruptly stopped before trailing off “maybe i should listen to some of those reviews and change genres”
you thought that was a rather drastic suggestion, arguing that his current genres worked perfectly fine and it was his speciality, his signature if you would. but then he started mumbling again
“maybe if we went that route… then you could…” he was trailing off, you could barely piece together his coherent sentence but you could pick up on “based on us”
“what? could you repeat that again mr reca?”
“what?”
mr reca was never easy to work with.
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taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn, @https-sourlimes
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endless-ineffabilities · 4 months ago
Text
Double-Edged Seduction (a Chemical Override minishot)
Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader
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a/n: as requested! Set in the current chem ov timeline.
series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist
The reader's top secret campaign is officially launched.
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Matty
"So? How's the missus?" Max, Fabien's brother, asks as Matt rejoins the table.
The brothers and Matthew decided to meet up at a bar in the Soho area of London. As with every reunion, the conversation inevitably turned to their current romantic interests.
Matt had excused himself and walked out back when you called, unable to suppress the grin spreading across his face. That same smile still lingers as he takes his seat. Max and Fabien exchange knowing glances, clearly noticing the impact you have on him.
"Look at the lad's face. He's smitten to bits, isn't he?" Max teases, nudging Fabien to join him. Fabien merely shakes his head with a smirk, taking a long drag of his beer - he knows it's not all cut and dry, not when Ewan's in the picture.
Oblivious to the underlying tension, Max continues, "I've met her at your party, right? She's the new actress in your show?"
Matt leans forward, eager to chime in, "Yeah, she's new, but there's no shortage of talent there. She's already outshining me in our scenes!"
"Oh, I'll bet. Let's see now, hold on." Max pulls out his phone. "I'm not too familiar with her other stuff. Let me look at her IMDB or something." Then he gets to clicking, typing in your name on the search engine.
"Are you seriously Googling her?" Fabien laughs dryly. "You've met her a couple of times!"
"Yeah, yeah," Max waves him off, "just making sure that our boy Matty here is all set."
Matty? Or Ewan? Fabien thinks, but he keeps it to himself. No need to drag his brother into the drama. As it stands, the nosy guy's gonna find out eventually.
Max hums and ahs as he scrolls through your relatively brief filmography. But when he returns to the search results, he notices a series of headlines. They all seem to cover the same news: your latest Agent Provocateur campaign has just been released.
“Oh? Oh... Oh!” Max exclaims, his cheeks flushing red as he lowers his phone. “I don’t think I’m supposed to be seeing this,” he jokes with a sheepish grin.
"What the hell is going on with you?" Fabien laughs, but it quickly fades when Max shows him the news headline.
"Hey, now," Matt says, "if this is about my girl then I should be the one to see this."
And he does. Heat runs through Matt's body, and it isn't due to the alcohol. No, you are something far more intoxicating. He clicks on one sultry photo after another, unable to tear his eyes away from the screen. "Oh, fuck me," he mumbles weakly.
"Oh, god, his face!" Fabien exclaims. "Mate, you are so gone."
"Well, shit." Matt hands the phone back, then says in a lighthearted tone, "Don't look at that anymore. Those aren't for you."
Max raises both hands in surrender, amused.
A hush falls over the lads, which breaks when Fabien lowers his head in a fit of suppressed giggles. "Your face, Matthew!"
Matt chuckles heartily, mirroring Fabien. "Fuck, can you blame me?"
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Ewan
"Hello to all, I am Josh Horowitz, here interviewing two upcoming stars of the next big franchise... well, it will be a global sensation, I'm saying it now. Jenna Ortega and Ewan Mitchell!"
Jenna and Ewan both turn to the camera, displaying grateful smiles.
"We're so happy to be here, Josh," Jenna says.
"Well, thank you for being here," Josh replies. "Ewan, how was the flight from across the pond? Do you miss it already or does LA have your heart now?"
"Flight was all good." Ewan nods, smiling. "Yeah, and I mean, LA is great, it's lovely out here for sure. But my heart remains back home, I have to say."
Donna, his publicist, stands tense behind the camera, hoping that he doesn't making any revelations regarding his lovelife. They don't need another talking-to about the conditions of his contract, especially after that whole Instagram fiasco.
Josh asks several routine questions about the upcoming film - the production process, the locations for filming, the costumes. Ewan does well, his answers full of depth, evidencing the dedicated actor that he is.
But Donna wishes he would just smile more in Jenna's direction. This is meant to be a taster of their budding relationship - what fans will look back on and deem the initial flirty stages.
Ewan is, without a shadow of a doubt, a great actor. Fantastic. A star all-around. Donna knows this well - it's the reason why she chose to represent him in the first place. But man does he suck at PR.
Josh then asks a series of rapid fire questions to test their friendship.
Where did they first meet? The director's office in LA.
When is the other's birthday? Neither gets it right, but not for lack of trying.
"Well, I'm a Libra," Jenna says, "and you're a... "
"Pisces?" Ewan answers, unsure of himself. "At least I think so. I've been told that I do act like a true Pisces."
"Oh?" Josh responds. "And Pisces and Libra... are those compatible signs?"
"I think so," Jenna glances at Ewan with a smile. "I hope so!"
"You tell me," Ewan shrugs good-naturedly. "I'm not a big astrology guy, but you know, it seems interesting."
"Okay," Josh moves on. "Last text you sent each other?"
"Oh, wow," Jenna exhales.
"I don't know, let me check," Ewan says, quickly pulling out his phone, and Jenna follows suit. "Maybe something about this interview..." he trails off, distracted by a new notification - a message from Phia that starts with SOS.
What the hell? His mind races. He glances around the room, making sure no one noticed the flicker of concern on his face, before tapping the notification to open the message.
SOS! Our girl is so damn delish!! I don't know how you can ever handle it 😫
Ewan scrolls down, and his entire body stiffens. He is overwhelmed by a mix of surprise and disbelief, yet his face remains a stony mask as he processes what he's seeing. There's a lot to take in - your figure tastefully showcased in delicate lingerie, every curve accentuated with an air of elegance and seduction. His eyes hungrily flick over the images, as he tries so hard to remain composed.
So what if this franchise basically sets up his entire career? So what if he's already signed every contract that ties him to it? And who cares if a Hollywood mogul destroys his image?
Ewan needs you.
He is also, almost certifiably, going mad.
Get it together. He tells himself.
"Ewan? Ewan?" Josh's voice cuts through, snapping him out of blissful momentary delirium. "Care to share with the class?"
"Oh, he's so out of it," Jenna laughs. "What did you find? I looked through and our last message was about this interview."
"Oh, was it now?" Josh chides. "Or did Jenna send anything particularly interesting?
"What, me? I'm the worst texter ever," Jenna replies, shaking her head. "My messages are so plain and boring."
"Oh, sorry, that was nothing." Ewan says, managing an unaffected laugh. "I just got distracted by an Oasis headine. Are you guys going to see their show this year?" He masterfully switches the subject, but his mind lingers on images of your bare skin in lace and silk and...
He crosses his legs, stretches his neck, smiles and nods at whatever the others are saying. Anything to quell that familiar grawing tension in his trousers.
Not now. He prays. Not here.
If that happens... he is well and truly fucked.
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Some notes in the margins...
If anyone's got any ideas on a name for the Ewan/Jenna film, I'm all ears. Also - on Ewan's elf character name? I call him Elfmond but I think that might be too telling... hehe.
Cold showers for Mitchell in LA. A lot of cold showers.
And for Matty? 😏🤷🏻‍♀️
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sushiyuzu · 4 months ago
Text
a fake relationship
nanami kento x reader
a/n: interested to read more? click here to read the book!
the school bell rings, echoing through the hallways as students spill out of classrooms, chatting, laughing, and groaning over the latest assignments. you're in no particular rush, meandering through the crowded corridor on your way to your locker. most of your friends have already left, probably heading to the café nearby or the library. but you? you have a different kind of problem to face—one that's been plaguing you all semester: math.
you open your locker with a sigh, tossing in a textbook and pulling out your crumpled math test results. a large, angry red 48/100 glares back at you from the paper, and you wince. it's the third failed math test this month. no matter how hard you try, no matter how many formulas you attempt to memorize, numbers just don't seem to click in your brain. you stuff the paper into your bag, muttering under your breath.
"great. just great."
you're not dumb—far from it. you're a pretty solid student in most subjects, but math? math is your achilles' heel. and you can already picture the conversation with your parents at dinner tonight. they've been on your case about your grades, and if they find out about another flunked exam, well... that's a disaster you're not ready to deal with.
as you slam your locker shut with more force than necessary, you catch a glimpse of nanami kento. he's standing at his locker not far from yours, his face set in that calm, unreadable expression he always wears. neat, composed, a little too perfect, really. you've never spoken more than a few words to him in class, but he's hard not to notice. he's the kind of guy who seems like he has everything figured out—top of the class, disciplined, never flustered by anything.
you're about to turn away when a shrill voice rings through the hallway.
"nanami-kun!"
a group of girls is lingering nearby, one of them stepping forward with a bright, flirtatious smile. "are you free after school? maybe we could study together?"
the girl's voice is sweet, her smile almost rehearsed, like she's done this a hundred times before. it's no secret that nanami is one of the most sought-after guys in school, and girls are always trying to get his attention.
you pause, pretending to fix your bag as you watch out of the corner of your eye, already knowing how this will go.
without even looking up from his locker, nanami replies, "i'm busy."
his voice is polite but detached, and the girl's smile falters. she quickly tries to recover. "oh, well... maybe another time?"
nanami doesn't respond, continuing to organize his books like she's not even there.
the girl fidgets awkwardly before giving up, walking back to her friends with a disappointed shrug. you can hear them whispering and giggling as they retreat down the hall. you almost feel bad for her—but at the same time, it's no surprise. nanami has this way of effortlessly deflecting attention, and yet, that only seems to make people more interested in him.
you snap out of your thoughts, turning to leave, but as you sling your bag over your shoulder, you feel a presence beside you.
"hey."
the deep, calm voice startles you, and you turn to find nanami kento standing right next to you. your heart skips a beat. you're not used to him being this close, let alone speaking to you directly.
"uh, hey?" you reply, trying not to sound as confused as you feel. why is nanami kento talking to you of all people?
he glances around briefly, then lowers his voice, his expression serious. "i need to ask you for a favor."
your eyebrows shoot up. a favor? from nanami? you're intrigued, to say the least. "what kind of favor?"
he hesitates for a moment, his eyes flicking back to the group of girls still lingering at the end of the hallway. then, with that same calm composure, he says, "i need you to pretend to be my girlfriend."
what?
for a second, you're sure you misheard him. "excuse me?"
"a fake relationship," he clarifies. "it'll be temporary."
you blink at him, completely thrown off. this was not the kind of favor you were expecting.
"okay..." you say slowly. "why would you need a fake girlfriend?"
nanami's eyes shift toward the group of girls again, the faintest hint of annoyance crossing his features. "lately, i've been getting a lot of unwanted attention," he explains, his voice low but steady. "it's distracting, and i don't have the time or interest to deal with it."
you take a second to process his words, your mind still trying to catch up. the most composed, serious guy in school needs a fake girlfriend to fend off admirers? it almost sounds ridiculous. but then again... you look at him—stoic, serious, perfectly put-together. you can see why people would constantly try to break down his walls.
"and you think this'll work?" you ask, crossing your arms skeptically.
nanami's expression doesn't change. "yes. people will lose interest once they see i'm already in a relationship."
you chew your lip, still unsure. "okay, but... why me?"
he turns his gaze to you, his eyes steady. "because you're not caught up in that drama. you're not the type to spread rumors, and you're not interested in unnecessary attention."
he has a point. you've always kept a low profile, and you don't really involve yourself in school gossip. but still...
"and what's in it for me?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.
nanami doesn't hesitate. "i'll help you with whatever you need—homework, projects. you need help with math, don't you?"
your stomach flips at the mention of math. of course, nanami would know that. he's in your class, after all, and you've failed more than enough tests for it to be common knowledge by now. but still, hearing it from him—someone who probably never struggles with any subject—stings a little.
"how do you know that?" you mutter, crossing your arms defensively.
nanami raises an eyebrow, unfazed. "i've seen your test results. you're not bad in other subjects, but math is holding you back."
you're about to snap something back, but you stop yourself. he's right. you've been struggling in math all semester, and it's been dragging your grades down. if you fail one more test, your parents will lose it.
"and you're offering to tutor me?" you ask, the skepticism still clear in your voice.
nanami nods. "in exchange for this arrangement."
the offer is tempting—really tempting. it's not like you have any better ideas for improving your math grades, and having nanami, the top student, help you? that could actually save your skin. but at the same time, agreeing to a fake relationship with him? it's crazy.
you glance at nanami again. his expression is calm, composed, but there's something else in his eyes—something genuine. he's not asking for this because he wants attention or drama. he just wants peace.
after a long pause, you sigh. "fine. i'll do it."
for the first time, nanami's expression softens just a little—a flicker of relief, maybe. "thank you."
you smirk, a little more at ease now. "but if you flunk me in math, this deal is off."
nanami chuckles lightly—something you've never heard from him before. "you won't."
as you walk down the hallway together, the weight of the deal you've just made starts to sink in. you're about to dive into something completely unexpected, and who knows how this will all play out?
but one thing's for sure: your school year just got a whole lot more interesting.
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misctf · 3 months ago
Note
Hey, I'm a twin and decided to go the brains route while my brother went the brawn. We are not close anymore. Now that we are almost leaving our 20s next year I'd like to know what it have been like had I joined him in the gym.
It was a rare occurrence when you and your twin brother get together. But your birthday party was certainly the right occasion. Surrounded by family, you were trying to enjoy the moment. But no one wanted to hear about your academic works. They all seemed more interested in your twin’s fitness career and take on the latest football game. You tried to nod along and offer your input, but sports weren’t exactly your forte. Nor was fitness. Truthfully, the fact that you’re twins often surprises people. Usually, twins often follow similar paths and have somewhat similar interests. However, it was clear to anyone what you prioritized. His lean muscles, perfectly sculpted, stood in sharp contrast to your slim frame. Initially, you told yourself that this was good. Despite being twins, you were clearly individuals. As time went on though, and your relationship cooled, you wished that maybe you could rekindle.
When you blew out those candles, your wish was simple. You wanted to be closer. To see what life could’ve been like if you joined your twin in the gym all those years ago. You stared at the now unlit candles, a cold chill passing through you.
“Happy birthday, bro.” Your twin raises his fist.
You smile as you bump fists. But when you try to separate, you can’t. You look at one another, speechless. And he pulls desperately, trying to separate from you. But it feels like he’s pulling at your skin and the pain causes you both to wince. You quickly look around, hoping for some assistance from the others in the room. But they’re all frozen. As if time itself has come to a stop.
“Fuck! What’s happening?” He shouts.
Before you can reply, the feeling in your arm causes you to cry out. You both watch in terror and fascination as your arms start to merge. The feeling incredibly uncomfortable as flesh melds together. You try to push him away, but when your hand presses against his firm pecs, it quickly becomes stuck. And you watch in terror as it sinks into his flesh. His attempts to push you away yield similar results. And soon enough, you’re a horrific amalgamation of fusing flesh. Your bodies continue to melt into one another. Sickening cracks fill the room as more of you merge together. Your body heat increasingly significantly. And you watch as your merging arms take on a form even more muscular than your brother’s. You both look down as your pecs fuse to become two slabs of muscular meat. And as your heads begin to merge, you both cry out. You can feel your minds merging. The panicked thoughts of your brother entering your psyche. And then everything goes black.
When you eventually awaken, you realize you aren’t controlling your movements. Yet you can feel everything. The movements of your heavier, larger frame. Its unfamiliar to you. You want to call out. To ask for help. But all you can do is watch. And when your massive hand rubs your meaty pec, you shiver at the intense pleasure that courses through your new form.
“Bro?” You can hear your brother’s voice, “What’s happening? My body isn’t doing what I want it to.”
And it dawns on you. You share this space with your twin. The two of you trapped in this new form.
“I don’t know.” You reply.
The two of you gasp as the figure sits in front of the mirror. Now able to fully take in what you’ve become. A massive, muscular beast of a man.
“Fuck I look good.” He says in a deep baritone.
And you realize now. Out of the two of you, a third was born. His mind made up of several traits. Your brother’s love for fitness. Your obsessive, academic nature. Together, this new man is an absolute fitness beast. Obsessed with his muscles and growing as big as he can. And you’d get to watch. To experience it with your twin. The two of you just passengers in this man’s journey to become the biggest meathead on the planet. At least you’ll get to be closer with your twin. And trust me, you’ll be spending plenty of time with him in the gym.
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smallpwbbles · 4 months ago
Text
Learning
Finally got this one-shot finished, I know I keep talking about how I don't expect these stories to be as long as they are when I start writing but I am just flabbergasted I could write 9k in two days. Uni pebbles could never.
Anyway take this fic going over some of Maria and biolizard Shadow's time on the ARK
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Maria Robotnik knew many things about herself, her favourite colour was blue, she loved to read and draw, she’d prefer to pour the milk in her bowl before the cereal cause it’d get soggy faster otherwise and she really loved to look out the windows of the ARK observatory. 
The planet earth looked like such a small little thing from the view she was granted, but as she stood in the gigantic room, aboard the space colony, the little blue ball of earth gave her hope. Hope that someday she’d be away from the machinery and labs that did nothing but fill her with apprehension. 
She yearned for the many things her grandfather Gerald told her stories about, to feel the grass between her feet, to smell the air of the oceans. These fantasies made her feel warm and filled her with that hope, but woefully, Maria knew one other thing about herself. 
She was sick.
Maria Robotnik was a victim of disease and it slowly worked to hinder the small hope she garnered as she looked out the windows of the observatory. With every burst of excitement that came as Gerlad told his stories of the earth, came the concerning reminders of her sickness as she felt her lungs strain when she overworked herself. Maria wished she could run without feeling like her legs would collapse on her at any second, or sleep a good night's rest without worrying she’d wake up with a fever. 
But it was sad to say, she had to make due with these things. Maria believed this would be the routine of her life, until she was informed about her grandfather's latest project, she heard many of his scientists rave and rant about this project when Gerald didn’t think she was listening in. But Maria was a sneaky little thing when she wanted to be, unfortunately the most she was able to gather were inklings of a “ultimate life form”, whatever that meant. 
Her interest boiled over when her grandfather sat her down one night, he was absolutely buzzed with excitement and told her of all his findings, research and effort to find a cure for illness. Maria felt despondent when it came to her sickness, it was a horrible, disgusting, parasitic thing that was taking everything from her, but she was beginning to come to a sort of term where she’d just live with it. Her grandfather had already been doing so much with no results so she couldn’t help her apathy towards Gerald’s enthusiasm.
Though it did have something to do with that ultimate life form thing she had eavesdropped on, the perfect being that would have all the answers to all diseases? She didn’t doubt that her grandfather could do amazing with his intelligence, they were Robotniks! It was in their DNA to do great things. But the idea of something that could achieve feats as grand as curing all diseases was quite ludicrous. Maria kept that to herself as she didn’t want to curb her grandfather's elation. 
There wasn’t much on the project for her after that, Maria kept on with her stagnant life for many months, going from the usuals rounds of feeling normal to sudden long visits to the infirmary. It was a sad existence and Maria knew this, but it was the only existence she knew for herself. Maybe it was quite crazy to think this but better her than anyone else, she wouldn’t wish such a life on her worst enemy. 
The blond girl walked down the long corridors of the labs, she wasn’t really allowed to do so without permission but what her grandfather and the scientists didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. The corridors were dull and grey, she wished Gerald would allow her to maybe put up some drawings or just some cute decor, it did get boring walking down such drab walls. She was talking it slow as she was recovering from a recent fall, Maria had no idea what caused the spike in her temperature and neither did the scientists, it amazed her how quick her body could be to hinder itself.
The steely doors to Gerald’s private lab were presented in front of her, she pressed an ear to the door, lately when she took to creeping around the labs she could hear rushed voices and shuffling about, it was clear there was something pretty important happening as of late, Gerald had been quite absent from the recreation rooms and just in general. The last time she’d seen him was a couple days ago and he had that look she’d seen before, he was about to break through with something, she was sure. 
