#you wouldn’t leash an Angel

[wormimancer]

Pose

[gay-dorito-dust]

Imagine going on adventures with Logan and Deadpool and you’re the voice of reason behind them 😆 Deapool the idiot with hot headed Wolverine that reader has to keep in check all the time

It’s not easy being the only person with common sense in this rag tag trio of yours.

^^ this is literally you babysitting two grown ass men that need to be kept on leashes and separated from one another in case they fight, again.

You are overworked and underpaid to be dealing with this shit, but there was no one else who had the patience for Wade nor the compassion and empathy for Logan as you did.

So unfortunately you were stuck with them for every mission given but despite how vastly different and incompatible some of you were -*cough* Logan and Wade *cough*- you three worked well enough together that you were a force to be reckoned with.

You were forced to face situations where wade would be pissing Logan off to the point his claws were out, and you had to pat the rugged man on his shoulder, wait for him to look at you as you pointed towards his claws;

‘Them. Away. Now.’ -you.

Wolverine: *grunts*

You: don’t give me attitude, put. them. away. Now.

Wade: ohhh Logan’s in trouble!

You would then look at Wade before pointing at him like a disappointed parent: and you, stop pissing him off if you like to keep your dick where it is! Or so help god me I’ll cut it off myself!

Wade: 😶

Wolverine: *smirks and puts the claws away*

You were their voice of reason, their angel on their shoulder, their peace keeper and confidant and they respect you for keeping up with their shit. However it wouldn’t be much like Logan and Wade to make your life easy as you often had to stand between the two as a barrier of sorts to keep them from killing each other.

When in actuality they are flipping each other off behind your back and it wasn’t until Logan slapped wades hand away, causing him to say ‘ow’ did you look between the two of them as they acted like they weren’t acting like children a few moments ago.

You: I’m so sorry you’ll have to excuse them.

*Meanwhile Wade and Logan fighting, stabbing each other in the balls in the background*

You: WOULD YOU TWO STOP FUCKING FIGHTING FOR FIVE MINUTES!!!

Wade and Logan; *immediately stop and point at each other* he started it!

They were the reason you had grey hairs at an early age you swore this to anyone who’d listen. They were a pain in your ass, thorn in your side and a headache waiting to happen but the moment you were threatened, Wade and Logan put aside their differences and acted accordingly by standing protectively in front of you.

Logan: I would shut the fuck up if I were you bub.

Wade: oh look what you did, you made daddy angry.

Logan and you looking at Wade: 🤨😐

You: can you not make everything into a sex joke?

Wade, booping you on the nose; it comes with the territory peanut.

Logan: be serious for fucking once, they’ve just got threatened!

Wade: you don’t think I want our pookie to get hurt? (why do I think he’d say pookie unironically)

You: kill me now and end my misery. Please someone, anyone. Preferably pyro. (He’s hot, literally and figuratively)

Being stuck with Logan and wolverine is a curse and a blessing at the same time, which one you want to focus on more is up to you. However you three were incredibly loyal to each other, even if you do piss each other off from time to time, but you’d never betray one another for it wasn’t an option.

You were stuck with these two whether you liked it or not.

[beloveds-embrace]

The “Shared wife” trope and you’re John Price’s darling little housewife. The light of his life. His precious angel. The home he keeps in his house.

You are truly the best thing that has happened to him; all soft smiles and sweet words, a warm embrace he can melt to and shed all of the sharp edges he must bear whenever he’s deployed and carries the weight of the world across his shoulders.

The same world outside your little home was a cruel one, one where John had made more enemies than he cared to count. Each mission, each order barked into a comms unit, and each bullet fired carried a price- one that weighed on him more heavily than the tactical vest he wore.

But there was you, and he’d do it all again if it means having you safe and sound.

His darling. His beloved. The soft warmth of your hands, the sweetness of your smile. You were his sanctuary, his reprieve from the shadows of his work. And because of that, he could not- would not- allow anything to take you from him.

It wasn’t just him anymore, though. They were always there, watching. Protecting- for you belonged to John, and so did they, but you weren’t sharpened like them and you didn’t have to be; they’d be sharp enough for you, too. Guard dogs, their leashes held by John.

Especially when John tugged on those leashes and had them stay with you while he was away on a different mission. As if he’d ever leave you alone, all by your lonesome.

Kyle was the easiest to adjust, his role almost seamless. He lingered in the background, watchful but not intrusive and never forceful in joining your space, his easy charm disarming to anyone who might venture too close. He’d follow John’s orders without hesitation, his voice steady over the phone and comms after Price sent him to patrol the property’s edges.

“It’s quiet out here,” he’d murmur, voice a low hum in the radio. “No sign of trouble. As it should be.”

Soap, of course, tugged harder on the leash. He had energy to spare, bounding about the property like an overzealous hound. But it wasn’t just his sharp instincts that made him invaluable; it was his ability to diffuse tension with a grin and a joke, to make you feel like the safest person in the world, and coax you back inside while distracting you from whatever lingered outside.

It shouldn’t be for you to worry. All you needed to do was stay your lovely, content self, curled up all warm and cozy in your favorite spots like a particularly cherished kitten.

“Dinnae worry, lass,” he’d say as he hefted a bag of groceries from your car, muscles flexing under his shirt. “Nothin’ gets past us. We’re like the bloody Buckingham Palace guards- but more handsome. What are you making for lunch? How about I show you a family recipe, eh?”

And then there was Simon.

Ghost was quiet, his presence as much a shadow as his name suggested. But you always knew when he was near, the subtle shift in the air around you as his dark eyes followed your every move. He was the one who lingered just a little longer after everyone else had gone to bed, his massive frame nearly invisible against the darkened walls and only showing himself just so you wouldn’t get frightened.

“You don’t have to do that.” You’d tell him softly, catching sight of him through the kitchen window as he circled the house, even though you were so sure John was overreacting and these men needed to calm down. “Si, please. It’s cold tonight, too.”

But he would only shake his head, low and unyielding. “It’s my job to keep you safe. Don’t worry about me. Let’s get you back inside, Price’ll have my head if you catch a cold.”

And John truly kept them in line, orders sharp and precise. It was a dynamic they understood instinctively, honed from years of serving under him. He was their captain, their leader, their handler, and when it came to you, his commands were absolute.

But you were the one who softened them.

It started small: a hand on Kyle’s shoulder when he seemed tense, massaging the knots out, a gentle laugh at one of Soap’s outrageous jokes with his hand on your lower back, a quiet “thank you” murmured to Ghost as he handed you something you hadn’t even asked for yet ended up needing. They responded to you as if they were attuned to you, sharp edges dulling in your presence until they were handing you the leashes themselves.

Soap once joked about it- how they were like a pack of loyal dogs, their ears pricking up whenever you entered the room.

“You’ve got us all wrapped around your little finger, love,” he’d teased, earning a gruff “Shut it, MacTavish” from Price. Because they stayed, even when John returned. Because they belonged.

But it was true.

They followed John’s orders without question, but when you asked something of them, it wasn’t obedience- it was devotion. Ask them for the world, and they will drag it to your doorstep bleeding and heaving. Ask them for the sun, and they will tear it out of the sky to present it to you on burnt palms.

“Simon, will you check the garden gate for me? I think the latch is loose again.” You’d say, and he’d rise without hesitation, broad shoulders brushing the doorway as he left. And then he’d return, and patiently wait until you’d kiss his cheek.

“Kyle, do you mind grabbing the mail? It’s pouring out there.”

“Anything for you, darling.” Gaz would reply, already pulling on his jacket, and when he’d return he’d make sure you wouldn’t get wet while he leaned down and stole a kiss on your forehead.

“Johnny, help me with this jar, will you?”

“Aye, lass, but only if you kiss me.” Soap would tease, though he’d already have the jar in hand, his grin softening when you rolled your eyes. Still, he’d obediently lower his head for you to peck.

And John watched it all with quiet pride. They were his men, and he trusted them with his life. Now, he trusted them with yours. Because they were his, and you were his, and all of you should have been together from the start anyways.

You were worth protecting. Worth loving. Worth the world itself, because you were one and the same to them.

The first time you teased him about it- about how he seemed to have the entire Task Force at his beck and call- he simply pulled you into his arms and kissed you until you were clinging to his shoulders, breathless and warm.

“They’d do anything for you,” he murmured against your hair, then. “Same as me. You’re ours to protect.”

It was possessive, yes, but not in a way that stifled you, not like shackles that bound you to a prison. It wasn’t a cage; it was a fortress, each of them a stone in the walls that kept you safe.

And you, their sweet, lovely little wife, were the center of it all. Safe, cherished, and loved beyond measure.

[delusionsofgrandeur13]

pt. 2

you just saw your ex boyfriend, dick grayson, for the first time since he broke up with you.

you ran into him on the street.

no, like, literally ran into him.

you were walking your mom’s dog for her, a german shepherd she got when you moved out. she’d aptly named him trouble. despite his name, trouble was usually a mellow guy, even if he was huge. walking him was just another thing you were doing to try and ignore the thoughts constantly pounding out a beat in your head.

oh, dick would think this is funny! that’s dick’s favorite color, i should buy it! dick and i should go there on our next date!

and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on and-

anyways, you were definitely trying to keep yourself busy.

any time a memory popped up in your brain of him—

laughing at your jokes, holding you close while you fell asleep, kissing your neck while he thrust into you

—you’d empty the dishwasher, paint your nails, (any color but blue) turn on reality tv, read a book, stuff your face, whatever.

anything to stop fucking thinking about him and his stupid blue eyes and his dumb smile.

you’d been been watching the news, sprawled across the couch. just the regular gotham news: don’t use main street, mr. freeze’s ray iced out the pavement. the iceberg lounge had been raided by the police for the third time this month. the justice league defeated yet another extraterrestrial threat to humanity, blah, blah, blah. you weren’t really watching. the news program ended, and the next one started. a gotham gossip show. they were doing a special segment on the wayne family.

of course they fucking were. even your tv was conspiring against you. you had to resist the urge to chuck the remote at it.

you turned it off instead, heading to your room to get ready for a run.

(running for exercise or running from your thoughts?)

your mom had asked you to take trouble right before you’d walked out the door, and so you grabbed him and his leash and headed out. you’d forgotten the bags for his poop, but you didn’t think you would be out that long, so you just kept on going.

you were wearing the leggings dick had bought you, ones he joked should be a specific blue color. you hadn’t understood then, but you more than understood now. it was warmer, and so you just had on an old sports bra on top, and some converse.

you were not the athletic type. that was dick. probably still was. you wouldn’t really know.

you hadn’t talked since it happened, like three or four weeks ago.

time had become a little fuzzy. your mom said you could stay with her as long as you needed, but you were starting to get the itch to move out.

nothing against your mom, it’s just hard to sob really loudly into a pint of ice cream when she’s there.

and she keeps trying to wash the one shirt of dick’s you still have. you know, fully well, how dumb it is, (and a little gross) but you’re still wearing his shirt every night to bed. and maybe it’s all in your head, but it still smells like him. you aren’t ready to wash it. besides, now that you’re sleeping by yourself, you’re pretty sure it’s helping you fall asleep. something that was hard to do the first few nights without your big warm boyfriend next to you in bed.

it probably isn’t good for you, to keep wearing his shirt.

you’d had your hand between your thighs more than once late at night thinking about being enveloped in his scent. your nights were haunted with thoughts of his body over yours, his phantom voice in your ear. calling you angel, asking you if this was heaven, like the last time you’d had sex.

it definitely isn’t good for you.

but neither is life without dick grayson.

you try not to dwell on the fact that dick had given you a sort of non-reason for the breakup. sure, it got lonely sometimes, or you got anxious for your masked boyfriend, so you cried. so what if your patience wore thin after a few too many “i’m sorry, angel, i can’t make it this time”-s.

you were human!

but you’d never, never once complained about his absence or his commitments to his family.

never.

he’d just assumed you were silently suffering and it really irked you if you thought about it for too long. you still weren’t sure if you were mad at him or sad, or whatever. it felt like your brain couldn’t decide on an emotion so you just got twelve at once. but what you did know for sure was that he was 110% worth it to you. you just wish he’d realize that. see that. instead of just the times you were a little emotionally strung out. your ex boyfriend was too willing to sacrifice his own mental health for the sake of yours and you were sick of it. but you didn’t know if you had the courage to say that to him. or even see him, after the way this breakup had hit you.

your friends had managed to get you out of the house, a few times now.

you’d gotten almost too drunk every time, escaping your friends and going outside to get some air. this time, you saw a guy that looked just enough like dick, and it’d all been too much. so you got out of there. you sat yourself down on the curb, looking up at the hazy rooftops. you were always looking up. always.

and since the break up, you’d noticed the vigilantes of your city more often. maybe there was more criminal activity. maybe you were just paying more attention than you used to.

you’d seen spoiler and orphan, pounding the pavement behind you to run after some seedy looking guy holding a briefcase. you think spoiler tried to high five you on the way past, but there was no way. you wrote it off as your memory embellishing things.

you were pretty sure red hood had nodded at you before disappearing down a fire escape on the other side of the building.

your mom had recently gotten a delivery of security cameras for her house. but she hadn’t ordered them. the shipping address had only the address of some warehouse on the dock, the name just, ‘R.R.’ you’d set the cameras up, but you and your mom both were still baffled about it.

and here, sitting on the curb, you were staring at what looked like a dark figure crouched on the rooftop opposite. they’d been there when you’d entered the club, too.

you squinted, trying to make out shoulders and suit colors, when they stood up, and the light bounced off his shiny cowl.

fucking batman?

you shook your head, trying to shake your drunk brain like an etch-a-sketch. there was actually no way.

a smaller figure, one you hadn’t seen behind the shape of batman (!?) pulled a weapon, a gleaming silver sword, and pointed it at you. your head spun. batman (there was no way) shook his head at robin. he sheathed his sword, throwing his hands up in what looked like annoyance. you blinked, and they were gone.

you weren’t really sure if it had happened or not. you’d been trying not to think too hard about the fact that you still hadn’t seen nightwing. you’d really been trying.

so instead, you were walking your mom’s dog.

trouble had, in fact, pooped, and you were frantically looking around for something to pick it up with. gotham was already shitty enough without the addition of, well, literal shit. the streets were busy, but not crowded, and someone down the block whistled for a cab, catching your attention. you turned, and at the same time, trouble jerked your arm, pulling you backwards into someone walking on the sidewalk. the stranger made a choked sound.

“trouble??”

your heart stopped. you held your breath, turning around.

trouble was at attention, looking up at your ex-boyfriend with his head cocked.

dick’s eyes were wide. his hair shorter than you remember. he leaned down to scratch trouble behind the ears, his biceps and shoulder muscles in hard relief. are you dreaming? you didn’t recognize the shirt he had on, but he was wearing your favorite jeans of his, and his matching converse. your mouth felt like a desert.

trouble trails around the two of you, the leash long. he loves your ex-boyfriend, you know he won’t go anywhere.

“did you cut your hair?” you take a step forward. dick does too.

“i-” he clears his throat. “i did. do you like it?” he shifts his eyes, his cheeks bright pink.

you make a show of looking it over. he turns his head so you can see it from all angles. like he always did when he got a haircut.

your chest hurts.

you nod approvingly, flashing him a weak smile.

“it looks really nice. you’re very-” your face heats as you stop yourself. “it looks very handsome.”

that’s an understatement. you would’ve climbed him like a tree the minute he’d come home looking like that. the way his biceps were bulging out of his shirt sleeves could not be good for his circulation. it was great for yours, your heart was beating a mile a minute.

dick smiles down at you, stepping forward again.

“thanks.” he looks down, taking in your outfit. “nice leggings, ang-” he’s cut off when trouble spots a squirrel and darts, barking wildly. the problem is, trouble had been walking his leashed self around you and dick.

you’re now chest to chest with your ex boyfriend in the middle of a sidewalk, tied to him by rope. you vaguely hear trouble whine at the way his collar bit into his neck from the leash pulling taut. you didn’t even have the time to process the fact that he had almost called you angel. which was probably a good thing.

you’re breathing heavily, while dick doesn’t seem to be breathing at all.

he’s put his arms around you on instinct, and you hate the way you feel like you’re home. a shiver runs up your spine at the sudden closeness, and dick peers down at you through half-lids. your mouth dries up again. you suddenly feel indignant.

“you are not allowed to breakup with me and then show up and look at me like that!” you hiss at him.

you would throw up your hands in exasperation if they weren’t basically pinned to dick’s body. a smile breaks across his face, his bright blue eyes telling you everything you need to know. he stares at you, studying you. you wonder if he can feel how hard your heart is beating.

“alfred taught me a new recipe.” he blurts, his hand clutching at your back.

he’s adorable. but you school your face and raise an eyebrow at him.

“..oookay?”

dick blushes, his face sheepish. “i could make it for you, if you wanted.”

“what i want is an apology.” you look him up and down.

your ex boyfriend grimaces, squeezing his eyes shut. “understandable.”

“on your hands and knees. i think this is one of those begging-for-my-forgiveness type situations, don’t you think?”

dick nods, a strand of hair falling across his forehead. his eyes flash.

“you don’t have to worry about getting me on my knees.”

one heartbeat pounds behind your ribs, the other one between your legs. you huff out a weird sort of nervous laugh.

“oh, i’m not joking.” his lips curve up in a smile, one you know very well. he obviously plans to make up on lost time.

you forgot how charming he was. you have to practically force yourself to breathe. you’d do anything to have the real thing over his old t-shirt. you give yourself a mental shake.

he can flirt all he wants, but what about your heart? you look up at him, and his face softens, his pupils huge.

“can you get us untangled?”

dick nods, whistling for trouble. he frees an arm and grabs trouble’s collar, guiding him back around so the leash falls to the sidewalk. you step back, taking a deep breath. you’re cold at the sudden loss of his body heat. it’s a harsh reminder of reality. you grab trouble’s leash, having him sit. you look at your ex boyfriend.

“thanks.” you take another deep breath. “can you promise me something, though?”

he nods, his face serious. “anything. anything at all.”

“promise you won’t break my heart again?” you hold out your pinky finger.

dick coughs, surprised at your words. he looks down, taking a shaky breath. he’s in disbelief, he’s ecstatic, he’s on top of the world, he…has a lot of apologizing to do.

when he looks back up to offer up his own pinky, his eyes are shining. the sight makes your heart melt. you take his finger in yours, beaming up at him.

he gives you a soft smile in return. “i promise.”

you take your hand back, feeling the most hopeful you have in a month.

a breeze picks up, and the whiff you get reminds you of your earlier predicament. you look down. dick looks down too.

shit. literally.

you forgot about the fact that trouble had used the sidewalk as a toilet.

“is that trouble’s?” he asks.

you nod, making a face. “i forgot the poop bags.”

“rookie mistake.” dick shakes his head, smiling. you look him up and down, and then turn, walking back the way you came.

“text me about that recipe!” you lift your hand in a wave.

“but-..uh, the shit?” he calls after you.

“that’s alllll you, baby!” you yell back, practically skipping away. you feel like you’re floating.

[bella-goths-wife]

So if Alastor made a deal with Vs pet before going missing for 7 years how would she be at the hotel?

What would have happened if alastor made a deal with Vs pet before leaving

Warnings: obsession, bad foreshadowing, violence?

In all honestly, if alastor had ran into you again before disappearing he would have made a deal with you

You intrigued him in a way that he hadn’t felt in years, the familiarity he felt towards you almost made him nostalgic

But let’s say he did offer you a deal on the day you met

It would be something similar to your deal with vox, your soul in exchange for food, water, shelter and protection

He’d give you a small cottage away from the city and close to the cannibal colonies, somewhere where you could live without the worry of being hurt or killed

Your fridge would always be stocked with food every week and you had all the things you could need in the cottage with you

Now you expected there to be a huge workload after you found out what a prominent demon alastor was, but all you had to really do was be his assistant and help him with his broadcasts

You were his assistant for a few weeks before he disappeared and suddenly you were alone again

You were still taken care of in the essential ways, your always had food and water in your little cottage and Rosie checked up on the cottage once a week to make sure you were still alive and safe

But you were lonely, so you started to help out Rosie in the cannibal colony every now and again

And you continued like that for seven years, until alastor finally returned

Rosie had let you know about his return and warned you that he would call on you soon and not to ask him to many questions

It was whiplash for you, one minute you were making some tea in the kitchen and the next you were standing in the hotel lobby with a look of shock

Alastor introduced you to everyone and informed you that you’d be staying at the hotel with him to help Charlie with her vision

You were mainly there to help alastor and be his entertainment, but you did help nifty with chores and even cooked meals for everyone

Charlie was ecstatic to have a younger soul with them and claimed that you’d be perfect for redemption

Her girlfriend, vaggie, on the other hand was extremely cautious around you since you were associated with alastor

Husk knew of you from whispers from some of the other souls alastor owned

At first he pitied you since he knew what it was like to be leashed by alastor, and then he saw how much alastor favoured you and treated you much nicer than he treated any of his other souls

Husk couldn’t help but feel bitter of the fact that he was in a much worse situation than you, but he eventually grew to like you since he understood you were practically a kid compared to him and he wouldn’t wish his fate on anyone

You and angel wouldn’t be as close as you were if you were the Vs pet, but you’d both still be friends

Alastor wouldn’t be fond of sharing you with the rest of the hotel since you were there to be his entertainment, but when he made comments about it and gave you an unnecessary workload he got a very harsh scolding from Rosie

I believe that alastor would become like a mentor to you, almost fatherly but not too much

It’s canon that alastor would be a terrible father but a great mentor so I could see him teaching you how to use your power to its full extent and he’d like combining your powers together

I like to imagine that when you and alastor combine your abilities then it would start off as a 1920s jazz music sound and would contain techno beats when you join in

Your relationship with alastor would be almost parallel to yours and vox if you were the Vs pet

It would be less cruel and you’d be much happier, but there would still be a hint of obsession in the relationship

Alastor would definitely be somewhat possessive of you in a certain way, the same way a male deer is protective of its children

He’d like getting to know you and finding out what the connection was between you to

The Vs would absolutely despise you since you were associated with alastor and the first time they met you was through one of Vox and alastors fights

So overall I think you’d be much happier and safer with alastor but that doesn’t exclude you from still feeling like a pet

But at least with this path, you’d have a chance at redemption for you

That’s if alastor didn’t drag you back from the pearly gates by a leash

———————————————————————

“And this little dear is my darling assistant” is the first thing you hear as your pulled from the shadows, you could recognise that voice anywhere.

One minute you were stood in your lovely kitchen and now your stood trying to take in what seems to be a hotel.

You try and hide your surprise as you turn to find your owners crazed grin staring down at you.

“What am I doing here alastor?” You question with a confused tone. You know you shouldn’t question him, Rosie had warned you against it, but you couldn’t help your curiosity “where have you been?”

Alastors eye twitches in what seems to be irritation as he stares down at you, you could see a cat demon behind alastor wince in what looked like fear before alastor wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

“Nevermind that, my little doe” alastor says with an over exaggerated laugh “I’ve brought you here because Charlie here has an idea to redeem demons, truly laughable I know but I’ve taken it upon myself to help her achieve this pipe dream”

Alastor laughed with radio static as a background before turning you to look at him once again.

“And I knew I wouldn’t be able to do it without my dearest little fawn” alastor said with a grin as his claws pinched your cheek in what could be seen as threatening or playful, you gave up guessing a long time ago “so from now on you’ll be staying here and helping me with this hotel, okay dear?”

You simply nodded at his question, knowing you had no grounds to refuse your owner. You had to play the loyal pet once again.

“Perfect” alastor said with pep in his tone as he let go of you and face you in the direction of the bar “now run along and get to know the others while I talk with Charlie about your rooming arrangements, I’ll call you back when I need you”

You nodded as you begin walking to the bar and you take a seat next to an extremely tall spider man who eyes you with curiosity. You’re in front of the cat demon from earlier who also regards you with intrigue.

“Hi” you say almost shyly as your ears remain pinned against your head, you hadn’t talked to someone other than Rosie or alastor since you made your deal and this entire experience was outside your comfort zone.

“Heya toots” the spider demon spoke unsurely as he looked down at you “where’s smiles been keepin’ you then?”

“Hm?” You make a questioning sound as your head tilts in a confused manner

“He means he’s not seen you around, no one has” the cat demon clarifies with a gruff tone “it’s weird for alastor not to cash in on a favour from his souls, angel here wants to know where alastors been keepin’ you”

“Oh” you say with a confused look “I don’t think he’s kept me hidden exactly”

“Well I only heard about you through whispers, but I assumed it was just rumours” husk responds gruffly “no one knew alastor had an assistant until a few days ago when he mentioned bringing you here”

“Didn’t think smiles had it in him” the spider, angel, comments before looking you up and down “your a bit young for him though, don’t ya think husk”

Husk nods cautiously as he takes in your appearance, you couldn’t have been been more than eighteen.

“It’s not like that” you assure with a mildly disturbed face at the thought of the insinuation

“Than what are you to smiles toots?” Angel asked curiously “because he certainly seemed fond of you”

You think for a moment on how to explain your connection with alastor before speaking cautiously

“Well, I’m his-“ you were about to answer but alastors call interrupted you.

“My dear” alastor called for you “don’t you think it’s time you and I set up for a broadcast”

You nod as you abandon the two demons to walk beside alastor on his way to his radio station, like a loyal mutt being called back into the house.

“I think it’s time I show that pesky TV that radio still lives” alastor comments as he puts his hand on your shoulder and guides you “and with my perfect little assistant, I’m sure my broadcast will be as great as ever”

[ilovejoostklein]

can I requestt some soft morning sex with Joost and it being just rlly sweet and cosy and like reade and joost have been together for a while now and some praise maybe if you're comfortable w that ofc 🥹

this was really fun to write, i hope you get the cozy vibe <3

-

Morning Embrace

You and Joost have been together for years and have an intimate morning routine

nsfw: smut, some fluff

-

You always hated when Joost had to leave, looking up at him through a half-lidded gaze your mind tended to wander to things that made you feel bad in this moment, as if it was a way to mend your sadness. 

He held your hands as you felt his cock resting on your lower stomach, teasing you, looking up at his face you saw how tired, yet desperate he was. It was like a dream, the weight of sleep making you lazy, your motions slow and fluid, but everything felt so much more intense. 

The sunlight made the room and Joost looks heavenly. You’d been in love with him for what felt like a lifetime. Joost was an angelic man, his features as if they were carved by Renaissance artists, the most beautiful and dedicated expression of the human form. You could look up at him forever, and when he was like this especially. His flushed cheeks, and parted red lips showered you with so much praise it felt poetic.

He’d repeat over and over again how perfect you were. You always laughed it off when his friends said you had him on a leash, but moments like these proved to you that he loved and cherished you to a level you could hardly fathom. As he pushed himself inside of you, his face contorted into pleasure, crying out how much he loved you, how good you felt, how good you made him feel. 

“I love you so much,” His voice was pathetic, kissing your neck desperately as he tried to find a good pace that wouldn’t be affected by his lack of energy. “You’re so fucking perfect, I’d die for you—fuck.”

“I love you, Joost.” You responded with a yawn, the sensation so perfect it relaxed you. 

You wrapped your legs around him, feeling the warm, heavy comforter weighing you down. He slept naked so he was always cold, and fucked you with the blanket over his waist. He couldn’t ever take you from behind or any other position besides missionary unless he was drunk or just had an inclination to be rougher, which was rare. His obsession with you was bordering unhealthy. He couldn’t get off unless he could see your face, he’d never loved anyone the way he loved you. 