The code box to the right of the doors tempted her, she knew the code. A peek into his labs wouldn’t hurt. 
Maria meticulously entered her birthdate with the right keys, she was sure literally everyone knew the code but didn’t enter into restricted areas out of respect for principle. The doors slid apart and Maria felt a cold air flow around her body, there was nobody in the lab which worked heavily in her favour. 
Her heels clicked as she walked into the labs, there were notes strewn about and many coffee cups standing or thrown on top of the worktops, the amount of cups she saw told her an unhealthy amount of coffee was consumed in this room, however what caught her immediate attention was the middle of the room, she’d been the private lab before and was never presented with the gigantic test tube flowing with whatever green liquid was in there. 
The most important discovery of her observation was a little creature floating in the tube. Maria hesitantly approached the glass cylinder to get a closer look, the little thing was a hedgehog of sorts? Maria couldn’t safely say that as the little greyish black creature was full of a lot of red scales and had quite a long tail, almost as big as its entire torso. Though there  was one thing she couldn’t deny about the creature, it was stinking adorable.
“Maria?!” A voice yelled behind her, she felt her heart leap into her throat as she whipped around to find the source of the yell. Gerald was standing in front of the doors, he held a coffee cup in his wrinkly hand and looked absolutely swamped. “What are you doing here?! I was so worried when your caretaker said she couldn’t find you” 
“Oh- uh, Grandfather I’m sorry I just-“ her words fumbled about, she didn’t really have a good reason for being in here other than she got bored and missed her grandfather “I just… haven’t seen you in a bit and was wondering what the fuss was in your lab”
The old man sighed, he wasn’t mad at her, just concerned she was missing in the entire ark for a moment, he was just realising how scarce he himself had become from Maria and felt a tiny bit like a hypocrite “I apologise Maria, it’s just been quite hectic with the project”. 
“Are you the one with all these empty coffee cups grandfather” she questioned, the old man blushed at the accusation as he also hadn’t realised the ridiculous amount of caffeine he’d consumed in the past week let alone the past day, he decided he wouldn’t worry Maria with that fact though. 
“No, just the one” he shook the paper cup in his hand with emphasis. 
Maria seemed satisfied with that answer and turned her eyes back to the tube. Gerald hoped he could present this project when it was actually ready but he overestimated his granddaughter's patience. He walked to join Maria in front of the glass tube and put a hand to its surprisingly warm exterior.
“This, Maria, is project shadow” he announced, the little creature in the tube twitched at his voice but made no other movements, its eyes were screwed shut, it would move its head every so often slightly to the noises of the machinery that surrounded the labs. It scrunched up its itty bitty snout and Maria fought with the power of her ancestors to hold back a squeal. 
“This is to be your ultimate perfect creature grandfather?” The blond girl looked up at the old scientist, her tone sounded incredulous to Gerald.
“All that and more Maria, what do you think?” The scientist asked.
“Well that makes sense, it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life” Maria concluded.
Gerald raised a brow “Maria, my darling, it’s not the perfect creature because it’s cute”. While Gerald could agree his creature was small and therefore looked seemingly harmless, he felt a bit defensive at the idea that he had worked these many months to make a creature with the grand potential this one contained only to have it be called “cute”.
“Grandfather if you didn’t want me calling it cute you shouldn’t have made it cute” the girl lightly chided, she was just riling up the old man but she then watched as the tiny thing yawned, it had one little fang poking out of its gums and she almost started crying at the absolute adorableness of the tiny hedgehog, lizard thing.
“It has not finished growing Maria, we’re currently having Shadows growth accelerated as we are quite behind on the time frame of the project” Gerald explained.
“Shadow?” Maria looked to her grandfather “is that what your calling it” she asked 
“I think it’s quite a fitting name, its fur is actually going to look much darker in the next coming months” Gerald felt a bit shaken from all the caffeine he’d consumed and was going to double check on the validity of that claim later. 
“Shadow” she repeated as she watched the small thing float in the tube, she’d only just met the creature, but she loved him. Maria couldn’t explain the feeling that began warming her heart as she watched the infant in the tube, but she was reminded of how she felt when she looked down at the blue planet from time to time. 
It was that feeling that reminded her that not all was hopeless.
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Maria thanked the lady, who was entrusted with the duty of cafeteria leader today, as she was handed a few chocolate chip cookies. The plump lady was called Barb, she believed. Maria did her best to remember everyone she could on the ARK but her little 11 year old brain could only remember so many names. 
Barb was her favourite in the cafeteria because when Maria was on her best behaviour she’d be rewarded with treats from the kind lady, though today, as she carefully deposited the cookies in her pockets, she knew the treats would be of need for emergency use.
Shadow had grown considerably in the many months after Maria invited herself to Gerald’s lab and met the black creature for the first time. As an infant he wasn’t much bigger than her hands, and from time to time Gerald would give special permission for Shadow to be allowed out of his tube for closer inspection and testing. Once Maria had the chance to hold the tiny thing, she cradled him like a baby as he cooed and hiccuped in her arms. She thought she would ascend to heaven on the spot, he really was the cutest thing. 
Unfortunately he had grown too fast and much too big for her to do such a thing now, he was also a very quick learner as Shadow was quite cognizant, it was like there was a fast forward on the creature's ability to learn as he picked up on things just from observing. Teaching Shadow basic knowledge was a breeze for Gerald and his scientists and so it was for Maria, she mainly taught Shadow his manners and how to pull the perfect puppy doe eyes to sway people to get what you want. 
Maria loved discovering the facets of the little hedgehog’s personality, he soaked up the praise of all the scientists and other people aboard the ark when he did something asked of him successfully, Shadow didn’t talk much but Maria was sure if he did he’d be bragging a lot as he was starting to get a bit of an ego. 
The blond girl patted at the cookies in her pocket as she made her way to her accommodations, the current emergency she tasked herself with solving was due Shadows hubris ending up getting him into trouble, he’d recently joined Maria in her private studies with Gerald. The little creature was smart and Maria couldn’t deny that but she wouldn't say he was smarter than her grandfather. Shadow thought otherwise as the lesson she thought she’d be fighting sleep to get through turned into two people trying to one up the other.
The black hedgehog lizard stubbornly tried to correct the old man on a simple innocuous problem that Gerald wrote on the black board for him and Maria to solve. The scientist however was just as stubborn as he stood his ground that the answer he’d written next to the problem, right after Maria gave up on it, was in fact correct and Shadow needed to knock it off. It had been amusing at first watching the little hedgehog wipe off the chalk and rewrite the answer but as the two kept bickering, Maria just wanted to slam her face into her desk. How she wished she snuck in her sketchpad into today's lesson.
Shadow had edged towards a tantrum and absolutely lost his nerve when Maria intervened and begged him to give up in his pursuit to be right. Gerald had just face palmed when the hedgehog ran away clearly feeling ganged up on “I put way too much of us robotnik's into that boy”.
Maria had to agree, because now she was in her room trying to coax Shadow out from under her bed. The little guy always hid out under her berth when he was upset, Maria could recall doing so herself at a younger age. Despite probably being mad at the blond girl for not taking his side, he couldn’t help but seek out comfort in the darkness from underneath her bed.
“Shadow? Won’t you come out please” Maria begged, she bent down and poked a hand under the covers that hid the darkness underneath her bed, in response Shadow swiped at her fingers as she quickly pulled them back. She noticed his claws were unsheathed when he swiped, he was clearly really upset. 
“Sorry, sorry I won’t make you come out if you don’t want to” the girl apologised, she did however retrieve a cookie from her pocket and placed it right in front of the space Shadow was occupying, she sat on her knees patiently and waited to see if he’d take the bait. 
She watched as a clawed furred and scaly hand slowly revealed itself from the darkness, it quickly swiped at the cookie and brought it into the darkness. Maria waited a few seconds, it usually took Shadow a minute to come out of the covers after being given a bribe. 
Just as she had predicted, Shadow poked out his head to make eye contact with her, his face seemed a little red and his muzzle was tear stained. She opened up her arms inviting Shadow to come into her embrace. 
The little creature hesitated for a second before nearly bowling her over with how quickly he crawled into her arms, Maria brought her arms to cradle to him, he certainly wasn’t a baby anymore as he came up to about her waist height wise but she couldn’t help but still try cradle him like one, she even rocked slightly as that always seemed to help calm him when he was like this. 
She brought a hand up to his head to stroke at his quills, it was a weird feeling as her hand caressed his spines to his scales, she wondered what it was like to be a mammal yet also reptilian. She could feel Shadow begin to purr slightly, Maria wouldn’t say it around the black hedgehog but he was the cutest thing, he’d grown tired of her calling him that after about the fifteenth time so she made a point to only do in her head now. 
“You are so smart Shadow but if you have something to prove you shouldn’t just blindly argue with Grandfather, he’s as stubborn as you and won’t listen if you do that” she scolded the hedgehog.
Shadow looked up at her, his face was flat as he didn’t look like he wanted to be lectured at that moment, but Maria didn’t want him arguing with her grandfather, it made studying much worse than it could already be sometimes.
The hedgehog instead nuzzled his face into her waist, she wasn’t sure if he had acknowledged what she just said but her attention was taken off his apathetic attitude to the pile of scales that lay on her skirt, probably pulled off as he rubbed his head into her torso, she picked at one and held it to her face.
“Gosh you're shedding a lot, I hope you're not getting bigger, you're already hard enough to hold at this size” she complained, the hedgehog on her lap looked unstirred by the idea. 
She wondered how she was going to get him to apologise to Gerald for ending studies early due to his little outburst, shadow looked like he’d rather take a nap right in her lap and he looked rather adorable so she was edging towards letting him. Maria calmed her thoughts as she decided she’d let the hedgehog off just for today. She was sure her grandfather was making himself busy somewhere and probably already put the tantrum aside.
The girl began to stroke at the little hedgehog's head of quills and Shadow in response started up his purring again. Everything would be fine.
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Everything was not fine, it had all started going downhill a couple months after that incident during studies. Maria wondered if there was some higher power or something that just wanted a laugh and made Maria and her loved ones the victims for some hardships that began taking place.
Shadow by all accounts was a perfect being or at least should have been, he was strong, fast, could harness this power that Maria was told was chaos energy. He healed so quickly after even the largest injuries, most of which he would get during tests that Maria was not well informed about. However the scientist couldn’t have foreseen the extent of Shadow's progress.
The hedgehog grew, the escalation of his size was alarming at first. He began reaching the torsos of many average height humans on the ARK, the alarm turned to panic when he shot up well past that overnight. Becoming double the height of even the average person of Shadows species had made the scientists scramble for answers, Gerald was absolutely stunned with the mutation Shadow developed. 
As the hedgehog did not stop growing, his body fought to keep up with the rate of enlargement. Shadow had  become poorly as a result of his heart struggling to provide sufficient blood flow around the body. He should have been fine but as his body kept increasing his heart had to constantly readjust to how much work was required to keep his blood flow steady. 
Maria hadn’t seen Shadow in some weeks as an outcome of this event. She sat on her desk as she struggled to gain motivation to draw. The pencil barely scratched at the paper of her sketch pad as her frustration grew, she chucked the pencil across the room and threw her head into her hands. 
She felt sick and not because of the aching disease that ate away at her cells, Shadow was in the labs being poked and prodded as the scientists did their best to keep him alive. It wasn’t supposed to be him in pain, wondering if he’d make it through the day. It should have been her like it always was. She had never wished this pain on anyone, so why was Shadow being punished because she couldn’t be well?
The page her pencil had only barely touched was ripped right off the metal spirals that held her sketchbook together. She tore the page into pieces, shoving all her frustrations into desecrating the empty page. The paper had done nothing wrong but Maria couldn’t think of anything else to alleviate all the negative thoughts that swarmed in her brain. 
She wanted to see Shadow so badly. Tell him it was all going to be okay, hold his hand in hers and just be there by his side. Maria didn’t even know if he was okay.
It was like the universe was listening to her, as the doors to her room abruptly opened, surprising her. She stood up to face the intruder, who happened to be Gerald. The old scientist looked rugged, it was clear he hadn’t had a good night's sleep, as evident from the bags under his eyes Maria could see even through his glasses. It seemed the old man was about to greet her but Maria’s voice was faster than her manners “grandfather, is shadow-“
“Settle down Maria” the scientist quickly interrupted whatever word vomit that was about to erupt from the girl. He walked over to her desk and placed a hand to her shoulder and guided the two of them to her bed to take a seat. “Shadow is stable, we’ve done everything we can for him for now, but only time will tell how he’ll recover”. 
“Did you figure out why he started growing so big, grandfather?” She couldn’t help but ask, it was part of the Robotnik charm being so curious. 
“There’s too many variables that we couldn’t point down, it could be his chaos energy, possibly something mutating with his additional lizard DNA, maybe even an effect of the accelerant we had him under, we aren’t too sure at the moment Maria my dear. Our focus was just stopping the growth before it got too much for Shadow to handle” Gerald explained, he felt irate at not being able to determine the main cause of Shadow's recent mutation. 
The hedgehog was a one of a kind being and Gerald couldn’t just watch Shadow waste away and start over. The scientist and his team had invested their lives into the project and Gerald’s attachment has grown too great. 
Maria looked down as she fiddled with her hands, she appreciated her grandfather for being honest with her about Shadow’s condition, even though the details wrenched her heart to hear. It was nothing compared to what shadow was most likely going through.
“May I see him?” her voice was quiet, she really didn’t expect Gerald to let her but she had to ask.
“Maria I don’t think that’s a good idea-“ she’d expected him to say that but it didn’t stop her from screwing her face, her eyes felt hot but she didn’t want any tears escaping them. 
“Please, please may I just see him grandfather” Maria turned to her Gerald, she had an idea of what her face looked like but she wasn’t even attempting an usual expression that would sway the old man, her face bore her anguish and the second Gerald looked down at her face he knew he didn’t have the strength to say no. 
The scientist sighed as he stood and placed a hand to offer, Maria would usually be jumping for joy at the success of being able to see Shadow when he was in the labs but this time when she took the scientist's aged hand, she was scared. She was afraid of what had become of Shadow, what would she come to find when she saw him she wondered. 
Her thoughts weren’t left unanswered for long, when Gerald had taken his granddaughter to the labs she was introduced to an entirely new section, it reminded her of the zoo she’d seen in a picture once. It was a gigantic space that had large windows that let people view from the outside which was where Gerald had taken her instead of directly Inside the enclosure. However what was inside the enclosure was a large beast, it was larger than large, it was huge to Maria. It was so huge she could hear the things breathing, It was very laboured and it made the girl feel sympathy.
It only took her a moment to identify the familiar black quills and red scales, she was flabbergasted that she was presented with Shadows presence in all his gigantic glory, she’d only not realised it was shadow because of how pale he looked as well as the fact that a behemoth lay in place instead of the three foot creature she was used to. 
Maria could just barely see his face which was currently covered by his arms, he looked flushed and his face kept crumpling in what she assumed to be pain, he was sleeping fitfully. A lump formed in her throat as she watched the beast lay there in suffering, she balled up her fists and before Gerald could do a thing she slammed her fists into the glass of the enclosure. 
Maria couldn’t think of a concrete reason for doing that, it wouldn’t have solved anything, slamming the glass wouldn’t have magically made Shadow better. Maybe she wanted to spread her pain literally anywhere that wasn’t just her, maybe the glass just looked really annoying and deserved the hit. All she knew after the fact was she really shouldn’t have slammed the glass. 
One of Shadows' gigantic and significantly fluffier ears perked up at the source of the noise and he painstakingly lifted his head in the direction of Maria and Gerald. The girl hadn’t even noticed her grandfather scolding her for attacking the glass as Shadow began making his way towards them, the windows they observed him from was at a notably higher higher platform than the one Shadows enclosure was built at, but the height difference was no problem for the hedgehog as his new height made it easier for him to cross the dissimilarity. 
Maria felt ashamed of the sudden fear that struck her as the monstrous hedgehog took earth shaking steps towards where she stood, Gerald had finally noticed as he watched the girl's face turn white and turned to the source of his granddaughter's fear. His eyes abruptly widened, Shadow was not meant to be up just yet. Gerald and his team had continuously worked for weeks to halt the upsurge of growth that literally could have killed Shadow had they not. An idea formed around the scientists to create something to inhibit Shadows powers as the hypothesis between them was that it was a combination of Chaos energy and Shadows overall unstable DNA that was mutating him 
Everyone was relieved when the  plan worked well in execution and the hedgehog had indeed stopped enlarging. Gerald had measured the hedgehog and Shadow was capped off at exactly about thirty-five feet. He now wore brown metal cuffs that were equipped with additional tools to monitor the hedgehog's condition. The old man thought they were quite an eyesore on his project so he declared the cuffs would be a prototype until he and his team could develop something better, given that Shadows rapid increase in size was quite abrupt and his team had to act quickly.
“Maria stand behind me” Gerald commanded, the girl was frozen in place as Shadow haphazardly placed a claw to the window of the enclosure right in front of where she stood. His claw was so huge he could crush her in seconds if he wanted, Maria scolded herself for such a thought. Shadow would never do so. She felt her arm being tugged as she was carefully pulled behind her grandfather, he pulled a device from his pocket that Maria couldn’t really identify until she heard him talk into it. His voice was low and calm but she could hear a spike of panic in it.
Her attention was taken away from the old man when she heard creaking, and then cracking. Her blood turned to ice when she realised the weight Shadow was putting on the windows were making them break, she wanted to yell at the hedgehog to stop but her throat was not eager to listen to her commands, she was too afraid, she was just a useless sick and afraid girl. 
“I believe he is feverish, you will need to come in carefully and administer the sedative” she heard Gerald instruct into the walkie talkie like device. 
In the corner of her eye she looked into the other side of the enclosure, away from where Shadow currently stood. Two scientists apprehensively walked into the gigantic rooms, they were armed with something that looked like a weapon, were they going to hurt Shadow? Maria wanted to speak up but she was still frozen still behind her grandfather. The old scientist himself was standing still, he didn’t want any sudden movements to irritate or confuse the hedgehog, if Shadow broke through the glass, Gerald didn’t know if he and Maria could move away in time to prevent injury. 
Maria could see the scientists whispering harshly to each other, from the distance she was at she obviously couldn’t hear their words but she deduced from their movements they were arguing about who should use their weapon on the distracted hedgehog, in their bickering the taller scientist between the two suddenly and accidentally fired off their weapon. 
A syringe blasted off with smoke trailing it and got Shadow right in the calf, the hedgehog yipped in response and accidentally leaned his entire arm weight into the window. Maria didn’t know what was happening in that moment as glass shattered and she felt herself be shielded as the old man in front of her took the brunt of the glass, there was yelling and panic as she heard the two scientists in the enclosure scream at each other. 
There was a angry roar she was sure came from a provoked Shadow, the sound of shots rang throughout the enclosure as she held on for dear life to her grandfather, her heart couldn’t stop racing, the room shook as Shadow lunged for the scientists that had shot off more sedatives in the their panic at the hedgehogs provokation. They sped towards the steel doors leading out of Shadows enclosure before he could get his claws on the squealing duo. The doors shut quickly as Shadow practically rammed himself into them.
Maria felt her ears ringing, there was just too much going on, her heart felt like it was going to explode out of her chest, it was painful. There were concerned shouts as scientists and other ARK personnel entered the hallway of the enclosure viewing. The floor was covered in so much glass as were Gerald and Maria, she was shielded well from the accidental attack so she only felt the littlest pricks of tiny glass that flew onto her bare legs. She couldn’t identify if her Grandfather was as lucky as she was, her head just felt so light. 
The scientists began examining the blond girl and her grandfather as they were rushed to exit the enclosure. Maria could only spare a couple seconds to look back at Shadow. The gigantic hedgehog lizard looked absolutely distressed, he had done a number on the steel doors as they were covered in claw marks and dented from punches Shadow threw in pursuit to get the doors open. He was on his hands and knees and wobbled due to the effects of the sedatives. The beast turned to catch her eyes in those spare seconds, Maria knew that look he gave, his pleading eyes told her everything.
“I need you”.
Maria felt her eyes droop as the stress of the situation finally caught up to her and she knew no more as she felt herself be pulled to unconsciousness. 
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The ARK was permeated with tension and quietude the past couple weeks. It was like the atmosphere itself was affecting the residents of the ARK as almost everyone aboard the ship was in low spirits. Gerald had been released from the infirmary a while ago, he hadn’t been too harmed by the glass the day of the incident, however the doctors and nurses didn’t want to risk anything as the scientists was still a fragile old man. He was eager to leave the recovery room as soon as he could, he had so much work to do concerning Shadow.
The enclosure had been rebuilt from the ground up, it was double reinforced to prevent such an incident from happening again. The windows and walls held strong as Shadow was monitored in the large room. He had slept for quite a while after the event due to all the sedatives that were carelessly shot into him. Gerald had reprimanded the two scientists of his endlessly for their actions.
 He understood the situation was not the easiest to deal with but he couldn’t have his team panicking the way these two did if such an incident was to occur again. Training would have to be implemented to any new personnel hired into his team. 
The old scientist was busy working on blueprints for what he hoped would be the final version of his device to help Shadow, the perfect inhibitor rings that would perfectly cap off Shadow's immense power and prevent any further mutations. Gerald ignored any advice from his teammates to take a break, he was quite engrossed in his notes and wanted the prints to be just right.
As his brain stormed with new ideas to add to the inner workings of the rings but  his mind ended up wandering to his granddaughter. Maria had recovered from the incident, he terribly regretted putting the girl in the situation. She could have seriously been hurt, Gerlad couldn’t have foreseen the events playing out as they did but he was her guardian and should've known better. 
However it perturbed the old man when he instructed she was to go nowhere near Shadows enclosure until he deemed it safe, she readily agreed with his command which was so unlike her. Such a prospect would usually have her arguing with the scientist for hours. Maria was a sickly thing but she could really stand her ground when pushed enough. 
He knew how close his granddaughter had become to his project, the two were kind of like siblings in the way they would act. Shadow could be quite the troublemaker when he wanted to be and annoyed Maria sometimes until she was begging the old man to put him back in the labs, and other times she’d be scolding the scientist for checking in on them so much when Maria had Shadow hiding in her accommodations. He’d find them in a makeshift pillowfort doing who knows what in the mountain of pillows. Usually Maria was styling his quills and decorating them with whatever adorable trinkets she owned. 
He missed how elated he saw Maria with Shadow's presence, he hoped that this experience hadn’t deterred the girl from wanting to see shadow. Gerald would allow her to do so in time but he himself felt uneasy with Shadows' new state and knew his scientists and himself needed time to adjust. 
Maria didn’t know what she was doing as she lay face planted down in her bed. In the time since Shadow had been provoked and nearly attacked those scientists, she couldn’t bring herself to even try and see him. Every time she thought about it her heart would begin thumping faster in her chest, she thought about Shadows looming and intimidating presence when he was up so close to the glass. His gigantic claw as the windows fractured from his immense weight leaning on them. The way she could feel her entire body vibrate at the strength of his footfalls.
Shadow was dangerous now, there was no denying that. He was always dangerous before, Gerald always reminded the girl of the immense power Shadow had lying dormant, but he never used it on or around her. The most she’d see was his chaos energy flickering when he was having a tantrum, but this never put the absolute trepidation in her that the gigantic Shadow from a few weeks ago did. 
This was stupid Maria decided, as she sat up on her bed. She turned to her wall that was full of doodles she’d put up with some tape. It was mostly drawings of things she’d wanted to do when she got to earth someday, she took note of the one drawing that was Shadows. She had to beg the hog to let her put it up as he was quite self conscious about his artistic abilities at the time. It wasn’t the best drawing in the world but she loved it because it was a crude drawing of Shadow and herself. Maria was honoured to be the muse of the artistic piece and treasured the little piece of paper.  
Fear of the monstrous hedgehog or not, she missed him. 
She felt guilt build in her chest, she’d been avoiding the hedgehog for so long now. A strong wave of determination overwhelmed her guilt as she tried to gain the persistence to make action. Shadow was her friend and he wasn’t himself during that incident. She recalled his face when she managed to catch a look back at him before she was carted right to the infirmary. 
Maria wished she told him she was right there and it would be okay. There was no reason she couldn’t do that now though. Apart from her grandfather catching her in the act and grounding her for life. Honestly though, being grounded felt better than the guilt currently swarming in her chest. 
Whilst she’d only been to the enclosure once, the trek there the first time had been so cemented in her mind it was no problem making her way there again. Maria had to deter a few scientists that passed her direction and questioned what she was up to and if she was okay which she appreciated. She didn’t want them immediately reporting her presence to Gerald so she kept the conversation light and simple. 
She got a bit sneaky when she got to the labs, keeping herself discreet behind some crates full of things she couldn’t identify. When the coast was clear she found herself face to face with the corridor, the same corridor that allowed a view into the enclosure. Maria felt her heart beginning to pump faster and her palms get sweaty. She wanted to scream at her fear and tell it to pipe down but she remembered her grandfather once telling her fear is an irrational thing, Maria had every reason to be afraid but she just didn’t want to be. 
Her heels clicked as she took slow paced steps down the corridor, her mouth felt dry as she noticed the windows were good as new. No evidence that a feverish giant hedgehog had previously tore a hole through them. Speaking of the giant hedgehog, Maria was greeted by his presence as she stood a couple feet from the windows. She wasn’t frozen in place like she was last time but she couldn’t help but stand in awe of his stature. 
He looked much better compared to the pale and sickly hedgehog she saw before. His breathing looked much better, his crimson scales were practically shining anew and his quills looked strong and healthy. Maria could only spy the behind of his head as he lay turned away from her, he was quite a thing to behold.
Maria hadn’t even realised she walked over and put her hands to the glass. It was only when she saw his head perk up and look toward her did she quickly remove herself from the window and return his stare. How did he know she was there?
There was a stare off for a moment as it seemed like Shadow couldn’t believe she was actually there. She felt her cheeks heat up as she was sure she looked quite silly. Suddenly she watched as the hedgehog rose to his hind legs and moved himself to a corner of the enclosure. It was a part of the giant room that was lightly obscured from view of the observation platform unless Maria walked herself down the corridor a bit more. Was Shadow trying to hide himself? From her? 
Her fear began to fizzle a little, instead replaced by curiosity. The giant hedgehog began to curl into himself, it looked like he was trying to make himself smaller, he was failing unfortunately. It was a sad sight and Maria felt her insides shrivel, in all this time she was wallowing in her inability to not be afraid, to be stronger, it hadn’t even occurred to her what this change felt like to Shadow. 
She couldn’t imagine what it was like to see the world change around you only for your body to be the only thing to change, and for everything to become unaccustomed to yourself. But there Shadow was trying to gain some semblance of control, clearly trying to not frighten the poor blond girl by his mere existence. 
She needed to get down there. 
Maria hurried down the corridor, forgetting her previous efforts to be sneaky and avoid attention.  She whipped her head around the environment and her observation was rewarded with some stairs leading down the platform towards the enclosure, she spied some steel doors at the bottom which she was sure led inside.
The blond girl wasted no time sprinting down the steps, she was hit with a bit of clarity to slow down when a wave of dizziness passed over her,  she was then greeted with a code box next to the doors. She really hoped her grandfather would never change the password, it was so easy to guess it honestly felt kind of cruel the little effort she put when she entered her birthdate. 
Maria was annoyed when she felt that little twinge of fear come back as she entered the enclosure. Unlike the windows there were still clear huge claw markings maimed on the other side of the doors and walls, it seemed Gerald and his team hadn’t had time yet to sort it out and it was a good reminder to Maria that she wasn’t supposed to be in there yet. 
The rest of the enclosure looked the same as the last time she was introduced to it, but honestly her memories of the enclosure were so repressed she couldn’t accurately compare. It was still the same gigantic empty room except there was a giant hedgehog huddling in one of the corners of it.
Shadow was really trying to put himself in that corner. He looked absolutely dismayed that Maria had actually come into the room, he did what he could to make himself look as least threatening as possible as he lay on his front and covered his head with his arms. If Maria didn’t know any better she’d say the monstrous hedgehog was afraid of her.
“Shadow?” Maria called out, she gaped at the black hedgehog as he seemed to flinch at her voice. She heard a whine rumble from out of him and it tore at the heart.
The blond girl wondered what to do, Shadow was clearly distressed by her presence. She didn’t want someone coming by only to catch her in here before she could make things right. 
She trudged dubiously to the giant hedgehog as his whines pitched up, there was one of his claws covering up his large head. It was just as big and petrifying as the last time she was approached with the claw, it hit Maria why he’d even put his hand to the glass last time. He wanted her, he always wanted her when he was upset, even if he could be obstinate with his affection he always held it out towards her. She wanted to facepalm at the fact she let her fear overwhelm her so much that she didn’t realise it sooner.
Maria took her own palm to his oversized claw, his scales felt so smooth as she began to pet them, she could feel he was trembling slightly, this only ignited her to continue in her efforts. Shadow slowly took the claw she was comforting off his face, she saw his strained expression and saw fat globby tears threatening to roll down his muzzle. Maria wished she could just collect Shadow up into her arms and rock him like she used to but he was way beyond a point where she could even attempt that.
“I’m here, I’m not going anywhere” her heart wasn’t hammering in her chest anymore, rather it beat proudly as she kept her cool and looked up at the massive hedgehog, he kept his hands to himself, clearly he was well informed of what he had done while in the incoherent state he was in previously. He didn’t want Maria to come to harm like she almost had on the observatory. 
“It was an accident, look! Not even a scratch” she emphasised by waving her arms, the little scars where glass had broken her skin begged to differ but Shadow didn’t need to know about that.
The hedgehog sniffled, she watched his face scrunch up as she did so. Maria made an attempt to wipe at the tear on his left cheek that lost its battle trying not to fall. He moved his face away from her slightly, clearly words alone weren’t gonna convince him she meant her words. 
Shadow choked on nothing as Maria marched up to his other claw that happened to be near her, she made an attempt to heave up a finger and curl it around herself. Shadow in response made an attempt to become as still as a statue, did she not realise the danger she was in right now? He was beginning to grow irritated. 
Maria smiled smugly at the hedgehog's incredulousness and curled the finger around herself tighter “I’ve got your hand all to myself now! Are you gonna do anything to stop me?” The girl challenged. 
Shadow brought his snout closer to Maria as he growled in warning at her, she felt his growls vibrate through every nerve in her body but she kept her composure, she noticed how he curled his other fingers around her. It was such a gentle unconscious gesture, it was kind of funny how Shadow could bore such an angry expression while literally cradling her in a claw. 
Her smug smile disappeared as she placed a palm to his thumb. “See, your so annoyed at me but haven’t done anything to hurt me” she pointed out 
Shadow ceased his growls and took a moment to comprehend Maria’s statement. Before she entered his enclosure that day he was lost in his head thinking about the changes to his person, his body felt like a prison. When he moved it made the scientists that took readings of him flinch. If he made a sound they would brace their ears in case he was too loud. It was all so much and happened so fast. He was small and somewhat normal once and suddenly wasn’t.
Then Maria had seen him, his thoughts weren’t coherent then, he had just seen her and wanted nothing more but to be by her side and hear her talk about the things she got up to that day, he’d only realised something was amiss when he felt a throbbing pain in his leg, by then the damage had been done and his massive body had accidentally caused damage to the enclosure and in doing so to Maria and Gerald. 
The old man had greeted him after the fact with apprehension, Shadow knew the scientist was doing his best to not seem afraid but he could just feel it in the way Gerald talked. He was just like the other scientists that flinched and kept away, Gerald could just hide it better
Maria wouldn’t even come see him. He didn’t bother asking about her, why would she want to  after what he did. 
But she was here now, in his claw, by his side like she always said she’d be. 
The thought made his eyes well up again as he brought his head down on the ground at level with Maria, she felt his previously tense claw relax around her as did his entire body. She joined him on the ground as she made an effort to get whatever she could of his muzzle onto her lap, she mostly got a face full of fur but she was the best she could do. 
“Your shedding is going to make people so annoyed” she complained as his muzzle fur clung onto her dress when she moved her torso off his face. She felt a series of vibrations go through her and the floor but then realised he was chuckling. 
“No seriously, you know what, I bet I could ask someone to knit a sweater with all this fur you have now. Think of the possibilities and all the sweaters we could get out of this Shadow” she chatted on.
Shadow had missed her little rambles that tended to tangent onto other things, it was always hard to keep track of but he just loved listening to her talk. He loved Maria. 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Maria get off of Shadow this INSTANT” Gerald exasperated.
“I will not. I am perfectly comfortable here and see no reason to come down” Maria replied nonchalantly. 
“Maria I do not have time for your games we are behind schedule on tests and you are in the way, come down” Gerald commanded, Maria could swear a vein was popping out of his bald head. 
“The only way I’m coming down is if someone comes up and gets me” she folded her arms in emphasis. 
Gerald raised his arms in defeat and stomped out of the enclosure, Maria leaned over Shadows red scaly torso to double check he was out before swiping at her forehead, she thought he’d never give up. 
She was feeling quite rebellious when she woke up that day. She wanted to do things her way or the highway, which meant being a good member of society and completing her studies which she guessed wasn’t actually rebellious. 
But it truly kicked in when she was rejected from spending time with Shadow today, Gerald and his scientists had recently been testing out the limits of Shadows chaos energy after applying the finished inhibited rings to Shadows wrists and ankles. Maria told the titanic hedgehog the gold rings made him look snazzy in which Shadow couldn’t help but strike a cool pose down at her. He was so adorable.
But she hadn’t seen him in a couple days and decided now was the time to abuse her power as she formed a one woman strike when she entered into the gigantic room without permission and told Shadow to put her upon his chest. He was so jarred by her confident yet commanding aura that he didn’t protest and simply did as she instructed. 
The argument that ensued between her and Gerald was kind of worth the confusion as the girl had the old man so riled up he simply stormed out of the room. Shadow had no idea Maria held such power to sway the scientist like that, it was usually with a puppy eyed face she had to get her way but that was beginning to get old. 
As she sat on the gigantic hedgehog's chest she was open to his heart hammering in his torso. She could feel it beating right under her, it was accompanied by his breathing which made Maria feel good for some reason. She was always alert on her own breathing in case something was amiss and she needed to report it to the nearest doctor or her grandfather. Maria guessed she felt better knowing Shadow was healthy.
The hedgehog lay spread out with his arms folded and cushioned under his quills. He was at a perfect ease and Maria couldn’t be more than glad to see him as such. 
Shadow had grown to be really confident in interacting with the tiny people around him, Maria could barely remember her previous fear and apprehension at Shadow's stature, he was just so tender in how he held her in his palms. The worst he'd gotten that Maria could recall was when he’d cupped her in his two claws a little two tight but it was an unfortunate quick reaction to Gerald calling her for lunch that had surprised Shadow. He was normally so perceptive to people coming in and out of his enclosure so he was quite embarrassed by the slip up.
Maria saw Shadow's head turn towards the enclosure entrance and did so as well, there stood Gerald, the man’s face was flat as he whipped his head back to the doors behind him, he simply said “Tony get her”.
Tony? That was one of the bio engineers on the project, he was such a lovely fella and treated Shadow so well that he actually gained the privilege of being allowed to touch Shadow, most people would get a growl in response to unwanted
physical contact with the hedgehog. 
She watched as a hulking form sped past Gerald and hopped up onto Shadows tail, Maria released her strike was about to come to an end, she twirled around to her last resort “Shadow! Hide me in your quills! Quick!”.
The giant hedgehog's eyes bore into her for a moment before a smirk spread across Shadows face, his fangs poked out as he shrugged and went back to looking comfortable. Maria was aghast that the hedgehog would do this to her. Tony had made his way to Maria’s spot on Shadows chest and gently lunged for the girl “sorry little miss, got strict orders to getchu outta here so we can get back to work” at least he sounded apologetic. She swore she could feel and hear a rumble from Shadows chest, the traitor had the absolute audacity to laugh at her plight.
Maria’s effort to grab at Shadows chest fur was a feeble effort as she stood no chance against Tony’s muscley form, she was a sickly little girl and she knew it meant she’d be removed from her strike that was against the oppression of doing as you are told. Tony walked towards the doors with Maria in tow as Gerald’s eyes cut into her like knives “to your room young lady”. 
She glanced a look back at the gigantic hedgehog, oh how she loved him but as she learned today, betrayal never came from your enemies.
If anything she guessed she learned something new about herself today. She was a sucker for revenge and Shadow was definitely going to get it once she was ungrounded from whatever punishment Gerald had in store for her 
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forcedagere · 4 months ago
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I personally really like the idea of Bill x Reader x Ford. This one kinda ties into my previous post, but it’s not required reading. I suppose this would be an AU where Ford accepted Bill’s offer during Weirdmaggedon, or something else went wrong resulting in Bill staying in power :)
Contents: forced age regression, yandere, implied mental manipulation
Whereas Bill is far from the best caretaker (though he tries, in his own way), Ford takes care to create a semblance of structure in your life. He doesn’t have tons of practical experience with children or little ones such as you, but he makes up for it with dedication. He takes to caring for you as if it were a newly discovered, fascinating field of study. In other words… He reads many, many books, and tries all kinds of things to figure out what you like best.
Ford is not entirely fond of the kind of dynamic you have with Bill. It's not because he doesn't want to be referred to with parental terms, that's simply a matter of preference, but that he insists on you being friends above anything else. Considering the dynamics at play here, Ford cannot help but view it…
"As simply pedagogically irresponsible, Bill." The triangle in question rolls his eye. "Oh, boohoo! Fancy McFancypants over here knows what’s up!” Bill glances at you from the corner of his eye. Seeing you crack a smile while you’re sketching away with your crayons, he’s encouraged. “You read one book on how to raise a kid, and now you wanna tell me what to do? Get lost. Kid, c'mon, prove him wrong-- I'm your favourite, right?" You look up from your latest piece of art. You are drawing all three of you, in fact. You're usually deaf to their arguments, it's such a constant that you've grown used to the noise and stopped viewing it as a threat. (Your daddy calls it 'bickering'; Billy, when daddy isn't listening, calls it 'flirting'. That makes you giggle.) But you don't like getting involved in it yourself! So you firmly shake your head, and drop the pacifier attached to your necklace to speak. "No favourites… I love you both," you say with the confidence only someone as little as you could have. Billy's eyelid flutters, and your daddy smiles.
To put it simply, Bill is the ‘fun, rule-breaking parent’ and Ford is… A little less that. One should not take Bill Cipher as the benchmark of taking good care of a human, though.
Ford will make sure your meals are more varied than the endless stream of candy that Bill feeds you, and get you tucked in for sleep at regular times, too. Compared to Bill, who enjoys playing games with you and ‘roughhousing’, Ford prefers calmer activities. He’s definitely up for the occasional board game, but, most of the time, he’ll read to you, make drawings upon requests (or give you lessons!), or toy around with science experiments safe for someone who gets the urge to put anything that looks interesting inside their mouth.
He might’ve taken you for an adventure or two outside, but… The world hasn’t been the same since Bill got his hands all over it. He may be technically immortal now. You decidedly are not, as far as he knows. Either way, he doubts that Bill would let you out of this room to begin with. He doesn’t have to ask to be able to know that. If there is any reason he would keep someone locked up the way he does with you, it must be because you have some form of special connection to him. Ford does not believe he would risk that.
Really, Ford isn’t stupid or blind. It’s not that he’s going along with all of this because he is ignorant of Bill’s manipulation of your mental state. Bill can call it a ‘nudge in the right direction’ all he wants. He’s keeping you regressed. But everything has changed. He has changed, and Ford doesn’t know if he made the right decision. He fears he hasn’t. (Somewhere out there, in an alternate universe, a Stanford must live who made a difference decision. Ford hopes he’s happy.)
Spending time in this little contained room, with something dependent on him and eager to be looked after by him, who doesn’t know better and never will… It’s not good, it’s the very definition of selfish, but it’s comforting to him. Grounding, in a sense. With an eternity of time left ahead of him and the foundations of his previous life all but crumbled, he has something steady to return to. It doesn’t matter how much he rationalizes it. It’s twisted and fucked up, plain and simple.
…He supposes he can understand why Bill finds him so amusing, even now.
A little whimper snaps him from the spiral of his thoughts. Your bottle is empty. He should get youa refill, then pull you back on his lap.