“You’re so beautiful, mijn liefde.” He moved the hair out of your face lovingly, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I could fuck you forever.” He whispered into your ear. 

You smiled in response, “Me too.” You kissed his cheek back in return. “Love you.” 

Joost never overwhelmed you, he never pushed you beyond your limits. Even if he knew your body like the back of his hand, knowing exactly how to make a mess of you, he was incredibly gentle. Making love to him in the morning was better than anything you’d ever experienced, the feeling of waking up next to the person you loved and being able to feel so good all the time was indescribable. You pitied people who weren’t so lucky. 

Joost knew you too well, the sounds you made were controlled and soft he wasn’t fucking you as well as he could. You felt him readjust slightly, the realization making your cheeks burn and waking you up a bit. You felt him plunge into you with one quick, deep motion slamming into the most sensitive spot inside of you. You had gotten your karma for thinking he sounded pathetic, crying out in pleasure and begging for him to keep going. 

“Please, Joost.” You pleaded, unable to open your eyes from how overwhelmed you’d become “Feels so good.”

You heard him laugh, satisfied with how your body had sure denied himself to him. The look on your face was driving him mad, his pace deepened and became harsher. The feeling made you lose all train of thought, your body becoming a vessel to feel pleasure alone, shutting your eyes to take it all in. It sends a numbing feeling through you, you could do nothing but moan his name to encourage him. 

“Can I stop?” He asked suddenly, the sight of your blissful expression and the way your chest moved had driven him to the point of insanity. 

“What?” He’d never seen you look so confused and offended, it was cute. “No, please,” You thought he would leave you early, the realization crushing you. 

“I need to eat your pussy.” His directness made you hesitate for a moment, but god it was flattering. 

Joost felt his pleasure and excitement burn out once he realized he’d be getting off before you. It was difficult to make you finish by just fucking you alone, especially if he knew your body was as tired and sensitive as it was now. Besides, there was nothing he loved more than going down on you. 

He pulled out slowly, going under the covers he pushed your legs open and didn’t waste any time with foreplay. He was greedy and impatient, he hardly bothered with kissing your thighs and your stomach. As much as he liked to tease you, it was always more torturous for him. He couldn’t stand to deny himself, and he knew you could go without it. 

His tongue was so warm against you. You shivered at the initial feeling, the beginning is always just as good as the end. You let him spread your legs so that your knees nearly touched your chest. His tongue was flat against your pussy, completely devouring you as he focused on your clit determined to help bring you to your climax, instead of making you beg for it. All this time spent apart, you’d forgotten how passionate your boyfriend was. 

You felt selfish. Joost was perfect, you didn’t remember a time when he couldn’t make you finish, but even more selflessly you didn’t remember a time when he wanted to finish before you. Somehow it would spoil his mood if he didn’t take care of you first, even if you begged for him to fuck you or to let you give him head, he refused.

You felt yourself grinding down desperately on Joost’s face. You were chasing your orgasm in vain, trying to rush the natural process it only made you increasingly frustrated and needy. Joost noticed quickly, as always he knew you too well, and he hated to feel like he wasn’t giving you enough. 

“You wanna cum baby?” Joost’s voice was raspy, and still a bit groggy, the sound of it turned you on more than it should’ve. “Tell me, my beautiful girl.”

You hummed, “Mhm.” Just as desperately as he expected.

You heard him chuckle from under the sheets, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “I’ll help you, don’t worry mijn lieveling.”

You felt his fingers begin to rub against you, it was like he could read your mind and knew how much you were thinking about him fucking you again. His touch was teasing at first, experimenting with what made you feel good, realizing quickly from the way you tried to move against him, that you just needed to be filled up again. You didn’t realize how wet you were until he pushed two fingers inside of you, from the way you took them so well. 

His soft lips pressed down on your clit as his fingers pumped inside of you at a steady pace, he was giving you exactly what you needed. He loved the sounds you made, how every time his fingers nudged into the most sensitive spot inside you, he heard you moan or curse under your breath. It didn’t help him that you still sounded so tired, the rasp in your voice and how you lazily and gently tugged his hair. 

When he felt your grip on his hair suddenly tighten, and you suddenly gasped and then fell silent for a moment he knew you were close. Being together so long, he knew how to make you finish rather quickly if he wanted to. His jaw didn’t have time to start aching like it did in the very beginning when you two were still learning about each other. Whenever he felt like he missed it, the look on your face and the way you’d praise him completely drowned out those memories. 

“You’re so fucking good.” Your voice was so weak it was almost silent, still in a bit of a daze from feeling so sensitive and vulnerable. 

Joost finally sat up, smoothing down his hair and looking down at you. He was overwhelmed with your beauty. As much as he was excited to spend the night with you after his concert and seeing you all dressed up, he couldn’t help but think seeing you naked and glowing in his bed was the most beautiful you could ever look. 

As he positioned himself on top of you again, the way you looked up at him with so much adoration and desire made his heart squeeze. He smoothed down his thumb against your cheek before leaning down to kiss you sweetly as he lined himself up with his other hand. 

You’d never quite gotten used to his size, the stretch was always a bit uncomfortable but Joost was overly cautious. Whenever you needed him this desperately, the way he’d push into you so slowly almost felt cruel. You huffed in frustration, wrapping your legs around him to encourage him to be quicker. 

“Relax.” He urged, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“It’s not.” You felt him thrust suddenly, instinctively wincing and proving his point.

Joost tsked, “I told you.” You heard a hint of satisfaction in his tone, “I know you can take it, just stay still my love.”

You sighed in defeat, listening to him you soon felt him bottom you out again, giving you a moment to adjust. He started thrusting slowly, his pace as excruciating as before you couldn’t stand it. 

Joost paused for a moment, leaning down again he lowered his elbows so that he was directly on top of you, chests pressing together. 

“I love you,” He whispered into your ear, pressing a kiss into your chin. “I love fucking you like this.”

“I love you too.” You mumbled so he’d get the affirmation, no matter how long you’d been together he had to hear it. 

“You’re so perfect.” He whispered again, “I can’t believe I have you.”

It was slow, deep, everything perfect about being so desperate to fuck each other the moment you two woke up. He held you in his arms, the sunlight now drowned out the room and warmed your exposed skin. The blanket was still so warm and cozy, keeping you two even closer together. 

You brought him into an embrace as his face was nuzzled in your neck, whispering praises and kissing you. You couldn’t imagine anything better than this. You tried to tell him you loved him for what felt like the hundredth time, but you were too overcome with how good he made you feel. It was as if your bodies were made exactly for one another. 

“I’m close.” Joost mumbled, “Where do you want it, mijn lieveling” You could hear he was just as ruined as you were, the words forcibly coming out.

“Don’t move.” The vague response that he easily understood was the only thing you could get out. 

You appreciated when Joost would tell you if he was close, but you knew him so well that his body language always gave him away. His breaths hitch and deepen, he’d thrust into you at a pace that was erratic, deep, and so loving even if it overwhelmed you it made how much he adored and worshiped you undeniable. Once his movements suddenly stopped and he whined against your neck, teeth sinking gently into the flesh of your shoulder. 

Even if it was messy and later more trouble than it seemed worth when your mind cleared up from lust, you never wanted to deny yourself of this. It brought you closer, knowing you were his, knowing that no one else in the world could make you feel so loved. 

Joost panted against you, pressing lazy kisses against your face as he softened inside of you.  As he dozed off, he couldn’t stop telling you how good you were, how lucky he was and how much he adored you. Still, he needed to take a moment to calm down as he held you close and this was his favorite way to do it. The intimacy you shared was like you were always one, nothing could bring you apart. 

You wished the moment could last forever. Tenderly holding each other, your hand rubbing on his back to soothe him, his thumb caressing your cheek. Your breathing was perfectly in sync, calming each other down from the intensity. All you could hear now were the sweet morning birds and Joost’s heartbeat. 

You couldn’t feel sad, looking back it’s been like this for so long and only was getting better. You saw his eyes had fluttered shut, his breathing settled. You held him closer, you couldn’t be happier knowing that all your mornings could be like this. 

-

doesn’t he look so boyfriend in that picture

[cheshirebitch]

Alastor x Reader

𝔸𝕞 𝕀 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕤𝕖𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕥?

( part two here )

When I walked into the hotel, I wasn’t expecting to see Charlie mid conversation with an overlord. Well, an overlord that wasn’t Alastor. My loyalties lay with only Alastor, so seeing Vox of all people in the hotel was enough to make my skin crawl with a sense of something bad about to happen. Scanning the room, I could see Husk looking at me with the same look. Pure fear of what was about to go down. My fingers twitched at my side as I slowly approached the conversation going on between them despite Husk’s look telling me not to. 

“Like I said here Princess, very fine hotel you have here.” Vox smoothly spoke. The TV eyes slid across the screen over to me. They practically popped off the screen when he saw me watching him from behind Charlie. Charlie stopped mid sentence and turned to see Vox was gawking at me. I smoothed my pantsuit out with ease and elegance, after all I was representing myself and Alastor here. My eyes narrowed towards Vox as I watched him. 

“Vox.” My voice was stern and authoritative, despite the fact I was worried what Alastor would do knowing I just addressed his enemy. Vox was taken aback at how I actually spoke to him and didn’t remain silent like always.

“And here I thought you didn’t speak.” Vox smiles widely and it makes my eye twitch. I took a sharp breath in, looked him up and down, and then smiled wickedly. 

“Well yes, I tend to save conversation with worthy and powerful people.” I fixed the cuffs on my shirt before smoothly sliding my eyes back to make eye contact with a slightly fuming TV screen. “After all, that does explain why our conversations are almost nonexistent.” Charlie looked bewildered on how I spoke to someone like Vox like that. I was no overlord, nowhere close to it really. Everyone assumes I am Alastor’s ally, but really I sold my soul to him a while ago. 

Vox fumed and slipped on his composure enough for me to see right through his bullshit. He was here to replace Alastor in this hotel business, not that Charlie was dumb enough to accept any offer Vox had. I smiled wider seeing how easily I got under Vox’s wires. When I fixed my cuffs on my shirt though, I saw how Angel Dust was looking nervous at Vox’s presence. 

I have been figuring out a way to get Angel out of his soul contract with Valentino but I haven’t yet ironed out all the details. If I was smart, I wouldn’t meddle in someone else’s contract when I have myself on a chain too. The thing is though, I’m already in hell so what is really the harm here? Fuck it.

“Vox?” I said sweetly. It caught everyone’s attention in the room. Angel was on the verge of having a heart attack for how worried he was, Charlie was wondering what exactly was about to happen, Vaggie was trying to also put together what was going on, and Husk was staring at me with eyes pleading I don’t say anything to get myself on a tighter leash with Alastor. After all, I was his favorite and maybe I didn’t mind being on a leash, as long as he was the one holding it. 

“What?” Vox’s irritation was obvious but I was about to peak his interest enough to forget all about it.

“If you’re here for business purposes only, I might have something to offer a sinner like you.” My face was serious and professional. Alastor was sure to rip me a new one when he hears about this. Vox stared at me for a moment, then he walked quickly over to me. I waited patiently and slightly nervously. 

Vox leaned down and whispered in a way to intimidate me, but only one man could visibly scare me and Alastor wasn’t back yet. The smile on my face grew. I was in deep shit. “Are you trying to strike a deal with me?” His screen looked like it was about to overheat with how infatuated he was over this. My mouth opened to speak but Alastor pushed the door open to the hotel. 

“Alastor!” Charlie spoke loudly in hopes it would straighten Vox and I out but it was far too late for that. Alastor was already staring directly at me with disapproving eyes, pure fury burning behind them. I couldn’t read which one he was mad at, Vox or me. Seeing him though was enough for me to shiver at the intensity of his seething eyes. I quickly whispered with a hand out, already knowing I was doomed to be killed later, “Angel Dust will be freed from his contract completely in exchange of information on how someone important to you will be in danger soon.” My power was to see the future and past with a touch. Vox looked taken aback before he realized I was alluding to a potential life threat to someone who would mean the world to him. He quickly shook my hand in front of Alastor, who was taking quick pissed off steps towards us. Before Alastor could pull Vox away from me, I grabbed his arm and showed him what he needed. An angel will come down and find someone from his life on Earth, brand new to the hell world, and kill them before they could spend a day in hell. Before Vox would even know they were ever in hell. His eyes looked at me before he realized how horrible of a decision he just made. 

Angel Dust was freed instantly with his old chains being placed on Vox. They traded places and Vox realized how screwed he really was. That was before Alastor finally reached him and grabbed ahold of him. Charlie started freaking out and so was Vaggie. Alastor’s top lip curled in agitation but his smile remained as always. 

“Alastor please, just handle it outside of the hotel.” Charlie begged as Angel was still in shock behind her. Husk was staring at me with pure fear for my well being. My eyes locked with Husk before I looked back at Alastor who was already staring me down. He put down Vox before using his black magical powers to toss Vox, not so gracefully, away from the hotel. Our eyes were locked so intensely, I knew I was doomed. This was it, the final straw. But at least Anthony was free from being Angel Dust forever. He can be fully redeemed. He was still a couple strides away from me, those red eyes turning into sunken in red dots for eyes. It was terrifying.

“(Y/n), a word?” My heart sank. I have to say goodbye as fast as I can before Alastor kills me. 

“Anthony, you don’t have to be Angel Dust ever again.” I quickly spoke before Alastor started his quick, long strides towards me. His eyes still remained sunken in with only glowing maroon red dots for eyes. He was beyond pissed at me. Charlie looked thrilled but also entirely worried for my well being. 

“Đ₳ⱤⱠł₦₲.” The voice was pure static and not at all relaxing from Alastor. I really fucked up.

“Yes sir, I know.” I nodded my head and walked towards my room in the hotel, the pissed radio demon right behind me. 

“Alastor please-”

“₦Ø₮ ₳ ₩ØⱤĐ.” He spoke so clipped I knew not to speak. Just do as he says and walk faster. 

By the time we reached my room, I was a shaking mess. My fingers shook so bad, I struggled to open the door to my room. When I finally opened the door, Alastor shoved me in and slammed the door behind us. He completely lost whatever sanity he was holding on to.

“What, was ₮Ⱨ₳₮?” His face was in my face, wild and crazy eyes. I went to explain, but he wasn’t finished yet.

“Why was he here? Do you invite him to my territory to make a deal with him behind my back?” He looked pissed and betrayed. My eyes looked into his. Well, I already have myself set up to die so why not make it worthwhile?

“Oh please!” I rolled my eyes and laughed dryly. “I would never and you know that!” I pointed my finger in his face as I matched his volume. He looked bewildered at the fact I was biting back at him. 

“Oh no? Then enlighten me dear, did I not witness you strike a deal with my enemy in front of me?” My jaw clenched before I responded. 

“You did. I made a deal to tell him important information for Angel Dust to be freed. I fooled him into thinking it was the most dire information ever and used your presence to force a choice in that moment. In reality it was nothing worth swapping places for Angel!” I had crazy eyes and I knew it. After all, I had to be crazy in order to actually argue back with Alastor, to even be yelling at Alastor. Only someone crazy would do that. 

“Wait.” Alastor held a hand over his eyes before leaning, defeated against the door. I didn’t stop though.

“You honestly thought I would betray you?! Alastor! Take a good long look at us! My contract should have been terminated a while ago but I keep renewing it with you! Why the fuck would I want to be on anyone else’s leash?” I knew my anger was getting the best of me. Alastor looked at me, growling out “Darling, stop for a moment.” I got in his face instead.

“Tell me Alastor, how fucking dumb do you think either of us are? Because I think you’re really fucking ditsy to think I would ever choose someone else over you.” He looked at me with that wild smile still before leaning closer to my face and grabbing my shoulders, darkly speaking without the radio static. “I said stop talking, (Y/n).” He made a zipper appear and slide my mouth shut before wiping his hands over his face again, turning away from me. It was silent for a moment. His freshly tailored suit looked vibrant as always. I watched his shoulders tense up and then he released a deep sigh before turning back around with a more composed smile, still anger seeping out.

“There’s a couple things here dear (Y/n). A lot of things.” slowly sauntering towards me, cornering me.

“I’m relieved to know you weren’t trying to betray me…” His eyes opened and he was glaring at me with such anger I thought he was surely going to kill me after this conversation. “But, you did make a deal without informing me. Afterall, I do own you my sweet darling.” dark red chains that were huge links of metal appeared in his grasp and around my throat. He tugged them so I was on my knees and looking up at him, noticing the slight glimmer in his eyes when I looked up at him.

“Do you understand how pissed I was to see someone who will only ever be mine touched- fuck- even close to you like that.” His swearing caught my attention. The way it was so breathy and almost like a whisper had me mentally on my knees now too. “I never want anyone close to you like that ever again. I will kill them and broadcast their screams over my radio show.” I nodded my head before his sharp claw like fingers gently grabbed my face in one hand under my chin. The chain was tightly held in his other hand as he bent down to me. 

“Do you understand how angry I was? Seeing some nobody talking to my prized possession like it was an easy feat? Pathetic.” He tugged on my chain again as his sanity finally cracked. He was laughing maniacally now. 

“For all I knew, he could have been trying to trick you or trying to hurt you. As if I would ever let him hurt you.” I barely grasped the last sentence, he said it so lightly. Was he saying he…cared for me? Why would be care? He never showed he cared for Husk like this, not even Niffty.

“You belong to me and me only sweetheart. Only I can have you on a chain like this.” He tugged it again. “Only I can make deals with you. You don’t understand how truly dangerous they are darling.” I narrowed my eyes at him. I know how dangerous they are. I mean I’m here willingly on his chain. 

“Doll, you’re too precious to me for someone else to obtain. Do you understand?” What? What did he just say? Why was he saying that? I thought I was just another soul he has contracted? My eyes were wide as I nodded once before unzipping my mouth.

“Alastor-” I whimpered out. His eyes darkened and so did his smile.

“Leave me.” The chains disappeared and I was on my feet as he was shoving me out of my own room. Before I could point that out, I was already pushed out. The door slammed shut and I stood there dumbfounded. I spun around in my spot for a moment before I sighed and walked back down to the rest of the group.

(Part two...?)

(Love love LOVE Alastor and Lucifer in this world. By FAR my favorites. Also just kinda making my own rules with the way soul contracts / contracts are. Trying to base most of it accurately but still tweaking a few details :) Charcters and world belongs to the respected owners and the story belongs to me :)! Let me know if yall want more!)

[sarawritestories]

Unwavering Presence Chapter 7

Cassian X Archeron Sister (Reader)

Summary: Rhys and Reader get into an argument that leads to a moment Under the mountain that Y/N would rather forget. And when things don't go as planned at the prison, Y/N must confront her sister after learning just how much Feyre was suffering.

Content Warnings: our FMC being put on a leash (Literally), mentions of abuse potential abuse to children (there is none! just the idea is brought up) , mentions of suicidal ideation, Nightmares, angst

Word Count: 6.5K

Masterlist Chapter 6

Unwavering Masterlist

After finishing the awkward dinner, I made my way to my room and changed out of my dress and put on my silk pajamas sighing at the comfort. Cassian had walked me to my room in silence though his pinky was still entwined in mine and when he dropped me off, he murmured a good night and kissed my hand before heading to bed. His lips against my skin, caused heat to rise in my cheeks and I found myself quickly hiding in my room trying to settle the butterflies in my stomach.

I walked over to my desk and grabbed my journal from my cloak pocket, ever since Cassian bought it, it has been on my person I never leave it. I took a seat and was about ready to write when there was a knock on my door, “Come in.” Rhys walked in.

He leaned against the door, crossing his arms and his ankles leaning against the dark ornate wood. “Did you have to be so hard on her?”

I closed my notebook and let my fingers graze the leather the indents of the ivy engraved in the leather, and finally meeting is eyes, “She’s acting like a child.” She crossed her arms, “She was also extremely rude, and you and your family didn’t deserve that.”

Rhys smirked, and tilted his head, “You know we have been around a long time we can handle ourselves.”

I shrugged and crossed my legs on the bench. “Just because you can doesn’t mean that a friend can’t come to your defense.” I bit my lip, “Even when she feels guilty of her previous behavior to you and is super apologetic.”

Rhys crinkled his nose and made his face so youthful, something I noticed I didn’t see much under the mountain, and I giggled, and confusion fell over the high lord’s features, “What?”

My giggles softened and I gave him a smile, “I enjoy seeing you outside Amarantha.” I could see him physically restrain himself from wincing at her name, but I continued as I stood and made my way to him, “You look so free. Youthful even.”

Rhys smiled, “Well aren’t you sweet,” He opened his arm and I slid into his side as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders pulling me close. “Feyre and I are heading to the prison tomorrow.” I must have had a confused look on my face because he continued, “The prison is where we keep some of the most ancient and vile fae and magical beings. Under a mountain at the edge of Night Court border.”

I meet his violet eyes, “Rhysand, you’re taking her under another mountain.” His lips were a tight line. “What is in there that is so important?”

Rhys remained silent for a moment, “I wouldn’t ask her if I didn’t think the answer, we could find there were important.” Rhys eyes hardened, “The information wouldn’t tip the scales in our favor for the impending war.”

I scooted out of his grasp and his gaze softened. “Why Feyre?”

“The inmate we would be seeing won’t talk to me, but will talk to Feyre Cursebreaker, that I have no doubt about.”

I Internally cringed at the title, tampering that unprecedented jealousy, the title proved she was important in Prythian’s history. Further proved that I was not. Clearing my throat I asked, “She’s okay with it?”

He nodded, “You are an important part of our history too you know?”

I stood up and turned my back to him checking and grumbled, “Get out of my head, High Lord.”

“Your shields are solid, Angel, you wear your heart on your sleeve.” I turned and scowled at him which only caused him to chuckle, putting his hands up in mock surrender. “Feyre may have broken the curse, but no one in that ballroom will easily forget about the human girl who stood in front of those two Fae children and took their punishment for them.”

My heart stopped as the sound of fabric ripping echoed the cavern hall. Amarantha with lethal calm turned to see two small fae girls frozen in place with fear. Their hands clasped together. Terror exploded on their features. Amarantha’s smile was sinister, as she steps down from the dais, “What did you two do?” My gaze drifts to my sister who is on Rhysand’s lap head laying on his shoulder. His arms wrapped around her shoulders as her eyes drift close, probably the effects of the fae wine taking hold of her as Rhysand sipped from his own cup. He had since given up forcing me to drink it after I spit it out on his shoes. Though Feyre doesn’t remember  

Turning back to the young girls as Amarantha was waiting for them to answer the two simply trembled in response a puddle was forming under one of them and my heart broke. The longer the two girls remained silent the irater Amarantha became “You two ingrates ruined my dress! You should haven’t been that close to royalty. Clearly your useless parents didn’t teach you respect. So, allow me.”

Her hand raised up and my feet moved before I could think about what I was doing and suddenly I pulled the girls behind me before Amarantha’s hand collided with my cheek. The girls screamed but I turned to them, “It’s okay. Go find your mother. Wipe your tears and hold your head high.” The girls both did and lifted their chin as they briskly walked to their mother, and I turned to the seething fae female before me.

“You had no right-“

I interrupted her my chin high, “They are children. What they did was an accident. If a punishment must be implemented, I will take it in their place.”

Amarantha eyes flared her stare made me shift the sheer red fabric that shifts to orange at the bottom covering very little of my body moved with my fidgeting. Her eyes then moved to find those two girls, she found them cowering in the arms of their mother, “The cauldron has blessed you both. You should be grateful.” She takes a step forward and her finger touches one end of my collar bone and slides to the other side smearing the paint Rhys’ wraiths painted on me. “Y/N Archeron, twin sister of Feyre.” She circles me like predator waiting for the kill. She stands behind me, her nail grazing the fabric on my shoulder, I fought off a shutter as she faced me again, “You’re a pretty little thing, for human filth. Bold too. Interrupting me not only during my punishment but as I was speaking too.” She tsks as the hand that provided false gentleness collided with my cheek once more her nails scraping skin. She gripped my chin and forced me to look at her, “A foolish human girl, who risked her life for two fae children. What a silly thing to do.”

“Children human or otherwise-“

Faster than a blink a piece of Amarantha’s dress was torn from the dress and shoved into my mouth she worked on getting another stripped around my wrist. “I grow tired of you speaking, girl.” She cinches the fabric against my wrist tightly causing me to shriek in pain. She turned me to face her again and she smiled, “Much better. "Now the question is, what to do for your punishment?”

I tested my binds, and she pressed me to your back. “Hmm I think your punishment will be someone else’s reward.” She looked out into the crowd and I allowed myself to look at Rhysand and my sister. The High Lord’s face revealed nothing but there was a prickle in my mind and his voice filtered in my head,

Breathe. I’m sorry Y/N, I cannot help you.

In the hopes he could hear me, those girls didn’t deserve to see the cruelties of this world just yet. Try to keep their innocence.

To my surprised he gave a curt nod before he drank the rest of his wine and Amarantha’s voice bellowed through the hall, “Eris Vanserra, please step forward.”

I looked out for Lucien and saw his face frown as his eldest brother stepped forward. The male was handsome his tan skin and gold eyes were warm but hardened. Amarantha pushed me forward and I whimpered muffled through the gag as she forced me to my knees, and she gripped the back of my head pressing down until my forehead hit the floor. “Stay there, Pet. Until he tells you otherwise, “her slim hands left my body as she spoke to the eldest brother, “You have done exceptional work, and it has not gone unnoticed. There was a long pause, “As a treat, one of the Archeron twins to use however, you please. You can deposit her in her cell in the morning.”

“Thank you, My Queen. Your gift is beyond gracious. I am truly humbled.” My heartrate spiked, and I tried to shift pain racking in my knees.

Breathe. Through your nose.  Rhys’ voice instructed and I followed his instruction.

A calloused hand hoisted me up to my feet and I looked up to find Eris smirking at me. “I don’t think the gag is necessary don’t you.” I nodded, “Open, Love.” I opened my mouth, and he removed the fabric from my mouth.  I coughed, and he tipped my chin up to face him, and he gave me a cold smile as his toned arm wrapped around my waist, undoing the binds, “I don’t think you need this either. and pulled me close, his breath warm on my ear. The smell of an autumn day filled my nostrils. He whispered low enough that no one could hear, "Y/N Archeron, let’s give them a good performance. Keep your face neutral and do everything I say."

He gripped me tightly, and a gasp escaped my lips as my chest was flushed to his, his lips kissed my ear, “We must make it believable, Love. Say ‘Yes Master’ if you understand.”

“Yes Master.”

He growled in my ear his hand gripped my skin tightly, “Good Girl,” He slapped the bare area of my ass causing me to yelp. He waves his hand and flames circled around my neck, the end of the flame in Eris hands. “Let us do a lap, pet and then we go to bed.” He yanked my leash pulling me closer to him, “Let’s start with thanking the High Lord of the Night Court for dressing you in Autumn Colors.” He looked at me expectantly.

I take in a deep breath, “Yes Master.”

He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear, “Good Girl.”

Rhysand snapped his finger in my face. Worry written on his features stars were banked out. “What did he do to you, Angel?”

I feign ignorance, “Who?”

Rhys gave me a knowing look, “You know who. Don’t play dumb.”

I rolled my eyes, “Nothing happened worth talking about.”

Rhys growled anger morphing into his face, “I saw his intentions, If he touch-“

I rubbed my temples and groaned, “Fuck No.” I looked at him anger boiling, “I don’t talk about it because he asked me not to.”

Rhys blinked taken aback, “Why protect him?” he crossed his arms.

I gritted my teeth, “Stop pushing.” I walked over to my door and opened it, “Take care of my sister tomorrow. Good night.”