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lina-studen · 11 months ago
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theory time: what unites all the students at nevermore academy?
tw: death, violence, blood, all the bad & sad stuff.
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considering that nevermore academy is a kind of purgatory, there has to be a reason why it holds such a small number of people. in this realm must be plenty of places where different people, united by one characteristic, end up after death. this was also confirmed by the authors.
for a long time now I've been following the theory that all the characters of "nevermore" are united by the way they died. namely, they all were murdered.
almost from the very beginning of the story we were aware that annabel lee was murdered. the same thing was stated in the latest chapters too.
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ada was clearly also brutally murdered by the nobleman she loved. the poor girl's body was probably never found. I'm afraid no one really looked for it though.
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recently we also learned that duke didn’t just drown. his magical performance was sabotaged by a person unknown to us.
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the cause of pluto's death was not specified in detail, but I'm inclined to believe that he was strangled by his tyrant father (and my baby felt a huge relief, I'm crying).
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berenice was hit by a car, but I'm pretty convinced that it counts (?), because she was running away from a bad person. especially if we take into account the story of the poe's character with the same name.
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oh, and I almost forgot about montresor, although there have been a lot (too much) of him lately. well, he was thrown under a train. not much to add.
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the only people who stand out from the general pattern so far are prospero and eulalie. eulalie died in a fire. the exact cause of prospero's death is unknown to us, but with a high probability it was caused by some kind of disease, presumably the plague. however, I wouldn't rush to write these two off. the fire could have been the result of arson. not necessarily for the sake of killing poor eulalie. but in any case it's a deliberately arranged action. remember, in the eyes of the public, duke's death also seemed like an accident.
and the final chord of prospero’s life could have been, for example, not the disease itself, but a medical “mistake” during the surgery or something like that.
phew, feels really nice to finally have a platform to share some thoughts! and what do y'all think? it'd be interesting to read your theories.
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niningtori · 2 months ago
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for the hope of it all | parts i-iii
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pairing(s): choi beomgyu x you, choi soobin x you
summary: you've been in love with beomgyu since the first time you saw him, but he sees you as nothing more than a good friend and faithful wingwoman. when he asks you to help him catch another girl, who just so happens to be one of your closest friends, things get complicated.
genre: ANGST, melodrama, romance, smut (mdni), fluff at the end
warnings: smut (mdni), beomgyu is a fucking asshole but he gets better, manipulative!gyu, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering (vaginal), oral (f. receiving), dom!gyu, dirty talk, praise, if i missed anything lmk!
word count: 18.7k
notes: ... hi. literally nobody asked for this, but i realized that part 2 of this work didn't even show up in the tags, so i decided to compile all of the previous parts as well as the ending together. hopefully, you all enjoy this. i'm still struggling, but i pray you all still like it even if it's not me at my best. feedback is always appreciated :) thank you!
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part i: august
beomgyu really likes her — like, really— and who can blame him? you certainly can’t. chaewon is a lovely, lovely girl, so it should come as no surprise when beomgyu asks you to, in his words, help him bag her. you’re not one with a particularly strong character at the best of times, so when he practically begs you to convince one of your closest friends that he’s actually not the heartbreaking manwhore he definitely is, you can’t find it in yourself to say no.
it doesn't help that he has enough charisma to charm even the most indifferent target he sets his eyes on, it doesn't help that he's so handsome it makes everyone either want him or want to be him, and it most certainly doesn't help that you've been in love with the boy for the entire time that you've known him. him asking absolutely anything of you would result in you relenting, so when he asks for something as seemingly inconsequential as setting him up with a mutual friend, accepting it is a matter of course. does it hurt your heart to see him pining after someone else when you basically consider him as your soulmate? of course. but his happiness means more to you than your own. if she makes him happy, then so be it.
that's what you tell yourself, at least.
-
beomgyu doesn’t know that you love him — he can’t possibly know — or else he’d treat you differently, right? you don’t want that. you don’t want anything to change, at least not in the disastrous way you anticipate confessing your love to him would go, so you’ve kept your feelings close to your chest to keep him from suspecting anything. you think you’ve gotten pretty good at concealing your feelings. for example, you laugh when he tells you about his sexual escapades, and you don’t hesitate to give him advice on how to woo the girls who are wary of his lasciviousness. you only want to show him the good parts of you, carefully tucking any ugly seeds of jealousy or sadness away from his prying eyes.
the thing is, though, beomgyu is not stupid; and to your never-ending misery, you are not the greatest actress. he can see the crestfallen look on your face for the split second before you can contort your features into a smile. he can hear the tremble in your voice as you force out a laugh. with his godforsaken intuition, he can sense the hesitation in your movement when you playfully push him aside as he over-dramatically recounts his latest raunchy fuck. 
all of this has no discernible consequence, though. if anything, your feelings have been his faithful friend and ally when it comes to conspiring with you to land whatever girl piques his interest at the moment. you may not be a prospective partner, but you are a great wingwoman, he’ll give you that much. and that’s exactly what he needs when dealing with chaewon, who has proven to be a particularly tough nut to crack. he doesn’t usually go for people he would consider friends, if only because he doesn’t like dealing with the messy aftermath, but her refusal to look his way is just too entertaining. he has no earthly idea why this cat and mouse game intrigues him the way it does, but he’s hooked like none other, especially because her reasons for pulling away when she’s definitely as attracted to him as he is to her are unclear. maybe she just doesn’t want to seem easy? whatever it is, he likes it. he likes her.
-
“so what's the plan?” soobin asks. 
“what do you mean?” you blink as you turn towards him, effectively taken out of your daze. you've been staring at a new instagram picture of beomgyu for at least ten minutes now. there's not much going on in it — it's just a candid taehyun took of him — but you can't stop the yearning you feel in your heart as you wish you had been the one to take it, instead.
“i mean, what's your big plan to ‘help’ him this time?” there’s a trace of resentment in his tone as he puts air quotes around “help”. you know he thinks you're just wasting your time on a boy who will never feel the same way you do, but what can you do? you still love him.
“i’m… i’m just going to talk him up to chae, no big deal,” you say rather unconvincingly, because it is a big deal. it’s the biggest deal in the world to you.
“and what are you gonna say? ‘hey, i know you know beomgyu is garbage, but deep down, he’s actually not garbage even though, even deeper down, he really is?’” his words are sarcastic and, for lack of a better term, downright hateful. 
“he’s not garbage, binnie,” you chastise. “he’s actually really sweet once you get to know him.”
“sweet? sweet how, exactly?” he sneers. you just sigh and shake your head. beomgyu is a frequent point of contention in your friendship with soobin, but you don’t know how to overcome it. mostly, arguments surrounding him devolve into conversations like the one you’re having right now. 
“he puts on a tough act, but he’s not really like that on the inside,” you insist. “you just don’t know him like i do.”
“and thank god for that,” he snorts, and you frown. you can tell he feels guilty by the way his expression immediately softens. 
“hey, i’m sorry,” he says, tucking your hair behind your ear. “i just don’t like to see you hurting.”
“i’m not hurting,” you lie. “i’m totally fine. it’s just… i just want to see him happy.” you actually do mean that last part. beomgyu, though seemingly carefree, is actually a lot more insecure and sensitive than one might think. you know this because he’s shown you that side of him many, many times, which must mean that he trusts you like no one else. you are honored to be the one he feels comfortable with, and even if it never amounts to anything more than that, you’re thankful you get to see how he really is. 
“and you think being with a new girl every week will make him happy?” he softly asks, no edge to his voice, but his words hurt even more than they did before.
“it's different this time, binnie. i'm serious. i've never seen him like this before. i think he really likes her.” and the words almost kill you to say, but you mean them, anyway. 
“okay,” he relents. “just do what you want to do. i’ll be there for you no matter what.” 
“thank you,” you reply with a small smile, before putting your nose back into your phone and staring at beomgyu’s pictures again. you don’t catch it, but soobin sighs as he watches you. 
-
you’ve been trying really, really hard. usually, all you have to do is talk about good points about beomgyu, and women fall for it hook, line, and sinker. chaewon is not most women, though, and she makes that abundantly clear with the polite smiles and airy laughs she gives you when you try to bring up beomgyu. 
you don't get it. if you had beomgyu’s attention, you’d never let it go, so it makes no sense to you how someone could have it without taking the opportunity to seize it. if it were you, you’d seize it. if it were you, you'd tell him you’ve loved him since the first time you saw him. if it were you — well, it doesn't really matter, does it? because it isn't you. still, you can’t help but dream.
the sentiment that it will never be you becomes clearer and clearer as you watch beomgyu try to initiate conversation with chaewon at his very own house party you are currently attending. you watch from the sidelines as they sit uncomfortably close together, legs flush against one another, as beomgyu wraps his arm around her shoulder and pulls her in to whisper in her ear. you like to think you’re content with him being with her even if it means you’ll be without him, but it’s difficult to feel that way when you actually see it playing out before you. your heart feels like stone weighing heavily in your chest as she giggles at whatever he says, and you think that things might start looking up for him before her smile suddenly melts into a little frown. 
without warning, she pries his arm off of her and gives him a perfunctory smile before standing up and smoothing out her skirt. then, she grabs her drink from the coffee table and he's left alone. his previously delighted expression is now filled with irritation and disappointment. you're still staring at him, just trying to get a read on the situation as you're left reeling, and before you know it, he's looking up at you. you're a little embarrassed at being caught, but you realize you can play your intrigue off as objectively analyzing the situation in order to help him better. surely he’ll fall for that, right? every time you say something similar, he buys it with no further questions.
he makes eye contact with you then nods towards his room as a silent plea to talk to him in private. if someone were to ask you how you’re able to deduce all of that from one look alone, you’d probably say it’s because you know beomgyu like the back of your hand — and maybe you do, but it’s like a subconsciously trained reaction more than anything. just as you know what beomgyu will do next, he knows you’ll understand his seemingly innocuous gestures. 
you head up the stairs and beomgyu shuts his bedroom door behind you. you prepare to launch into your readymade explanation as to why you were rubbernecking earlier, but he speaks before you can say anything at all.
“why isn’t it working?” he huffs. “did you talk to her like i asked you to?”
“yes, of course i did!” you eagerly insist. you would never lie to beomgyu — well, not about this, at least. your secret feelings are another story. 
“then why does she keep rejecting me?” he huffs. you wish you could answer him. truly, you do. you scramble for the right words, but you sincerely can't wrap your head around her logic, or lack thereof. 
he’s still waiting for an answer, though, so you think back to the recent conversations you’ve had with soobin, and you realize there’s only one plausible conclusion. 
“she just doesn’t know you enough, beoms. if she knew how you really are and how much you like her, she wouldn't act this way; but honestly, she probably thinks you’re just messing with her,” you explain, and you hope beyond hope that he doesn’t take it the wrong way. you don’t want to hurt his feelings by suggesting that his (newly) former playboy ways could be ruining his chances with her.
beomgyu’s feelings, of course, are not hurt. in fact, he just feels more annoyed than anything else. it’s really fucking irritating how he can’t seem to get a read on her or her intentions. she likes him, he can definitely tell, so what’s the problem with him having a messy past? it’s clear that it doesn’t bother you. well, it does, but in a different way. you’d forgive his previous transgressions in a heartbeat if it meant that he’d look your way, so why can’t she be the same? but then, he supposes that comparing someone as lovesick as you are to a normal girl is a bit unfair. 
but why are you so lovesick? it’s obvious that he’s handsome and funny, so falling for him is only natural, but your devotion is on another level. not only that, but you’re devoted in spite of the fact that he clearly wants nothing to do with you. in all honesty, it’s almost like you love him even more when you see him chasing after somebody else... then suddenly, the solution is clear. he has to make her think he doesn’t want her; and the easiest way to do that is to pretend he’s interested in someone else. in the same vein, who better else to pretend with than one of chaewon’s closest friends? you’re absolutely perfect for the job.
beomgyu’s demeanor goes from irritated to self-satisfied, and it puzzles you to no end. maybe he figured out a way to show his true feelings for her? but then why is he looking at you with such intensity? he’s never looked at you this way in the many years that you’ve known him. wait, did he realize something?  please, god, don’t let that be the case. you really don’t think you can —
and your train of thought is stopped when beomgyu strides over to you and locks the door behind you. you look up at him with confusion in your eyes before you finally register what that intense gaze of his really is: predatory.
suddenly, his lips are on yours and you’re holding back a squeal. your eyes widen as he cups his big hands around your cheeks and pulls you in even closer. he tastes like alcohol, which is to be expected, but there's a certain uniqueness to his taste that you can't really put into words; and you’re able to taste it even more as his tongue enters your mouth. you groan at the action, and surprisingly, he does, too. 
you always assumed kissing beomgyu would make you feel like everything was finally right in the world, and it does — it really, sincerely does — but there’s also a certain spark you were not anticipating. something a lot more fiery, and it shoots straight to your core as your tongues tangle together lasciviously. beomgyu seems to know this, and he smirks into the kiss before trailing his warm mouth down your neck. you gasp at the sensation, which just makes him laugh. 
his hands have traveled from your cheeks to your chest, one staying there to grab at your tits while the other one carelessly finds its way up your skirt. 
“so wet,” he whispers in awe when he rubs his fingers against your soaked panties. “is this all because of me?” you feel your cheeks warm and you’re stammering out your next words.
“w-well, i —” 
“is this all because of me?” he repeats, and you give him a feeble nod before covering your face in shame.
“cute,” he snickers, and your previously warm cheeks are now scorching to the touch. 
he moves your panties to the side and rubs against your sensitive clit, which sends pulsations through your entire body, but that’s nothing in comparison to how you feel when he presses a finger into your dripping hole. 
“you’re so tight,” he whispers, lust clearly written all over his face at the prospect of being in your pussy relatively soon; but he wants to enjoy this, he wants to enjoy the way your face screws up as he presses his finger so deep, he’s hitting places previously untouched. he slowly pulls it out, grazing your most sensitive spot with ease before adding another digit in, making you almost groan from the stretch. you bite your lip to avoid making such a sound, but beomgyu pays your attempted discretion no mind as he starts to hammer his fingers into you at a brutal pace. 
it doesn’t take long for you to come undone around his skilled fingers, and once you’re done pulsating around him, he takes them out for a taste. 
“so good,” he remarks, and though your breathing is heavy and your eyes are hazy, you still have it in you to feel embarrassed. he takes your smaller hand in his and leads you to his messy bed, carelessly sweeping every loose item — a t-shirt here, an old cd there — off of it in one go. he lays you down and hungrily licks his lips once he strips you down until you’re fully unclothed. 
you’re feeling extremely small in this moment. you know beomgyu has had his pick of the litter when it comes to women, so you can’t help but wonder how you fare in comparison to the literal bombshells he’s been known to take home. mostly, though, you wonder how you compare to chaewon, as awful as that sounds. if you really think about it, there’s no comparison to be made, really. she’s her, and you’re you. what else is there to say, honestly? still, you’re comforted by the thought that you are the one underneath him right now, not her, and he does not seem disappointed in the slightest if the tent in his jeans means anything at all.
before you can think too much about it, he’s practically tearing his shirt off and you can’t help but stare. his torso is lean and a little paler than the rest of him, probably due to the lack of sun. objectively speaking, he’s no greek god or anything similar, but to you, he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. if he notices your awed reaction, he doesn’t say anything or really care, because he is simply too busy studying how perfect you seem to look under his dimmed lights. again, he is delighted at the prospect of being inside of you very soon.
he unzips his jeans and slides them, along with his boxers, off of his slim thighs and you can finally see him completely. his cock is a red so deep it’s nearly purple, with evidence of his lust leaking out of its flared tip. you’ve heard a lot about beomgyu’s physique from stories, his and his hookups’ alike, but nothing prepared you for the real thing. you’re not a virgin or anything, but you’re still unsure of how you’re meant to fit him inside of you. and you have no idea how you’re supposed to approach the subject. 
beomgyu does not seem to understand your internal battle, though, because he wastes no time in lining himself up with your entrance. before he pushes in, though, he drags his cock along your soaking wet seam just to coat himself in your slick. when he feels he can’t take any more of his own teasing, he begins to push in.
“j-jesus christ!” he exclaims as he tries to push his tip through your entrance. “are you a virgin or some shit?”
“nngh — n-no! i-i’m not. i’ve — mmh — i’ve had boyfriends before,” you say as best as you can while dealing with the feeling of him literally fucking you open. you’re worried he’s not enjoying himself in light of his outburst and his decidedly strained expression. 
“god, s-so tight,” he drawls. “feels so goddamn good.” he draws his hips back before pushing in again, further this time, and his words of praise seem to comfort you somehow, because he’s able to sheathe himself completely in you. 
he groans when he feels your gummy walls wildly contracting around him — unsure of what to do with the pleasurable intrusion and working tirelessly to simultaneously push him out and pull him in. you, on the other hand, feel nothing but full. you’re so full you ache, so after a few moments of adjusting, your watery eyes are filled with an insatiable sense of pleading. 
“you okay?” he asks, actually somewhat sweetly.
“y-yes — ah — i just feel w-weird,” you say. “feel so — fuck — full.” your seemingly innocent words drive him to the brink of insanity, so with reddened eyes, he grabs your hips so hard, you know he’ll leave marks in his wake, and without warning he begins drilling into you.
his thrusts are not calculated or intentional in any sense — they’re rough and fast and show his desperation. why he’s so desperate, he has no idea. beomgyu is sleazy even on a good day, so women come a dime a dozen, but he feels an unquenchable need he feels will only be satisfied if he continues to fuck you like a man gone mad. so he does.
your breasts bounce with every thrust and while he wants to grab one, his thirst only makes him want to go even deeper in you, so he employs his hands to manhandling you into a mating press. the new position has him going even deeper, and you can feel him hitting your cervix with each nasty snap of his hips. tears at the sheer feeling of being overwhelmed spring in your eyes and you have to clamp your hand over your lips to keep from crying out.
“let me hear you,” he pleads while gently moving your hand from your mouth and not-so-gently fucking you like a breeding whore, and he’s not sure if he’s saying it because he wants to make sure chaewon hears or just because he desperately wants to hear you for himself. 
“fuck!” you exclaim, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. “s-so big!”
“oh, sweetheart,” he rambles, “who were you fucking before? they didn’t deserve this tight little pussy. they didn’t fuck you like you deserve to be fucked — like a good little whore.” 
“‘m n-not a whore,” you tearily insist, somehow convinced that he means his words. you’re not completely inexperienced, but you’re not a whore, right?
but your innocence only makes him wanna ruin you more, claim you completely. 
“you’re taking cock so well, but you wanna tell me you’re not a whore?” he snickers meanly, and you feel so delirious, you find yourself agreeing with what he says. 
the lewd sounds of skin meeting skin and the sharp knocking of the headboard fill the room, and the heat you feel building up inside of you has you seeing stars. beomgyu pulls you in for a sloppy, wet kiss as he finally lets one of your legs down in order to snake his hand against your clit, which he languidly rolls in the midst of his pistoning in and out of you. 
“are you gonna come for me?” he asks as his lips part from yours. “are you gonna come all over my cock?” 
“y-yes, please,” you sob. “wanna come!”
“then do it, baby. let go for me,” and with the way he’s rolling your clit while fucking into you, you can’t help but comply.
he hisses when he feels you contracting around him, tightening up even more than before and pulling him in impossibly deeper. that’s all it takes, really, before he comes undone himself and sprays his thick, hot load into your spasming pussy. 
he collapses on top of you, and both of you take a few moments just to catch your breath before he pulls out of you with a wince. he’s absolutely enthralled by the way the mix of both of you two’s cum leaks out of you as soon as he does so. he’s almost tempted to swirl it back in and plug you up, but his rational side stops him before he can do anything he’ll regret. 
“are you on the pill?” he asks, and you nod.
“good, go ahead and get a plan b, too. just in case,” he says with a quick kiss to your forehead, and you nod with a delirious smile even in spite of his pedantic words. you’re just so happy you got to sleep with him, be closer to him.
“oh, i almost forgot to actually tell you,” he laughs. “i think fucking you will make chaewon jealous. i think we put on a pretty good show tonight, don’t you?” 
and your heart and your hope and your dignity shatter like nothing else. 
“y-yeah,” you try to reply with a laugh, but it sounds more forced than anything else you’ve ever heard in your life. “it was a really good show.”
-
“you slept with him?!” soobin asks, and he seems beyond frustrated. if you had the guts to look him in his eyes, though, you’d notice just how much hurt is in them. 
“y-yeah…” you mumble, face downcast.
“why? why would you do that? you’re just going to be even more hurt!” he exclaims, and you shrink into yourself even more, not out of fear, but out of pure shame. 
“i don’t know! it all just happened so fast, a-and i, i don’t know, i just couldn’t stop myself,” is all you manage to say. soobin groans at your words. 
“you do realize that getting over him is going to be even harder for you now, right?” he asks, and you finally look up at him for a second before looking back down and nodding, and it’s almost like you’re a child who got caught doing something they knew was wrong.
“i know, and i’m sorry,” you mutter, still struggling to make eye contact, but soobin catches your timidity and his gaze is softened as he pulls your face up to look at him. 
“you don’t have to apologize to me,” he sighs. “i’m just worried about you, you know?” 
“i know, i know. but i’m still really sorry.” and you don’t have to elaborate on why that is because you both know that he’ll be the one helping you pick up the pieces when this situation inevitably breaks your heart even more than it’s already broken, if that’s even possible.
“it’s alright,” he says, pulling you in for a hug that’s so warm and kind you almost burst into tears. “you’ll be alright. i’m here.” 
-
this is a bad idea. soobin would yell at you if you told him what you’re up to, but you don’t want to think about that right now. all you want to think about is how much better you’ll feel after you get your secret feelings off of your chest. up until now, the fear of rejection has made you too afraid to tell beomgyu how you really feel, but things can’t get much worse than they are at present, can they? it’s only been a few days since your hookup with beomgyu, but your love is eating you alive and you doubt that you’ll be able to hold it in for much longer.
things will probably go badly, and he’ll probably be completely blindsided, but the thought of continuing to lie to beomgyu’s face hurts more than anything else ever could. even more than the pain you feel every day that he unconsciously hurts your feelings. maybe this will ruin your friendship, but you love beomgyu, and he loves you, even if it’s not in the way that you want. all you can do is hope that your friendship is strong enough to overcome this.
with that mindset, you find yourself at his doorstep on this particularly cool summer night. you know he’s home because you can hear the faint sounds of whatever movie he’s watching emanating from his door. before you can lose your nerve, you begin to rapidly knock. before long, you hear the shuffling of feet nearing you, and you almost bolt then and there, but he’s quick to open the door when he realizes it’s just you.
“what are you doing here?” he asks, agitation apparent. oh god, were you interrupting something? what if he was working? what if he was sleeping? you should've texted before just showing up unannounced. 
“i-i’m sorry, are you busy?” you ask sheepishly.
“... no,” he says after a slight pause, and he opens the door to let you in. you sit yourself on his couch, posture ramrod straight due to how fucking uncomfortable you are, and you try to steady your breathing as you fiddle with your fingers. 
“is this about chaewon?” he asks, breaking the silence, and your heart aches at the trace of hope in his words.
“n-no, nothing like that. i just —”
“is there any update on that?” he cuts in before you can even get your words out.
“oh, um, not really,” you reply before remembering that something has happened, but you’ve been so out of it, it genuinely didn't occur to you to tell him. “wait, actually, she mentioned that you seem different lately, but she, uh, she’s still… well, to be honest, she’s —” 
“what? she’s still what?” and there’s no patience for your rambling to be seen.
“she’s still not interested in dating you,” you mumble, unable to look him in the eyes when you say it. he’s completely silent after your words, and when you do finally gather enough guts to actually look at him, you really, really wish you had just kept your face down. because he’s pissed. 
“are you fucking with me? she really said that?” he asks, and you nod. 
“why didn’t you tell me earlier?!” and you feel so disoriented at the way things are unfolding that you can barely croak out a reply.
“i-i forgot.” 
“you forgot? jesus christ, if it’s not about her, then why are you here?” he seems angrier than you’ve ever seen him, but his words get you to finally remember what you’re here for.
“i just… i needed to talk to you,” you say pleadingly, looking into his eyes as you try your hardest to give yourself the strength to be honest with him.
“about?” 
it takes all of the courage in your poor little heart to choke out your next words. 
“beomgyu, you know, for the longest time, i’ve —”
“i know,” he impatiently snaps. you’re unsure of what he’s referencing, but you do know he has no idea about the feelings you’ve kept hidden for so long. 
“no. no, you don’t know, actually,” you argue, brave face on, but voice shakier than a leaf. “i just need to tell you that i —”
“that you love me? i know, that’s what i just fucking said,” he sighs irritatedly. “why else would you help me? ‘cause you love me so much, right?” he knows it’s wrong to take his frustration out on you, but you’re so pathetic, you make it too damn easy. you’re the perfect outlet for him to unleash all of his anger.
“you… you knew? this entire time?” you ask incredulously. you feel like you’re suffocating in the face of his callousness and disgust, and the room feels smaller than it did before.
“i mean, yeah. it was kind of obvious,” he muses. your cheeks feel so hot you’re sure you’re on the brink of immolation. it was obvious? if it was obvious, then why did he keep you around in the first place? because you’re useful when it comes to helping him get his dick wet?
“so… so why did you…” you trail off, still finding it inconceivable that the beomgyu you know and love could possibly know about your feelings; and not only are they unreciprocated by him, which you could understand and respect, but they’re nothing more than a fucking joke and means to an end. the end in question being burying himself into other women.
“why did i act like i didn’t know? because i don't feel the same way,” he answers, and you already knew it and knew it well, but that doesn't make it any more digestible to hear.
“y-yeah, but you — how could you still sleep with me? how could you do that to me?” you ask, lips wobbling and voice cracking. you can't believe this. you won't believe this. you have to be misunderstanding something somewhere. there's just no way this is it.
“because it was easy,” he says with a shrug, and your heart shatters into a million pieces. 
because it was easy. 
easy. what a funny word. you don’t think you even fully comprehend what it means in this context, actually. easy, easy, easy, but what part of this has been easy for you? every day, it’s like you’re killing yourself by trying to twist into what he wants you to be. a friend, a confidant, and now, even a lover. but lover is being too generous, isn't it? because he does not love you, not even as a friend, and this discovery becomes clearer and clearer as you think back to every time he’s shown you just how little he cares.
soobin’s litany of warnings come back to haunt you with a vengeance. 
he’s just using you. 
he’s garbage.
he’s just gonna hurt you.
and though you know soobin will take no pleasure in being correct, you can't help but dread the “i told you so” you know he will never be mean enough to say, but will inevitably think.
“i thought we were friends,” you say incredulously, dread and anxiety pooling in the deepest recesses of your heart. “i thought you cared about me” 
and he doesn’t shrug or anything because he doesn’t really need to, but he might as well seeing as how it clearly makes no difference to him. and this is finally how you come to understand that beomgyu is just as bad as everyone says. maybe even a little worse. and he will continue to act like a sociopath for as long as you let him. 
“i-i love you, i really do. but no fucking way. i won’t sit here and let you treat me like shit,” you declare, tears flowing down your cheeks so quickly and steadily you’d probably be unable to wipe them away even if you tried. luckily or unluckily, you don’t even have the strength to find out. 
“you’re going to regret this,” you whisper, and it’s said with such certainty that for a moment, he almost believes you. almost, but not quite.
either way, you’re booking it out of his door before he can even reply.
-
this is everything beomgyu ever could’ve asked for. chaewon is sitting next to him on his bed, eyes dark with lust as she unceremoniously grabs the end of her top and tugs it off. she's beautiful, no doubt about that, but he feels more and more like something is incredibly wrong. 
she leans in to press her lips onto his, but he flinches, scooting almost imperceptibly further away from her on the bed. she falters for a moment before sighing and crawling on all fours to situate herself between his legs. she begins to unzip his pants and tug on his waistband before he frantically stops her.
“w-what are you doing?” he asks, voice shaking.
“blowing you, what does it look like i’m doing?” she replies with a roll of her eyes. “i just wish i had known you wouldn’t be into kissing or, like, actual foreplay, but whatever.” she continues her movement to pull his pants down before he stops her again. 
“what’s wrong?” she asks curiously, before finally realizing that he is, to what would normally be his eternal shame, completely soft. her mouth drops in shock, and in another universe, beomgyu has enough energy to care. but not in this one. in this one, his eyes are teary as he feels an implacable sense of dread he can’t seem to shake off. 
“oh god,” she says with conviction, pulling herself back up and running one hand through her hair. “i knew this would happen.” 
beomgyu, on his part, looks somewhat out of it, but her words bring him back to earth. 
“knew what would happen?” he asks tentatively, sniffling for reasons unknown to him while he tries not to let his tears run over his waterlines.
“i knew you’d act like this because of her,” she says begrudgingly. 
his eyebrows furrow for a second, not because he doesn’t already know who she’s talking about, but because he doesn’t understand the correlation between you and the situation he presently finds himself in.
“think about it,” she says slowly, condescendingly. “who do you trust, like, actually? and i’m not just talking about with getting girls, but with everything.” beomgyu is silent as he tries to comprehend what she's saying, but he’s nothing if not slow on the uptake in regards to human emotion. 
“oh, beomgyu, come the fuck on,” she sighs in frustration. “i mean, when you were stressed about that presentation for your job, who did you call? yunjin told me all about it. she said you spent hours reciting a 15 minute presentation to the girl you supposedly don’t give a fuck about.” ah. he remembers that night, actually, and he remembers it well. he called you in a panic, so you brought over some dinner because you knew he was stressed, but he was so wound up that you didn’t leave and even insisted that he practice with you in order to give him feedback. he spent the whole night repeating the same speech over and over again, but you sat patiently and encouragingly as he repeated the boring, inconsequential drivel to you. you never complained, not even once, and you didn’t ask him for any compensation in the form of him doing something — anything — similar for you, either. even if you had, he realizes, he wouldn't have given any to you, anyway.
“that’s…” 
“and that’s not even all of it. who’s the first one you look for when you walk into a room? and when something good happens, who do you tell first? not anybody else, and i know for a fact that it’s not me, never will be,” she says bitterly. every new point slashes at his heart and ego.
and suddenly, things start making sense, albeit in the worst possible way. beomgyu loves you. his trust and dependence on you all make an awful sort of sense, but in a way, it’s relieving to finally be able to put a name to this feeling. his eyes still feel hot, but not so much because something feels wrong, but because things finally feel right for the first time in forever. he loves you, has loved you, and will continue to love you.
her words resonate with him so deeply, she can read it all over his face. it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he finally understands, but he’s still missing an important fact. the most important fact, even. 
“yeah, i guess you finally get it now. you have feelings for her. and the worst thing is: you treat her like shit.” his eyes widen and the tears that were just threatening to escape are completely let loose. how could he only come to this realization after he already effectively stomped on your heart and your pure intentions? after you’ve made it clear that you don’t want anything to do with him anymore? and he has nobody but himself to blame, really; he practically shoved you away over and over and over again. 
“i-i didn’t mean to —” 
“sure, of course you didn’t,” she says with a sarcastic smile. “whatever makes you feel better for fucking over the girl who’s been in love with you for years.”
-
beomgyu may not know much about the inner workings of interpersonal relationships, but he does know he needs to see you, and he’s smart enough to understand that he needs to apologize. 
but beomgyu has never apologized for anything in his life — not unless you count the times his mother made him grit them out as a child when he would objectively do something wrong, but this is another matter entirely. nobody will be holding his hand as he does it, and he’s not even really sure where to start. but he knows he has to try.
surely there’s a better place to try than at the bar where he currently finds himself, but then, there’s no time like the present. not to mention that he has a sneaking suspicion that you're avoiding all of your mutual friends’ get-togethers for the sole purpose of avoiding him. if the blocking of all of his socials wasn’t enough, the blocking of his phone number certainly was.
it’s not necessarily fate’s fault that he finds himself here, either. he heard from a friend (chaewon) that you’d be here tonight. he sees you from across the bar looking lively and chatty, and he prays that the good mood you seem to be in will help soften the upcoming conversation with him. to his luck, you step out of the bar to take a call, so he slides from his seat with an open beer bottle in tow, and follows you outside. 
your back is turned, and he doesn’t quite hear what you’re talking about over the phone, but he does catch a giggle and a name, soobin’s, and it makes his heart ache. when you hang up, you turn to head back into the bar, but you’re met with his figure. 
“h-hey,” he says, and he wants to smack himself for the casual greeting he still managed to fuck up.
your eyes widen for a moment before they go blank, and you’re pushing past him without a response. 
“i need to talk to you,” he says, voice trembling as he grabs the back of your elbow, which you snatch out of his grip like his touch is poison. 
“about?” you ask curtly, barely even deigning to turn your head to look at him. you have never been so hostile towards anyone, let alone him, and it's making him spiral. 
“i’m sorry. i’m just really, really sorry,” he desperately apologizes. you’re silent for a few moments as you turn to completely face him with your arms crossed, and he’s trying his damndest to read your expression, but he can’t quite make it out.
“okay… and?” is all you say in response, and he fumbles over his words at your nonchalance. 
“a-and, um, i —”
“you know what?” you cut in with an impatient sigh and a wave of your hand. “i don’t care anymore. you’ve said enough.”
“but i —” 
“i don’t care, beomgyu.” and his name is said in such disgust that it sounds to him like it’s a chore for you to spit out. you’re about to turn and reenter the bar when his next words come tumbling out. 
“i think — i know —  i love you,” he says urgently, and your previously unreadable gaze turns into one of pure, sheer amusement. you’re so amused, you laugh, even. 
“what the fuck are you talking about?” you say between giggles.
“i-i didn’t realize it before, but i talked to chaewon, and she even said that i’ve probably always felt that way about you. i know i didn’t show it, but i really do love —”
“okay, just stop. stop it right there, beomgyu. i’m only going to say it just this once, so listen carefully, okay?” you ask, and he fervently nods. 
“okay. you don't know the first thing about love.” and he goes to interrupt you, but you don’t let him. “loving somebody means you put their feelings above your own. what the hell would you know about that?” 
“i’m… i know i was wrong, b-but i —” 
“beomgyu,” you say exasperatedly. “i’m so glad you’re finally reaching enlightenment, and i’m so happy i was cannon fodder for you to use to get there. but i just really, really don’t care anymore, okay? do what you want with whoever you want, but don’t bother me about it anymore, alright?” and he’s so stunned he can’t even form words, but you just shake your head and prepare to leave again. unconsciously, he goes to grab you again, which you consequently dodge, and he thinks this is the most rejected he’s ever felt before realizing it’s not over yet. it’s only truly over when you grab his bottle from him and splash its contents across his face before throwing the bottle back into his arms and leaving for good.
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part ii: cardigan
beomgyu can’t tell if his eyes are stinging from the alcohol you splashed in his face or from the sheer humiliation he feels. maybe from both. probably from both. either way, tears fall as a result. he probably looks like a madman as he stumbles along the concrete on his walk home from the bar. he still has the beer bottle you shoved at him in his hand, and luckily for him, there’s still enough in there to help him get a little tipsier than he already is. he needs it, too, because your words play like a broken record in his head.
you don’t know the first thing about love. 
do what you want with whoever you want, but don’t bother me about it anymore.
each and every word feels like you knew exactly the right thing to say to pierce his heart, but he knows better than to think you cared enough to think about it to the point of choosing them so carefully. no, the words you said were what you really felt at the moment. you didn’t even have to try to hurt him, you just had to tell the truth. somehow, that hurts even more. 
he replays the entire debacle in his head and tries to think of what he could have said differently. to be honest, there are a lot things, but he has a feeling that no matter what he said, you would’ve reacted the same exact way. if he really thinks about it, maybe some small, ugly part of him hoped you’d forgive him as easily as you have always been wont to do, but it's clear to him now that he was just being delusional. maybe he was still under the impression that you’d be as easy to please as ever, but with how repulsed you seemed to be by his words, his touch, him, he has no such expectations anymore.
he now finds himself at an impasse. where does he go from here? you made it clear that you’re done with him, but he still loves you. you don't want his love anymore, so where is that love supposed to go? the only person he feels like he can ask no longer wants to speak to him. he’s unsure if he wants to turn to you because you’d understand, or just because you’re the only person he trusts.
needless to say, the walk home from the bar is a long one, indeed. one filled with pensive silence, save for the steady sound of swigs being taken from his bottle and the occasional sob. 
-
most people in your friend group have no idea what transpired between you and beomgyu, but the smart ones, like taehyun, know something must have happened by the way you avoid hangouts in which beomgyu is present like the plague. he doesn’t pry when you bail, though, for which you are thankful. a few weeks pass before you have the epiphany that beomgyu has already ruined enough, and you won’t let him ruin your friendships, too.
when you show up to taehyun’s for his celebratory house party in lieu of a promotion at his job, everyone cheers when you walk through the door, which makes your cheeks heat up, and you feel so relieved that your friends are still the same even when it feels like it’s been an eternity since you’ve seen them. taehyun pulls you in for a hug, and you eagerly reciprocate it.
“glad you made it,” he grins. 
“i wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you say with a smile, which just makes him beam even more.
you’re pleasantly surprised to note that beomgyu is nowhere to be seen, and you relax for a bit before falling into the familiar rhythm that is being with your friends. you missed this. you missed them. and it seems like they’ve missed you just as much if their excited chatter is anything to go by. you were, admittedly, a little tense when you first came in, but all of that melts away as you join in on the banter and pure fun that is being with the people you love the most.
although beomgyu is nowhere to be found, soobin still never leaves your side. he watches the door like a hawk, and you feel at ease with the knowledge that he’s beside you regardless of the outcome. so what if beomgyu shows up? you belong here, and you have soobin and the rest of your friends with you. knowing beomgyu like you do, his passing fancy has almost certainly ended and he will ignore you like the son of a bitch that he is. 
with this notion in mind, you are not at all prepared for the way the aforementioned boy slams taehyun’s front door open and drunkenly stumbles in. the room gets quiet after he does so, and everyone stares as he scans the room with blank, reddened eyes. when his gaze catches yours, you break eye contact almost immediately, opting to turn to soobin with what you hope is an unbothered look, not to keep up any pretenses with him, but because you don’t want anyone other than him to know how uncomfortable you are. in turn, he grabs your hand and laces his fingers with yours, giving your hand a small, reassuring squeeze, and he does not move to unlace his hand with yours even after he does it.
while you’re trying to be discreet, beomgyu is anything but as he continues to stare at you with a dumbed out look on his face. the intense atmosphere is only broken when taehyun stands up to greet him with a side hug and a pat on the other boy’s back. 
“hey, gyu. i’m happy you’re here,” he says.
“mm,” beomgyu replies, eyes still never leaving you and lingering at the way you and soobin have your hands joined, and taehyun’s casual side hug turns into him having to support beomgyu’s weight as beomgyu almost falls over while standing. 
“you’re really fucking drunk,” taehyun murmurs with a wrinkled nose as he smells the alcohol on beomgyu’s entire person. “c’mon, you can relax in my room for a bit.”
beomgyu can only nod as he leans on taehyun for stability and walks towards taehyun’s room. his gaze on you only breaks when taehyun shuts the door behind him, and if your friends didn’t know that something odd was afoot with the two of you, they certainly seem to know now as they look between taehyun’s room and your awkward figure.
“you okay?” a soft, sweet voice whispers. you turn to soobin and muster up a forced smile and a nod. his hand is still holding yours and he soothingly brushes his thumb over your hand in order to try to calm you down. somehow, it actually kind of works. 
-
you’re here. beomgyu thought he may be hallucinating or something just because you seem to haunt him everywhere he goes now, but he knew it was the real thing when he saw how uncomfortable you were. he knows this because in his delusions, you’re either flatout rejecting him or, in the good ones, you’re forgiving him. those are the ones he likes the most, but he hates the sobering aftermath when he realizes they are, in fact, only figments of his imagination.
so now he sits on taehyun’s bed in a daze as he focuses on the door. you’re so close that his heart physically aches in yearning as it insists on closing the distance between you two, but taehyun’s sharp look stops him from doing anything too terribly stupid. 
“this has got to stop,” taehyun halfway pleads, halfway scolds.
“what does?” beomgyu asks dumbly.