Rhys sighs as he stood and walked over to me. He placed a gentle kiss on my forehead, “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just saying you were just as brave and just as much a victim there as Feyre. Talking about it could be helpful.”

I gave him a hard stare, “I know, Rhys. I appreciate you keeping that door open. I do. You don’t know what happened that night. But trust me when I say that nothing happened that night that I mean it.”

Rhys clenched his fist, “Eris is a monster.”

I bite my lip, “Well, people could and have said the same about you. Yet I trusted you. Good night, Rhysand.” I slammed the door before he could get another word in and locked the door.

I couldn’t sleep that night; I kept tossing and turning. Flashes of Under the Mountain and Amarantha, The wyrm, and those girls, forcing their way into my dreams that I began to sweat. I pulled off my covers and wandered to the family library.

 I rubbed my eyes as I walked in and found Cassian sitting in the chair, a glass in his hand staring at the fire. He was wearing black silk lounge pants and a lounge shirt that hugged his taught muscles his wings relaxed but sprawled slightly, his ebony locks up in a bun. I tried to back away before he could catch me, “Couldn’t sleep either, huh?”  I sighed as his warm eyes met mine, he patted the chair next to him, “Come on, Princess, talk to me.”

I dragged my feet over there and plopped on a chair, “Rhys and I got into an argument.”

Cassian nodded and handed me a glass. I took it and tried to ignore the feeling in my chest when our fingers touched. “Want to talk about it?”

I took a sip letting the burn of alcohol ease down my throat and looked at the fire. “Something that happened when we were Under the Mountain. I don’t want to go into details. He just assumes one thing happened and when it didn’t.”

His hummed, “Would it be about what happened when you saved those girls?”

I turned my head to him, “You know about that?”

Cassian gave me a warm smile, “Sweetheart, a human girl put her life on the line to save to fae children from getting harmed. Rhys may have told me when he got home, because he had never met anyone, a human no less, defend a child while being under there. But when the curse was lifted, everyone brought up about your bravery.”

I bit my lip, “It was an accident they didn’t deserve whatever cruel punishment Amarantha was going to endure. Anyone would have done that.”

Calloused fingers moved my face to meet his eyes slight ire there, “No, Princess, they wouldn’t. They should but they wouldn’t. Especially if that meant you were Eris’ pet for the evening.”

I groaned pulling away from his touch and taking my drink, slamming the rest of the contents in my mouth. “Not you too.”

“He’s dangerous from what Rhys said he had you in a collar on a leash.”

I gritted my teeth, “Drop it, Cassian.”

He sighed, “It wouldn’t be the first time he did something heinous, have you talked to Mor about this?”

“No and I wasn’t planning on it.”

“You should than you would understand Rhys’ concern-“

I stood up, slamming the glass on the table, “He took me to his room, gave me his jacket to wear, and let me sleep on his bed while he slept in the chair. Is that what you want to hear? Because that’s what fucking happened, Cassian. He didn’t hurt me; he didn’t touch me past having a hand on my back. He let me have a good night’s rest. That’s. it.”

Cassian blinked, “The collar. The leash made of fire; Rhys said you had burns.”

“Amarantha had expectations, we met them.” I crossed my arms. “I’m not saying he’s perfect or not a piece of shit. I’m saying that on that evening specifically, he didn’t do a damn thing to me.”

Cassian’s brow furrowed and his lips formed a tight line, contemplating. “Fine, so he didn’t hurt you or force you to do anything why not tell Rhys that?”

“Because Eris asked me not to tell anyone what happened that night and I wanted to honor that not because I wanted to protect him but because I owed him. And given the look you’re giving me. I don’t think he would believe me either.” I bowed my head, “Goodnight, General.”

 I turned only for a hand to circle my wrist, “I believe you, Princess.” I faced him, he rose from is seat and his face held no trace of humor, his form towering over me. “I believe you, and he would to, but I know there is more you’re not telling me.”

“I am.” I didn’t bother hiding it. “But anything past what I already told you is not my story to tell. I hope you can respect that I won’t share it.”

Cassian nodded, “I understand.”

I took my free hand into his, “Why are you awake?”

Cassian sat back down and smirked, “What keeps anyone from sleeping, Princess?”

I blinked surprised by the question I asked when we first met, “Nightmares...”

I released his hand and noticed he flexed his fingers like he yearned for my touch as I sat on the chair across from him. “Yeah, I don’t get them often, but when I do, they’re…realistic enough to keep me awake.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, his face looked haunted.

“No.” He gave me a small smile, “But thank you for the offer, you should try to go to sleep.”

“You should as well.”

“I’m going to have a hard time falling asleep.” He retorted.

“Me too.”

He chuckled and I stood and held out my hand. “Come on, General.”

Cassian placed his hand in mine and tugged indicating I wanted him up, he stood, his wings rustling. I led him over to the couch and sat patting my lap. “Sweetheart, I would squish you if I sat on your lap.”

“Is it a requirement that to be in this court you have to be a smart ass? I want you to lay your head on my lap, Darling.” His stunned look told me no one has ever given him a pet name before, but he slowly sits and adjusts his wings in a position that is comfortable but won’t hurt me and finally he lays his head down on my lap. His eyes look up to mine and I smile as I pull the tie that is keeping his hair bound.

“What are you doing?”

I smiled, as thoughts from the week before coming to my mind, “I know when I’m not going to win a battle, General.” I wink at him, “I’m compromising.” His eyes twinkle in recognition of my words. He turns his head as I begin running my fingers through his hair he sighs in contentment. “Close your eyes, Cassian.” I watched his lids flutter shut and his breathing deepening as I kept weaving my fingers through his hair and I started to hum a lullaby and in seconds the General was asleep on my lap, and I leaned my head back as the smell of him calmed me and my eyes grew heavy and with my hand through his hair. I drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

Cassian’s POV

I woke up to the sun illuminating behind my eye lids. Though I realized I’m not in my room but the library. The memory of the night before came back to me. I shifted to find Y/N sleeping, her head leaning against the bookshelf. I gently sat up careful not to disturb her, but she stirred as I moved into a seated position. Her eyes lit up by the morning sky coming in from the window. Even as she woke, she was radiant like a gift from the mother herself. “Good morning, did you sleep well?” She mumbled as she tried to blink away the sleepiness from her eyes.

I smiled, “Yeah, Princess, did you? I’m sorry you fell asleep sitting up.”

She waved me off as she took the hair bind, I used to tie my hair and placed her hair in a bun few strands framing her face. Beautiful. “I have had to sleep in worse conditions than this. I just wanted to make sure you got sleep.” Another yawn from her. I stood up and stretched my sore wings.

I grinned at her, and she gave me a lazy smile back, “Thank you, Princess,” I held out my hand to her, “Let’s get you some breakfast,” she slipped her hand in mine, and it was dwarfed in mine and had tiny callouses from hunting, fighting, and training. I help her up and I go to release her hand, but she keeps a hold of mine as we exit the library and head toward the dining room. “Sweetheart, don’t you want to get dressed?”

“No, I want to eat.” She paused and looked at our hands and let go missing her warmth in my palm in an instant, “I’m sorry if you want to-“

I held my hand up, “Not at all, lead the way, Archeron.”

There was a glint in her eyes and her smile was mischievous, “Last one to the dining room has to do 50 pushups at training today.” Before I can respond to her challenge she bolts. I chuckled and waited about a minute before I chased after her. It only took me a couple of strides to catch up with her and past her, “No!” She huffed as I reached the double doors, opening for me and skidded to a halt barely winded as Y/N got there and placed her hands on her knees trying to catch her breath. “Stupid fae speed.”

I laughed and ruffled her hair, and she swatted at me, “Maybe next time I will let you win. However, you owe me 50 pushups.” She groaned, and I placed a hand on her back and led her to the chair where food appeared on her chair. Only then acknowledging the short black haired fae who quirked her brow. “Morning, Tiny one.” Amren glared at me, and I grinned, “She challenged me to a race and lost.” I explained.

Amren snorted sipping her goblet, “Girl, if you are going to survive here, you have to pick and choose your battles properly.”

Y/N stabbed my eggs, “I thought I had a chance.”

Before I could counter Rhys and Feyre winnowed in, Feyre stormed out of the dining room ignoring everyone including her sister. I could see the pain in Y/N’s face as she looked over to my brother. “We need to talk, Y/N.” His face was stony, and I could see the light dim in Y/N’s eyes as she shrunk in her seat.

Rhysand walked over to her and held out his arm. Y/N pushed the plate away, not being able to get a bite and making a note to make sure she ate before we trained. She stood and walked past him ignoring his arm and heading out into the hall.

Rhysand.

My brother paused as I sent my thoughts to his mind. What?

Apologize to her, she told me what happened with Eris. He let her sleep and get a good’s night sleep. That’s it.

You believe her?

I growled at him, Yes. As should you. She has never given you a reason not to believe her.

Rhys gave a nod still not facing me as he walked from the room. Before leaving completely he whispered in my mind She might need you in a few minutes.

I looked to Amren to find her looking at me with her scrutinizing gaze. “What?”

“What’s gotten into you?” she asked her as she took another sip of her goblet.

“Nothing.”

“Liar.” She looked at the door that Rhys and Y/N walked through, “She’s a force even for a mere human. Willing to stand up to her own blood for Fae she doesn’t know well.”

I smiled, “She’s got a warrior’s heart. Someone just needs to remind her that she doesn’t need to take care of everyone else, that she should take care of herself.”

“Hmm someone like the General of the Night Court’s armies?” Amren questioned her red lips quirked up a bit.

I took a bite of my food, ignoring her inquiry, “Mind your business.”

Reader POV

Rhys walked out of the dining room after having a conversation with Cassian and Amren. My mood had quickly shifted with Feyre looking upset and the hard look Rhys gave me after our argument last night. “Follow me.” He led us up to his study, I shut the door behind me and leaned against the door as he sat in the chair behind his desk.

The room had various paintings of maps of not only Prythian but constellations of the night sky, and on a desk flushed against the wall was a model with all the planets. “Please make yourself comfortable.” His voice was formal not teasing like he was the day before. I didn’t move, He looked up and my feelings of his behavior changed must have been apparent on my face as Rhys sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. “I owe you an apology.” I bit my lip and looked at my feet. “I should have dropped the Eris subject last night when you asked.”

I looked at him a steeliness in my tone, “Yes you should have.” He flinched, I walked toward him and sat across from him holding out my hand. “Let me show you.”

Rhys shook his head, “Y/N you don-“

“Rhys just shut up and do it.” He nodded and took my hand and I let him into my mind and showed him Eris giving me his tunic, him tucking me into bed, and him sitting on the chair, eyes watching me as I fell asleep. I broke off the connection. “I wouldn’t lie, Rhys.”

Rhys nodded, “I know, which is why I want to apologize.” He walked around the desk and knelt in front of me. “I’m sorry for pushing. I’m sorry for not believing you. I will spend so many days being sorry so long as you stop looking at me like I am stranger and just your High Lord and not your friend.”

I gave him a smile and I wrapped my arms around him, “All is forgiven, unless you did something to make Feyre so upset. Then I’m kicking your ass.”

He laughed, but his face grew solemn, “Y/N, she needs you.” My forehead creased, “She never went into the prison today she got scared, that wasn’t her fault, but Y/N, I need you to understand just how not well she’s doing.”

I meet his violet eyes his stars gone, “Show me.”

Rhys gripped the back of my neck and pressed his forehead to mind as I let him in and flashes of her throwing up the night before from the nightmares Her screams echoing the halls, Rhys comforting her. He flashes me to the week I hid myself after she accused me of abandoning her and she tells Rhys how nice it would feel to die, and I felt my chest tighten. Rhysand immediately talking her out of that headspace. Her gaunt haunted face through Rhysand’s eyes.

His claws released my mind, but Rhys held me close as tears and panic rose through me. “Y/N, it’s not your fault.”

“She wants to die. How did I not feel that? How did I miss it? I’m a terrible sister.” My voice barely above a whisper as the images whirl around my brain a never ending loop of Feyre’s pain.

Rhys grips my neck tightly, “Stop it.” I met his gaze as he pulls his face away from mine, “Stop beating yourself up. You didn’t know.”

“BUT I SHOULD HAVE!” I erupted causing Rhys to jump back, “I was so mad! I couldn’t even look at her only to find out she has been hating herself.” I stood and began to pace, “I promised my mom that I would take care of her. But I let her go out into the forest only going out with her scarcely, I let Tamlin sink his teeth into her with his sweet words, and soft touches. I let her think I abandoned her.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, please calm down.” Rhys tried to grab my shoulder and I shook him off.

My breathing became short and erratic, “What if she would have taken her life when Tamlin kicked me out of his court. What if she did it and I never apologized.” I rubbed my hand on my chest, “It would have been my fault. Oh gods.” Breathing became difficult and my hearing muffled I didn’t even notice the door open. Strong arms wrapped around me and flushed up against a strong toned chest the smell of leather and sandalwood surrounded me. I leaned my head back as tears flowed freely.

“Come on, Sweetheart,” Cassian whispered in my ear, he pressed his lips to the top of my ear. He led me to the couch to sit and he lightly bended my head in between my knees. “Inhale,” he commanded his voice not that of a general, but I couldn’t place the gentle yet firm tone in it, and I take a breath, “hold it,” I did for a moment, “Exhale slowly,” He exhaled with me his hand rubbing circles around my back. “That’s my girl, again,” He guided me through some deep breaths, and I began to calm down.  I slowly sat up and I met his Hazel eyes his hand continued to rub my back, “Hi.”

“Hi.” I whispered.

“You okay?” I nodded and gripped my chin, “I need you to say it, baby.”

“I’m okay.” I murmured, I leaned my head on his shoulder, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N. We’re not training today.” I tried to protest but before I could open my mouth he said, “Don’t fight with me. You need to take it easy, and by the sounds of it you need to have a talk with your sister.”

I lifted my head, “Okay.” I looked at Rhys, “I’m sor-“

Rhys growled, “Do not apologize for letting your feelings out.” He kissed the top of my head, “You’re scared for your sister and want to take her pain away. I understand. I had a feeling this might happen due to how much you love her. But don’t apologize for feeling these feelings, okay?”

I sniffled, Cassian’s hand grounding me, “Even if I was a contributing factor to her pain.”

“She doesn’t see it that way. When we were outside the prison, she wished you were there. That doesn’t sound like someone who is contributing to her pain.” Rhys said. “Stay here for as long as you need.” Rhys walked away and shut the door the soft clicking felt loud against my ears.

“You don’t need to stay here, Cass,” I said as I straightened my back.

He laughed, “I’m not going anywhere, unless you ask me to. Would you like me to leave?” I bit my lip debating being honest and eventually I just shook my head. “Then I stay.” And we sat like that for a few hours with him rubbing soothingly on my back as my forehead leaned against his shoulder.

When I was finally calm, I parted ways with Cassian, kissing him on the cheek in thanks for once again taking care of me. I could have sworn I saw him blush as he turned and left for his room, but he was gone before I could assess further.

***

Then I changed and found myself outside Feyre’s door, my hand hovering over the wooden panel to knock. Before I could I just hear her go, “Come in, Y/N,”

I opened her door to find scribbling on parchment. I walked in closer and noticed she wasn’t scribbling, she was drawing. Which means she was itching to paint again. She smiled, “I could hear your heartbeat skyrocket in front of my door.

I swallowed the lump down my throat as she put her sketch to the side and faced me.

“I’m sorry.” We both said at the same time we both blinked at each other before we began to laugh.

She got up and pulled me in a bone crushing hug that I returned. “I shouldn’t have blamed you for leaving. I know you wouldn’t have gone willingly. I was just so relieved, hurt and scared that when I saw you I just.”

“Let your inner Nesta out and said things you knew would hurt.” She nodded as she sat back on the bed dragging me with her. “I get it Fey, and I need to apologize to you for my outburst yesterday. I may have been out of line.”

Feyre shook her head, “You weren’t. I was being unfair to them. I meant what I said though.” I frowned, “You seem happier here. Less on edge.”

I nodded my head in agreement, “I am happy.” I smiled and squeezed her hand, “You could be happy here too. They are good Fae either way they are kind, and generous and I think we could fit right in. If you’re open.”

She gave me a small tentative smile, “I can see myself getting to place here. Rhys is not what I expected. He is kind, patient, and sweet.”

I smirked and looked at my nail, “Handsome, charming, alluring,” Feyre shoved me playfully, as I felt what must have been the equivalent to laughter down our bond.

“I mean he is all those things too, but I should have listened to you when you told me to give him a chance.”

“Yeah, probably, but we can’t change the past. We can only move forward, and maybe that starts with us being able to talk again.” I extended the olive branch.

“I would love nothing more, Y/N. I know I have pushed you away, but I have been feeling so lonely and isolated. I want you around.” She looked down at her hands, “I need you around.”

I grabbed her hands and gave them a squeeze, “I’m here, I’m not going anywhere. Until my heart stops beating. You’re my sister. I will always be there for you.”

Tears welled up in her eyes and she gripped me in a hug as she sobbed in my shoulder, “I wanted to die.”

I didn’t realize my own tears were falling as I gripped her tightly back, “I know.”

 “I don’t how to heal from this.” She whispered.

“We’ll figure it out, together.” I retorted.

“You swear?”

“I swear.” We both hissed as light flashed between us and designs of swirls and two hearts intertwining revealed itself on Feyre’s collarbone, her eyes widened when I moved my tunic shirt to see the same design. “Well, I guess you and I have a bargain, Fey.”

I pulled her back into me for another hug, and we stayed like that for a while, nothing but the crackling of the fire. Staring at the fire my brain led me to that night with Eris.

Eris paraded me around the ballroom keeping me on a short leash as his hand sprawled on my back. He reached the Dais where Amarantha and Tamlin stood, his eyes flicked to me and I could have sworn there was a flicker of a smirk was on his face but it was gone as quickly as it was there. “My queen, I would like to retire with my pet at your approval of course.”

Amarantha should me a glare and I just bow my head avoiding her gaze, “Yes get her out of my sight. Enjoy your reward.”

With a tug of the leash, he walked me out and I had chance to glance at Rhysand who was holding on to a dancing drunken Feyre. When we walked down the hall past the sentries Eris removes the leash and collar of flame and holds out his hand. I hesitated to take it and Eris clicked his tongue, “You attempt to flee, my little ember, and I will make sure you are bound to the point of uselessness.”

My hand finds his and finds they are surprisingly warm. He leads me to his chamber and finds that despite it being in the mountain it looks like it could be a room in a castle. Eris walks in and begins to unbutton his jacket and I tense, fear of what he has planned, He looked at me clearly sensing my fear. Not easing my fears, Eris shook off the jacket and walked over holding it out expecting me to put my arms through. Confusion fell upon me as I slowly moved and slid my arms in the jacket. He pulled me close causing me to gasped and he chuckled in response as he buttoned up the jacket, “There better?”

I nodded, the Autumn Court Prince gripped my arms and led me to the large bed on the side of the room near the fireplace, “Sleep.” He ordered and I crossed my arms. He looked at me expectantly and rolled his eyes and with a wave of his hand my dress was gone and so was the paint. My body was cleaned, the only thing keeping me covered was his jacket.

I bit my lip and I sighed, “That’s all you want me to do sleep?” I regretted asking the question.

His eyes flashed with rage, “What? Expect me to want to ravish you. To hear you cry and beg me to stop when I force myself upon you?” I flinched and looked at the ground. “I like my women consenting and moaning in pleasure not whimpering in fear. Only low bottom feeders get off on such a cruel act. My father being one of them.” He stilled and my head shot up at the admission he gave.

“Does he do that with your mother?” I asked clearly not worried about my well being.

“I would NEVER let him do something so heinous to her.” He snarled and I held my hands up in surrender.

“I meant no ill will toward the question.” He relaxed his shoulders, “You don’t like your father?”

He smiled and the expression was cold and cruel, “Do you like yours Y/N Archeron?”

I crossed my arms and looked away from his eyes. “No, I don’t” I answered.

If Eris was shocked by my honesty he didn’t let on. “Then it looks like you and I have something in common,” He had gotten close to me enough his body was radiating heat and gripped my chin, “Now go to sleep, My Little Ember.”

“What’s in it for you? For holding me here as your pet for the night?” I asked.

He sighed and looked up at the ceiling, “You’re a mortal. I should hate you. But I’m vowing you to secrecy, you will not tell a soul, do you understand?”

I nodded my head, “Yes.” He quirked a brow waiting, and I rolled my eyes, “Yes, Master.”

He smiled and kissed my head and I grumbled at the gesture. “Good,” he said, and he leaned in and whispered in my ear and my eyes went wide. He pulled away and patted my cheek, “Now go to sleep pet,” He sat at the chair and opened a book.

I moved to the bed and found sleep the moment my head hit the pillow. It was reckless to sleep with someone as dangerous as Eris near me, but I couldn’t fight the comfort of the bed, the warmth of the fire and exhaustion in my bones. My thoughts swirling of Eris’s plan to become High Lord of Autumn Court.

Chapter 8

Story Tags: @hellodarling1357 @hnyclover @waytoomanyteenagefeels @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @esposadomd @sleepylunarwolf @stressed-reader @kylaisra @marvelouslovely-barnes @magicstrengthandcourage @spideytingley @awkardnerd @donttellthecats @tastydewdrops @vermillionwinter @asweetblueberry2 @bunnyredgirl @homeslices @azriels-mate2 @oksloan3 @wallacewillow0773638 @fandom-crashlanding @writingstreetspirit @hannzoaks @minnieloo @tuggboatfishin @judig92 @atrxidxs @dustyinkpages @secretlyhers @mxblobby @blogforficslol @historygeekqueen @turtleshavesoulmates @scooobies @anuttellaa @earth-to-lottie @slytherintaco @fxckmiup @tinystarfishgalaxy @cheesebookgirl @oucereeng @st0rmyt @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @misslunatic1655

[purepure]

Ride a cowboy!!

Boothill X AFAB! Reader

Including, Riding (it’s more him being dom) Metal Dick!! (?), (let’s pretend like it doesn’t hurt okay) Dirty talk, Collar, leash, and handcuffs included in this, biting, ig foreplay um idk, pet names used🙏

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Minors DNI!

A small peak from the window, let out a cool blue light, caused by beautiful lights outside of Penacony. The window was slightly open, letting in fresh air. Occasionally, a child would yell for some reason. But other than that, Penacony was nice and quiet.. Meanwhile, your boyfriend had other plans.

“Aww.. cmon pretty girl, why’d ya stop?” He asked, tugging at that pretty little collar of yours, You said nothing at all. Looking down at his metal chest, Breathing heavily and sweating profusely, that was all. With no response from you, His hand waved in front of your face, Which finally caught your attention. “..huh? o-oh.. what’d you say…?” Boothill sighed and sat up against the headboard, and repositioned yourself on his cock, “Are you just tired of bouncing up and down on me?~” He said with a smirk, slowly grinding himself on you.

“Mmpfh!~- fuck..~” you curse to yourself, because damn.. he really knew how to hit your spots. He tilted his head, staring into your heavy-lidded eyes, “What’s wrong darlin’? Can’t speak for yourself hm?” He leans in closer to your neck, sliding his tongue along the your cold skin. “Don’t worry just let me take control, ‘kay?” You nodded, “o-okay.” Boothill grabbed your waist, and bounced you up and down on his cock. “F-Fuckk.. Angel~ you’re even tighter than before-“ He moaned in your ear, loud and clear. Meanwhile, you were just lost in your own little world. Shamelessly letting out moans, it was just every time you went down on his cock, the tip angled perfectly to your sensitive spot. Like, it’s not your fault that it feels so fucking good?

“Ahnn!~ f-fuck, Boothill..!~” “yeah..~ you like getting dicked down like that?~” You arch your back into him, and throwing your head back. Boothill took your leash and wrapped hisnhand around it, forcing your head forward, once you were close enough, he went in for a kiss. Just to quiet you down and just feeling the need to kiss you during such an intimate moment between the two of you.

You felt like wrapping your arms around him, but couldn’t. Those damn handcuffs just wouldn’t let you, it felt like torture to not embrace your love in an intense moment. But that didn’t matter, you were reaching your high anyway. Boothill pulled away from the long kiss, “ahh..~ you g-getting close- mm.. d-darling?” You didn’t have the strength to say yes out loud. so, you just let a small “yes” followed up with a nod. He chuckled at you and leaned into your neck, hiscold breath met the hot skin. “..come on baby.. cum for me~” he started to nibble at the soft tissue, her sharp teeth grazing on you skin. In response you’re moaned loudly. (god..) “f-fuck..!~ boothill- I’m gonna!- cum!-“ You threw your head back. Those final three thrusts, roughly hit against your g-spot every time, then finally his sticky liquid shot into your pulsing pussy.

Both you and boothill took some time to catch your breaths. He gave you a kiss on the forehead and looked into your eyes, “you did amazing. Good girl..” he chuckled, “if you’re done taking your break, wanna go for round 2..?”

[hyukasmama]

Sub!hueningkai’s top five favorite things

Mommy kink! Kai absolutely LOVES calling you mommy. Most times it’s not in a sexual way. He just loves calling you by your title like it’s some kind of pet name. He tries not to call you mommy in front of his friends or in public, but most times it’ll slip out and he’ll get so unbelievably awkward (more awkward than usual). He will also just melt into a puddle if you call yourself mommy in third person.

Praise kink! Please! Please! Call him a good boy as he pounds into you! He absolutely cannot get enough of it! Pet his head and tell him he’s your beautiful angel; boy will get hard in literal seconds. He will also cum in literal seconds if you whisper how good he’s doing and how good his cock feels in your tight pussy.

Breeding kink! Listen, your boy isn’t ready to have kids and will mostly be scared to death to hear he got you pregnant. Though the fantasy of your tits and belly getting bigger because of him turns him on so fucking much! If he could he would fuck you raw and cum deep into your pussy every time you guys made love. Though as the good boy he is, he wouldn’t do that without your permission. So when you do give him permission it’s like pure heaven.

Petplay! Puppy. That’s what he wants to be to you. Your cute little dumb puppy. Loves wearing collars and leashes just for you. You even got him a custom collar with “Hyuka” on it. Absolutely loves it when you pet his head and rub his tummy while calling him your good pup. If he slips into a deep subspace he’ll bark and whimper for you as he fucks you.

Cuddlefucking! This is Kai’s favorite thing to do when he’s not feeling well or just really wants some romantic sex. He’ll hold on to your waist and bury his face into your neck as he fucks you from behind. He may even get emotional, holding one arm around your waist and holding your hand with the other as a few tears fall from his eyes and he mumbles “I love you”s like it’s all he can possibly say.

Author’s Note: I really hope you enjoyed these headcanons! Thank you so much for reading! And happy birthday Hyuka our little angel!

Author’s Note Update! OMG! Thank you so much for 50 notes in 24 hours! My blog is still new so please comment, reblog or follow to show your support!

Sunoo from ENHYPEN is up next!

[rileyglas]

Can we get part 2 of the cat Lucifer, cat Alastor, and little Adam thing? Like living with them type thing or daily life? It was adorable!!

The sheer chaos that all three of these little counterparts make was fun to explore! Hope you enjoy! Part One can be found here

Meeting their Fandom Counterparts Pt. 2 Alastor, Lucifer, and Adam x gn!reader

Cat Alastor

The morning light just started to peek through the window of your room. You roll over with a stretch, hand reaching for Alastor, “Good morning my - OW FUCK get off!” The cat, if you can even call it that, pounces and embeds its teeth into your arm. You fling it off to the floor, a solid thud resonates across the wood planks. “Al I can’t keep going with this! He won’t even let me near you without going nuts!” 