“showing up everywhere drunk as hell,” he replies. “look, i don’t know what’s going on, but i know it has to do with her, and i know you’re probably — definitely — in the wrong.” 
beomgyu has enough shame to hang his head and purse his lips in response.
“i don’t know what you did, i don’t know what you said, but whatever it was, i know you’re not making any of it better by getting fucked up every night. stay in here, sober up, and only come out when you’re ready to act like an adult.” and with that, taehyun stalks over to the door before shutting it behind him.
beomgyu is not stupid, but he’s not exactly emotionally intelligent, either; so while taehyun’s words sting, they’re not enough to pull him out of his pity party. all he seems to care about in this moment is being next to you, but he remembers the scene of your hands locking with soobin’s. are you seeing each other now? that can’t be it. the heart does not move on that quickly, but maybe yours did. maybe you buried your feelings for him as deep as they could go in the face of the seemingly repulsive confession of love he gave to you. maybe you belong with somebody like soobin, who’s so gentle and caring. soobin definitely listens to you, cherishes you, treats you gently. maybe beomgyu didn’t exactly understand it before now, but he really understands it at this moment: soobin loves you.
maybe, in a way, he always sort of knew. maybe he felt some sort of sick satisfaction at the way you kept your eyes trained on him while soobin was training his eyes on you. maybe he felt some 12-year-old boy kind of pride at the way you seemed to put him before anyone else in spite of such a viable prospective suitor, but any contentment he may have felt is flushed away at the anxiety of you having somebody so good right besides you — somebody who is obviously much better than him.
do you feel the same way? no, even before that, are you okay? he knows he hurt you really badly. are you still hurting? he wants to know. he has to know. so before he can talk himself out of it, he’s stumbling towards the door.
-
things are still pretty tense when taehyun walks out, but they begin to calm down after everyone asks if beomgyu is alright and taehyun answers in the positive, and you think you might just be in the clear before realizing things are never that easy. beomgyu stumbles out of the door and his gaze immediately locks on you.
“hey,” he says a little too loudly. the room is quiet, and though he didn’t say who he was addressing, it’s obvious it’s you with the way he’s staring so intensely. 
“hey,” he repeats even louder this time. to his chagrin, soobin is still next to you, but that doesn’t mean he can’t slide into the open space on the other side of you. of course, propriety would say that he shouldn’t, but propriety means nothing to beomgyu at this moment. not when he’s so drunk he smells like rubbing alcohol, and not when he’s so openly desperate he looks like a man gone mad.
with no grace to be seen, he plops down next to you, and even through your clothes and his jeans, his legs against yours still feel like they burn you. you try to move to avoid his touch so aggressively that poor, large soobin is squeezed into the armrest even more; and it’s all for naught, anyway, because beomgyu just scoots himself even closer. 
“how’re you?” he slurs, and though everyone tries their best not to seem like they’re eavesdropping, they most certainly are. no matter how hard they try not to stare, their gazes keep flicking towards the two of you and their voices are a little more hushed. you’re beyond embarrassed, but beomgyu doesn’t seem to mind their looks one bit.
“beomgyu…” you whisper exasperatedly, accepting your fate as the spectacle that you currently are and trying to nip it in the bud with your obvious distaste for the situation.
“i jus’ wanna know how you are,” he says desperately as he senses your clear rejection, but to his eventual regret, he doesn't stop. you try to keep your voice low as you say your next words.
“good. look, i really don’t wanna do this with you right now. i have nothing to say to you and you don’t have anything to say to me that i actually want to hear, so i think it’s best if —” 
“but i told you i love you!” he exclaims, and everyone around you ceases to pretend that they aren’t listening. how can they even pretend when he’s quite literally yelling? you don’t notice a thing, though. you’re too absorbed in the melodrama unfolding before you, in which you are in the starring role. “i… i jus’ love you so much, i —” and before he can get out his next words, you’re swiftly standing up with soobin in tow and thanking taehyun for the invite while shuffling out of the front door.
-
beomgyu is devastated when you leave. he takes to walking outside to taehyun’s balcony as he lets tears roam freely down his reddened face. he thinks he’s alone before he hears somebody opening the door and shutting it behind them.
“do you seriously still not get it?” chaewon sneers.
“get what?” he sniffles, and she lets out a long-suffering sigh before she gets out her next words.
“you love her, right? and you miss her?” she asks slowly, as if he’s so stupid, he wouldn’t understand her if she said it any other way.
“of course i do,” he snaps, not appreciating the condescension in her tone, but all the bite is lost in translation because he looks nothing short of pathetic as his tears steadily fall. 
“right. you love her, you miss her, you want to talk to her. you, you, you. it’s still all about you and what you feel, but what about what she feels?” she asks, and he falters at her words. “all you’re doing is making things hard on her, and i can promise you that this ‘woe-is-me’ shit you’re doing right now isn’t gonna change her mind.” 
he thinks back to how you acted when you loved him — how you bent over backwards to try to conceal your feelings so as not to inconvenience him. how everything you did was to make life easier on him, no matter how difficult it was for you. yes, you loved him, but you did it in a way he could accept. you did things his way, and for so long; and all he’s done in return is demand your love in his way, yet again.
“so what do i do?” he earnestly asks. “how do i get her back?” 
“... after what you've done to her? you don't,” she answers after a pause, and he deflates at her words. she’s right, of course.
he thinks about how he’d feel if you treated him the way he treated you. he feels like his heart is dying in his chest just at the memory of you rejecting him, but to be rejected so cruelly? what do you even do with yourself then? he wonders how people live with that kind of hurt, but then, you did it for so long and were even able to paste a smile on your face as you did it. he remembers when he thought that you were a horrible actress because of how he could still see through you despite how bothered you obviously were by his actions, but only now does he understand how much resilience it must've taken. somehow, it just makes him miss you even more. makes him love you even more.
-
beomgyu is a pervert. a sick-in-the-head, nasty, freakish, bottom-of-the-barrel, lowdown, dirty pervert. that's the only way he can accurately describe himself in this moment, and the guilt is strong, but not stronger than his need to let this dream play out the way he wants it to. and the way he wants it to goes like this:
your naked body is splayed across beomgyu’s bed as you watch him undress with watery eyes. 
“i need you, gyu,” you whimper as tears threaten to fall.
“shh, baby. lemme take care of you,” he whispers as he lines himself up with your entrance.
you brace yourself by locking your hands around his neck as he pushes in, and you both groan as your pussy struggles to take him in. it’s so real, he feels you spasm around him like it did on the night you spent together, and he knows he’s a goner.
he lets you adjust for a few moments before slowly pulling out, then thrusting himself back in again. each stroke feels like heaven as you cry out with every movement. he grips your hips, but he tries his best not to hurt you when he does it. you’re far too precious to leave marks on, after all. 
beomgyu gets lost in the feeling all too quickly. he wants to be uncharacteristically gentle, but the feeling of you squeezing around him makes his eyes redden, and before long, he’s drilling into you. 
“‘m close!” you cry out.
“me too, baby,” he whispers, and the feeling of you clenching around him as you come is enough to send him over the edge. he spills himself into you with a broken moan. 
“i love you,” he says desperately as he tries to catch his breath. but even in his dreams, you don’t reply. 
-
soobin has always been sweet, but ever since the beomgyu incident he’s been even sweeter. he shows up to your place with your favorite snacks and never asks any unsavory questions. he takes your calls in the dead of night when he’s clearly been trying to sleep. he holds your hand when you start to space out. 
at first, it was easy to chalk it all up to what best friends do, but as the physical intimacy begins to increase, you start suspecting that something deeper is going on. you are not a cruel person — you’re not the type to pretend not to see something so clear when it inconveniences you (unlike a certain someone). so when soobin places your head on his shoulder during a movie night, against your meek disposition, you ask him a very simple question.
“binnie, do you like me?” and you don’t quite have the courage to look up at him while you ask him, opting to stare at the screen before you.
“yeah. yes, i do,” he replies, and while you would rather continue to avoid eye contact, you have enough respect for him to sit up and look him in his eyes.
“i’m so sorry,” you say, because what else can you say? 
“i know. i know you don’t feel the same way, you don’t have to tell me,” he answers with a soft, forced smile.
“i don’t wanna hurt you.”
“i know you don’t.”
“what can i do?” you ask sincerely.
“i… i don’t need you to do anything. if you need me, you have me. if you don’t need me, you still have me,” he tells you.
“that’s not fair to you.”
“then just give me some time,” he replies. “i’ll get over it if you just give me some time.”
“okay,” you nod.
“are you sure you’ll be okay?” he asks, still as concerned about you as ever. as if you’re not breaking his heart.
“i will be,” you lie. regardless of whether he believes you or not, he nods and gathers his things before leaving.
-
you are, in the most crass of terms, pissy drunk. your sticky situation with soobin is one for the history books, if you do say so yourself, and you lack the proper vernacular at the moment to express just how awful it is. who knew your best friend on this planet had secret feelings for you? well, it seems like everyone, actually, because as you confide in your friends, none seem to be particularly surprised. it appears that you’re the last one to find out. 
of course, you’re only able to deal with the revelation by visiting your favorite bar. against your better judgment, you go alone. usually, you’d ask soobin to come with you, but you can’t do that with the way things are right now, which just makes you feel even worse. you’re on drink number three (or four…  or five…) when an unknown man slides into the barstool next to you. you don’t quite catch his name, but you know you’re not interested in him, or, well, anyone at the moment. you’re far too distracted by your current circumstances to even entertain the thought of another man right now, but even as you deny, deny, deny him, he doesn’t quite seem to get the message.
your vision is blurred as you try to hint to him for what must be the umpteenth time that you’re not looking for anything at the moment, but he still doesn’t understand, and you’re starting to feel every ounce of alcohol you’ve consumed until now. you place your head in your hands as you try to keep the room from spinning, but it doesn’t seem to help, and you can feel his hand squeezing your upper thigh. you’re not the most assertive person at the best of times, and you are certainly even less so in your drunken state, so you’re trying to gather your bearings to reject him once and for all when you feel an arm sliding around your neck. 
“there you are, baby. who’s this?” a baritone voice asks rather loudly, a voice you’d recognize anywhere. beomgyu’s. your gut reaction is to push him off and cuss him out, but even with your delayed reactions, you’re able to register that he’s trying to help you out as you lock eyes with his hesitant brown ones.
“gyu,” you say with what you hope is a believable smile. 
“you’re taken?” the man asks disappointedly.
“yep,” you reply, and he scoffs before pushing out his barstool so abruptly, the chair squeaks before storming away. 
“are you alright?” beomgyu asks quietly.
“‘m fine,” you tell him as you rip his arm off from your shoulder. “i don’t need your help.” 
“i know!” he exclaims a little too desperately. “i-i know that, i just —” but the universe smacks you across the face as you begin to gag, alcohol choosing now of all times to rock your stomach with a vengeance. you begin to try to scramble off of the stool, but you’re so drunk, you’re having trouble even standing up. 
without any prompting, beomgyu hurriedly pulls you up and places your arm around his shoulder before hustling you to the bathroom. you don’t even have time to close the door behind you before you’re hunched over the toilet and choking vomit out of your throat. beomgyu slams the door behind him and rushes over to your pitiful frame before shushing you and rubbing circles into your back in an attempt to calm you down. in turn, you bat his hands away without even condescending to look at him when you do it. his heart stings, but he realizes it’s not about him as you lurch forward and continue to empty your stomach. 
when you’re finally finished, you feel a wet paper towel gently rubbing the sweat off of your forehead, then it travels down to your lips where vomit still pools around them. beomgyu intently cleans you up without saying a word.
“a-are you alright?” he asks meekly, and as if only now registering that it’s him, you push his hands away and say your next words. 
“i thought i told you i didn’t need your fucking help. i hate when people make me repeat myself, didn’t you know?” he winces at your harsh words and sharpness of tone.
“i… i know. i’m sorry. i just thought that you might want somebody with you. i’m really sorry.” and even through your drunken stupor, you know he’s not just apologizing for his interference. but you don’t care.
“and why would i want you?” he’s silent at this before finally replying. 
“you know, when you told me i’d regret it, i didn’t really understand what you meant; but i understand it now. i’m really, really regretting it. i should’ve listened to you,” he says softly with tears brimming in his reddened eyes. 
you’re at a loss for words at this. what do you say? what can you say besides “i told you so”? somehow, that doesn’t quite do the sentiment justice.
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part iii: betty
after vomiting, you actually feel like you’ve sobered up quite a bit, but you’re still not speaking, which beomgyu takes to heart.
“i can’t — i’m just really, really sorry,” he brokenly sobs in the face of your silence. “so sorry.” 
“i know,” you reply after a pause, and you do know. you didn’t before, but his pathetic actions and demeanor have shown you that he means what he says. your acknowledgment of his repentance just makes him cry even harder, though. because it doesn’t seem to have changed a thing.
“i was a bastard. i was so fucking awful to you when you were just trying to help me, and i didn’t know what i had until you were gone,” he continues, quite openly sobbing at this point. he looks like a man gone mad as he cries in the public restroom of a bar, but what's the point of trying to keep his cool now? maybe this way, you’ll understand just how much he means what he says.
but you’re the victim. you’re the one who should be crying her heart out at the moment. you didn’t even do anything besides reject him after he’s been continuously rejecting you and treating you like gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe for years. why does he get to cry and get what he wants? what about you?  you want to hold onto this injustice, but the way he crumbles in front of you makes your heart soften. no matter how angry you may be, you can't help but try to reason with him.
“beomgyu, i know you’re sorry. i really do,” you sigh, and your tone tells him everything he needs to know, but he still hangs onto every word as if they’re the most important things he’ll ever hear. still, he feels dread at what you have to say next tugging on his heartstrings.
“but it’s just not enough. you treated me like i was garbage for years. you used me and my feelings, and tossed me away whenever you wanted.” and he withers even more with every word. “and i let you do it because i loved you and i thought you didn’t know how i felt, but you fucking knew what you were doing; and you still slept with me while knowing how i felt about you. how can you expect me to forgive you for that?” you ask, and it is not completely rhetorical. you seem to be searching for an answer, but he doesn’t have one. he never did. if he could figure out how to justify any of his actions, he would, but he can’t seem to come up with anything even as he scrambles for a response. 
he knows he's losing you, so why not just be honest? as a last ditch effort, he lays everything out on the table. 
“you said you loved me,” he says. “m-maybe, if i can be better, you’ll love me again. i can be good for you, i-i know i can. so if you just —” 
“beomgyu,” you interrupt, though not maliciously. you seem to have some level of patience for him even in spite of everything. “i still love you. love was never the problem.” and he can’t help but feel a shred of hope bud in the wake of your words, but it’s killed in its crib at what you say next. “but that’s just not enough anymore. the way you’ve been feeling for the past few weeks is how i’ve felt for years. i bet you can’t even imagine that — i don’t even want you to imagine that, actually. it just hurts too much.” 
and while you just said that you didn’t want him to, he can’t help but envision exactly that: the feeling that he had when you were with soobin multiplied exponentially. and for so long. and with different people. that same pain over and over and over again with no reprieve besides for the hope that someday, if you’re lucky, you might have a chance. someday, maybe any day, but probably not any time soon. to live like that and for so long, just thinking about it makes his heart ache and his stomach churn. 
“do you understand me now?” you ask, and gone are the traces of resentment and disgust. your gaze is only filled with pity. somehow, that makes him feel even worse. 
“y-yeah,” he says breathlessly with an inhale so sharp, it’s as if he’s in physical pain, all the while trying desperately to gather his bearings and to look and sound like a functioning member of society. he fails in light of his constant stream of tears. “i, um, i get it now.” 
“okay,” you say softly. “i’m going to call yunjin so she can pick me up. can you get home safely?” this is it. you don’t have to say it, but he knows that you two will never speak again after this. what else is there to say, after all? 
“i can.”
“good,” you smile, and he tries his best to smile, too, but he doesn’t quite make it there. “goodbye, beomgyu.”
“goodbye,” he whispers shakily, and he looks so profoundly devastated that you wish you could comfort him, but you know it’d just make things worse; so without another word, you leave him alone as you prepare to call yunjin.
beomgyu doesn’t know how long he spends in the wake of your absence, but he cries until no more tears will leave his eyes. when he's all cried out, eyes swollen and face red, he leaves the bar in a state of borderline delirium. your words echo in his unstable state of mind, and he realizes that even when you had every right to treat him like the scum of the earth, you were kinder than he could ever reasonably expect for you to be. it seems that you still gave him more than he ever deserved. as always.
-
things with soobin have stayed in an odd sort of purgatory for weeks now, but unfortunately or not, life goes on, so you don't have the luxury of ruminating on it as much as you probably need to. you don't reach out very much for fear of unwittingly making your circumstances with him even more difficult for him to move past, but that certainly doesn't mean that you don't miss him. still, you prioritize his feelings in the matter over your own and patiently await the day where he finally feels comfortable enough to be friends with you once more. he forgoes most of the gatherings that your friends arrange, and it's like a knife to the heart every time. 
as for your situation with beomgyu, you deliberately try to push that out of your mind as frequently as humanly possible. you feel like things have ended on the best note you could ever ask for, and your friends know better than to bring him up around you, so you figure that ignorance is bliss. old habits die hard, though, and you find yourself wanting to check on him, but you remind yourself that that’s not your job anymore — and it never should have been in the first place, really, which is enough to stop you in your tracks on the bad nights where you want nothing more than to reach out. you reason with yourself that he has friends, so there’s no need to concern yourself with him. 
but you miss him. you miss when you were stupid enough to believe that he didn’t know about your feelings. you wish you could go back and erase your love for him so you two could go back to just being friends. what he did was unforgivable, you know that, but you still miss all the times he made you laugh. still, that pales in comparison to all the times he made you cry, right? that's how you should look at things. that's how you will look at things. 
as it is, you’re perfectly fine with never speaking to him again. at least, that’s what you tell yourself.
-
“are you okay?” taehyun asks in a hushed tone. he hasn’t seen beomgyu in over a month now, but beomgyu finally agreed to come out with him after taehyun said he missed him. now, they are seated in a booth at the dimly lit bar just down the street from taehyun’s place.
“y-yeah,” beomgyu replies with a forced upturn of his lips as he sloshes around the non-alcoholic drink in his cup. after the last time you saw him, he decided to ditch alcohol for the time being. taehyun was right about him needing to act like an adult, and he just knows that if he were to get even a drop of alcohol in him, he’d come crawling back to you, probably to your disgust. 
“good,” taehyun sighs in relief. “i was really worried about you for a while there, you know? everyone was.”
“i know,” beomgyu answers perfunctorily. everyone has been worried about him and has said as much. well, pretty much everyone except for you. 
“are you ever gonna talk about what happened?” taehyun carefully probes, which causes beomgyu to cease all actions and stare blankly at his cup — liquid still gently swishing back and forth. 
“nothing happened that you probably didn’t already guess,” beomgyu says with a derisive smile. its sentiment is not directed at taehyun, however, but at himself. 
“that doesn't mean i don't want to hear it from you,” taehyun replies.
with a sigh of defeat, beomgyu begrudgingly recounts his circumstances with you, sparing no details. at first, taehyun's eyes widen every so often, but after a while, his face relaxes into something somber and resigned. when beomgyu is finished, his gaze remains locked on taehyun’s face, searching for any semblance of a reaction, but he remains stoic.
“well?” beomgyu asks impatiently.
“well, what?” taehyun says after a moment, and he's tempted to just leave it at that, but after looking into beomgyu’s pleading eyes, he realizes that he needs to say more. “you fucked up, but you know that already. i would say that i can't believe you did that, but if it's you, i can believe it,” he sighs, and beomgyu really wishes he hadn't pressed taehyun for more, because he feels smaller and smaller with every new word. 
“i know. i’m a piece of shit who doesn't deserve her. i never did,” beomgyu relents, feeling completely helpless. he wasn't expecting comfort or anything like that — he doesn't deserve it, but he's still hurt by taehyun's words, regardless of their validity. they just further confirm what he already knows.
“yeah, you're right,” taehyun agrees with a nod, and beomgyu deflates even more, if that's even possible. 
“is… is she okay?” beomgyu asks timidly. he's been too afraid to ask about you, but now that taehyun knows the truth, it seems pointless to beat around the bush.
“not really,” taehyun says with a twitch of his lips. 
“why not?!” beomgyu exclaims a little too loudly. taehyun hurriedly shushes him before glancing around the bar to make sure nobody’s attention has been drawn to the two of them. 
“why not?” beomgyu repeats, voice lower this time, but urgency just as palpable.
“i don't know. i think something happened between her and soobin, but neither of them will talk about it. i'm sure you can guess what happened, though,” taehyun sighs. and he's right. beomgyu can guess, but he can't quite believe it. you must've rejected soobin, but why? why would you reject someone so perfect for you? does it have anything to do with him?
-
beomgyu can’t shake the feeling that your situation with soobin has something to do with him. he knows he’s being vain, he knows he’s being selfish, but he can’t help but hope. he doesn't tell anyone about this, though, for fear that reality will be much crueler than he can cope with. he tells himself he's perfectly content with living with said hope and deluding himself into thinking he still has a place in your heart, but he can't control the way his mind wanders to places he scarcely dares to dream of these days. dreams where you miss him, where you still think about him, where you forgive him play out in a number of ways, but in the end, they're nothing more than, well, dreams.
-
as much as some would like to avoid it, gathering for taehyun’s friendsgiving party is inevitable. no matter the circumstances, nobody can quite justify missing out on your friend group’s collective tradition. you try to steel yourself for the potentially awkward encounters with soobin and beomgyu, but you can’t help but worry about potential “what if’s”. still, you decide to be as mature as possible. if you see soobin, you'll make light conversation before excusing yourself if he seems uncomfortable. if you see beomgyu, well, hopefully he'll just ignore you as you've ignored him.
when you arrive at taehyun's, you greet everyone as usual. honestly, as awful as it sounds, you're pretty relieved to see that neither soobin nor beomgyu have arrived just yet. you drink just enough to take some of the edge off, so when soobin comes in, it's not an earth-shattering event. when he greets you, you're prepared to just leave it at a cordial, somewhat distant conversation, and he seems to be on the exact same page. he says hello and performs all of the necessary niceties before wandering off and getting himself a drink. it hurts your heart that this is what your friendship has been reduced to, but you know it's what's best at the moment. you don't want to unintentionally hurt him by insisting he push his limits by being with you. 
you try to shove this out of your mind, and you're talking to yunjin about nothing in particular when beomgyu walks through the door. you can’t help but look up when he enters, but you will yourself to look away while plastering a smile on your face you already know isn’t believable in the slightest. mercifully, he doesn’t do anything other than wave at you and yunjin before getting lost in the hustle and bustle of the party.
you think the worst of the night is over, and you calmly go through the motions of your friendsgiving traditions as if everything is fine. after dinner, you find yourself sitting alone, wondering if you should just hang it up and go home a bit early. before you can do that, though, you notice soobin approaching your spot on the couch. 
“hey,” he says a little unsteadily as he plops down next to you, no doubt a little tipsy from the drinks he’s had.
“hey,” you shyly reply with a smile. 
“how are you?” he asks. 
“i’m okay,” you answer, trying to maintain your composure. “what about you?”
“better,” he says before hesitantly continuing. “i miss you.” your heart soars, but it also somewhat aches.
“i miss you, too,” you tell him honestly. he smiles, albeit very softly.
“how are things with beomgyu?” he probes.
“as good as they’ll get, i guess.”
“so not very good, huh?”
“no, not very good,” you say truthfully. 
“well, why don't you just cut the bullshit, then?” you're very clearly taken aback by his words. you're even actually offended that he could casually say such a thing.
“what are you talking about?” your tone is more defensive than bewildered, but he just looks at you with knowing eyes that make you feel microscopic.
“you know what i’m talking about,” he argues. “this whole fucked up charade that you two are performing isn’t fooling anybody, so why even try?” 
“he doesn't deserve me,” you scoff. “he can't just treat me like shit and get away with it because he's sorry now. he needs to pay for what he's done.”
“and who are you punishing by doing that? him or yourself?” you're, again, surprised, so you don't quite know what to say in response.
“i know you. i know what you want, and denying that doesn't do anything but hurt the both of you. you might as well get what you want. maybe he doesn't deserve it — i'm not really sure, but don't you want to try, at least? with how desperate he’s been acting, i don’t think he’ll hurt you again.” you seriously ponder his words, but the main conclusion you come to is that soobin is still so, so kind. he had — or has — feelings for you, but he still wants to see you happy. you don’t have to say anything, though, because it seems like he understands how grateful you are just from your smile.
he pulls you in for a hug, one so warm and loving you can't help but melt into it. you could cry at how relieved you are that you two will soon overcome the awkwardness and distance. it seems he wasn't one of your best friends for nothing. when you two break apart, you look up at him with a watery smile. before you can say anything, though, you register the odd look on his face. you look confused for just a second before he says his next words in a hushed, hurried tone.
“i'm doing this for your own good,” he whispers as he leans down and catches your lips in a tender kiss. to say you're stunned is an understatement, indeed, but the kiss ends almost as quickly as it begins, leaving you reeling. 
“w-why did you —” 
“i said it was for your own good, but it was kind of for me, too,” he softly chuckles. “maybe i want to punish him a little bit.” you don't really understand what he means until you follow his gaze and catch beomgyu in his line of sight. oh, you get it now. who knew soobin was such a sadist? 
your conversation with soobin ends and you feel a lot lighter than you have in a long, long time, but his words leave you with more than enough to think about. you shake your head and go out to the balcony to clear your head. after a few minutes, you hear the door behind you creak open. you know it's beomgyu before he even says anything. 
“so, you and soobin, huh?” he questions softly as he settles next to you, leaning against the railing. you glance up at him to respond, but his mirthless smile stops you before you can say a word. 
“i’m happy for you,” he adds as sincerely as he can, and you’re not sure you buy that, but at the very least, he seems to want you to believe it. you're not really sure how to respond. you don't even know if you want to explain everything to him, actually, because you're still debating on whether or not you should forgive him. can things really be that easy? does he deserve your forgiveness? who's to say he won't just break your heart again? as you struggle with how to answer, he continues.
“i'm, um, i'm glad you found somebody. especially soobin. he'll treat you right — you deserve it,” he says before timidly rambling. “s-sorry if i’m overstepping, i just wanted you to know that; and, uh, if you ever need anything, i'm here.”
“need anything? like what?” you can't help but wonder aloud. now, this is unlike the beomgyu you've come to know. if it were, then he'd be throwing a fit trying to get you to change your mind so you'd be with him instead of soobin. 
“l-like, if you need advice or something,” he earnestly answers, somewhat surprised you said anything at all. “or if you just want to talk or complain or anything. whatever it is that you need, i’ll be here. i owe you that much after all you’ve done for me.” you look confused for a moment before you answer him.
“i didn’t do those things so you’d owe me, beomgyu,” you tell him, and his heart flutters against his will at the use of his name.
“i-i know, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean it like that. s-sorry. i just want you to know that there’s someone who wants to be there for you, especially since you were always there for me, but even if you weren’t, i would still want to be there for you,” he nervously replies. 
“why?” you quietly ask, and that actually brings a wistful smile to his face. 
“because i care about you,” he says, voice dripping with sincerity and solemnity. what he really wants to tell you is that it's because he loves you, but it's clear that it's the wrong time. he can't just dump his feelings onto you again — that would be wrong since you're obviously involved with someone now. if it were the old him, he'd do it with absolutely no regrets if it meant that you'd come back to him, but he can't do that to you. he can't just steamroll over your wants and feelings like he's always done. 
“but why?” you question persistently. he never saw anything of value in you before, not outside of how he could use you, so what’s so great about you now? you just can’t understand it. his sincere smile turns wry, teeming with a sense of self-mockery as he whispers his next words.
“because you're amazing. you're everything anyone could ever want.” anything i could ever want. he doesn't have to say that last part, because you can already hear the meaning of his words. just because you can hear it, however, doesn't mean you understand it.
“i never thought you, of all people, would think that,” you say honestly. 
“i know, but that's my fault, not yours,” he replies. you purse your lips in response, mulling over your options. you could just walk away right now and go back to ignoring beomgyu forever. it's what he deserves, you reason. he humiliated you in a way like none other, and nobody would blame you if you never let that go; but you look at how hard he's trying, and your heart softens. maybe you want to give it a try. maybe you'll get hurt again, but with how desperate he is, you really don't think so. still, you can’t let him get away with it so easily. you just have to make sure his feelings are pure.
“i know you still have feelings for me,” you say after a long pause, and his face reddens in shame, feeling like his ugly heart that he was desperately trying to conceal has been exposed. he supposes this is the way it should be, but he doesn't want to guilt you into anything, so he chooses to remain silent in his humiliation. “if it were like before, you would just tell me that. why is it different now?” you continue. well, that's it then. he should be truthful and say what he wants to say, and unbeknownst to him, what you want to hear.
“because your feelings should be more important than my own. that's what you do when you love somebody,” he chokes out. “you taught me that.”
you're quiet for a long, long time. too long, in fact. so long, he thinks it's time to call it quits and suppress his unrequited feelings for you until he feels them no longer. he can't imagine a world where he successfully does so, but for your sake, he should try. before he can say his goodbye, though, you speak again.
“okay,” you sigh.
“what?” he asks confusedly, eyebrows furrowed.
“i said, ‘okay’. don't make me regret this,” you tell him before grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him down to you. your lips softly meet each other and his eyes widen in sheer shock, though he doesn't resist you. his breath is labored when you finally part, eyes hazy with his lips red and swollen. 
“w-what are you — i thought — why are you —”
“i'll give you one chance,” you interrupt. “if you fuck up, it's over. do you understand?” he takes a second to process your words — but it's just a second — and his eyes well up with relieved tears when he understands. he dumbly nods in agreement, too afraid that if he speaks, no intelligible noise will come out. 
“good.” the corners of your mouth curl with a ghost of a smile, and you're prepared to leave it at that as you pull away from him; but like a dog, he earnestly chases after your touch before pulling you towards him, lips meeting yours again. the kiss is hungrier this time — more insistent, but he doesn't push his luck. eventually, he parts from you, leaving you both panting. his tears, which he was previously holding back, now flow from his eyes with no resistance. 
“thank you,” he says gently.
“for what?” you ask, head a little clouded from the kiss, but he just shakes his head with a smile. you will never understand just how grateful he is for the mercy you’ve shown him, but he’ll try to show you how much it means to him. 
-
things go slowly after that — you do your best to ensure that they do; and beomgyu, to his credit, tries to oblige. you’re not official or anything like that, but you let him take you on dates, and he’s always trying to woo you in one way or another. he sends flowers when you work, he shows up to your place with food and drinks, he texts you every morning asking how you’ve slept. it’s everything you could have ever asked for, and you can really see how hard he’s trying, but when kisses become heated, you always pull away before things can go any further. beomgyu tries his best not to show his dejection, but you always end up apologizing before he adamantly insists that he’s more than okay with it. you appreciate his understanding because every time you think about going any further, you can’t help but remember the indelible scar that his previous betrayal left upon you. 
-
christmas parties at beomgyu’s, much like friendsgivings at taehyun’s, are a tradition within your friend group. now that the tension with soobin and (most of) the tension with beomgyu is no longer there, you find that you’re actually really excited to gather again. you have no intention of revealing the nature of your… circumstances with beomgyu to everyone, though, and beomgyu will never say it for fear of making you uncomfortable, but it makes his heart ache. he can't really blame you for not wanting to be tied to him, but that doesn't soothe the pain in his chest.
secret santa takes place without a hitch. that is, until you open up your gift, which is a necklace with a pendant of a silver sun, and it is revealed that soobin got it for you. it’s not the most expensive gift in the world, but it is uncommonly sentimental. many write it off as a pretty, but ultimately meaningless piece of jewelry, but beomgyu instinctively knows it’s because of how so much of you resembles the sun. how could he not understand? you’re warm and nurturing, but it’s unsettling to realize that you’re not his alone. he tries to tell himself that it's not the end of the world, but when soobin turns you around and gently clasps the necklace for you before smoothing out your hair, he can't help but feel like it is. that’s enough for him to excuse himself to his room, but you’re far too preoccupied with gushing over how much you love the gift to soobin to really notice. 
when he enters his room, he sits on the edge of his bed, placing his head in his hands with a groan. he shouldn't be feeling like this. he has no right to feel like this. you had already taken the time to explain that you and soobin are just friends, and you stressed that he’ll have to be okay with that fact if he wants to be with you, to which he eagerly agreed; but he can't help but think that it's only a matter of time before you come to your senses and leave him to be with soobin for good. 
you two aren't even technically official, and your hesitance to be classified as such to your closest friends only shows him just how much you want that to continue to be true. what if he's just a pit stop in yours and soobin's love story? that seems like the most likely outcome. he can just see it now, you and soobin laughingly recalling your tumultuous history to your future kids. is beomgyu being dramatic? probably, but that doesn't stop his mind from running wild. why would you choose to stay with him when soobin, who's been devoted to you since the beginning, is right there? 
the door to his room opens, and he whips his head up in hopes that it's you coming back to him, so he can't hide his disappointment when he's greeted by chaewon’s figure shutting the door behind her before she plops down beside him. his mood turns even more sour than it already was when he sees her.
“if you're here to laugh at me for how pathetic i am, i don’t want to hear it,” he says bitingly. she’s quiet for a moment, as if she’s digesting his words, before she nods.
“you’re right, you are pathetic,” she deadpans. his temper flares, but before he can lash out, she continues. “you look stupid just sulking here because your little girlfriend got attention from another man.”
“h-how did you kn—” 
“she may be subtle, but you definitely aren’t,” she snorts. 
“oh,” he defeatedly replies with a laughably crestfallen look.
“doesn't feel good, does it? seeing the person you love with somebody else,” she asks snarkily. “it’s one of the worst feelings in the world, if you ask me.” 
“and what the hell do you know about that?” he spits. chaewon is one of the most spiteful and bull-headed people he knows. he can't imagine her being too broken up about supposed unrequited love. 
“because that's how i feel when i look at the both of you,” she says matter-of-factly, as if she didn't just drop the bomb of the century. he knew that she was attracted to him, obviously, but he never knew her feelings ran any deeper than that. he sputters as he looks at her, but she cuts him off.
“i know you didn't know about my feelings, for real this time. i guess i'm a better actress than her, or maybe you just never cared enough to find out. whatever it is, i know it's hopeless, so you don't have to tell me.”
“i'm sorry,” he murmurs, but she just shakes her head.
“thanks, but your apology just makes me feel worse,” she scoffs. “i don’t need or want the pity of the most pitiful person in the world.” her words are undeniably harsh, but he can register the amount of hurt in them.
“i'm still sorry,” he says. “i know how you feel, and i know it's really hard. i'm sorry for never noticing.” his sincerity makes her calloused heart soften.
“yeah, it's hard; but for what it's worth, i think she loves you, too,” she tells him.
“i really hope so,” he replies with a sardonic smile before it melts into something more genuine. “thank you for telling me about your feelings. i'm sorry that i don't feel the same way, but i hope you find somebody who does.”
“thank you,” she says, more sincerely this time. “friends?” with this, she extends her hand for him to shake. he smiles at her gesture as he complies. 
“friends.” hesitantly, she pulls him into a hug. he’s stunned for a second before patting her back in reciprocation. he can’t love her, but he can learn to appreciate her, which he has never done, even with all of her help. maybe he’s becoming a better person because of you. 
as if on cue, the door opens the moment that thought is fully formed. he’s relieved to see you for the split second before he realizes how this must look to you. he madly breaks away from her in a haste.
“it's not what it looks like!” he exclaims, and chaewon tactfully rises and scurries out of the door before shutting it behind her, but you remain silent and rooted to your spot.
“i swear! it's really not what it looks like,” he says pleadingly as he stands and grabs your hands, which you promptly smack away. 
“i just fucking knew this would happen,” you spit. “i won't give it up to you, so you turn around and pull this shit — is that it?”
“n-no! seriously, we’re just friends! she told me that she had feelings for me, but i rejected her, and we said we would just be friends,” he desperately explains. “i swear to god i would never do that to y—” he wants to continue, but the way your shoulders shake as you put your head in your hands stops him in his tracks. 
he hurriedly embraces you as he hears muffled cries escape your lips.
“i’m so sorry, please don’t cry. it wasn’t what it looked like, i promise,” he says as soothingly as he can muster, but that doesn't seem to stop your tears. he feels more and more helpless as you continue to break down in front of him, so he resorts to saying whatever he can think of to calm you down. 
“i’m sorry, it’s all my fault. i never should’ve touched her. just don't cry, okay? i hate seeing you cry,” he whispers as he draws circles on your back, pressing you closer to him. after a while, your sobs die out and your breathing becomes more steady. 
“a-are you okay?” he timidly probes. you stare at him with eyebrows furrowed for a bit before you slightly nod. he purses his lips before continuing.
“are you going to leave me?” he whispers, and he regrets asking as soon as the words leave his lips. 
it's okay if you're only indulging him in this would-be relationship because you pity him. it's okay if he's just a pit stop in your love story with soobin. it's okay if he turns out to be nothing more than a momentary distraction from the actual love of your life, just as long as you stay with him for as long as you can stand it. why would he question his place in your life? why would he ruin a good thing by making you tell him to his face that you don't want him? he should've just waited for you to figure it out on your own instead of forcing you to confront the true nature of your feelings for him. 
when he’s met with nothing but your pensive silence, he speaks again.
“i-i’m sorry i asked. i, um, i understand,” he adds defeatedly.
“no,” you croak. 
“n-no? what do you mean by —” 
“no, i won’t leave you,” you declare, a little bit more confidently this time.
“you won’t?” he asks doubtfully, taken aback by this sentiment.
“do you want me to?” 
“no! i-i just can’t believe it. why would you stay with me?” 
“because i think you love me. do you?” 
“of course!” he exclaims.
“then will you show me? how much you love me, i mean?” you ask.
“h-how do you mean?”
you look up at him and pull him by his collar so his lips meet yours, and his eyes widen before he melts into the kiss. he feels like he’s floating as you move your lips against his, but he groans when you softly tug his hair, which allows you to snake your tongue into his welcoming mouth. that’s enough to replace the floating feeling with one of pure need. when you part, you're both gasping for air. 
“are you sure?” he seemed so lost in the feeling before, but he looks nothing short of timid right now, endearing you in a way you previously thought was impossible.
“yes.”
he gulps and guides you to his bed, firmly gripping your hand as if he’ll lose you if he doesn’t hold onto you. carefully, reverently, he begins to undress you, making sure not to be too rough, juxtaposing how crass he was the first (and last) time you two did this. when you’re fully undressed, he shamelessly takes the view of you in. you subconsciously feel embarrassed and start to cover yourself, and he gently, but firmly, takes your arms and pulls them away from your shivering frame.
“don’t hide from me. you’re beautiful,” he whispers, before ducking down and pulling you in for a heated kiss. it’s still gentle, but there’s more fire behind it than usual. eventually, he breaks away and quickly rids himself of his clothes, contrasting greatly with the tenderness he showed you as he took yours off. when he’s finished, he kisses you again. this time, though, he doesn’t just stop at your lips, and he trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck before he pushes you down onto the bed and finds his way down to your aching pussy.
he plants kisses on your open thighs until your legs are trembling and your core is glistening with anticipation. greedily, he takes one experimental, flat-tongued lick from your pussy and groans at your taste. he starts slowly — licking stripes until his movements become a series of alternating between this and more focused licks to your folds and clit. eventually, he takes one of his fingers and prods at your weeping hole before pushing it in to the knuckle. he curls and teases until he finds your sweet spot with little effort. 
“o-oh,” you sigh, but before you can get used to the feeling, he slides another finger in and repeats his movements, softly sucking on your clit as he does it. beomgyu tries to show restraint, he really does, but you taste so good that before long, he’s practically hammering his fingers into you while he licks and sucks on your lower lips. you’re no match for his skilled tongue, so you’re falling apart more quickly than you’d like to admit. you hold onto his hair for dear life, tugging a little harder than you probably should, but you’re in no state to control your harshness as you reach the end. 