“He’s protective, that’s all. I’m sure he just needs to warm up to you a bit more. Isn’t that right my boy?” he coos, patting the bed beside him to call the cat back. You roll your eyes and scoff. That thing has been Alastor’s new favorite in the hotel for nearly three weeks now. It has wreaked havoc every day, not to mention the turmoil poor Lucifer has gone through thanks to its antics. “And how much more time do we need before coming to the conclusion he’s a deranged, rabid nuisance?” A scowl crosses your face as you swing your legs over the bed to get up. 

You hear a static filled growl rumble at your words before the cat stretches to a concerning length, curling up and purring in Alastor’s lap. “I’ve grown quite fond of him, my dear. I can’t help that he’s bonded with me.” You groan under your breath, “Can you at least try to keep him away from Lucifer today? The King is starting to get a nervous tick. He could use a break from the torture.” Alastor exhales in acknowledgement but you already know the day you’re in for. 

A few hours later, everyone sits around the table happily munching on breakfast. Lucifer sits across from you, sipping on his coffee quietly. His eye twitches ever so slightly. “Feeling alright, sir?” you ask, noticing his nerves are more fried than ever. Before he can answer he violently jolts,“UHG something BIT me!?” he yells as he pushes his chair back. Alastor’s cat pops up from between his legs with some white material between a disturbing smile.  Both you and Lucifer shoot a glare at Alastor who is chuckling smugly to himself. 

“You need to keep a leash on that thing before I take care of it myself!” Lucifer hisses. Alastor’s eyes flash and he slams his hands to the table, “You will not lay a finger on him!” The two men go nose to nose, arguing (yet again). Angel leans over to you, “That thing chased Fat Nuggets around with a fork last night. Its eyes always have that deranged, unsettling look. I personally wouldn’t mind if the King took care of it.” he whispers. You nod in agreement but sigh, knowing it is one of the few things Alastor has come to love during his time here. There’s no way you could take that away from him. 

You stand and clear your throat, “Al I think Lucifer is right. You need to keep a better eye on him if you want to keep him. Don’t want him running off any potential clients of the hotel, right Mr. Hotelier?” He rolls his eyes, snapping his fingers to conjure a collar and leash. “Fine, I’ll keep him closer for the sake of the hotel.” his voice drops slightly, “But don’t think I am done with allowing him to make some special visits.” 

Lucifer groans as the cat jumps into Alastor’s lap for his collar. The two give a final, eerily similar grin to the King before disappearing into a shadow. “You going to be okay?” you ask Lucifer. He shudders slightly, examining the new hole in his slacks. You hear a small chuckle leave his throat, “Yeah…I think I’m going to go get a dog today. A big one.”

Cat Lucifer

“Honey I really don’t know if a bow tie is necessary -” Lucifer tries to convince you but you wave him off as you adjust the tiny tie attached to the white cat’s collar, “Come on! He looks like a little distinguished gentleman, don’t you Luci?” “Stop calling him that!” he grumbles, arms crossed across his chest. The smallest pout on his lips makes you melt pitifully, “Now my love, don’t tell me you’re jealous? You’re still the number one man in my life.” Still holding the cat, you lean over and kiss Lucifer’s cheek. 

A light blush crosses his face with a small grin, “I know. I guess I just feel so disconnected lately. I’m sorry.” Luci hops out of your arms and paws at Lucifer’s coat tail. A sudden idea makes your face light up. “Why don’t you make him a toy? You’re locked in your office so much - maybe it can be a little side project to help bring you closer?”

The cat stares up at the King, eyes glossed over and a small droplet of drool dangling off its chin. Lucifer sneers, “Are you sure he even understands what a toy is?” You smooth his coat and push him out the door, “Just consider it, please? Have a good day dear.” A week later, as usual, Lucifer was working overtime every night. You’re grateful you at least have the small fluff ball to keep you company, even if Luci is a little on the dim side. You’ve witnessed him attack his own feet and roll off the bed multiple times, hitting the ground with a disgruntled huff of defeat. He’s even taken a few swipes at Fat Nuggets. When the pig turned to chase him his wings would puff out in an attempt to ‘fly’ away. The poor thing just looked as though he was having a seizure, flailing and flapping around on the floor, going nowhere. Let’s just say - he’s lucky he’s cute. 

Lucifer finally comes in one evening sporting a smug grin, “My dear! Introducing my new creation!” He extends his hand out holding a small white rubber duck with cat ears and a red bow tie, “It’s a duck..cat..thing but more importantly, I installed little wheels underneath so he can chase it to his heart's content!”

He sets the duck down in front of Luci. The cat noses it, hissing when he hears the whirling of the gears that make the duck slide across the hardwood floor. Lucifer’s shoulder stoop, “Damn, I really thought he would like it.” he admits with a hint of sadness. You pat his shoulder, “Give him a moment - oh see! He loves it!” Luci begins to roll around and chirp playfully. After a few moments he pounces (clumsily), catching it between his fangs. The cat proudly struts over to Lucifer and sets the toy at his feet. He bends down to scratch between Luci’s ears, “Hmpf. You’re welcome little guy!”

Your plan for Lucifer to bond seems to backfire slightly. Before you know it, not only is your boyfriend missing nearly every night, but you’ve noticed Luci hasn’t come to bed with you as usual. After a few nights of this, you sneak down the hall to peek into the King’s office. You can’t help but giggle at the scene before you.  Lucifer works hard at his desk, with one drawer pulled out next to him. You notice a small blanket stuffed inside and on top is Luci, curled up comfortably and purring. His little white duck tucked safely under his paw. Every now and then Lucifer’s hand finds the cat to give it a few pats. Well…at least someone has company.

Little Adam

The deal of not allowing Little Adam to come home didn’t last long. The day after he showed up you stand at the stove cooking dinner when you feel a small pinch on your ass. “Well hello to - what the HEAVENS is he doing here!?” You turn around expecting your Adam only to see the little shit making obscene grabbing motions with his hands.

“I couldn’t leave him again! He was scared!” Adam defends loudly then grumbles something under his breath. “What was that dear?” you prod, knowing there’s more to the story. He turns away, embarrassed, “Well…he also might have destroyed the main office while I was gone…and now has a few formal complaints I will have to deal with…”

You cross your arms, “Mhm. And?” Little Adam crawls up your legs and under your shirt. “Hey - NO! OUT!” your words fall on deaf ears as he snuggles into the warmth of your chest. “See he loves you just as much as I do! Please, let’s keep him here?” Adam flashes a coy smile that you, of course, can’t say no to. 

It was easy to see why there were so many complaints about Little Adam. Over the course of a few days he ate every snack in the house, groped you anytime he could, and left a mess in any room he was in for more than a minute. You are at your wits end but continue to put up with it for the sake of Adam’s happiness. 

That is until tonight. Adam came home in a frisky mood and you welcomed his advances. He no more than got his robe off before Little Adam snuck his way into your bed, obnoxiously cheering his bigger self on. “Nope, that’s not going to happen.” You say as you flick him off the bed. His wings pop out and he flutters around Adam’s head. 

“Babe common, it’s just a little me. Not like he can tell anyone what we do. Besides, it’s fuckin’ sick to have a little fan.” Adam says excitedly but his smile drops when he sees how pissed off you are. He hunches his shoulders, “Uhg fine. Sorry little dude. You’ve gotta go.” Little Adam squeaks in protest when Adam plucks him by his wings and throws him outside the bedroom. 

Guilt begins to eat at you. On one hand, you couldn’t have that thing destroying the house everyday and terrorizing you. But Adam has grown attached. There had to be a way to make everyone happy. He was bound to just be lonely and need company. That’s when it hits you. 

“Whatcha workin on sugar?” Adam asks, kicked back on the couch next to you. “I’m actually just finishing up.” You mutter as you make the final stitch and show Adam a small stuffed doll that has your resemblance. “I figured Little Adam needed a Little Me to keep him company. It’ll be cute…hopefully.”

You set up a small bed across your room for the tiny terror to sleep in. The last thing you wanted was to accidentally squish him in the night. Little Adam hops up and down in the bed excitedly as you set the doll next to him. He immediately snuggles it with a huge smile. “Awe he loves it! You did good babe.” Adam chuckles and wraps an arm around you. “Maybe now he’ll leave us alone. He probably was just in need of a frien - uhg great. Now he’s humping it.” You roll your eyes and walk away in disgust. “He’s definitely you.” you poke angrily at Adam who is nearly falling over from laughter. At this point, you’re just glad you found something to keep Little Adam out of trouble. 

[changbunnies]

If You Call Me (18+)

♡ Pairing: Bad Boy!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: heavy angst, fluff, very slice of life at times, strangers to friends to lovers, mutual pining, college au, slow burn, eventual smut, kind of love at first sight?, basically my take on the ever classic misunderstood bad boy x good girl trope

♡ Word Count: 43.8k

♡ Summary: After spending much of her high school life mercilessly bullied, Y/N hoped that going to college would finally allow her to move on from her past and put the pain behind her. Her hopes are crushed when it becomes apparant that the biggest perpetrator doesn't intend on letting the past stay the past– that is, until she gets unexpectedly rescued by the one person her past bullies seem to fear messing with, and he promises to protect her whenever she calls him.

♡ Warnings: flashbacks to bullying, physical assault, implied sexual assault (nothing is explicitly written, only described vaguely), past / referenced parental death (not described), chan has more than a bit of a savior complex tbh lol, self-worth issues and self-destructive behavior, an abundance of strong language, discussions around depression / being depressed, brief descriptions of blood and injury, theft.

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): petnames (baby, angel), implied loss of virginity (reader), as usual for my works there is so much kissing, nipple play, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), handjob, multiple orgasms, protected piv (shocking)

♡ Notes: please keep in mind that heavy topics and traumatizing events of various type are a main theme of this fic, so please read with discretion! heed the warnings and don't force yourself to read something you can't handle and won't enjoy! other than that, you can also read the story on my a03 where it is divided into chapters here updated 08/30/24: formatting fixes, slight changes to scenes and dialogue for improved cohesion

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

Isolation, exile, a profound sense of loneliness. Those are the feelings you are used to, the feelings that have permeated your being and seeped into the very foundations of who you are as a person. And you weren't always this way– in fact, you can pinpoint the exact moment in time where a sad, loathful existence became all you knew.

It began a little over 3 years ago, when you started your first day of high school. That first spring semester came upon you quickly, and while you were anxious to begin, there was an almost equal level of excitement. You unfortunately were arriving alone, with your friends from middle school having spread out to various different schools that suited either their families or their own ambitions for their future.

While you would have liked to go to the same prestigious schools as some of your friends, your father simply didn’t have the money to pay for that sort of thing. On top of that, admissions were fiercely competitive, and being intelligent didn’t matter if you weren’t in the top 1% lucky enough to earn yourself a scholarship. You needed to be perfect in every single way to be considered for the honor, and that’s something you simply weren’t, and would never be.

Maybe that was bleak, but you preferred to keep your hopes and expectations grounded in realism. You wouldn’t say that you lacked confidence necessarily– just that you know what is a realistic outcome and what isn’t.

And realistically, what were the chances of a miracle happening? Slim to none. So you tempered your expectations, you kept your hope on a leash, and you continued to have mundane hopes and dreams.

So it wasn’t arriving at your new, average school alone that made you the way you are now; you’d made your peace with that long before it happened. Sure, you would miss the friends you made in your younger years, but high school is supposed to be the place with the most opportunity.

As long as you gave it your best effort, you’d make new friends and new memories. You’d discover what your goals for the future are, you’d work towards them with earnesty and diligence, you’d make your father proud.

At least, that was your mindset going into it; and maybe those thoughts were a bit more optimistic than your usual, but they weren’t unrealistic by any means. All those hopes were tangible and achievable, nothing about them should have been out of reach or unobtainable.

And it wasn’t like you were losing contact with your friends forever– cellphones existed, and it would only be a matter of time before a free weekend arrived for you to meet up with them again. So all in all, you’d felt good. Sure, your circumstances weren’t the most ideal, but you were more than capable of making the best of them.

That’s what you thought at the time, anyways. Despite the perceived realism of your wishes, it quickly became clear to you that life had other intentions for you in the name of Park Jaehyung. A boy in the same class as you, who took a keen interest in you for reasons beyond your understanding.

It started with you noticing that he was often looking at you. You’d look up from your textbook or notes, eyes aimed at the board or your teacher for further instruction, and you’d notice his gaze in your peripheral vision. It didn’t bother you necessarily; you were friendless after all, and you thought maybe he was just trying to figure out if he should approach you.

You knew first hand how shyness or doubts could make a decision you really wanted to make more difficult than it needed to be, and the simple act of approaching a person for friendship could become the most nerve racking experience of your life.

You even considered approaching him first to make it easier on him. There were plenty of times you were able to be the brave friend simply because you wanted to help, moments where all anxieties were trumped by the simple desire to help a friend.

However, he ended up approaching you first in the end, on an otherwise uneventful Friday. Most of your classmates left quickly, eager to get a start on their weekends or meetup with fellow club members for practice for their upcoming events.

You were nervous as he approached but not necessarily in a negative way; at the time, you had no reason to believe he had any bad intentions with you. In fact, you were excited at the prospect of finally making a friend in your new environment after weeks of being awkward around everyone.

You were so ignorantly optimistic.

When you finished tucking your things away and lifted your head to look at Jaehyung, you met him with a smile. The conversation was pleasant at first, albeit a bit mundane. Simple small talk such as “how did you do on the test,” “how do you like the school,” and things of that nature.

You don’t remember how long you two talked like that, but what you do remember is the shift in atmosphere when his friends came into the room looking for him.

“What are you still doing in here, Jae? We’ve– Oh?” you remember one of his friends saying as he stepped into the room, pausing his sentence when he noticed the two of you stood at your desk talking.

The shift in Jaehyung’s expression was shockingly instant, the positivity of the boy in front of you quickly warping into an animosity that you could hardly comprehend. The friend, who you recognized as a boy who sat in the back of the classroom, let out a laugh as he stood in the doorway.

“I knew it! You do like her,” the boy chuckled with a smug expression. Jaehyung scowled as he turned away to face his friend's direction. “I told you, I don’t. I was just telling her to stay away from me,” he spits at his friend, “She’s obsessed with me.”

You were stunned, blood running cold as you looked at him in bewilderment. You just spent the last several minutes talking pleasantly and laughing, and now he’s lying about it right in front of you? So blatantly? Why?

Before you could even open your mouth to defend yourself, his friend laughed loudly. “I told you, you need to stop playing with the easy ones. They get way too attached, man.” He’d said as Jaehyung stepped away from you quickly, making his way to the door with haste.

You simply watched, the words playing in a loop in your brain. Jaehyung took one last glance at you before the pair of them exited the room, leaving you by yourself with your thoughts running a mile a minute. Easy? Easy how? Because you were alone all the time? Because you’re shy?

You didn’t really understand why his friend said that, or why Jae’s attitude changed so quickly. Naively, you started to think that maybe it was all a big misunderstanding, and you could clear it up on Monday when you saw him again. It was unlikely, but the shift in tone was so sudden that you really had nothing else to grasp onto to make sense of it.

But Monday came, and it was immediately clear to you that the pleasant Jaehyung you’d known for a short time was entirely fake. He’d approach you with venom, antagonize you any chance he got, his friends always cackling in the background. He’d call you names and push you around, a sick enjoyment clear on his face every time.

You’d wondered if this was his intention all along; to make you like him, to spend time with you because you were vulnerable before he’d turn it all around on you and embarrass you. His friend walking in on you in the classroom probably just sped things up a bit, and made him lose the need to build trust with you first.

Some days you’d be lucky, able to avoid them by bolting out of the room the minute the bell rang. Of course there were still times they caught up to you or got you into a corner, but for the most part, the strategy had worked.

Eventually though, that method became nearly impossible as they got used to the trick and found ways to get you in a corner consistently. You only ever managed to catch a break on days that they needed to stay behind for detention or to be disciplined by the staff.

You hoped, you prayed, harder than you ever had for anything, that one day they would grow tired of tormenting you and just leave you alone. That staff would actually help you instead of turning a blind eye, only intervening when the boys’ actions inconvenienced their ability to work. You prayed they’d get suspended, expelled even– an unrealistic hope you knew would never come true, as little of a priority to the school’s staff as you were.

But hope was all you had then. In those incredibly dark days, where your life was the hardest it had ever been, you’d started to see the appeal of having outlandish dreams. It was comforting to imagine a world where everything about your life was perfect, where you'd easily obtained your goals and led the life you had always dreamed of, free of hurt and sadness.

There was no comfort in being a realist, no solace in the tangible. And you were tired. Not the physical kind of tired that came with a hard day's work, but mentally.

You were exhausted from the constant abuse, the unending loneliness, the hopelessness that was laid out so plainly in front of you. And so you would hope; hope for a better day, an easier existence, a friend.

You hoped that you’d be a braver person than you were the day before, hoped that one day the school would finally take action, hoped that one day Jae would get bored of you and finally leave you alone. You knew painfully well how improbable it was, but it was all you had.

All of it was out of your control, no matter what you did or how hard you prayed; it didn’t matter, it wouldn’t change, but even still you couldn’t let go of that hope. It was around that time however, that you realized there was something you could control– your academic scores. If you just devoted yourself to studying, to doing well on tests and keeping up your GPA, you could get yourself into a good school and put all this behind you.

You didn’t get into as good of a school as you would have liked, the strain that Jaehyung’s bullying put on your brain made studying a herculean effort, but you managed to do well enough to get accepted into a decent college just outside the city. It was enough- as long as you stuck to campus, you’d likely never see Jae again. He’d stay in the city, doing god knows what, and you’d get the fresh start you desperately needed, away from the person that made you miserable.

It's been 6 months since you moved into the campus dorms and began attending classes. Your roommates already knew each other, having been childhood friends who promised to go to the same school, but they never made you feel left out or like an outsider in your shared dorm room. They were kind, funny, and outgoing, and it would be no exaggeration to say they adopted you, bringing you out of your shell bit by bit and helping you return to the person you used to be.

There’s still pain, sadness, and loneliness, of course. Those feelings don’t just go away, but for the first time in years you began to feel.. Happy. Like things were finally going your way.

You could breathe without needing to constantly look over your shoulder, or be perpetually afraid of when a moment of happiness would inevitably crumble. You could finally live. The universe seemed to want to have a laugh at your expense, however– because what would be more ironic and tragic than bringing you back to the person you hate most.

You’d never been to a party– not entirely by choice, but because the opportunity had never come your way, solitary and friendless as you were. And now that you were in college, where the surroundings are rife with parties and carefree nights, it just felt.. Unnatural for you to be involved.

Like you were trying to blend where you didn’t belong, and that everyone would see through you. They would recognize you for what you were all through high school; a girl desperate for friends that no one ultimately cared about.

But your roommates, the social butterflies that they were, insisted that you come with them after excitedly telling you of the invite they received. You protested at first, feeling like you'd be much too awkward and out of place in the situation to have any fun, but they were tireless in their efforts to convince you to go with them.

And really, you couldn't blame them for trying so hard– you'd told them about your desire to branch out, to make more friends and experience new things, and a party was arguably one of the best places to do that. So you conceded in the end, letting them help you plan your outfit and be your guides through what was supposed to be a fun, new experience. 

And it was fun– for a time. Your friends helped you come out of your shell the most you’d ever had, introducing you to other people they knew either from their classes or from the clubs they were part of. You felt included, like you were finally part of a group, like you no longer had to be the person who watched from afar while others mingled and laughed together. 

It’s almost funny how that feeling of belonging and joy you finally felt came crashing down on you in an instant. You didn’t see him at first, and if you had, you definitely wouldn’t have separated yourself from your friends. You were supposed to be gone just a moment, a quick run to the bathroom and refresh of your drink before you’d rejoin them.

But there Jae was, standing near the stairs that led up to the bathroom, chatting with the same group of friends he’d had in high school. Your mind reeled, blood chilling as your eyes settled on him for the first time since graduation. You stood frozen for a moment, body being bumped by those trying to dance or move past you as the music continued to blare.

You suddenly became conscious of every little thing– the volume of the music in your ears, the amount of people standing between you and him, how the hairs on your neck and arm began to stand on end. You could feel the way your palms clammed up as you closed your fingers into a fist, and the thumping of your heart became loud and erratic, to the point it began to drown out everything else.  

You tried to rationalize with yourself, to calm your screaming nerves and bring your racing heart under your control. He hadn’t noticed you, and if you were lucky, and quick, he wouldn’t at all. Besides, you weren’t the same person you were in high school. You had friends now, a new home and a new life. He couldn’t torment you anymore– you wouldn’t let him. 

You take a breath, steeling yourself to walk past the man who brought you so much misery, and hope for the best. Your legs felt like lead, each step taking excruciating effort to complete. You try to keep your head down, letting your hair fall over your face to hide your recognizable features as much as possible.

You look up as you reach the steps, realizing that you’re unconsciously holding your breath as you do. Your eyes meet– not Jae’s, but his friends. And you can tell by the way he laughs, one of disbelief as much as it is amusement, that he recognizes you easily. “What?” you hear Jae question as he turns his head to see what his friend is reacting to, his eyes landing squarely on you. 

Dread is the only word that can be used to describe what you feel when his eyes meet yours. Your reaction is immediate, panic settling in as you rush past them, and dart up the stairs. You just had to make it to the bathroom, and then everything would be fine. And you do, closing the door shut quickly behind you and locking it with a loud click.

You take a moment to breathe, to think with clarity now that you were within the safe space of a closed, locked room. You’re not proud of the visceral reaction seeing Jae gave you, the way you ran as soon as soon as his gaze locked on you.

You wonder how you looked to the others settled around the steps– hopefully, just like a drunk girl in desperate need for the bathroom, instead of a dreadfully panicked one. Regardless, your dash up the steps was certainly unceremonious and embarrassing, and you hate the thought that it gave Jae or any of his friends a laugh.

You let out a sigh, pulling out your phone to text your friends, hoping they’re not too drunk or that the music is too loud for them to hear their phones. You do your business, wash your hands, check your appearance in the mirror. You check your phone, and then check it again, and then once more, but no response from your friends ever comes through. 

You sigh, knowing you can’t camp out in the bathroom much longer than you have already. There are loads of people here, and someone’s going to need it sooner or later. And besides, he surely wouldn’t still target you now that you were all grown adults, right?

It’s likely he didn’t even follow after you, and is just laughing that even now you’re still afraid of him. You moved on, and surely he has to– you can’t let your fear of him control you the way it did when you were in school together. 

With another breath to calm your nerves, you unlock and open the door, and see that a small line did in fact start to build in front of the bathroom door while you were holed up inside of it. You offer an apology to the people waiting as you move past to allow the first person in, making your way quickly back towards the steps in the hopes that Jae is either no longer in that area, or has no interest in you anymore, and that you can return to where your friends are without issue. 

But of course, he’s there, standing at the top of the steps, very clearly waiting for you. Your heart sinks to your stomach, the smile that spreads on his face making you sick. “Long time no see, huh?” he says as he takes a step closer to you, his light, airy voice a stark contrast to the intentions you know he has. You don’t respond, which he takes as his sign to continue. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Don’t you want to catch up?” 

“I need to get back to my friends,” you say, finally finding your voice after the initial shock. It’s not as strong as you’d like, but considering you’ve never stood up for yourself before now, it’s enough to show how much you’ve changed since he last saw you.

“Oh, you have friends now? That’s interesting,” he responds easily, taking what little pride for yourself you fostered and crushing it beneath his heel. Before you realize it, your back is pressed against the nearest door, Jae closing the distance between you with proficient ease.

Your breath catches in your throat, eyes darting to the side where the line for the bathroom remains unchanged. If you made a scene, would they help you? You honestly weren’t sure; they were all strangers to you, with varying levels of intoxication affecting them, and from their perspective, you and Jae could easily appear to be a couple sharing an intimate moment before trying to sneak away to a room. The thought alone makes your stomach churn. 

“Oh don’t worry about them, they won’t interrupt,” Jae says, that same sickeningly smug smile on his face as he seemingly has the same thought you just had. You know what comes next- his hands on you, a contact you loathe above all else, that makes your skin scream and recoil.

Things were supposed to be different now. You weren’t supposed to ever see him again, but maybe you were a fool for believing that you created enough distance from him for that to be the case. But you didn’t come this far to be the same person you were then- you were supposed to be different, to be strong.

You want to be strong, to have the courage to stand up for yourself and tell him to go fuck himself. If you don’t act now, then what was it all for? You can’t let yourself go back to the meek person who just accepted it whenever she was hurt. You clench your fists, you gather your courage, and for the first time ever, you raise your voice to him. “Don’t fucking touch me.” 

He doesn’t take you seriously in the slightest, laughing as if your words mean nothing as he reaches his hand out to touch you. In a moment of unparalleled bravery on your part, you slap it away, conveying clearly that you won’t allow him to torment you anymore. There’s surprise in his eyes for a moment, though it fades as quickly as it appeared, replaced by seething anger.

He wraps your hair in his fist, holding your head back with so much force that a searing ache spreads over your scalp. “You wanna try that again? I don't think you're thinking clearly." Jaehyung's voice is dark and threatening as he holds your head in place.

So now he’s taking you seriously, huh? You glare at him, tears pricking the corner of your eyes as your fists tremble, 3 years worth of contempt rising forth all at once, practically begging to be set free, to be unleashed on the awful man before you who made your life a living hell. 

You were still scared of him, if you were being honest with yourself, but you had to be different. You had to. He was much stronger, his grip on you was painful, but if you gave up now, then what was it all for? Your perseverance had to mean something, it had to lead you to somewhere better, to help you become someone you were proud to be. You can’t let it be meaningless. 

You’re about to open your mouth to scream, determined to make a scene that can’t go ignored by anyone in the vicinity, when a voice you don’t recognize calls to Jaehyung, taking you both by surprise. “What the fuck are you doing?” the unfamiliar voice call from the direction of the stairs, and you’re able to turn your head just enough to see someone standing at the top of them, arms crossed with an incredulous look on his face.

“Shit,” you hear Jaehyung mutter under his breath when he turns his gaze away from you, looking at the man who is (thankfully) interrupting the moment. “What are you doing here?” Jae asks as he slowly loosens his grip on your hair, his teeth clenching as he begrudgingly releases you from his grasp.

“Don’t tell me you came to this party not knowing you’re in my fucking house. That’s my room you’re blocking, so move,” the man says, voice stern and unflinching. Jaehyung’s expression in response is strange– he’s very clearly annoyed, angry, but there’s something else there too that you’ve never seen on him.

He’s… intimidated? “Oh c'mon, man. You don’t mind letting an old friend borrow your room, right?” Jae’s voice turns jovial, a vain attempt at familiarity and friendliness. The stranger’s expression changes, a scoff leaving his lips as he looks at Jae in disbelief. 

The man looks at you next, observing your body language and quickly processing what it tells him. You’re very clearly distressed, body trembling, eyes angry and glossy with unshed tears; you want out of this, and now.

“Doesn’t seem to me that she’s into you,” the stranger says matter-of-factly, stating the truth of the matter as he sees it. “And you’re insane if you think I’m letting you use my room for this shit– or anyone’s for that matter.” 

“She’s just shy, isn’t that right? You’re not used to us being interrupted?” Jae says it with a sickly sweet smile before he turns his gaze back to you, leaning closer as his next words leave him in a whisper intended for only you to hear, a not so thinly veiled threat for you to play along with him, “I’m not done with you yet.” 

If it were the you of half a year ago, you probably would have buckled under the pressure, yielded to whatever it was he wanted from you. You would’ve been too afraid of the repercussions that would follow if you didn’t, afraid of what worse action he’d have in store for you if you didn’t listen to his commands. 

And that’s what Jae wants– he wants to put that fear back inside you, to remind you of all that he made you feel, all that he caused you to lose, to turn you back into the person he knew and expected you to be.

You refuse to give him the satisfaction. “Get the fuck away from me,” you say, doing your best to make your voice as steady as you can possibly make it. You can feel the rage radiating off him, and you have to admit, it’s extremely gratifying to watch him struggle, to see him flounder after being challenged.

He storms off, anger and bitterness seeping off him, as the man who saved you steps aside to let him pass– though Jae still manages to shoulder checks the stranger angrily on his way out. A sigh of relief leaves you once your tormentor is out of sight, thankful for the ordeal to finally be over.

“Are you alright?” the stranger who evidentially lives here asks as he takes a tentative step closer to you, clearly not wanting to make you feel boxed in and cornered the way Jaehyung had.

“Yeah, I’m fine, thank you,” you say as you separate yourself from what you remember is apparentally his bedroom door, fixing your clothes in the places that Jae caused it to crumple. 

When you look up, you see that he is looking you over for any noticeable injury– whoever he is, it’s apparent he knows who Jaehyung is and how he does things. It also makes you curious about how they know each other, and what it is about him that made Jae leave without putting up a real fight. 

He has dark curly hair that pairs well with his piercing gaze, but you didn't find him particularly frightening based on appearance alone. In fact, you actually thought he'd look sweet if he wasn't frowning so hard right now.

He did seem quite athletic though, and you could see how bulky his arms were underneath the sleeves of his black tee. Maybe it was the difference in strength that deterred him? Jae is stronger than you, sure, but he wasn’t as built as the stranger who saved you.

Or maybe Jae is simply all bark, and no bite? That’d be ironic– your biggest tormentor being someone who is inherently a coward. But isn’t that how it usually goes? The weak preying on the weaker for the sake of gratification and a sense of superiority they wouldn’t otherwise obtain.

And who better to play that role for him than you? You, who was lonely and eager to make a friend, who was too timid and kind for her own good, and without the inner strength to fight back. 

“You’re welcome to join me in my room, if you want. Uhm, not in like, a weird way or anything– just to make sure Jae will leave you alone if he's still around. We’ll leave the door open so you’re comfortable and– uh, yeah.” You can’t help but smile a little following his suggestion– it’s a little awkward, but well intentioned, and you appreciate the attempt he’s making to comfort you following a tense interaction. 

You follow him inside, and true to his word, he makes no move to close the door behind you, leaving it wide open and looking out into the adjacent hallway. Looking around, you notice that his room is more.. Minimalistic than you would’ve expected from a college aged guy. A decently sized bed, a bookshelf that contained more empty space than anything, a desk that held only a laptop and a rather old looking stuffed wolf toy that you assumed was from his childhood. 

There was no clutter, no mess, no decoration– nothing that tells you a guy in his early 20s occupies the space. Apart from the led lights circling the ceiling, the walls are bare, with no pictures or posters to give insight into his interests or personality. “You can sit wherever,” he says, intending to let you have first pick for comfort’s sake. 

You decide to sit at his desk, concluding that it's the better of your two options, and he flops on his bed, eyes on the ceiling as a slight sigh leaves his lips. “Regretting throwing a party?” you ask, noticing how exhausted he seems to be– dark circles under his eyes serving as a clear sign that something in his life is causing him fatigue and lack of sleep. 

“It’s not my party, it’s my brothers. The whole party thing isn’t really for me, but he wants the “whole college experience” or whatever, so, you know.. Yeah,” he closes his eyes for a moment as he speaks, seeming to think about what he wants to say before he continues to speak. “He won't have time for things like this once the fall semester starts, so why not let him have his fun until then? That’s what I think, anyways.” 

You nod, silently wondering if his brother is anyone you met downstairs, though you don’t recall meeting anyone that looks similar to him. “Do you both go to school here?” you ask, thinking it’d be nice if they do– you could do with some more friends in your life, especially ones that go to the same campus you do. 

“Oh, no, I–” he hesitates a moment, an almost indiscernible look on his face as he slightly tenses, just enough for you to gather that this topic is a bit tense for him. “I dropped out. Of high school, I mean. The whole school thing doesn’t suit me– got enough bills to pay and things to take care of without that added expense and worry, you know?”

You get it– you honestly do. Dropping out is a hard decision to make, one that society doesn’t understand comes with great personal grief and difficulty. Most people who drop out don’t do it because they want to, but because they have to, or feel there’s no other choice in the face of whatever it is they’re dealing with.

There was even a time you considered it; when your bullying was at its worst, and before you found solace in pouring all your energy into studying. “I completely understand; I almost dropped out too. And I wouldn’t even be going to school now if it wasn’t for my scholarship.”

“Really?” he sits up now, surprise written on his face as he looks at you. “Yeah, I– ..didn’t have the best high school experience,” you sigh, hesitating to meet his gaze right away. He’s a stranger to you, you don’t know what happened to him, and he doesn’t know what happened to you, but there’s a strange sort.. Connection you feel? 

Like kindred spirits– two souls who lived different lives, who are on a different path, but somehow are still the same. You look at him again, realizing you don’t feel the need to hesitate or hold back your words. There’s something about him that seems trustworthy, and the sincere empathy in his eyes makes you believe that he’s someone you can confide in without regrets. 

“I was depressed, alone. I had no friends, and I don’t mean it felt that way, I literally didn’t have anyone. And Jaehyung, he– well, you saw. It was like that every single day, unrelenting. Studying was the only thing I had to escape my thoughts and feelings, so I poured everything I had into my grades. I started to view college as an escape– like if I got accepted, all my problems would be solved. I could start over, be a different person,” you swallow, emotions threatening to choke you up as you talk about your experience, but you continue on despite it. 

“Unfortunately, schools are competitive, and recruiters could easily see that despite having good enough grades, I didn’t have the confidence or social standing to back myself up, so they chose other people. But the school here accepted me, and even though it’s still close to where I grew up I hoped it would be enough. I could meet new people, get away from everything that brought me down, and become the person I always wanted to be. And I have– you know, for the most part anyways.”

There’s a silence that lingers for a moment, one that makes you start to feel stupid for deciding to unload all that information on someone you just met, but when you meet his eyes again you no longer feel shame. As before, there is a sincere empathy, an understanding, a care, that you’d never experienced before now. 

You never talked about Jae to anyone new you met, and even your friends only know about him in the vaguest of terms because it was so hard to relive and talk about openly. But the person you met today– he saw it, in its rawest, unfiltered form, and he cared. Genuinely cared. And when you think back to all the times someone saw what was happening and ignored it, knew you were suffering and didn’t think twice about it, that care matters. 

He looks contemplative as well; like he’s thinking carefully on his words, and what impact they’ll have, as if formatting the perfect response to your admission is of crucial importance to him. And in a way, it is, because even though he’s just met you, he sees you for who you are– someone like him. Damaged. Lonely. Yearning for a connection that doesn’t yet exist, but could if you found the right person. 

He opens his mouth to speak, the words he wants to say on the tip of his tongue, but is quickly interrupted and drowned out by your phone suddenly ringing. You pull it out of your pocket quickly, and see your friend's name and photo brightly illuminated on the screen.

“Y/N? I’m so sorry, I just saw your text! Are you still upstairs? I’ll come get you–” your friend comes through loud and urgent, doing her best to be heard over the loud music that surrounds her downstairs. 

“I’m fine, I promise! Where are you right now? I’ll meet you,” you assure her as you stand up from your seat, preparing yourself to leave the room. The conversation ends quickly, with you confirming with each other that you’ll meet at the base of the stairs and then head home together. 

“I’ll get going now, my friends are waiting for me, but.. before I go I just wanna say thank you for tonight, uhm..” your sentence trails off as a realization hits you. Right. You still don’t know his name yet. Thankfully, he seems to know where you’re going, and offers his name to you before you have to ask. “Chan,” he says simply, “I’m Bang Chan.” 

You smile as you repeat his name, offering your own afterwards to which he acknowledges with a nod. You make it to the door before you stop, turning back to look at him one last time before you go. “I’ll see you around..?” you ask, hoping you don't come across as too desperate to meet him again. 

“Mm, yeah, sure,” Chan replies nonchalantly, though the corners of his mouth raise in the hint of a smile. And though it’s only a slight display, it makes you smile back at him. Because even though he comes across as aloof and reserved, you've gotten the impression that he's a nice person underneath his layers. 

You found yourself thinking a lot about him when you were in bed that night; wondering about who he is beyond what you initially see, about what makes him who he is and drives what he does. Someone who is clearly empathetic beneath their rough exterior, who has compassion even for those he doesn't know, someone you want to befriend. You hoped you'd meet and talk to him again soon. 

You sigh as you approach Sunshine Cafe, your go-to stop for coffee and a sweet breakfast before beginning your day in earnest. The fall semester has spared you no mercy since it began weeks ago, with your new professors hitting you with an increasingly grueling workload and frustratingly tight deadlines.

You’ve barely had time for anything, and your daily coffee is truly the only thing getting you through the immense amount of homework and academic papers that’ve been dropped into your lap. It also occurred to you that you greatly overestimated your ability to run into Chan again.

You thought it’d only be a matter of time, at first. Though he doesn’t attend the local college like you and his brother do, he still has a house near campus, and even if meeting at another party was unlikely, there were still plenty of places you could end up seeing one another. And yet, either due to the amount of work that needed done keeping you home, or Chan himself also having a busy schedule, that time never came. 

Should you have just asked for his number before you left? It’s something you’d think about since that night, wondering if that would’ve been too forward or made him uncomfortable, because who knows if he wanted to be your friend as much as you wanted to be his. There was a lot you liked about Chan following your first interaction with him, but was there anything he liked about you? 

It was hard to say; you certainly hoped so, but you weren’t exactly confident in your ability to make connections with people. Apart from that, a search of his name online didn’t lead to any social media platforms you could add or follow him on.

A bit strange for someone his age to be completely void of a social media presence you might think, but he didn’t really seem the type to spend his days scrolling instagram or writing personal posts on twitter in the first place. 

And honestly, wasn’t it silly to be so stuck on someone you’d met and talked to so briefly? You were broaching pathetic territory if you were being honest with yourself, but you truly couldn’t help it. There was something different about him, and not in that corny love at first sight way your friends might assume if you brought the issue up to them. You could see it in the way he interacted with you and listened to you. 

The more you thought about it though, the more embarrassed you felt about it; why did you unload your deepest feelings on a stranger? Because having a little bit of alchol in your system made you uninhibited enough to feel the need to bare your entire heart? Because he was nice to you?

That’s so pitiful, you’d laugh at yourself if it wasn’t so depressing. Even if you did run into him again, it’d probably be best to avoid his gaze, and save yourself from the realization that he actually thought you were a fucking weirdo, and only listened to you to be polite. 

God, you were spiraling– one minute thinking it’d be best if he never saw you again, and the next praying he’d show up in your life regardless, even if just for a moment. But really, you just wanted to know– know for sure if you just imagined the way he cared to make yourself better, or if what you felt then was real. And if it was real, why? 

No one ever protected you before, and it was hard for you to imagine a world where someone would do that for you purely out of the kindness of their heart. You know selfless, compassionate people exist, but not for you.

Even with the friends you had now, you’d hesitate to believe that they’d do anything for you beyond the surface level of friendship. And that was no fault of their own, of course; you knew it was a response to your own trauma that led you to think that way. But now that you were met with the evidence that someone could be kind to you purely for the sake of it, you struggled to grapple with it. 

You could argue that your friends are nice to you purely because you’re also assigned roommates, and you needed to have a good relationship for your home life to be copasetic. They introduced you to the people in their life because living in their space meant you’d be around them as well, and by extension they were only nice to you because they needed to be. But Chan– what reason did he have to do anything for you? To listen to you or offer kindness? 

He wasn’t the first person to show you kindness after you came here, but he was the first to do so with seemingly no explanation behind it. To be kind and help you just because it was what was right, and for no reason other than that– that’s what made him different, and made you want to see him again, to get to know him.

Another sigh leaves your lips now as you stand in line, waiting to order. You really need to stop dwelling on it and focus on more critical things at hand, i.e your paper that's due tonight and still needs to be proofread.

Yes, it’s best to do what you’re used to doing, and pour all your frustrations and worries into getting yourself the best grades you possibly can. You’ll head back to your dorm as soon as your coffee is in hand, and spend the rest of your morning (and a good portion of your afternoon) into ensuring that your paper is as perfect as it can be. 

Felix, the blonde, freckled barista who has come to memorize your order, smiles sweetly as soon as he sees you. “Here’s your usual,” he says as he hands it over to you the moment you reach the counter; benefits to being a regular, and a creature of habit, you suppose– he always has your order ready for you by the time you make it to the front of the line. “Thanks, I really need it today,” you reply as you put your card in the reader to pay. 

“Professor still kicking your ass?” he asks as he confirms the payment on his screen, letting you take your card out swiftly and fit it back into your wallet. “Pretty much,” you answer, though it’s not entirely true anymore; the amount of work you need to complete is definitely a major stressor, but it’s your brain’s fixation on Chan, and your subsequent worry about how you were perceived by him that plague yours thoughts and makes finishing your work much harder than it needs to be. Felix doesn’t need to hear about any of that, though. 

You thank him for serving you before you step away to allow the line to continue to flow, and he wishes you luck with the rest of your day before he greets his next customer. You scarf down your doughnut before you step outside to leave the building, the crisp fall air instantly helping to bring your mind back to a place of normalcy. A few small sips of your drink, a tossing of your trash in the public bin, and you’re ready to make your way back to your room to tackle the behemoth of a paper you wrote that needs reviewing. 

You make it only a few steps before you’re stopped by a voice you dread hearing saying your name from behind you, one that the universe seems to love to remind you that you can’t run away from. “I’ve been looking for you,” he smiles as he steps in front of you, cutting off your path and making you stop walking.

The blood in your veins feels ice cold, the alarms in your brain deafeningly loud. Fuck. How did Jae find you here? 

Stumbling upon each other at a random party, as unpleasant and unfortunate as it was, was at least feasible. College parties weren’t limited to the host’s affiliation; word of mouth took campus parties to new heights, their friends invite their friends who then invite theirs, turning what one might intend to be a simple get together between close friends and roommates into something much larger than the host ever intended. 

Yes, as much as you hated it when you ran into him, the party setting you were brought into made the most logistical sense. But here? At a small off-campus coffee shop at 9am? What the fuck was he doing here?

Surely if this was a place he frequented you wouldn’t have gone so many months without coming across one another. Which leaves you to think only one thing, that you desperately hope isn’t true- he sought you out on purpose.

“I don’t want to see you,” you say, voice as stern as you can possibly make it despite the way your nerves threaten to eat you alive. You’re doing your best not to panic, reasoning with yourself that things on your side in the situation; you’re in a public space, on a fairly active street with plenty of witnesses, and lots of options for safety. As long as you don’t freeze up or mentally shut down, you’ll be okay. 

You take a step in an attempt to walk past him, but of course, he doesn’t want to allow you to leave so easily. “C’mon, don’t be like that,” he says in a tone that’s supposed to portray himself as innocently pleading for your time, but his smirk deceives his intentions. You opt to ignore him, shifting to the side to once again make your way past him. 

He reaches out to grab your arm, instantly stopping you in your tracks. “Let go of me!” you protest, trying to pull yourself out of his grasp, but to no avail. Your eyes scan the area, seeking a way to get yourself out of this situation as quickly as possible. As if sensing this, Jae pulls you towards the nearby shop alley, dragging you into it with him. 

Your coffee falls to the ground in the struggle, splashing your legs and drenching the soles of your shoes. Your eyes water, race burning red as a wave of emotions washes over you– shame, anger, misery, all of which make him laugh.

“It’s a shame we were interrupted last time, isn’t it? And you don’t have your guard dog here to protect you, how sad,” he taunts, infinitely condescending in the way he speaks to you, “Go ahead and cry, he’s not gonna save you this time.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying your hardest to suppress the rising panic. You need to will yourself to move, to be loud, to make it impossible for him to take advantage of you any further. You take a breath and open your eyes, surprised to see someone standing directly behind Jae– Chan.

He’s yanked away from you in a sudden motion as a hand grabs his shoulder, stumbling backwards and landing awkwardly on his right foot, clutching you tighter in his hand to try and steady himself. “Wha– who the fuck?” 

“Fuck off. Don’t make me teach you a lesson again,” Chan’s voice is low as he grabs Jae by the wrist and twists it, causing him to grit his teeth and finally release you from his grasp. Jae scowls as Chan’s grip on his wrist loosens, curses and insults quickly being muttered under his breath as he shoots you both furious looks.

“You heard me. Go,” Chan says, eyebrow raised with a look that says ‘test me and you’ll regret it.’ Begrudgingly, he retreats while calling you both less than kind names and rubbing his wrist. Chan hears them of course, but making sure you’re okay is more of a priority than fixing Jae’s loose mouth.

“You alright..?” he asks, looking you over for injury as he did the first time he stopped Jae from harming you. You stayed silent however, your brain struggling to process the fact that Chan is here and helped you again– and he eventually frowns. Jae may be a fucking imbecile, but he was smart when he wanted to be; he didn’t hurt you enough to leave any marks– at least not anywhere Chan could see clearly. 

On top of that, you still hadn’t responded yet, and he wasn’t entirely sure when your altercation even began; it was pure coincidence that he turned the corner to reach Sunshine Cafe and saw you being pulled away to the adjacent alley.

But he heard what he said as he approached; “guard dog,” Jae called him. Yeah, that’s exactly what he’ll be if Jae refuses to leave you alone– your personal guard dog, ready to attack as needed.

He cautiously taps your shoulder, his eyebrows knitting together in a clear sign of concern, “Hey… you okay..?” You nod, swallowing the lump that formed in your throat. You were in shock more than anything, you think. Jae tormented you for years, and you’d grown used to it over the years. Hair pulling, tripping, slapping, dumping water on you.. Things that though you hated, you were used to and came to expect. 

But now? Now that you’d left that behind, began to live your life with a sense of fulfillment and joy, were away from all that once dragged you to the depths of despair.. You realized how much those things still hurt, how the time and distance didn’t cure or absolve you of your pain.

And you hated that he found you, hated that his presence still had an effect on you, hated how easy it was for him to reverse all of the positive progress you made. Most of all, you just hated Jae– truly, deeply hated him.

You could tell you were shaking, felt the tears in the corners of your eyes threatening to fall, embarrassed by the fact that Chan once again has to see you at your lowest when you’ve just barely formed a friendship. It’s humiliating in a way that’s hard to explain to anyone who hasn’t felt it themselves– the shame that comes with feeling inadequate, in looking weak in the face of someone you don’t want to see you that way.

Chan looks down, seeing what he assumes is the remnants of your fresh coffee spilled on the concrete, whipped cream and caramel splattered in all directions from the impact they made with the ground. He kneels down, grabbing the plastic cup and turning it to the front, confirming what he already suspected; your name, written in big, black letters with a sharpie, followed by a sticker with the specifics of your order.

He looks back at you as he stands back up, still holding your cup in his hands despite how sticky it’s become from splashed coffee. “Hey, look.. I’m sorry– Jae was pissed that I helped you last time, right? It's my fault, so why don’t I buy you a new coffee?”

“Huh?" you blink, surprised by his offer; once again, he's helping you when he has no reason to, and trying to process it makes your brain lag. "Oh– you don’t have to do that! It’s not your fault at all, he’s always treated me that way. He probably would’ve done this again even if you hadn’t helped the first time,” you respond after a moment, not yet meeting his gaze. 

Chan frowns at your answer; he knows Jae well enough to know that’s true, but it doesn’t piss him off any less. He’s always been like that– a coward in wolf’s clothing, always preying on whoever wants and thinking he can get away with it. “Unlock your phone and hand it to me,” he says, holding his hand out to you expectantly.

You furrow your brows in confusion, but do as he asks regardless, fishing through your pocket and quickly putting in your password before passing it to him. Chan locates your contacts page easily, adding his number to the relatively short list. “Call me next time,” he says as he hands it back to you.

You stare at your phone for a few moments, processing the information slowly before you look up at him. “You.. I can call you?” “Of course.” His response is nonchalant in tone, but you can tell he’s being genuine, just as before.

You don’t understand why he’s consistently so kind to you, someone who is effectively a stranger, who he has no reason to look out or care for. Stopping a bad situation he came across once made enough sense, especially since it was happening in his own house, but to devote himself to regularly helping you was completely different. Was he really that selfless? 

“What if you don’t answer..?” you finally ask, still struggling to make sense of his kindness towards you. “I’ll answer,” he replies easily, as if that’s the only option there is. “What if Jae takes my phone? Or I can’t reach it?” you continue, because surely he can’t be serious.

Why would he do that for you? Chan’s expression shifts to one you can’t read, full of thoughts and emotions you couldn’t possibly read before he speaks again, “Yell if you have to. If you call, I’ll hear it. I’ll come running as soon as I can.”

You tear up for the second time today, though this time for a reason completely different from before; you’re grateful to have someone who wants to be there for you unconditionally. After suffering for so long, you began to believe that you were beyond selfless kindness, that it was something you would never experience or have offered to you. And in your current state, it seems that even the smallest ounce of it is enough to make you emotional. 

“H-Hey, don’t cry!” Chan’s voice is suddenly filled with worry, a stark contrast to the aloof tone he seems to typically have. And really, he isn’t sure what to do– he’s never had to comfort a girl who was crying before.

You wipe your face, trying your best to calm down quickly and offer him an appreciative smile. “Sorry, this is actually super embarrassing..” you awkwardly laugh as you rub your eyes dry, hoping that he won’t change his mind and decide you’re not worth it. 

“No, it’s okay.. You’ve been through a lot on your own,” his tone softens, clearly trying to relay sympathy for you. You nod, steadying yourself with a deep breath before you finally look at him directly, without embarrassment or shame for your feelings. “Thank you, Chan.”

“Of course,” he says, giving you a small pat on the head in the same way he used to do to comfort his brothers when they were upset. “Let’s get you a new coffee, yeah?”  

You nod again, deciding to take him up on his offer and let him buy you a new coffee. “Just stick close to me, okay?” Chan reaches his free hand out to you, offering for you to take it if you’d like to. And you do, deciding to ignore the way your heart picks back up in speed when your hand is in his.

You know there’s no romantic intent, but that doesn’t stop the butterflies from erupting in your stomach at the contact. You can tell he’s just a sweet person, that there’s nothing special about this interaction, that he’d likely do this for anyone in a similar situation to you, but regardless of your rational thoughts, you can’t calm your heart, or prevent it from skipping a beat when he gives it a reassuring squeeze before leading you out of the alley.  

It doesn’t take more than a few moments to reach the cafe again, the line having drastically shortened since you were here minutes prior. Rather than wait in the line however, Chan walks directly to the counter, with you nervously in tow. The waiting customers shoot you both angry looks, but they ultimately choose not to say anything about your transgression.

“I’m sorry, I need to take care of this real quick,” Felix says to the angry girl waiting at the front that Chan just caused you to cut off, giving her an apologetic look before turning to the both of you. “Channie-hyung! And Y/N..?” He looks puzzled to see the two of you together, and really you can’t blame him. You were just here, and now here you are again, with a guy you’ve never brought up, and–

Wait. Channie-hyung? They know each other?

“Felix, can you make her another one of these? I’ll pay for it,” Chan says, holding your ruined coffee cup to the poor barista to look at. “Don’t worry hyung, I know her order. And you don’t have to pay! I’ll take care of it,” Felix says as he takes the cup from Chan’s hands, tossing it in a bin underneath the counter before he turns to make you a new drink. Chan grumbles something under his breath about how Felix should let him pay, a subtle frown growing on his face.

“Chan,” you speak up, and he turns his head in your direction, a small “hmm?” leaving his lips. “Your other hand– it’s sticky from the coffee, isn’t it? Do you want to go rinse it off?”

“Oh– yeah, uh, I guess it is,” he says, clenching and unclenching his fist as if he only just realized when you brought it up. “I’ll be right back,” he says, letting go of your hand to make his way to the public bathroom on the other end of the cafe.

You breathe a sigh of slight relief, because as much as you enjoyed holding his hand, it made your heart feel like it was going to burst out of your chest. “Here you go,” Felix says as he holds your newly made drink out to you, though instead of his usual smile, he’s looking at you full of curiosity.

“How do you know my brother?” he asks, and wow, does that take you by surprise. The cute, freckled boy who takes your order everyday and serves you with a sweet smile is Chan’s brother? You honestly can’t believe it.

“I, uhm, met him at a party. Wasn’t it your party?” you ask, remembering how Chan told you it was his brother’s and not his. Though as you recall, you didn’t see Felix there, and you definitely would’ve remembered if he was. “Oh, no! It wasn’t mine, it was Changbin’s!”

Oh, so Chan has more than one brother then? You’re about to ask to confirm, but the lady you cut off clears her throat impatiently, clearly fed up with waiting.

“Sorry ma’am, I’ll be right there!” Felix tells her politely before shifting his focus back to you, “Well, gotta get back to work, but I hope you’ll come by the house when I’m there next time! So we can talk more and be friends outside of the cafe!” 

He then waves goodbye to you with a bright smile, turning his attention back to the customers in line while you’re left more than a little stunned. You always thought Felix seemed extremely sweet and fun to be around, so you’re definitely not opposed to seeing him outside of getting your morning coffee, but you didn’t expect a friendship to happen like this.

Chan returns shortly after, and though he isn’t smiling, he does seem glad that you have a fresh coffee in your hands. “You gonna be okay? Don’t need me to walk you to class or anything?” Chan asks and you shake your head, though the fact that he even asked practically makes your heart erupt.

“N-No, I was just gonna head home, I have a paper I need to work on and turn in tonight,” you explain, and he nods in acknowledgment, thinking a moment before he speaks. “I’ll see you around then. And uh.. you know. Let me know if you need anything, yeah?” 

“I will,” you smile, one that he returns ever so slightly. You thank him before you say your goodbye, waving as you make your way out of the door and back out onto the street. You take a sip of your coffee as you take your first steps back to your dorm, finding that it tastes much sweeter than the first one you had– and you like that.

Everything in your life has been that way; sweeter, more enjoyable, with Jae absent from it. And you hope that with your new friends by your side to help and support you, it will stay that way.

Chan is late getting home that night, the shit he had to do for work tonight being beyond exhausting and dirty. The first thing he does is shower, eager to get all the grime off his body so he can eat dinner and hopefully relax, if his brain and body will let him. He eats a microwave meal in relative silence when he’s clean, thinking about all that happened before he set off to work. 

He knew it was only a matter of time before he met you again, but he didn’t expect it to be in negative circumstances again. He had a job in the area that day, and figured he’d stop by Sunshine Cafe to see and get a coffee from Felix before getting things done, only to stumble on the sight of Jae dragging you off against your will. 

Without even thinking about it, he ran– he didn’t know how far Jae was going to take you, what he planned to do with you, and so he wasted no time to catch up to where he saw you go. Jae has a knack for pissing him off, but this went beyond a feeling as simple as that.

What Chan felt instead was disgust. He thought that Jae was easily the most reprehensible person he’d ever met, and that if he has nothing better to do than harass women, then he deserves to get his teeth knocked out of his skull– and Chan would happily be the one to do that. 