“gyu, i’m gonna — oh, shit — i’m coming! i’m coming!” you cry as your legs buckle, tightening around his head against your will. he doesn’t pull away, however; he just lets you cage him in between your thighs as if he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world. as you come down, he laps up your cum and removes his fingers to directly stick his tongue in your clenching hole. you think you might have to pull him off of you due to overstimulation, but he (reluctantly) does it himself before you can quite get there. 
he makes no move to clean himself up, and his expression is one of pure bliss, as if you were the one who just gave him the best oral of his life and not the other way around. he pulls you in for a heavy kiss, and you taste yourself along with the sweetness that is beomgyu. he tries to be patient, but he can't help but frantically line himself up with your entrance, poking and prodding his tip against your still-spasming hole as he takes one of your hands into his own while using the other to guide himself into you. 
“is this okay?” he nervously asks. you nod. with a strained breath, he slowly begins to push into you. 
it's a struggle to push himself in, meeting resistance as you clench around him, pussy trying desperately to accommodate his length. your hand tightly grips his as you feel the almost unbearable stretch, and he soothingly caresses his thumb over your finger, shuddering as you take him in inch by inch. it feels even better than the first time, somehow — you're even warmer and wetter than before. with labored breaths, he tries to keep himself from coming early as he feels you contracting around him. when he’s finally completely sheathed in you, it's like puzzle pieces fitting together; things seem more right than they have since, well, the last time you two did this. you stay like  that for what must be a long time — just feeling each other in an act of pure intimacy as you both heave out labored breaths. 
“are you ready?” he whispers, and after a few seconds, you nod. he shakily pulls out, feeling your pussy struggling to keep him in, and takes a deep breath before piercing you in one fluid motion, scraping against your g-spot with ease. you whimper at the sensation as he pulls himself out before ramming back in again. 
“relax, baby. i know you can take me. you were made for me,” he says soothingly as he sets his pace. he tries to take things slowly, but it’s difficult when it feels like you’re sucking him in with every thrust. his words comfort you, and before long, you're melting into his touch.
“so good,” he groans as he repeatedly hits your cervix. “you’re so fucking perfect.” all you can do is moan in response, feeling so detached from reality that the only thing chaining you to it is the way he’s fucking you. your grip on his hand tightens until you’re sure his fingers are numb, but he makes no move to stop you. he even leans down to plant a kiss on your lips, which was meant to be mostly innocent, but it quickly devolves into your tongues and teeth clashing against  each other as he snaps his hips into yours. you feel more than full as he stretches you out and pounds into you so deeply, you feel him in your stomach. you can only be described as lightheaded as he hits the deepest parts of you relentlessly, and you feel yourself getting closer to your climax — causing you to let out an animalistic whine.
“shh, baby. i’ve got you. just let go, okay?” you have no choice but to oblige when he continues drilling into you. you couldn't stop even if you wanted to. it's only a few moments before your eyes are rolling backwards as you mercilessly clamp down around him. the feeling of you tightening on his length pushes him to his own end, and he moans out “oh, g-god, i love you,” while he spills himself into you, shuddering as he does it. you feel his hot cum flooding your insides, eventually leaking out of your aching cunt as he slowly thrusts it into you. you stay like that, just joined together, for a long while.
with reluctance, he pulls out of you. you're both silent as he collapses on top of you and mindlessly toys with your hair. 
“i love you, too,” you whisper.
“w-what?” he shoots up and stares at you in disbelief, scanning your face in earnest.
“you heard me,” you reply. 
“can you — can you say it again? please?” your purse your lips before responding.
“i love you, too.”
he doesn't mean for them to, but his eyes well up with tears. he grabs you and flips you on top of him before locking his arms around you. your head rests comfortably against his chest as he pulls you closer and closer, nuzzling his cheek onto the top of your head. 
“i can't believe this is real,” he whispers between his tears, and you can't stop yourself from smiling at the sheer amount of awe in his tone. “i'll be so good to you, you won't believe it.”
“okay,” you chuckle, in spite of yourself. what can you do other than believe him when he's so damn desperate? 
notes pt. 2: finishing this has most certainly been an uphill battle. i was writing like a few sentences a day for the longest time. still, i hope you all enjoyed this. i love you very much, my friends. also, please let me know what you thought about it (as long as it's not mean!)
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mochatsin · 9 months ago
Text
When MC is a Writer
You’ve written several books back in the human realm, some posted online while others were published. You have some works unfinished but since you were taken to Devildom, you had to put them on hold. Eventually the brothers find out about your hobby.
Hi I had this idea while I was reading light novels. Certain brothers would have certain themes in whatever is being written to fit them, but feel free to imagine what kind of story your MC would write. Thanks for reading!
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Lucifer
Lucifer was out on a stroll on RAD when he spotted you with Simeon having lunch together, looking deep in discussion. He does notice that you both have been spending a lot of time together and a part of him is curious as to why that is. You’re either talking with Simeon during lunch breaks or meeting up with him after school. He’s not jealous, Lucifer is more intrigued as to what must be so important that you come home late after your visits with the angel. 
You were both in his study when he finally asked you about it. You were late for dinner yesterday after coming home late from purgatory hall, Lucifer wouldn’t want you to start ditching your duties if it’s your turn to make dinner for the week. You explain to him that you’re not trying to avoid your chores at all, there’s just something that you needed Simeon’s help with. Now what could possibly Simeon do that Lucifer couldn’t? He probes a bit more until you spill the truth. 
You tell Lucifer that you and Simeon are meeting up together because you’re trying to tie the loopholes in this story that you were writing, and Simeon has given you great advice as a fellow writer. Now Lucifer is intrigued, enough to the point he put down his fountain pen and paused in his work. That can wait until tomorrow, he wants to hear all about your writing. He won’t pressure you into talking if you don’t want to tell him yet, but he promises not to make fun of whatever you make. 
You both enjoy a glass of demonus while you tell Lucifer the premise of your story, giving him enough background and detail for him to understand the part that you’re having trouble writing. Surprisingly, Lucifer is also quite a big help as he asks you thought provoking questions and offers suggestions that you can try to implement into your works. Given that he’s read several pieces of literature for the years he’s been alive, he has a lot of insight on what you can do to pace your story better. 
There’s a small smile on his face as he notices how your eyes shine every time you figure out a way for you to write the next parts, and he sits there in his spot sipping on his drink while you talk about what you can do for future updates. It’s impressive just listening to you untangle such an intricate story as if you’re just placing pieces of a puzzle together. To him, your mind is beautiful. 
Some time later, you found Lucifer by the living room with your book in his hand. He said that even though you explained the story, he still wanted to see how it really goes and appreciate your work. You asked if there’s anything you can do to thank him the other day for helping you, and all Lucifer asked  is that he’s the first to know once you update.
Mammon
Mammon is lounging in your room while he’s checking his stocks and latest lottery results (he lost) when you start asking him questions about gambling. He interpreted this as you finally having an interest in his gambling habits so he began talking about the mechanics. Roulette tables, machines, you name it and he’ll explain it with great detail. It would make the brothers wonder why Mammon can’t even remember to do all his chores when he can recall all of these with ease. 
You also ask about how people normally scheme and cheat in casinos. At first he thought you were accusing him even though he often does that in game nights at the House of Lamentation (Levi caught him), but then he realizes it’s just pure curiosity so he explains how he’s heard some people pull it off. It’s a high risk kind of stunt and since he doesn’t want to be banned from the casino then he doesn’t resort to those methods. 
Mammon then starts questioning why you’re asking these. It’s not like you were going to gamble right? He silently hoped you weren’t in debt to the point you’re resorting to gambling but no that’s not the case. You tell him that you’re trying to write a scene and it takes place in a casino, and since Mammon spends a lot of his time in those places then his experience makes him the best person to ask. He was definitely turning red at that last part. 
Mammon goes back to his room and since you talked about your writing, he searches for it online to check out your works. He didn’t know you were such a big shot in the reading community so he wants to see what your stuff was about. It started as reading the summary, to reading the introduction, and now he’s updated. They were all right, you’re good. 
Mammon starts reading more often, though it’s mostly limited to the things you’ve written before. Satan has been trying to get him to read his personal recommendations but if it’s something written by you then he’s not hesitating to pick it up. Lucifer is personally thanking you for giving Mammon something that helped temporarily forget his gambling habits and dumb schemes.
If you have any more questions about gambling or anything, Mammon is always happy to tell you everything he knows. Heck, he even offered to bring you over to the casino to let you have some personal experience of whatever that is you’re writing but the brothers warned you against that idea if you want to come back home with Grimm still in your pockets.
Levi
Lately Levi has been reading a lot of Light Novels. Usually he’d be updating himself with manga he’s read to check for any new updates but he decided to pick on light novels that one of his favorite manga’s are based on. He claims that despite the manga and anime adaptations, there’s still a whole world of lore that there’s yet to discover so he wants to pick up on those, and he eventually came to appreciate these sorts of books. 
He was going through some recommendations and read through some of them, but one series definitely caught his attention and he spent an entire night trying to catch up to the latest update. He went to the breakfast table with heavy bags in his eyes and a big pout on his face so you ask him what’s wrong. 
He tells you that he found an interesting book series that has all his favorite tropes, but the author went on a sudden hiatus so there weren't any new updates as of recently. Biggest problem is that the chapter was left on a cliffhanger. You let him ramble on with the story until you realized that was one of your works. You were debating if you should admit it or not but maybe it’s best you do. 
You explained that you were actually the author and the work was on pause because of the exchange program. You wrote it in the human realm but because you were taken to Devildom, you couldn’t find the time to continue writing. Levi wasn’t sure if he should believe you were actually the author because no way can this happen to him twice, first it was TSL now it’s this one. 
He asked you several questions about the series like another TSL trivia quiz. His question went from easy basic knowledge to something oddly specific, but since you wrote it then you answered everything perfectly. Levi has that sparkle in his eyes that he usually has when he looks at his idols, except this time it’s with you. 
Levi refuses to hear any major spoiler from you so that his reactions are genuine by the time you update. You’re instantly one of his favorite writers and he won't hesitate to hype up your work on any forum platform. He can talk about how much he loves your writing to the point that you’re motivated to go back to finishing the next chapters. Maybe you could let Levi take a peek to be the first person to read once you’re done.
Satan
It’s always a nice leisure time to just sit in a room with Satan, both of you doing your own thing while discussing books you’ve both read recently. Often though you both do that in his room but since his recent rampage left everything a bigger mess than it already was to begin with, your book discussions were held in your room for the time being until his place gets cleaned up. Barbatos is not going to be happy about it.
You can see how he’s dying to discuss the latest book he’s read so the moment you say he can go first, he’s talking almost to a Levi level kind of excitement. Satan tells you how he recently found a series he’s invested in. The story and pacing are so good that he was hooked on it immediately, recalling all his favorite lines and scenes from it. He talks about the work in high regards and how he hopes the author comes back soon with some updates. 
You don’t know if you should be surprised that Satan has already come across your works considering that most of his days are dedicated to reading. You haven’t told him about this part of your life since he’s read so many good books, you fear it may not be up to match with other great writers so you kept it a secret from him. It's nice to see that Satan is praising your works, unaware that you were the author.  
You left your laptop on one day and Satan didn’t intend to look but accidentally did. He thought it was a homework essay for one of your classes, but he was surprised to see your drafts of the next chapters. Satan wanted to assume you were those fanfic writers that Levi has been talking about, but he does see that it was all aligned to the latest update. Realizing how much  he just talked about your work in front of you made him red from embarrassment, but he’s proud more than anything else. 
He comes clean that he knows your secret while apologizing for taking a peek, but he’s quite ecstatic to be associated with someone as talented as you are. It’s one thing to be a fan of books, it’s another to be writing a good one. If you need a beta reader, he’s always ready to lend his services. He’s a quick reader and he can lend useful advice or proper criticisms. At least he can be useful to you and it’s a bonus to be the first out of everyone to read about it.
Other than being a huge bookworm, Satan is the most knowledgeable among the brothers so if you’re struggling with writing something you don’t know too much about then he’ll help fill in the gaps of your knowledge. If it’s something he’s not familiar with then expect to wake up the next day finding out that Satan spent the night researching it for you so he could answer any question you have. He’d love to help you out in whatever way he can. 
Asmo
Asmo has been whining to the house of purgatory for any ideas because he needs to make some new content for his account because he wants to keep his followers entertained. He’s always doing makeup and skin care reviews because it’s what he does best (and also because he’s sponsored to do so), so Asmo is thinking of what’s something new he can do this time. It’s good to do something new from time to time to shock his fanbase.
Simeon suggests that Asmo should go read a book. At first the demon thought he was being condescending, but given that it’s a suggestion from Simeon then it’s definitely a genuine one. Asmo wanted to turn down the idea, though Simeon adds that he should read books up his alley. Perhaps a romance book should suit his tastes? They’re not too complicated to read and can be entertaining if written well. Being an Avatar of Lust, romance does sound intriguing and Simeon has the perfect book to recommend.
Asmo shocks everyone at the House of Lamentation when he comes home reading a book. It has a pretty cover and talks a tale of lovers, plus it was easy for him to digest since the book isn’t as thick and heavy like the ones that Satan normally likes to read. He seems overjoyed by the book that Simeon suggested to him and it must take a lot for a story to captivate Asmo that he almost forgets his nightly skin care routine.
He’s laying on your lap, swinging his feet with glee as he talks to you about this book he’s been fussing over. The story progressed so nicely between the two lovebirds, and each obstacle is so entertaining that Asmo can’t help but go through the next pages to see what happened. Does it strain the relationship? Do they break up? How will it go from here on then? It’s all too good! One of the best romance books he’s read so far. 
The more he talked about the twists and the plot, the more you realized that he was talking about your book that you published before you even got to Devildom. You ask Asmo how he got his hands on that book since it’s from the human realm, and he tells you that Simeon suggested it. You sighed, of course it was Simeon. He was the only one who knew you wrote books because you told him, though you didn’t expect that he’d suggest it to Asmo of all people.
Eventually you come clean to Asmo that you were the author, and it took a bit of explaining until he would believe you. You showed him your old drafts of when you worked, maybe some pictures of that time when you were storyboarding the book so you could convince him. He’s shocked to see this precious human has quite the talent of writing romance novels, he almost believed that your works were written by cupid himself! His new promotional video is him raving about your books, talking about how his heart skipped a beat and whatnot. The sales spiked that day.
Beel
Beel came home from practice one afternoon and due to the intensive workout, he’s definitely starving for something. He bought some Black Puddle Jelly from Madam Scream’s before he went home because he thought about sharing them with you. Food always tastes better when it’s with you. He would’ve brought Belphie with him, though his twin is still in detention for pulling a prank on Lucifer during class earlier.
He looks for you but before he goes to your room, he spots you by the kitchen instead trying to cook up something. As far as Beel knows, it’s Levi who would be on dinner duties for tonight so he’s wondering what you’re doing in there. The aroma of what you were making is what drew Beel to you, and he asks what you were up to when you spot him behind you, mouth already watering. 
You tell Beel that you’re trying to cook some recipe you found online while making use of the ingredients here in Devildom. It’s the first time you went out to buy every ingredient on your own to experiment, and Beel immediately points out to you which ones would probably be safe to eat and what would be dangerous to add in the dish because some ingredients won’t react well with each other. Even though Beel can most likely eat anything, he wouldn’t want you to accidentally poison yourself. 
Beel watches you type down some notes on your phone and asks if that was for the recipe, though you tell him that you’re writing details. You’re attempting to cook with foreign ingredients because you’re trying to immerse yourself with a character you’re writing in your story. A character that’s trying to discover some new recipes with things they’ve never seen before.
You’re thankful for Beel’s advice about the ingredients earlier, it helped you gain some more insight and inspiration on what to do for the next chapters. You’re already imagining the culinary endeavors your character will go through while you’re chopping the mandrakes you got. The demon is happy to help and all Beel asks is that you feed him whatever you’re making when you’re done, since he likes your cooking after all. He sits by the island counter, chewing on the Black Puddle Pudding while he listens to you discuss your book with him. 
Beel eventually walks up to you one day and admits that he tried to read your works. Your culinary adventure storyline is fantastic, but when it starts to describe all the delicious food that the character makes, Beel’s hunger starts to spike that he almost ate the page. There’s just something about the way you discuss the food that makes it sound so appetizing to him, he almost wants to recreate it with you. When you offer to read it with him while he eats some snacks, he has this happy smile on his face as he nods. 
Belphie
Belphie just got back from RAD, stretching his limbs a bit and yawning as he opens the door. He just came back from detention for pulling pranks, and all he wants to do is to just fall asleep right now. He wanted to invite Beel for a nap but his twin is still in practice so he’s not available. You were the next person he had in mind, so he went out searching for you around the house.
He finds you by the planetarium, and he was ready to invite you to sleep but he sees that your focus has been going back and forth between your notes and the stars in the sky. Since Devildom always has an endless night time, you’re able to study the constellations as freely as you want. There’s no need for you to wait for the sun to set like you had to back in the human realm. There are books about Devildom stars scattered around you, ones you’ve borrowed from the library or from Satan’s collection so you can study them better.
He sits down next to you, resting his head over your shoulder and asking if you’re trying to memorize the constellations. You explain that you’re trying to get inspiration and notes for something you’re writing, a short fairy tale that’s dedicated to the stars this time. You’ve written fairy tales before you got here, and you want to make something inspired from Devildom stars. The constellations they have here are way different from what you normally see in the human realm, so you’re sure that the stories behind them are different as well. 
A fairy tale about stars? Written by one of the people he cares about the most? Belphie is definitely interested in hearing more about it. He doesn’t try to tease you or anything about the fact you’re writing stories, he’s even willing to offer to help you by telling you everything he knows about the stars and the stories behind each constellation that he can remember at the top of his head in hopes that may spark more inspirations. Satan may know a lot of things, but Belphie is passionate about stars and you can feel it from the way he talks. 
Belphie is incredibly drowsy the next day since he spent the night talking about your writing and helping you with it. He can’t help it when it’s about stars, and Belphie loves the way your eyes light up whenever you get an idea that you can put in. To him, it almost shines like the stars you’re writing about. He may have a vague idea of your story based on yesterday’s conversation, but he’s excited to read the final outcome. He’s seen glimpses of your works when you showed him your notes, it would definitely be worth the wait.
You invited him back to the planetarium because you want to show him your draft underneath all the stars. Even when he’s tired, he shows up and lays next to you to rest with all these pillows. The only favor he asked was that you read the fairytale for him while he rests, he promises he’ll try not to fall asleep. You read the story to him, occasionally checking if he’s still awake or not. Whenever you stopped, he would squeeze your hand and despite having his eyes closed, he would tell you to continue with such a groggy voice. He manages to at least hear the rest of it before falling asleep with a smile on his face.
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winterchestnut · 5 days ago
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My opinion of you based on your main love interest, From a Rafayel main and former Xavier main.
Xavier mains: Tired of everyone's bullshit, but in a chill way. Unbothered. Not a single fuck given, until it's serious. Hence why I've rarely met any Xavier mains. I've only met one toxic Xavier main, and she acted like a bratty teenage girl, so.... do with that info as you wish.
Zayne mains: Unproblematic Queens. I don't hear anything bad about you. May you win all your 5 star Zayne cards and R3 them. Unthreatening, but ALL OF YOU come in clutch when it matters. I saw the results of that latest Weibo poll. Everyone thought Zayne would place like 3rd among the LaDS guys, not paying attention to other game characters, but his 1st place crown was deserved.
Rafayel mains: I'm new to this school of fish, but supposedly we're the toxic ones? Idk. Honestly, the only thing I've observed from Rafayel mains is that they encourage people to read the lore more, which seems reasonable to me. 🤷‍♂️ But if your delivery and tone are off, obviously, your message isn't going to get through, sis. And that's something you should take accountability for if you genuinely want to defend Rafayel.
Sylus mains: Toxic. 🙅‍♂️🙅‍♀️🙅‍♂️🙅 It feels like you guys want to gatekeep him so bad that you just despise new players. I am one of the said new players who have been the target of your ire. Rafayel's story branch is actually the one that got me to download the game.
Future Caleb Mains: Surprisingly, I haven't heard anything bad about your group other than, "Ew, they ship incest. 🤮" And honestly, I don't care. Pixels, they're just pixels. So, have fun with your game. On top of that, congratulations. 🥂
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