And that’s what he planned to do when he pulled Jae back, but when he saw the look on your face, your eyes full to the brim of unshed tears and fear, he stopped. He didn’t want you to see his violent side, he realized.

The side of him that will punch and maim and hurt, that left people bloodied and bruised. When he told you that he was a drop out, and you didn’t judge him, instead offering your understanding and shared your experience with him, he knew you were someone compassionate and good.

Why did people like you always get hurt? He’d seen it countless times, and it always made him sick with anger. And everyone in his life knew that about him, saw first hand the things he was willing to do to protect someone, but for some reason he didn’t want you to see it.

Was it because he didn’t want to taint your impression of him? Because there was a part of him that was afraid that if you knew the kind of things he’s done, that you’d retract any desire to form a friendship with him? He wasn’t sure, but what he did know is that for whatever reason, he wanted you to see him as someone better. 

It’s just past 11:30 when he flops down the couch with a sigh next to Hyunjin, who has some drama Chan doesn’t recognize playing on the tv. It was nights like tonight he wished he could turn his brain off, and not worry about what people think of him, nor be plagued by the memories of horrible things he’s done just to survive. 

Checking his phone in hopes to find something else to focus on, he sees he received a few texts whilst he was busy– most from clients, a few updates from Changbin, who was complaining about the group project he was assigned from his professor and how he’s staying out tonight to complete it, and a few more from an unsaved number that he can safely assume is yours. 

Hi Chan, it’s Y/N! 

Thank you so much for everything. I really appreciate it <3

If you’re still sure, I hope it’s okay to rely on you while I keep gathering my courage

9:12 PM ✓

it’s fine rly i’m not gonna let some dickhead like jae do whatever he wants

you can rely on me as long as you want i don’t mind

call me anytime you need

11:34 PM ✓

“What are you smiling about?” Hyunjin asks as he peers over Chan’s shoulder to take a peek. Chan jumps slightly in surprise, locking his phone screen before sliding it into his pocket. “I wasn’t smiling.”

“Uh-huh, sure you weren’t. I believe you,” Hyunjin laughs in response. Chan sits there in an awkward silence for a few moments, before he glances over to see Hyunjin looking at him with a grin. “What?” Chan questions and Hyunjin lets out another small laugh.

“Y/N, huh? Is that the girl from Changbin’s party?” Chan wants to be angry that Hyunjin saw the name on his phone and is asking about it, but honestly, he’d be curious too if it were the other way around, so he can’t fault him for asking.

“Yeah. I saw her again today and gave her my number. Jae was harassing her again, and it pisses me off when he gets away with shit, so. You know.” He’s leaving out the part about his complex, unfamiliar feelings towards you, but Hyunjin doesn’t need to know them, he thinks. Better to leave those unsaid until he figures them out for himself.

Hyunjin meanwhile clicks his tongue in disapproval, displeased to hear that Jae’s up to his usual bullshit. “What’s wrong with that dude? He and his prick friends need to get a job or something and leave everyone else alone.” 

“Well if at this point he still doesn’t get the hint, he’s an even bigger dumbass than I already think he is,” Chan says and Hyunjin laughs, agreeing with the sentiment instantly. Chan feels his phone vibrate against his leg as Hyunjin shifts his attention back to his show, and is surprised to see its response from you this close to midnight. 

Don’t say that, I might rely on you for a long time then!

11:47pm ✓

i said i don’t mind

i’m here for you okay? 

11:48pm ✓

The two of you continue to text, and unbeknownst to himself, Chan has a small smile on his face again, that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by Hyunjin. However, rather than tease his older brother again, he decides to let it be. As fun as it is to poke some fun, he did genuinely like seeing Chan smile. It felt so rare these days to see happiness on his face, and he was grateful to see it now, even if it was only by a small margin. 

Chan glances up from his phone to see if Hyunjin is still peeking at him, and is relieved to find that he isn’t. It’s not that he’s embarrassed to be seen texting you, but.. Before he dropped out, he had a reputation in high school for being a bad guy, with all kinds of rumors being spread about him during his freshman year.

And while a lot of them weren’t true, he didn’t mind leaning into them and letting people believe whatever they wanted to if it meant he was left alone. He had no interest in the things his classmates were interested in; grades, exams, college applications, after school clubs… None of those things mattered. 

He was forced to grow up quickly after his parents passed away, and it left him jaded to the worries someone his age would typically have had. And while he encouraged his friends-turned-brothers to do well and go after anything they wanted to, he couldn’t find it within himself to care about such fleeting things after all he’d been through.

At the time, all he wanted was to coast until graduation, and then start working full time to support himself and help his found family reach their goals. As long as the people he cared about had a chance to lead a better life than him, that was enough. 

Chan figured then, and especially when he dropped out and started working full time, that he wouldn’t have time for new friendships until much later in life, and he made his peace with that a long time ago. However, he couldn’t deny the possibility that perhaps he pushed down the idea that he did want someone to spend time with that wasn’t from his own bubble.

Someone he could talk to about mundane things, who lived a normal life with normal hardships, someone who knew nothing about the shady shit he had to do to survive, and who could distract him from the weight of his responsibilities. And maybe it was okay to let you be that friend for him. 

He was sure the others would tease him and say he has a crush, but honestly, his intentions are nothing like that. Despite what rumors would lead you to believe, he’s always been the kind of person to lift up those who needed help, and give them a place next to him. Anyone who had been dealt bad cards in life, he would help if he had the means to, because he knew how awful it felt to be alone with no one to turn to. 

Regardless of gender, you both needed someone. And if you could be that someone for Chan, he would be that someone for you, because that’s just the kind of guy he is. As long as you needed him, he’d be there for you, he’d protect you, he’d be your friend. And he hoped you’d be his friend too, and that you’d never stop needing him. 

Hiraeth; a deep sense of longing, a deep-rooted desire to return to home that no longer exists, or never existed to begin with. A homesickness tinged with grief and sorrow over what is lost and cannot be regained. A word that encompasses Chan in his entirety, though he’d be loath to admit it to any who asked, emotionally solitary as he is. 

When others feel nostalgia, there is an associated happiness– that even though they miss or long for that period of time in their life, they accept that they cannot return to it. They look back on it fondly, happy to have those memories and able to appreciate what they had.

They miss the joy they felt in those simpler times, the days where they were taken care of and pampered by their parents, where every meal was provided for them and they spent all of their free time worry free, watching their favorite cartoons on tv or playing video games for hours on end. 

But what do you do when your only memories of childhood are encompassed by an overarching sadness? When what should be happy memories are tainted by the knowledge that you lost your joy too young, that fate held no mercy, not even for a child so young- what do you do?

Chan wished he knew, because the reality is that even nearly 15 years since the day he lost his parents he still doesn’t know how to cope with his grief. And those are the thoughts that kept him up at night, his insomnia complexly woven with heartache and melancholy, unable to be separated no matter how hard he tried.

He doesn’t dare check the clock, knowing that whatever number he sees reflecting back at him will just add to the misery he feels. He shifts onto his back with a sigh, eyes now pointed directly to the bare ceiling. 

How different would his life be now if his mom and dad were still here? It was no use thinking about it, it didn’t accomplish anything other than making the ache in his chest grow tighter, but he couldn’t prevent it from happening anymore than he could turn back time and change it. There was no way to make the impossible possible, and there was equally no way to prevent his brain from fixating on the what if's and should be's of his life.

There was a part of him that felt selfish for not being happier– like he was asking for too much, expecting some sort of retribution for all the suffering he’d endured, though such a thing would assuredly never come. It wasn’t like he was always miserable, either– he had so many people in his life he cared about and made him feel sane when life was running him to the ground, he had enough money to afford the things he needed and keep everyone afloat, he was strong and (mostly) healthy.

He should be grateful for all those things, and he certainly is, but just.. It’s hard. You never stop missing the people you lose, he supposes. Even when you’re grateful, even when you’re happy and smiling, even when everything is seemingly perfect, the pain is still there.

Lingering in every interaction, present in every moment, sometimes ignorable but never forgotten, always reminding him that the hole in his heart exists, and will only ever grow larger, impossible to fill. That’s what Chan feels. 

Fuck it. 

He reaches for his phone on the coffee table, bright light immediately straining his eyes as he unlocks the device. 2:14 a.m– not the worst it could be, thankfully; it means he’s only been stuck in his head for a little over an hour. Should he text you and see if you’ve fallen asleep yet, he wonders?

No– better not to disturb you, and risk himself saying too much about what he feels due to lapse in judgment. The thought of telling anyone about how sad and lonely he is inside makes him physically ill– he dreads the feeling of vulnerability, hates the way his emotions catch in his throat and eyes fill with tears whenever he tries.

He’s always regretted sharing in the past, not because of the fault of anyone he told, but purely due to his own inability to not feel shame and embarrassment when he lets someone in. His friends, brothers, found family, whatever you wanted to call them– very few of them saw Chan at his worst, but in an ideal world, none of them would’ve seen it.

He can still remember the look on Minho’s face the first time he broke down in front of him, and it plagues him. He couldn’t control it– the tears just wouldn’t stop coming no matter how hard he tried to keep them in, choked, broken sobs leaving him uncontrollably as his body shook and trembled. 

Minho comforted him, of course– he wasn’t going to leave Chan to suffer alone after seeing him in such a state. But when the moment passed, there was no comfort or consolation within him to be felt– just the shame and embarrassment that twisted itself into a gnawing self-consciousness.

And the thought of being in that state of self-doubt and hatred in front of you was even worse, because you were the absolute last person he wanted to see him that way. Maybe one day, but not now– not when your friendship was still relatively fresh and being built upon. 

But.. even if he’s not ready to share his deepest thoughts and feelings, he still wants to talk to you now. He wants to see you smile at him, he wants to listen to you talk about what your plans are for when the winter semester is over and the weather starts to become warm again.

He wants to see the twinkle in your eye when you talk about what your newest favorite song is, wants to your your thoughts on whatever new meal you tried out for dinner. Because as silly as it is, in the few months it’s been since he first became your friend, those are the things he’s come to enjoy most and look forward to. 

Are you still awake now? Are you staring up at his ceiling the way he is now in the living room? Is his bed comfortable enough for you? Did he leave you with enough blankets?

He could text you so easily to find out, but for some reason the thought of it makes him extremely nervous. You’ve been to the house plenty of times now since becoming friends with not only him, but Felix, Hyunjin, and Changbin, but this is the first time you’re staying overnight. 

You initially came at the request to help Changbin, who is currently taking a class you took last semester but is struggling with the material, and needed assistance to understand the concepts he was being introduced to. You brought your laptop with you, using it to show Changbin the detailed notes you took and offering him copies of the study guides you made, and it truly made Chan happy to see you helping his brother out so diligently. 

After a couple hours, Changbin let you off the hook, citing that his brain was tired from the overload of information and he’d be hitting the gym to let off some steam. “Oh my god, it’s this late already? I still have to work on my discussion post for this week,” you groaned, evidently dreading the work you’d have to put into making it decent enough for your professor’s obnoxiously high standards. 

“I can help you,” Chan offered without even thinking, and God, why did even do that? Because how was he, a high school dropout with no GED, realistically going to help someone as smart as you?

He wasn’t dumb by any means, but what kind of input could he even offer that would benefit you? But despite the way his brain made fun of him for his lapse in judgment, and convinced him that you’d absolutely refuse his help, you smiled at him.

“Yeah, okay! We should get some food too, I haven’t had dinner yet and I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” you spoke cheerfully, opening up a new tab on your laptop to check over the delivery options in the area. He was stunned for a moment, feeling like his entire nervous system was zapped the moment you accepted his offer.

There was no hesitation, no doubt in your mind that he could help despite what you know of his education history– why did that make him feel so warm inside? 

The corners of his mouth tugged in a smile as he helped you pick out a restaurant to order from, the two of you munching on burgers and fries as he listened to your thoughts on what your discussion post should be about. You bounced your ideas off him, and while he wasn’t knowledgeable on the subject you needed to write about, discussing it with him still seemed to help you.

It was kind of like thinking aloud; like voicing what you thought worked and what didn’t, what you thought your professor would like to see and what he wouldn’t helped you to formulate a more cohesive outline in your mind. Chan watched as you typed furiously, tongue slightly poked out and brows furrowed as you concentrated on the screen in front of you.

You’d occasionally seek his input, asking things like “does this make sense?” or “do you think this is too much or not enough?” He was entirely out of his depth if he was being honest, but he was happy you wanted his input regardless, and enjoyed seeing a side of you he didn’t typically see. 

With Chan’s (albeit limited) help, you managed to finish before the midnight deadline, hitting submit on your post with just a few minutes to spare. You stood up and stretched your arms and legs, feeling stiff from all your time spent hunched at the same spot, a sigh of relief leaving you shortly after.

But then there came the next dilemma– getting home this late into the night. Chan didn’t live far from campus, and thus was near the dorms as well, but the thought of you walking home in relative darkness by yourself didn’t sit well with him. 

“You can stay here if you want. You can take my bed, I’ll stay here,” he suggested. You blinked, staying silent as you processed the offer. Chan, who took the quiet as discomfort, was quick to speak up again and try to remedy it, “Or uh, I could walk you back if you’d prefer that–”

“N-No!” you quickly blurted out, face reddening slightly as you cleared your throat to speak more calmly, “I mean– I’ll stay.” Chan nodded, standing up to go up to his room with you; you didn’t need to be led there of course, you already knew where it is, but Chan needed to at least grab a few things for himself before leaving it to you for the rest of the night.

A pair of clothes to sleep in, a blanket, a pillow, his phone charger, and he’s all set. You watched him move about the room while sitting on his bed, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you did. “I’ll see you in the morning, uhm– let me know if you need anything, yeah? I’ll be on the couch, so.. Yeah, good night,” he said with a slight smile before he departed, doing his best to close the door behind himself despite how full his hands were.

Another sigh leaves his lips now, followed by another check of the time; it’s already 2:30 a.m. He doubts you're still awake, and even if you are, he's decided he won't bother you. But if he’s going to lose sleep no matter what, he hopes it's from thinking about you comfortably wrapped in his blankets upstairs, instead of any of the other things that attempt to gnaw at him.

How on earth were you supposed to sleep?

You were in Chan’s bed, surrounded by the smell of his cologne, his stuffed toy wolf clutched closely to your chest because you always held something to fall asleep, but obviously didn’t have any of your own plushies here to do so. And God, your heart absolutely refuses to be still no matter how mundane of a situation you’re in.

Who cares if you’re spending the night in the bed of the guy best friend that you’ve started to develop a crush on? It doesn’t matter! You’re going insane, you think– you can’t take it.

You’re stupid, delusional, thinking about how it'd be if he was still here with you, what it’d be like if he were laying down next to you. Wrapping his arm around you, pulling you against his chest, speaking to you in a gravelly, tired voice and– please brain stop!!

You pour all your mental effort into stopping yourself from thinking about it any further as embarrassment flushes over you. Isn’t this kind of cringey..? Getting a crush on the first guy to ever be nice to you seems so.. Cliche? Pathetic? What is even wrong with you? But when you look at him, you can’t help it. 

He may look intimidating to others, but you’ve seen the truth of him since becoming his friend. Maybe it’s just puppy love that will fade with time, but you can’t help but admire him. And maybe that admiration is being fueled by the fact that he’s also incredibly handsome, but that’s besides the point. Underneath the aloof exterior, he’s sweet, caring, humble, generous.. How could you not like him? 

And you think about the first time you saw him smile– really smile, full and bright, teeth showing and eyes crinkled as a laugh escaped him. It was so beautiful, you felt like time slowed down around you.

You learned that he had dimples that day; cute ones that made his smile endearing beyond explanation, and that you hoped you’d see again and again and again from that day forward. You loved the way he looked when he was happy, when his hard exterior melted away to reveal the soft features he hid underneath.

Every day spent with Chan was full of a joy you thought you’d lost the capability to feel. You found yourself endlessly enamored by him, by every thing you learned about him; every interaction you had with him, intensified the feeling that welled in your chest.

He was so considerate of you, always watching out for you and making sure you were okay when you were out together. Like the time a few weeks ago when all of you were out together, celebrating Felix’s birthday.

You also met the other guys Chan considered his brothers that day; Jisung and Seungmin, who also had birthdays very close to Felix’s, Minho, who was close in age to Chan and equally as aloof in appearance, and Jeongin, the youngest of them all, though only by a small margin. It was fun to watch them all interact together over dinner, their dynamics quickly becoming apparent.

Changbin, who was typically loud to begin with, became even more so in the presence of Jisung, the pair becoming so explosively loud and chaotic that even the quieter ones like Chan and Minho would end up roped into whatever shouting was currently taking place. You’d laugh as you observed the chaos, and you enjoyed seeing a new side of Chan– one who let loose and had fun, who smiled freely and laughed just as much, who was beautiful beyond words. 

You learned a lot about them that day too– about how Minho moved to the opposite end of the city to go to vet school and how Jisung moved into a small apartment with him to make sure he was taking care of himself (and to help care for the cats the older had adopted shortly after.)

Hyunjin, who you already knew was an avid painter, expressed his desire to own a studio some day, and Felix, your favorite barista and baker, talked about all the times he failed at a dessert and forced the others to eat them anyway so they wouldn’t go to waste. 

Seungmin was scouted to play baseball, and so moved pretty far away from the others now, but still loved to come back to the city and visit when he could, often with a camera in hand to capture moments he found beautiful. Jeongin was taking a gap year before going to school again, trying to make sure that he was sure about what he wanted to do with his life before committing himself to the hours of work and money spent. 

You were in awe of them, truly; they were all so different, yet came together and loved one another so genuinely, as real brothers would. And they all unanimously agreed that Chan was the one who held them together, the one who supported them through everything and helped them during the hardest times in their life.

You loved how anytime someone praised him, or had anything even remotely positive to say about him, his ears would light up red with embarrassment as he turned his gaze away from them. You knew Chan was softie underneath, that was obvious to you from the day you met him, but it was still nice to have your opinion of him affirmed by others, to know that was the kind of person he always was.

And he expressed that he didn’t see his actions as praiseworthy, always feeling awkward when it was brought up. To Chan, it was just human decency to help someone if he had the means to– a feeling that stemmed from the time he spent alone and in need of help when he was a child. 

He was well acquainted with that pain, knew how miserable it was, and he didn’t want anyone else to experience it. He couldn’t ignore someone who was clearly in need, so he always helped; even if he wasn’t in the best of circumstances himself, he would do whatever he could for them, no questions asked. And he never asked for anything in return, because to him, seeing the person back on track and happy again was reward enough. 

You knew every kind thing they said about Chan was no exaggeration, knew first hand that he truly was the kindest person you’d ever met. He put on a mask of toughness, sure, but there was no one in the world who was as generous and caring as him. You looked at him with pure adoration, which certainly didn’t go unnoticed by Hyunjin, who smiled to himself whenever he saw the way you’d blush or smile whenever Chan looked back your way. 

And when you were leaving the restaurant together, each saying your goodbyes as you readied yourselves to head in your separate directions, you saw him. It was pure coincidence– Jae was across the street, talking with some friends as he stood outside the bar smoking, completely unaware of the fact that you were even in the area.

Chan looked at you, noticed the way you suddenly stopped in place and just stared across the street, and he followed your gaze to the culprit. He stepped close to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to his body.

“It’s okay, he didn’t see you,” Chan comforted you, bringing his other hand to your face, directing you to look away from Jae and at him instead, “and even if he did, I’m right here. Just stick close to me, okay?” You nodded slowly, wondering if the thumb that rested on your cheek could feel the way heat rose to it.

The others who were there, a group consisting of just the 3 who lived with Chan, just observed, not daring to step in until the moment was over. They all knew Jae well, and were also well aware of the things he’d done to you, at least on the surface level, and they promised that they’d look out for you too. 

You thanked them earnestly at the time, honestly unable to think of a single time you’d ever felt such solidarity, deeply appreciative of them, and of Chan, who brought you all together. But now, as they all stood there watching, they felt it’d be best to leave it to Chan, who you quite obviously had feelings for. Hyunjin and Felix shared a knowing look, deciding to drag Changbin down the street with them before he’d have the opportunity to accidentally interrupt your moment. 

Butterflies erupted in your stomach as he squeezed your shoulder, leading you to walk away from the area with him. There was no romantic intent, you knew that– he was keeping you close to make sure you were okay, to ensure that you were within his reach should anything happen. Chan was a kind hearted person who did anything needed to protect others and there was nothing special about this interaction, you knew that. 

But regardless of all those rational thoughts you were repeating to yourself, you couldn’t stop the way it made your heart skip a beat, couldn’t help the way his care for you made your knees weak and face hot. Because even if he never liked you the way you liked him, he still cared about you, and that was enough fuel for your growing crush on him, enough to make your heart beat out of control. 

Was he still awake? Chan told you before that he was an insomniac, so it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that he was just as wide awake as you are. Should you go check?

There was certainly no harm in it– if he did happen to be asleep, you’d just quietly slip back to his room and let him get some much needed rest, while you'd try again to get some sleep. There was really no reason not to go. 

Carefully, you rise from the bed, wolf plush tucked safely in your arms and blanket wrapped around you, quietly opening the door and exiting out into the hallway. You’re careful not to make the stairs creak as you make your way down to the living room where Chan is supposed to be, and he immediately comes into view once you’re at the bottom.

It’s obvious he’s awake, phone screen brightly illuminating the otherwise pitch black space. He hears your footsteps as you step closer, lifting his head just enough to see who is approaching him this late at night.

He looks surprised to see you for a moment, an emotion you can’t read in the relative darkness on his face for just a second before he’s sitting up and scooting to the side to make room for you on the couch next to him. “Can’t sleep either, huh?” he asks as you plop down in the spot he’s provided for you next to him, “Is my bed uncomfortable?” 

“Oh, no! Your bed was fine, it’s just..” I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and it was driving me crazy, you think, but don't admit, “.. a lot on my mind, I guess.” He hums in acknowledgment, definitely feeling the same way; but he didn’t need to drag you down with all that.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he offers, but you quickly shake your head, mortified at the thought of revealing your crush on him. That’s the last thing you should do. “Thanks, but no, I just want to take my mind off it.” 

He chuckles a little at your response, opting instead to change the subject, “I see you have Wolf Chan with you.” Wolf Chan? You look down at your arms, the cute wolf toy’s head peeking out from between your arms.

“Oh, he has a name?” you ask and he nods, smiling ever so slightly as he speaks. “Yeah, kinda embarrassing but I had a huge wolf phase as a kid, so my mom and dad got me him for my birthday. Named him after myself cause, you know, kid brain thought it was cool.” 

“That’s cute! When is your birthday?” you ask, hoping that you’d have the chance to plan something nice for him as thanks for all he’s done for you in the time you’ve known him. “October 3rd,” he answers swiftly, and you frown.

“..What? It already passed then? Why didn’t you tell me?” your frown transitions into a pout, sad at the realization that you all celebrated his brother's birthdays but not his. 

“I.. don’t really celebrate it. Wolf Chan– he was the last gift I got from my parents, the last birthday I had with them before.. Yeah. So I just.. Don’t acknowledge my birthday anymore, I guess?” Your heart sinks, not only because of how sad that is, but because you’re holding something clearly so important and personal to him without even having known it. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know– should I go put him back?” 

“Nah, don’t worry. I like it actually,” he smiles softly, sincerely, “I haven’t touched him in a long time myself, so.. He needs the attention. I’m sure he was feeling neglected.” You smile back, relief washing over you instantly, thankful that you didn’t unintentionally make a drastic error. “Well I hope you know, I can’t let your birthday go ignored now that I know it.”

“I expected that,” he replies, knowing full well you’d share that sentiment with his brothers. They still always wish him a happy birthday and get him a gift despite how often he expresses that they shouldn’t.

“Can I ask you something? It’s okay if you don’t want to answer,” you ask carefully, voice quiet and unsure, an underlying worry carried in your tone. Chan swallows, already anticipating what the question will be, the same questions he’s answered countless times, but never gets any easier to talk about.

“What they were like? You must still think about them a lot.” Oh. That wasn’t the question he was expecting. He’s used to being asked what happened, how he's coping, if there’s anything he needs– no one has ever asked about what they were like when they were still here.

He anticipates pity, or a sympathy that while mostly appreciated, makes him feel incredibly awkward and uncomfortable. Even with practice, there’s still times where he doesn’t know how to react, a terse, “I’m fine, thanks,” leaving him as he plots the quickest way out of the conversation. 

Safe to say, Chan isn’t good about talking about his feelings, or even feeling them to begin with for that matter. Apart from moments of weakness, when his facade cracks due to the mounting pressure and overload of emotions, he shares only what he deems necessary, never offering more than the minimum of what is needed.

Even when it came to his brothers, who he trusts more than anyone else, it was hard for him to go beyond his practiced response, taking him a great amount of emotional effort to do so. And he's not confident he can talk with you about how good they were without breaking down, but he can still share a little of how he feels, can't he?

“I do,” he answers after a moment, voice ever so slightly wavering. It's a simple response, sure, but not for Chan– nothing related to this topic is ever simple or easy for him. But somehow he feels comfortable enough to try.

And maybe that’s because it’s encroaching 3am and lack of sleep really takes a toll on one’s mental defenses, but he doesn’t think that’s all there is to it. He trusts you, as he does anyone he’s grown close to, but it takes more than trust alone to be able to open up.

You could trust someone with your life and still struggle to express an emotion, still have the words you want to say die in your throat. Maybe it’s because of what else he feels when he’s around you– an unfamiliar emotion that encroaches on his chest whenever you’re in the room with him. 

The one that intensifies his desire to protect you from people like Jae, the one that leads to him wanting to talk to you at all hours about any and every thing that comes to your mind, the one that makes his heart pick up when you smile at him and always makes him return the smile despite himself.

He wants to share with you, he realizes; share everything he can, from his happy moments to his sad ones, his thoughts, his feelings, his entire life even. He wants nothing to be off limits, to be his authentic self before you, even if who he is deep down is ugly and scarred.

“Even just before you came downstairs, I was thinking of them,” he continues, his honesty unfamiliar to himself but not unwelcome; it’s not that he’d lie about anything he felt, but he was just.. Avoidant. He didn’t want to talk about it, refused to even, most times.

But you– you make him want to be honest, not just with you, but with himself. Maybe it’s because of the feelings for you that have begun to accumulate in his heart, or maybe because he knows how similar you are. The circumstances were different, but the feelings were the same; isolation, sadness, hopelessness.

No one to turn to, no one to rely on, fighting all by yourself, with only your own ability to pick yourself back up to carry you forward. Chan knew first hand how painful that existence is, how much it hurts to have nothing, no one. He’s also come to learn, time and time again, that even when you’ve found your place in the world, the void lingers.

The hole in his chest never closes– even if he can stop it’s growth, it never shrinks, never collapses or recedes. There’s reasons for that, he knows; it’s his own fault for not allowing himself to feel, to share, his hesitancy to allow anyone past arm’s length or to chip at his walls.

He doesn’t want that with you– if he wants something with you beyond this, beyond the boundaries of simple friendship, he needs to do more, feel more, share more. It was something he thought he would be terrified to do, an irrational fear that your opinion of him would change if he wasn't as strong as he appeared to be; but now that he's met with the opportunity, instead of fear, he feels.. safe? 

“I lost them really young, you know; I was just a kid with a lot of grief he didn’t know how to handle, and the people who took me in didn’t care. ‘Suck it up,’ ‘get over it,’ ‘stop being a baby and grow up,’ shit like that. Didn’t matter that I was only 7 and lost everything, I should just be grateful they gave me a place to sleep and eat."

"Got emancipated at 16 to get away from them, dropped out of school cause I couldn’t balance it with how much I had to work, and I wasn’t gonna miss it anyways. And here I am now,” Chan is hesitant to meet your gaze when he finishes talking, worried about what feeling it might conjure in him when he sees your eyes laden with sympathy. 

Normally, the sympathy of others make him feel sick. He hates the pity, hates the attention that comes with having his vulnerabilities on display, hates the words they offer as consolation. But he doesn't hate it for you– the only thing you ever make him feel is warm. So, so warm after a lifetime of cold.

You move across the couch and wrap your arms around him in a hug, an action he didn’t expect– it's the first time you're hugging him. “That must’ve been so hard..” you say softly, care and concern for him evident in the way you speak to him.

He blinks, a lump forming in his throat that normally he’d try to ignore, to push away and act as if he’s fine, but this time he doesn’t. He’s choked up, he’s emotional, and for once, that’s okay. 

Carefully, he wraps his arms around you as well, his head resting atop yours as he lets out a shaky exhale. “Can we stay like this for a while?” he asks quietly, his fingers clutching at your shirt, as if afraid you’ll leave him the moment he lets go.

“Of course,” you assure him, moving just enough to make yourself more comfortable and settle in against him, “as long as you need.” He mumbles a ‘thank you’, to which you hum in response, following his lead as he lays back and settles with you in his arms. 

You stay like that for a long time– long enough for your breathing to slow, eyes closed and arms beginning to fall from the hug as you drift off. Your head has sank to his chest, his heartbeat, that started fast and erratic, has slowed to a comforting, steady rhythm that lulled you to sleep.

Chan is careful to pull the blanket up to your shoulders, ensuring that you at least are covered and will stay plenty warm until you wake up. He closes his eyes, keeping his arms wrapped around you under the blanket, wanting to keep you close and not let go.

He doesn’t know if he’ll always have this with you; this close comfort, this feeling of peace and calm, of having you in his arms and being able to be held by you, while holding you in return. He likes it, wants it engraved in his memory in case it never happens again, to always remember the way you felt, the way you cared, the safety he felt with you. A small, but cherished moment, special and important to him beyond words.

Was it okay to be this happy? It’s something Chan thought about lately, whenever he had finished spending a day with you, laying in his bed and playing them over in his mind, making sure every little detail was memorized.

The way you smiled, the way you laughed, the feel of your soft skin when he touched your hand or you hugged him tight, the way your perfume lingered in the room long after you’d left it. Did he deserve to be happy?

He certainly didn’t feel like he did, but he welcomed it all the same, too selfish to let go of the small piece of joy he’d obtained. His feelings for you had grown considerably, and he was sure it was obvious to his brothers, who never failed to notice the way he'd change when he was around you; they just knew him too well and were around him too much to not notice something different about his behavior. 

He liked you a lot, and there was certainly no way he’d be able to deny it if they asked about it. They didn’t overtly ask about it though of course, more often opting to make subtle nods to their knowledge of it or make suggestions like ‘wouldn’t it be fun if Y/N came too? You should invite her!’ when they had plans together.

Sometimes they even lightly poked some fun, one instance that sticks in Chan's mind being when Hyunjin wanted to show him what he called an “adorable picture.” It was of you and Chan, asleep on the couch together that first time you stayed the night.

Your head on his chest, his arm loosely wrapped around you, blanket having fallen from your shoulders just enough to make Chan’s hand on your back come into view. His face flushed when he saw it, ears burning as they turned red. Hyunjin was right, it was an adorable picture, and Chan was embarrassed beyond belief to see the moment captured. 

Hyunjin giggled in a mischievous sort of delight upon seeing the older’s reaction, evidently very pleased with the result he obtained. Chan's typical response in a situation where his feelings are exposed like this would be to play it cool and act like it’s not a big deal, which truthfully, he didn’t want to do.

Why should he pretend he doesn’t like you as much as he does? Especially after he’s decided he’ll do his best to be honest with himself, and by extension, the others in his life (you especially.) Even if it’s embarrassing, or uncomfortable because he’s not used to his emotions being obvious and out on display, it’s what he wants, needs even.

He needs to let them out if he’s going to be a better man than he was the day before, to be deserving of you when the time is right. So instead, he does what would normally be the unthinkable– he owns it. No denial, no avoidance, no playing it off as less severe or important than it really is to him. 

“Can you.. send it to me? I– I want to keep it,” Chan asked, easily the most shy and embarrassed to ask a question he had ever been in his entire life. Hyunjin blinked, initially surprised, but then immediately smiled. “Of course Channie-hyung! You should send it to Y/N too, I’m sure she’d like it,” he said as he eagerly opened his message tab, clicking Chan’s name to send the photo he took. 

“You could send it to her,” Chan responded before the words following fully sank in. Would you? “You think she’d want it too?” he asked, wondering if Hyunjin could tell how much hope lied in his question.

“Why wouldn’t she? You’re friends, aren’t you? And it’s a cute memory,” Hyunjin said, doing his best to convey why he thinks you’d want it without revealing that you absolutely have as bad of a crush on Chan as he does on you. (And it’s not like you explicitly told him either; it’s just that you’re as obvious about it and easy to read as Chan is.) 

“Right, yeah, of course.” Was it silly to hope that Hyunjin would say something like ‘obviously because she likes you!’ …Yeah. Definitely. But when he looked at the picture, it gave him hope that maybe you felt the same way; and if you didn’t, that maybe you would in the future, after he gave his earnest effort to be someone good. 

His next bit of hope came during a get together for Hyunjin’s birthday. The weather had just begun to turn warm, the days slowly getting longer and longer, allowing for more frequent outings. Thus, by Hyunjin’s own request, you went to have some fun downtown, hitting up local art scenes and scouting out opportunities for the birthday boy to get some fresh, new supplies.

It turned out to be a long day, with Hyunjin’s interest piqued towards various different places and sights, and as night rolled in most of the group had empty stomachs and aching legs. You all settled for having dinner at the house, picking up takeout and a birthday cake on the way back.

You seemed different after eating dinner, Chan noticed. You were sitting alone on the couch away from the group in the kitchen, who were crowding around the birthday cake waiting for a slice. You were watching them with an almost somber expression, and Chan could’ve sworn your eyes were fixated on him in particular. 

Had he done something to upset you? There was nothing he could recall, but he wasn’t exactly well versed or experienced with understanding or handling the complexities of feelings. He could easily imagine a world in which he unintentionally said or did something wrong, but he hoped that maybe you were just tired, and Chan only thought you were looking at him in sadly, when in reality, exhaustion was just catching up to you. 

And really, you were staring at Chan, but not for the reason he feared; he hadn’t done a single thing to upset you– quite the contrary, actually. He was good– not just to you, but to everyone. You watched the way he’d shoulder everything, how he’d support endlessly and rarely accept anything back, always so selfless and caring, withstanding anything thrown his way with generous consideration. 

You learned a lot about Chan in your time with him; about his youth, what his family dynamic used to be like, how even before he dropped out he had a bad reputation at his school for appearing stand-offish and cold. That reputation followed him for a majority of his life after leaving as well, with most people who knew him having a great dislike for him due to their perceived vision of him and the half-truths (or outright lies) they believed in.

It was only people like you and his brothers, who took the time to know him beyond the superficial front, that knew what a great person he truly was. And truthfully, it angered you; why were people so quick to judge someone they didn’t know?

Chan was the exact opposite of what people made him out to be. He wasn’t violent or cruel, nor was he scary or someone to be avoided at all costs. He was just a boy, now a man, who had suffered far too much pain and cruelty for someone his age, who was just doing his best to navigate the world with the limited resources he had. What was so wrong with that? 

But despite all the misconceptions of others, the burdens he carried, or the responsibilities he had, you never once heard him complain about any of it, or show any sign of annoyance. Because despite what people might think about him, the people close to him knew who he truly was– someone who lived his life with compassion and kindness, who was misunderstood but not ill-intentioned, always trying his best despite the difficulties that came his way. 

Sometimes you would wonder, though– is he really okay? Chan had dealt with so much, enough to easily break down even the most resolute of people. And as much as he shared, there was equally as much that you didn’t know; about what he felt, if he ever received as much as he gave, if he was truly happy.

You did your best to ensure he was. You always returned whatever favor he gave you, strived to be a reassuring presence for him as much as he was for you, but it was hard to know if that was enough.  You wanted to ask, but you didn’t know how best to broach the subject, or if he’d even be willing to talk about it if you did.

He had opened up to you before, during late night chats or if something he saw reminded him of a memory he held, but the moments themselves were quite fleeting, and you worried about him. You always worried about him, no matter where you were or what you were doing, because simply put, you loved him. 

You weren’t in love with him (you definitely were), but he was an undeniably important person in your life, who you had a lot of love and care for. He was your friend, and you wanted the best for him.

You’d never force him to share with you or tell you anything he didn’t want to of course, but you hoped he knew that he could if he wanted to. You hoped he knew that he never had to be scared or uncertain when it came to opening up to you, you hoped he knew that you would always listen to him and be there for him. 

Chan approached you carefully, working up his courage to talk to you and see if you were okay, and to know if there was an apology he owed you for some unknown grievance. “Are you okay? What’s got you so deep in thought tonight?” he’d asked, trying his best to not show how nervous he felt; you’d stopped looking at him, but he could tell even from afar that you were focused on something.

“Oh, I..” You hesitated a moment, wondering how you should best phrase what your honest thoughts were. You took a quick glance towards the kitchen where everyone else was, noting that everyone still seemed to be involved in their own conversations and antics, not paying any mind to the two of you. That made it a little easier; you think you’d die of embarrassment if they heard what you planned to say next. 

“I was thinking about you actually,” you said quietly after turning your gaze back to Chan. What surprised him wasn’t just how openly you admitted it, but how you didn’t seem the least bit angry or upset with him like he was worried you were.

So.. what about him had you so deep in thought, then? “What about me..?” he asked hesitantly, hoping for the best but still slightly scared he was reading you completely wrong. 

You swallowed before continuing, worried that you were somehow going to offend him by bringing up what you were thinking. While you felt like you knew Chan fairly well at this point, people can still become defensive or agitated when asked about something personal, and that’s the last thing you wanted him to feel.

But he’s looking at you expectantly, eyes fixed solely on you as he waited to hear what you had to say, so there was no getting out of it now. “I was wondering if you are okay lately. Like.. really okay, and not just saying you are so we don’t worry about you.” 

Oh. He was completely stunned by your words, unexpectedly taken aback. No one had ever said that to him before, and he didn’t know how to respond to such earnest concern for him. Obviously, he had been asked if he was okay plenty of times in his life, but never in a way such as this, that insinuated there was a lot more hiding below the surface.

And there was. Deep buried feelings gnawed at him, begging to be acknowledged, but he always pushed them down further, reasoning that now wasn’t the time and he’d confront them later, when the time was right. 

But when was the right time? It never came, no time ever feeling like the right one. Or maybe Chan just spent so much time avoiding his feelings that now he didn’t know how to confront them anymore. He was so used to sharing so little, that even his earnest efforts were still small in comparison to what most others were able to do.

But how did you realize that about him? Was it just coincidence, or were you already so acclimated to him that you could recognize the way his brain worked? “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” you said after his prolonged pause, worried that you did in fact make him uncomfortable as you feared.

“I– No, I was just surprised,” he finally responded, turning to look in the direction of his friends just as you had done a moment prior. They were all joking around, laughing loudly as they made the birthday boy wear a stupid party hat they picked up and putting frosting on his face, leaving Chan in his own little bubble with you. 

He turned his gaze back to you, wanting to say something, anything, but finding it difficult to speak, as usual. His words were trapped in his throat, refusing to come to the surface no matter how much effort he poured into trying. You took notice of his hesitancy, and decided to speak again in the hopes of giving him some comfort.

“I just– you’ve done a lot for me since I met you, more than anyone ever has, so… I want to be there for you too. If you need it, I mean, because I really, really care about you..” Your face heats up a bit when you’re finished speaking, feeling nervous from the admission. 

This must feel so out of the blue from Chan’s perspective, and that thought made you feel silly for bringing it up in the middle of a birthday party in the first place. And on top of that, you’d openly said how much you care about him, which is embarrassing all on its own. Even if it’s not a love confession by any means, it feels similar enough that it makes your heart pound like crazy. 

Chan’s face grew hot, positively burning, heart rate picking up drastically. He hopes you don’t notice the obvious red creeping on his features, or hear how fast his heart is beating against his chest. It wasn’t just the fact that he hadn’t expected this moment to happen that made him react this way, but the way you expressed your concern for him.

You wanted to support him, you wanted to make sure he was okay, you were thinking about him. Normal things, sure, but when coming from someone you have undeniable feelings for, it’s enough to make your blood pressure skyrocket. 

He swallowed, preparing himself to make another attempt at speaking. “Thank you, I really appreciate that,” he said, offering a timid smile your way to ease your growing anxiety as he continued, “It might be hard for me, but– but I’ll try, at the very least.. To tell you if I’m not okay, I mean.”

You returned his smile earnestly, evidently pleased with his response. You couldn’t ask him to open up easily or suddenly share all his close-held concerns and deeply buried thoughts, but the fact that he’d try and was open to it was what’s important. If he could trust you the way you had grown to trust him, that’d be more than enough for you to be happy.

From a distance, Felix had taken notice of the way you and Chan hadn’t joined in on the chaos of chasing Hyunjin around the kitchen to cover him with icing, and paused to look in your direction. The others stopped too when they noticed his pause, following his gaze to be met with the same sight of Chan’s burning face and the beaming smile you held towards him. They had hope, as much as Chan did, that there would come a day where the two of you would become a couple. 

Was it okay to be this happy? Was it okay for Chan to hope that you returned his feelings? Was it okay to plan his confession, to wonder how his life would look if you said yes, to picture himself kissing you and holding you close at all hours of the day?

There were still things he had to do first, things to get out of and people to get away from, but you were his driving force to do that. You were the motivation to turn his life into something better, the hope he needed to get through it all. 

Even if he didn’t deserve it, you made it worth trying. His life, which was plagued with bad memories and remorse for actions taken, became brighter and more livable when you were there to share it with him. Maybe it was okay to have someone to lean on, someone to confide in and share his burden with, someone to ground him and remind him that happiness is possible for him, and that it doesn’t always have to be a fleeting hope or dream. 

That’s what you were for him– hope in human form, a dream come true. Everything he wanted, everything he needed, beautiful and perfect in every way. And if you accepted his feelings, he’d never stop showing his appreciation to you, he’d shower you with all the love you could handle and then some, making sure you always knew just how much you meant to him.

There were many things in this life that left Park Jaehyung feeling resentful; the way adults expected absolute obedience from him, the way he was expected to be an exemplary student with no flaws, and the way society projected their version of ‘success’ onto him. He wanted to do what he wanted to do when he wanted to do it, with no one to tell him what is or isn’t proper.

All he wanted in life was to have fun and live by his own terms, consequences be damned. If he wanted to smoke, he’d do it. If he wanted to party, he’d do it. And if he wanted to get with a girl, even one who absolutely loathed his existence, he’d do it. So, what by far angered him more than anything else was the way Bang Chan had thrown himself into your life. 

Jae would say that he knew Chan and his crew fairly well, often finding themselves within the same spaces. And from an outside perspective, comparisons definitely could be made between them; after all, how different from each other could some ex-school delinquents be from a shady drop out that no one gave a shit about, and his friends that followed him around like lost puppies?

They’d often find themselves rooted in the same places, attending the same parties, pissing off or scaring the same people; but that was the extent of any similarity between them. Contrary to what an outsider may believe, Jae absolutely hated Chan, and anyone who would look at them and come to the conclusion that they were friends were blatant fucking morons. 

From Jae’s perspective, Chan was pretentious and irritating; he always had a holier than thou attitude, looking down on Jae and his friends as if he was any better. Who was Chan to preach about morals and principles? Who gives a fuck about any of that bullshit?

Jae certainly didn’t, and he was tired of being told he was ‘in the wrong.’ If Chan wanted to spend his whole life worrying about whether or not what he was doing was right or wrong, he could, but Jae wasn’t going to listen to it. Besides, it was pretty fucking ironic to get lectured by a “professional fixer" of all people. He really should drop the “I’m better than you” act.

But for the most part, Jae could live his everyday life without interacting with Chan, or seeing any of his loyal idiots. The occasional glare on the street or punch thrown at a party was the extent of their relationship, if you could even call it that. As long as both sides minded their own business, there wasn’t much conflict to be had.

Sure, Jaehyung would love to instigate a problem given how much he disliked them, but he wasn’t stupid enough to start a fight he wouldn’t assuredly win. Some might accuse him of cowardice, but he would argue that it was just being smart. There was nothing to be gained from a losing battle; it was better to bide his time, and wait for the right moment. And there was a critical piece missing in the “right moment” that he still needed; you. 

For as long as he could remember, Jae found school pointless. It was repetitive, boring, and everyone around him was exceedingly fake. They all wore such obvious masks, trying (and failing, in Jae’s opinion) to appear without fault. No one was perfect and he found it pitiful to even try and pretend they were.

No matter who you are or what you do, something will be flawed. There will always be something wrong with you, always something there for someone to criticize. So what was the point of it all? By the time he entered high school he was used to this monotony and the ignorance of his peers. 

And that’s when he saw you for the first time; shy, vulnerable, unmasked you. You weren’t trying to project anything to anyone that wasn’t authentically you, though at first he couldn’t tell if that was intentional or not. Maybe you simply had no reason to, or you were comfortable not to, or maybe didn’t even realize how different you were amongst the people he’d grown to hate.

Whatever the reason, he was intrigued by your ‘realness’ in a sea of two faced, judgemental people. You were smart but not boastful, kind but not pretentious, beautiful but seemingly modest; and he liked it. 

At first, his fixation with you started with simple curiosity driven observation. You were always at the top of the class but never once looked down on anyone below you. And while he personally found studying incredibly tedious and pointless, he did oddly admire how much you devoted yourself to it.

You weren’t born smart, at least he assumed so from how often he witnessed you studying, rather you reached your heights through effort and determination. And instead of finding it a worthless effort like he would if it were someone else, he found himself meeting a strange feeling he couldn't name. 

He wasn’t sure why, but watching you give your earnest effort to your studies didn’t piss him off like it did with everyone else. Normally he’d tell someone like you that they were wasting their time– studying was stupid, school was stupid, and anyone who cared about it was stupid as well. So why didn’t he have that same sentiment towards you? Why did he want to encourage you? 

Why did he want to always look at you? What was it about you that infatuated him so much? He could have any girl he wanted, ones who lined up with his view of the world and he could woo as easily as he could tie his shoe, but instead he always found his gaze landing on you.

To like someone like you went against everything he ever told himself, but maybe that was okay. Maybe you could change his perspective, make him the kind of person that could care about the shit he's supposed to.  

That’s why he approached you that day. He didn’t tell any of his friends what he was feeling or about his intentions to get to know you– it was something he wanted to do for himself. He didn’t want to look at you from afar anymore, he wanted to be next to you. He wanted to talk to you, get to know you, find out what makes you the person you are. 

And then his friend fucking ruined it. Maybe it was Jae’s own fault for always putting himself in the leader position, for being the kind of person who can’t let someone else take charge, because that meant he had people waiting on him.

In hindsight, it was obvious someone would notice his absence from the group and come seek him out, but it still pissed him off. And what pissed him off even more were the words his friend spoke. 

“I knew it! You do like her!”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Now what was he supposed to do? His friend’s smug fucking grin was infuriating. Who was he to look at Jae like that? He couldn’t admit he genuinely liked you or say he wanted to get to know you, he had a reputation to maintain.

So, he did the opposite of what he truly wanted to do. He treated you the same way he treated the girls he had flings with, acting like you were some lovesick puppy who couldn’t handle that he didn’t like you the way you liked him. 

You were going to hate him after that, he knew it; and maybe he was stupid for even thinking he could have genuine friendship with someone like you given the kind of guy he was. And why should he want that?

He doesn’t do shit like that, he never has, and the fact that you even managed to get into his head and make him doubt the way he’s lived so far pissed him off. You were just a girl, at the end of the day. 

And so his complicated, unresolved feelings of frustration and hatred were endlessly unleashed upon you, the undeserving outlet for his confusion and stubborn desire to never change his ways for anyone. He’d live his life the way he wanted, regardless of what anyone had to say about it, and like-minded people could come along for the ride as long as they recognized him as the one on top of it all. 

And you, the one he liked for a fleeting moment before it all came down on him; he wouldn’t let you go. Because whether you liked him or hated him, you wouldn’t be able to ignore him. As long as you felt something for him, even if that feeling was hate, fear, or dread, it was a feeling for him, and he’d take anything from you he could, because that was the best he was ever gonna get. 

When he saw you at that party, it felt like fate. God didn’t do favors for men like him, but maybe he could start to believe in shit like that if he kept getting blessed like this. When graduation day came, he was sure he’d never see you again. You were moving to god-knows-where, while he’d stay stuck in this shitty city with his shitty friends, doing the same shit he always does. 

Well, his time with you couldn’t last forever; this was the inevitable conclusion, after all. He’d just crash wherever he felt like it, work when he felt like it, and maybe get a girl on his arm to take your place when he felt like it. But then he saw you, at this random ass party he went to by chance, purely cause his friends were going and booze was promised. 

You hadn’t moved all that far, it turned out. You were still within his reach, and he had you now. Oh, and the look you gave him when your eyes met; he knew he missed it but damn, did it light a fire in him. He had you again, he had you, and then Chan fucking ruined it, like he ruins everything he comes in contact with. 

It was okay, he thought. There would be more chances, and Jae could be assured of the fact that no one fucking likes Chan, and you wouldn’t either. Now that he knew you weren’t all too far from where you grew up, he could find you again, and relive his glory days before they ever even faded. But every fucking time he saw you again, Chan was there, ruining it. 

Fuck, it infuriated him. And the way you looked at him? What the fuck was that? The way you smiled at him made him absolutely sick; Jae never knew you could smile like that, and why would he? He never did anything to warrant something like that from you. But if he didn’t get to have it, then why did Chan? Chan didn’t deserve shit, and especially not you. 

You smiled at him like he was the world, stared at him with twinkling eyes and a flushed face, let him wrap his arm around you and hold your hand with the most shy delight Jae had ever seen. And it all went to Chan? All your pretty looks and radiant smiles were for him? No, he couldn’t take that. If there was one thing Jae was going to do, it was going to be making sure he ruined it for Chan, the way that Chan ruined everything for him. 

And finally, his patience was rewarded, because he sees you walking alone in a shopping plaza not all too far away from where you go to school. It’s a popular spot for the local college students, carrying everything they need to get through their daily lives, as well as a few luxuries.

It’s not all that busy at this time of day however; it’s still fairly early on a Friday evening, and if Jae had to guess, that’s precisely why you’re here now, instead of an hour or two later when there will be a rush of students all looking to do some shopping or have a bit of weekend fun. 

He wasn’t here for you, having come instead to look for a hook-up, but he’s not going to ignore a perfectly good opportunity when it’s presented to him. He wastes no time in approaching, smiling as he does, eager to put a plan in motion to bring everything Chan wants crashing down on his fucking head.

You freeze when he calls your name, heart sinking as you register the voice you’re hearing. You know it all too well, never able to forget it. Despite your better judgment screaming at you to just keep walking, you turn in the direction you heard the voice to see Jaehyung standing against one of the plaza’s many support beams.

What was he doing here? You want to believe he didn't come out looking for you purposely, but you wouldn't put it past him; he's certainly capable of it. “Long time no chat, huh? Have you missed me?” he asked with the signature condescending tone you were once so familiar with. 

“What do you want?” You ask sternly, deciding you absolutely will not entertain any of his mocking. “Wow, so hostile already,” Jae fakes a disappointed sigh as he crosses his arms, “That’s pretty brave of you given your guard dog is nowhere in sight.”

You glare at him as you stick your hands in your pockets, wanting to have your phone at the ready in case he tries something with you. “If you touch me you’ll regret it. Chan will know it was you,” you say, trying to sound braver than you feel. You had no doubt that Chan would kick Jae's ass if he did anything to you, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t try anyways if he really wanted to. 

“Yeah, you’re right, which is why I’m not gonna do any of that shit. I just wanna talk to you," Jaehyung says, and your brow immediately raises in suspicion. He just wants to talk to you? Yeah fucking right. “Talk about what? There’s nothing I want to hear from you,” you counter, and he chuckles, having fully expected a reaction like that. 

“Just hear me out. How well do you know Chan? Like really know him?” he counters back. “..Why?” you ask with a frown. You wanted to say you knew Chan well, but the truth is that there’s still a lot about him you don’t have insight on.

Despite that, you’re sure that anything Jae has to say about him isn’t going to be the truth, and you certainly won’t let anything from Jae’s mouth change how you feel about someone. Especially not Chan. 

“Mm, I see,” Jae responds, seemingly amused at the way you refuse to offer anything up. “How about this then, do you know what he does for a living?” You narrow your eyes at his question. What is he getting at by asking you something like that?

“He works at a convenience store,” you respond flatly, not wanting to give away anything you feel from his pestering. “Oh, does he? Are you sure about that?” he responds with a sarcastic smile that leaves you feeling uneasy. “What are you insinuating?” 

“Do you really think that the money he makes at a convenience store earns him enough money to pay for that big ass house he lives in? All the food they eat, their bills, school expenses, everything? Even with a hell of a lot of overtime and his friends pitching in, that’s a bit unrealistic, don’t you think?” he once again counters your question with one of his own, clearly trying to plant seeds of doubt about Chan within you. “Cmon, you’re smarter than that, why don’t you think about it harder?"

You glare at him again, refusing to listen any further or reach whatever conclusion he is attempting to bring you to. “Whatever you’re trying to say about Chan, I don’t care. Tell it to someone else.” You start to turn to walk away, feeling fed up with his game at this point, but he quickly grabs your arm to stop you. 

“Let go,” you protest as you try to tug your arm away, but he tightens his grip. “Just listen,” he says as he keeps a firm hold on you, “Chan isn’t as good as you think he is.” You scoff at his words. As if someone like him was any better?

You’d take Chan over him any day, no matter what it is you don’t know about him. “You’re going to lecture me on good people? After all you’ve done to me? Whatever Chan may or may not be involved in, I’d take my chances with him rather than spend even another second around you.” 

Jae’s face contorts in anger at your words, and he roughly throws your arm back at you. “Fine, go fuck your piece of shit criminal boyfriend and see where it gets you!” 

…What?

Jae sees the shock and confusion clearly on your face, and his usual smug smile replaces the scowl he held just a moment ago. “What, you didn’t know? He does some real bad shit in his free time, sweetheart. I wouldn’t be surprised if he gets arrested one of these days,” he returns to his mocking tone, clearly trying to get even more of a reaction out of you. 

“I don’t believe you,” you respond and he laughs, as if he expected to hear that. “Of course you don’t. But I can prove it to you.” “Prove it how?” you question despite your better judgment. You know you shouldn’t indulge Jae by leaning into whatever he was trying to make you think, but if there was some semblance of truth in his statement.. What would that mean for Chan? For his brothers, and for you?

“Meet up with me later, you’ll see then,” he says plainly and you frown in response. “I trust you even less than I believe you,” you say as you cross your arms and Jae laughs again; you certainly have gotten more of a spine since the last time he saw you. "Like you said, they'd know it was me if something happens to you. I really have nothing to gain from tricking you unless I have a death wish.” 

You narrow your eyes, contemplating the situation before making any definite decision. You supposed what he was saying is true at least; anything he tried would get back to the guys, and they’d make him regret it with no hesitation.

But even so, you were still hesitant to go along with this. You really didn’t want to give him any satisfaction by buying into whatever he was trying to tell you, but now there was a gnawing feeling in the back of your head telling you that if it was true, and Chan is a criminal, you needed to know. 

“..Fine, but don’t expect me to go anywhere private with you,” you finally say, a knot building in your stomach as you commit to seeing what Jae thinks is so terrible about Chan. “Fine with me, princess, just show up where I tell you to and you’ll see everything you need to,” he smirks at you and your stomach churns, both from the smug look on his face and the nauseating nickname.

“I’ll reach out, so don’t chicken out, ‘kay? I expect to see you,” he grins before he turns away, leaving you to resume your evening. As he gets further away, guilt and uncertainty begins to creep up on you. What if this is something you and Chan can never come back from? What if you can never trust each other again? Is it worth potentially losing someone so special to you? You hope beyond words that this isn’t a decision you’ll come to regret.

It takes Jae a week to reach out to you again, doing so on social media cause there was absolutely no way in hell you’d ever give him your phone number. You also didn’t see Chan much that week, the guilt and worry eating away at you every time you looked at him, knowing that at some point, Jae was supposedly going to present you with evidence of Chan being a bad person. You still don’t believe that he is, but you need to put this to rest yourself, and not give room for any doubts about Chan to live in your head. 

The address Jae sends you is indeed a public one, a relatively large park just outside of the city that you imagine is popular with the families that live close to it. At the time you’re going though, there definitely won’t be any families there. You have reservations about meeting up with Jae at night, even if it’s at a public place, but he insists that night is the only time that’ll work because “people don’t do shady shit during the day” apparently. 

Begrudgingly, you go to the park well before the appointed hour, passing the time on a bench until Jae shows up, having your phone at the ready just in case this is all some sort of elaborate plot to get you where he wants you. He grins when he sees you, shooting you a wave that you don’t reciprocate. “Nice to see you,” he says with a smirk as he walks up to you. 

“Can’t say the same about you,” you respond flatly, “let’s just get this over with.” “Gladly,” he responds, motioning for you to stand up. You do, hesitantly, and he walks over to a small hill at the edge of the park, walking up it and expecting you to follow.

“What are we doing?” you ask, cautiously taking steps to reach the top. “Look there,” Jae points across the street, where street lights illuminate a rather empty street, with a small alley just within your line of sight. “Just wait, this won’t take long,” he says, holding his characteristically smug smile as he leans his weight against a tree.

You frown as you turn your attention back to the street, looking around for anything you’re supposed to be noticing but aren’t, but you don’t notice anything in particular of importance. On top of that, your mind is at war with itself, one part scolding you for really following along with this, while the other demands you see it through so you can put any doubts about Chan’s character to rest.

“There we go,” Jae says enthusiastically as two figures appear on the street walking next to each other, one man that you don’t recognize and one that you definitely do- Chan.

“What is this?” you ask, not sure what’s so critically important about watching Chan walk the street with some guy you don’t know. “You’ll see, just don’t take your eyes off him,” Jae responds, pointing forward and urging you to not look away for even a moment. 

The pair step into the alley, and while there’s no light to illuminate them fully when they’re off the main street, you can still see them well enough. They’re talking, you think, calmly at first, but then it becomes more animated, with the stranger becoming increasingly more expressive with his arms and hands.

He’s.. panicked? He takes a step back, trying to put distance between himself and Chan, but then it happens- a punch thrown, by none other than Chan himself. He hits the man hard, and he crumples to the ground instantly, arms coming up to protect his head after he’s hit the floor.

That should be it, you think, but no, it continues, with Chan throwing punch after punch, unrelenting. You can hear the main cry out in pain now, his voice carrying easily to you in the otherwise silent area. You don’t understand- what is Chan doing? You’ve never seen him like this, but surely there’s a reason, right? 

Chan reaches into the man's pockets now, fishing for something, and he finds it soon enough- his wallet. You watch in disbelief as Chan takes the money and shoves it in his own pocket, throwing the wallet back at the man as if it’s worthless now. When he emerges from the alley, it’s even worse- you can see the blood on his knuckles, can see how it drips down to the ground, evidence that there was no mistake in what you saw. 

“Chan!” Jae calls out enthusiastically, rushing down the hill to make his way to him, “Thanks for the show!” Chan looks visibly surprised to see Jae running up to him, but then sighs, rolling his eyes as Jae approaches him.

You move down the hill hesitantly, not sure if Chan has noticed you’re here too, but hoping for some kind of explanation. “Why were you watching?” You can hear Chan question as you start to get to the bottom of the hill. 

“What, can’t a guy watch? It’s entertaining seeing a shitty guy get what's comin’ to him,” Jae answers and Chan scoffs before he holds his hand out to Jae, clearly waiting to be given something. “Ironic coming from you. But whatever, I did what you asked, so just pay me so we can get out of here.”

“Yeah, yeah, good doin’ business with you and shit,” Jae smiles as he reaches into his pocket, putting a large stack of bills into Chan’s hand. Jae looks back at you then, who is still standing across the street at the bottom of the park’s hill, confusion and disbelief threatening to rip your brain apart as it tries to make sense of everything.

“There you go princess, all the proof you need,” he says with a smirk; he accomplished exactly what he was hoping to- anything you had with Chan is ruined. Chan is clearly confused, and follows Jae’s gaze straight to you, who he realizes just witnessed the entire exchange. His face changes in an instant when his eyes meet yours, blood draining from his face and eyes going wide.

Jae says something to him then, but he says it so low that you can’t hear it, and Chan’s gaze remains fixed on you, as if Jae isn’t even there anymore. “Well, I’ll leave you two to sort this out. And don’t worry about the guy in the alley, he’s a good friend of mine so I’ll get him home,” he says in a smug tone, clearly happy with the situation he’s created. 

“Fuck you Jae,” you bite as you shove past him, rushing up to Chan who has begun to hurriedly step away from the scene. You hear Jae laugh behind you, but you ignore it, fixed on your goal. You need to talk to Chan. “Chan, please wait!” you call to him, doing your best to keep up with him despite how much faster he is than you.

You know what happened just now is wrong, that whatever is going on with him is bad, but you need to hear him tell you why he’s doing it, you need to know what’s going through his head. “Chan-” you’re about to plead again but he stops, allowing you to catch up with him.

He slowly turns to you, hesitant to meet your gaze even as you look up at him. Fuck, he felt so stupid. How could he believe you'd never find out about his secret life? How could he believe that one day you'd be with him happily?

He was so incredibly naive, and he hated it, hated how he had tricked himself into believing he could have normalcy and happiness with someone else. Who was he kidding? There was no way he'd ever be allowed to live a life like that. 

“..I need to call Changbin, and then I’ll take you home,” he says lowly as he takes his phone out of his pocket, and you watch as he puts some distance between you, not trying to get away from you but just far enough to have as private of a conversation with Changbin as he can.

“Hey hyung, what’s up?” Changbin’s voice comes through jovially on the other end, but he can tell immediately something is wrong when all he hears is a shaky exhale as Chan tries to find the words. “Hyung, what’s wrong?” A million possibilities race through Changbin’s mind; he knows what Chan does for extra cash, and he knows the dangers that can come from it.

He’s trying not to assume the worst, but fuck, whatever happened must be bad if Chan is choked up on the other end. “I’m gonna be late coming home tonight. I, uh.. I need to take Y/N home. She’s with me,” Chan says and Changbin is quiet for a moment as he processes the information he was given. “I thought you had a job tonight, though. Are you saying..?”

“Yeah, she saw me,” Chan interjects, not even needing to let Changbin finish his question. “Fuck, okay, just.. Take your time, alright? Don’t rush to come home, we’re fine. I’ll let the others know you'll be out a while, just take care of Y/N.”

“Yeah, I will.. Thanks, I’ll see you later,” Chan mutters into the phone before he hangs up, stuffing it back into his pocket and taking another shaky breath before he turns back to you. “Chan-” you start when you see him walking back over to you, but he quickly cuts you off.

“Let’s get you home, I didn’t park my car too far from here,” he says tersely, walking briskly towards the end of the street. You frown, but decide not to dwell on it too much; you can’t imagine what he must be feeling right now, and the last thing you want to do is make the situation even worse than it already is. 

You follow him swiftly, trying not to be concerned about the silence between you. It doesn’t take long for you to see his car, parked in a nearby empty parking lot, the only car in sight. Chan doesn’t drive much, his car basically reserved strictly for work and emergencies, so you’ve only been in it a handful of times.

You wonder now though if this is the reason he only uses it when he has to– do police know his license plate? You don’t know if you’re ready to find out the answer to that question. 

When you reach his car, he unlocks it wordlessly, and you both enter quietly, neither of you uttering a single thing even as he starts the engine and pulls onto the street. You want to try talking to him again but you aren't sure if you should even try yet; he's very clearly upset but if he's not ready to talk about it yet then there's nothing you can do. 

Truthfully, Chan desperately wants to say something, hating the silence he was subjecting you to, but found himself at a loss for words and stuck in his own head. Jae's words before he walked away rang in his mind over and over again. "If you think a good girl like her can fall in love with trash like you, you're pathetic." And it was true, he was pathetic.

It was pathetic to pretend he could have a better life than this. Pathetic to think you would always be with him. Pathetic to think anything about him was worthy of love. What kind of happy life was he hoping for when this is what his life was truly like?

He knew there was no easy way out of this kind of shit once you entered it, but at the time he really had no choice. He tried everything else possible and there was nothing left; and even with how dangerous he knew it could be he was resolved to see it through because when he began he was just a kid in desperate need of cash at any cost.  

He wishes things could be different now. He didn't want you to ever see this side of his life, to see the kinds of things he had to do to afford all of the things a person needs to survive. And while the rational part of Chan's brain was telling him there was no way you'd just walk away or hate him, it was overpowered by the wave of self loathing washing over him. 

Because even if you didn't hate him after this, could you love him? Could you even still look at him the same way you could just last week, when you gave him that bright smile you always did. Would you still want to confide in him? To rely on him? To let him rely on you? He doesn’t know if you realized it, but Chan has come to rely on you a lot. 

Not in the overt ways like asking for help or opening up about his deepest thoughts, which he only did on occasion, but in the normalcy you offered him. In your presence, Chan felt like the life he wanted was attainable, like he could leave all the bad behind him and have something good.

You were always there to distract him from the life he led privately, to give him a sense of peace. He could be comfortable around you, and allow himself to relax. He could be carefree and live in the moment instead of being stressed about what the future held for him. He could forget about all his regrets just from seeing you smiling up at him.

Late at night when insomnia was gripping him, he would look over your messages fondly and wonder what it would be like to share a bed one day. For you to be next to him on his worst nights and help lull him into a peaceful sleep that he wasn't normally rewarded. To kiss you awake and bask in how beautiful you’d be naked with the morning sun glowing around you. 

To Chan, any chance of that future with you was taken away the moment you saw the ugly truth of his life. Even if by some miracle you decided you still wanted to be around him, he knew it wouldn't be the same. There was no way your view of him wouldn't be tainted after this.

You'd become strained, being pulled away from each other little by little until nothing was left of the friendship you once held, or of the feelings he'd hoped to admit to you when he was able to leave behind the things that bound him. He should just leave your life now, before things get even worse; the pain he'd have to endure if he held on now would become unbearable.

You'd distance yourself from him, you'd meet a good guy who actually deserves you and fall in love, you'd forget all about him.. And that's how it should be. You deserved better than him; he knew he had nothing of worth to offer you. 

And he was sure in response you'd bring up how he was there for you and supported you, but anyone could do that. That was the bare minimum of a relationship. What did he have to offer you other than support? There was nothing he could think of that felt good enough or like he was worthy of anyone's time, much less yours.

It was better to get the heartbreak over with now.. it would hurt, but much less so than if he prolonged the process. He needed to just rip the bandaid off now and get it over with for both your sakes. He couldn't delay the inevitable.

You felt stiff, the silence deafening as he drove you to your dorm. You couldn't tell what Chan was feeling anymore, his face completely void of anything, as if he turned his emotions off entirely. You didn't know what to do; he cut you off when you tried to speak to him earlier, and now it seemed like anything you said now wouldn't reach him. It was as if he was running on autopilot, like he wasn't truly there with you anymore. 

It didn't take all that long to reach your street given that you were traveling by car, and you felt dread welling in your gut. You wanted to talk to him, to tell him you know he must have his reasons, that you understand that life is cruel and he's probably just doing what he has to, to tell him you understand why he didn't tell you but that you want to hear him out and be there for him regardless. You were approaching your dorm now, and you turned to look at him once again. 

He was so close but felt so far away, his face remaining devoid of emotion. His gaze didn't meet yours, instead he stared straight ahead at the street even after he parked, as if purposely avoiding your eyes. "Chan.." you start again, hoping he'll finally respond to you. You see him swallow and his hands tense up, clutching the steering wheel tighter now. 

His lower lip begins to tremble, but he tells himself he can't give in. This is what is best for you, he's sure of it. Just rip the bandaid off now, it'll be better that way. He can't make your life worse if he steps away now. He can't give himself false hope if he lets you go now. "Chan, I–" "Just go inside," he cuts you off, the pain evident in his voice despite how hard he's trying to mask it. 

"But I–" "Don't. Please don't. Just go." Tears well in your eyes, but you obliged, feeling like now isn't the time to push him on anything. Chan doesn't watch as you exit the car, nor does he acknowledge the way you look back at him one last time before you enter your dorm.

It's better this way. It's better this way. It's better this way. He lowers his head to the steering wheel, resting his forehead against his shaking hands. And for the first time in years, he really cries, knowing that you'll never look at him the same again. 

You woke up the next morning with the hopes that Chan was ready to talk to you. You texted him when you were in bed last night, telling him that you care about him and that you just want to talk to him, but he left you with no response.

You reasoned with yourself that he’d need more time; Jaehyung unveiling Chan’s deepest secret to you must have shaken him far more than you can imagine, and it makes sense that he’d need time to process. 

Chan led an undeniably hard life, you knew that well at this point; he lost his parents young, his adoptive family were terrible to him, and he dropped out and left them behind to try to make it on his own. He never shared any details about the things he had to do as a child to get by, just leaving it at simple statements that offered no further context.

And you weren’t deluded into expecting anything from him; regardless of details he did or didn’t share, you knew he had been through a lot and you weren’t going to ask anything of him that he wasn’t prepared to offer up himself. 

You figured that one day, when Chan had grown comfortable enough and was assured that you were a safe person to share the details of his life with, he’d break down his barriers on his own. All you had to do was be there for him, be consistent with your words and actions, and offer him a safe space to be his authentic self; whatever that self may be. 

And while this wasn’t the outcome you had expected, you hoped that all your efforts up until now had shown him that you were someone he could trust. You weren’t going to judge him, you weren’t going to abandon him, your opinion of him hadn’t changed with the truth. And you told him as much through messages, hoping that when he read them that he’d believe your words.

When he didn’t respond you were saddened, but it had only been a few hours since everything took place so you didn’t fault him. You were sure he just needed time, and you didn’t want to put any further pressure on him when he was clearly upset, so instead you just offered kind words to assure him everything was okay. 

However, as the days passed on, you began to lose hope that he’d ever respond. You did your best to stop the sadness encroaching in your heart, telling yourself that there could be a ton of reasons he isn’t speaking to you right now. You shouldn’t jump to conclusions, there was surely a reasonable explanation.

His life didn’t revolve around you after all, and a small break in communication shouldn’t linger over you like this. You continued to comfort yourself with rational explanations as you went about your days, hoping with all your heart that you weren’t just deluding yourself.

Felix, who saw you most days due to your routine of coming into the cafe he worked at, could see the toll it was taking on you to have Chan not talk to you. He didn’t even know what exactly happened; Changbin said the two of you had a tiff, but that it should resolve itself after a bit since the two of you cared so much about each other.

But as time went on, with Chan so distant and holed up in his room unless he was working, he wasn’t so sure that whatever went on between you was something minor. And then when you stopped in one morning, you confirmed what Felix already feared; that Chan’s isolation didn’t extend to just them, but to you as well.

He wasn’t replying to any of your texts, and that made Felix’s concern for the two of you grow tenfold. So he talked about it with the others in the house, and the 3 of them agreed that you should come over to try and make whatever happened right. And besides, all of you were friends, so it only made sense to facilitate a resolution between you. 

They ask you over on a friendly pretense; it’s been a while since you all hung out together, and some fun seemed like it was much needed. You were nervous given the state of your friendship with Chan, but ultimately agreed because you really did miss them as well.

Changbin was the one to answer the door when you arrived at their house, smiling and easing your anxiety by making casual conversation with you. Hyunjin and Felix smiled as well when they saw you, greeting you warmly and offering you hugs before you sat down on the couch. 

Hyunjin sat next to you, while Changbin and Felix sat on the chairs nearby. “Is Chan here?” you asked, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you glanced toward the stairs. “Not yet, but he will be soon! While we wait, we should figure out dinner. Anything you want?” Felix suggests and you smile as you nod, feeling comforted by the fact that you have such good friends. 

Chan walks into the house not much later, freezing up once further inside and seeing you sitting there with his brothers. “Hey hyung, we’re just ordering some food before we have a movie night! You should join us,” Felix smiles, hoping that once Chan sees you all together, he can put aside whatever made him so upset and can go back to how things were before. 

Your heart breaks when you look at him, noticing that his dark circles are worse than before, hurt by the knowledge that he must’ve lost even more sleep than he already does, and it’s all your fault. He avoids your gaze, looking instead at his brothers; he knew this was bound to happen, you became friends with them just as much as him, after all.

And while Changbin knew the real reason behind Chan’s distance from you, the other 2 didn’t, so of course they’d invite you over to the house and try to rebuild the bridge that he’d burnt. But he couldn’t take it; the way all of you stared at him, expecting something from him.

You swallow, trying your best not to cry as you look at him, waiting for him to say something to ease all the sadness and anxiety within you. “..No, thanks,” he mutters, going quickly up the stairs and straight to his room, the sound of his door closing clearly heard once he’s reached it. Dejection settles in your gut, your heart shattering into more pieces than you could possibly count. 

Changbin, who is sitting directly across from you, is the first to see your crestfallen expression, and he tries to offer you words of consolation, but you can barely even hear them. You stare down at your lap, trying to blink away the tears that welled in your eyes. Would he never speak to you again? Did you irreparably damage his trust in you? Why wouldn’t he say anything to you?

He was the first person in your life to ever see what Jae was doing to you and help, and he brought with him the kindest people you had ever known. He supported you through your tears, he protected you from the people who wanted to hurt you most.

He listened to you as you talked about your life's worries, even when it was something silly like not wanting to do the night's homework. Chan became a constant in your life, truly living up to his promise to be there for you during any and everything, both good and bad. And now that same person was pulling away from you for reasons you couldn’t understand. 

The tears begin pouring before you can even try to stop them, falling to your lap and darkening the fabric of your pants where they fall. Hyunjin notices right away, and pulls you into a hug, trying his best to comfort you by assuring you that nothing happening was your fault.

“It is my fault,” you choke out between sobs, burying your face in Hyunjin’s shoulder as sobs escape you. Felix quickly moves in next to you as well, rubbing your back and offering just as much kindness as his brother. 

Changbin’s expression turns into a grimace as he listens to you sniffle and sob, how you blame yourself for everything that was happening despite his brother’s best efforts to calm your aching heart. What the fuck is Chan doing? 

Felix watches him stand, a look of concern painted on his features; nothing good happens when Changbin is angry. “I’ll be back,” he says with irritability clear in his voice, stepping away from the chair and to the stairs. 

He reaches Chan’s bedroom door in a matter of seconds, trying the door knob without hesitation and is pleasantly surprised to find it unlocked. Good, so he didn’t have to pound at the door and make him come out then. He opens it swiftly, met with the sight of Chan simply sitting on his bed, doing not much of anything.

Chan frowns as he turns to his now open door, but isn’t all that surprised at this turn of events. He knew one of them would confront him eventually, and Changbin wasn’t one to hold his tongue if something was on his mind. It was only a matter of time before Chan got what he was anticipating.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Changbin questions, wasting no time at getting straight to the point. Chan expected that Changbin wouldn’t waste any time dancing around the subject, but he still wasn’t prepared to unearth the extent of his self loathing.

Was he really going to admit how pathetic he felt out loud? Admit to how much he hated himself? Admit to how he felt unworthy of anyone’s time? The silence only served to spur on Changbin’s annoyance, and he crosses his arms as he steps closer to Chan. “Are you really not going to say anything?” 

Chan looks up at Changbin from his seat, meeting his accusatory gaze. “It’s better this way.” he says and Changbin scoffs in response, clearly finding his answer unsatisfactory. “Oh yeah? Y/N crying her eyes out because you refuse to acknowledge her is better?”

Chan’s heart squeezes in his chest at hearing that you’re crying, but he still knew it was for the best. After the initial pain she’ll move on and forget about me like she should. She shouldn’t want someone like me. She shouldn’t support someone like me. I have nothing. I am nothing. 

“Yeah, it’s better.” Chan manages to force the words out. “What about what you promised her? Are you going to sit around and do nothing if Jae targets her again?” Changbin’s voice raises, not quite a yell but still louder than his previous speaking tone.

“She still has you and the others.” Chan frowns as he answers. It’s not like he was leaving you completely alone and defenseless; his friends were your friends too now, and he knew they wouldn’t let anything happen to you. 

“We’re not the ones she wants,” Changbin nearly shouts, and Chan tenses at this, the statement clearly striking a chord in him. “That’s the whole problem! I shouldn’t be the one she wants!” Chan shouts suddenly as he stands from his bed now, seemingly unable to control the sudden outburst.

He freezes after realizing he just said what he was thinking out loud for Changbin to hear; now he knows how pathetic and cowardly he truly is, and there would be no taking it back. Changbin’s brows furrow in bewilderment as he stares at Chan.

He understood that what Chan did to make money has risks, and he understood why he wouldn’t want you to be a part of that. What he couldn’t understand was why Chan was shutting you out now that you knew about it. Why was he needlessly subjecting you to pain when, in his opinion, you could simply talk it out? 

From Changbin’s perspective, everything would be okay. You clearly didn’t think negatively of him after the reveal, you were still seeking him out and wanting to be near him regardless of what you’d found out about him. And even if you did harbor some ill feeling about it that Changbin couldn’t notice, you were at least trying. 

You weren’t going to let something you cared about go over a single event, unlike Chan, who was acting like a fucking coward right now. He was throwing everything away, and for what? He just couldn’t wrap his head around it.

“You’re being a fucking idiot,” Changbin scowls. “You just don’t understand,” Chan counters and Changbin scoffs at the statement. “Then make me understand. What am I not getting here? I’d love to know.” Changbin challenged him, words dripping with frustration. 

You don’t understand that she’s too good for trash like me. What is there to love about me? What can I offer her that couldn’t be given by someone else? What kind of life can we live together with the things I've done? She’s smart, ambitious, beautiful..

She can strive for better life and a better person. Someone with high aspirations. Someone who has a better education. Someone who didn’t lead a dangerous life and could put her in danger just by association.  

But instead of saying all that he just averts his gaze, stepping down from Changbin’s challenge without a word. “Fine then, you can have fun with your pity party by yourself, cause I’m not staying to watch it,” Changbin bites as he swiftly turns his back to Chan, preparing to leave his room.

“You may be willing to treat a promise like it’s nothing, but don’t expect the rest of us to be okay with it.” He leaves as soon as he’s finished, slamming Chan’s door behind him as he goes.

Right. This is what he deserves. To have nothing and no one, just like before. Because why should he have anything good after what he’s done? He wanted to be the good person you saw him as, but he just isn’t.

He’s the worst kind of hypocrite, his virtue circumstantial and fleeting. The good things he did for the people he cared about didn’t cancel out all the bad that came before it, forever staining him no matter how many layers he scrubbed. 

He tried to comfort himself by saying he did it because he had to, because he had no other choice and couldn’t afford to live otherwise, but did it matter? Could he say he lived a life his parents would be proud of? No, but you made him want to try.

And he was trying, so, so hard; to leave all that bad shit behind, to be someone worth caring about, to be better. But there are some things that never change, some things that can’t be left behind or escaped from no matter what you do, and he supposes this is just another reminder of that lesson. 

The weeks that followed Chan’s refusal to see you were easily the most painful of your life. You’d never experienced a heartbreak like this before, any pain you thought you felt before paling in comparison to the utter anguish you felt from the loss of Chan in your life.

At least before, when you had become distant and separated from friends, you still had contact; you could message each other freely, you could meet up during school breaks or even weekends if time permitted, you still had your bond despite being in different places. But with Chan, it felt like he burnt every bridge he ever had with you. 

You gave up trying to talk to him all together, letting the amount of messages you’d send in a day fizzle more and more, until they inevitably reached zero. In your daily life, you still had the others, but it didn’t feel the same; you felt like an intruder now, like you were encroaching on their space.

You felt like you would just cause strife by being there, so eventually you stopped accepting invitations to hang out with them. Even when you saw them away from the house, you couldn’t meet their smiles the way you once had, because all it did was deepen the ache in your heart.

You wanted to appreciate it, to thank them for trying to keep your friendship alive, but every time it just served as a reminder that Chan wouldn't be there for you anymore. You also felt at fault for causing a rift between them.

Though you stopped staying around the group pretty soon after Chan made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you, you could tell things weren’t the same between them anymore. Changbin especially always seemed to be upset with him, calling him an idiot or a coward, making his distaste for what happened well known.

Hyunjin would continue to assure you that nothing was your fault, that Chan just had complicated feelings to work through, but despite his words, you couldn’t stop yourself from feeling at fault regardless. If Chan had never helped you in the first place that day he saw Jae on you, their friendship wouldn’t be in this state.

If you were a stronger person back then, someone who could handle things by herself, then he wouldn’t have had to step in. And now even Felix makes an effort to comfort you all the time, going as far as to give you an extra cookie and discounting your coffee whenever you’re in his cafe.

They always showed you just how kind they were, compassionate beyond words and so patient (well, maybe except Changbin, who definitely was not patient.) Truly, you admired them, and Chan above all, who they credited for bringing them together and making them who they are in the first place.

But now that same person who you had quickly grown to admire so much was avoiding you on all fronts, leaving you with nothing else to do but move on or wait for him to come to terms with whatever he was struggling with.

And truthfully you didn’t want to move on, but waiting wasn’t becoming any easier. Despite the fact that he was within reach, there was nothing you could do. Every glimpse you caught of him or reminder of his absence from his friends left your heart aching in your chest. 

Before you realize it, your last class of the day has ended, and you sigh as you look down at your nonexistent notes. You found it difficult lately to focus on your work with your mind cycling through all its thoughts about Chan.

You used to find an escape in your school work; even if everything was crashing around you, you could pour your energy into your work, and find some satisfaction with the good grades you got in exchange for your efforts. But now even that was difficult for you, and you sighed as you knew you’d have to play catch up in your spare time if you wanted to maintain your grades. 

It was the first time in your life you’d ever felt so inadequate; even though it was merely a stress induced performance loss, it still tanked the confidence you had in your ability to succeed, which was the last thing you needed to add to your growing list of problems.

Your only saving grace at this point was that Changbin agreed to help you out, and that your professors were gracious enough to let you re-do assignments or get in some extra credit (which they only did because of the good track record you had before your personal life tanked.) 

Truthfully, you felt terrible requesting Changbin’s help to catch back up in your classes, but he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. He thankfully agreed to study away from the house so you wouldn’t risk seeing Chan, and having your heart shatter again after having just managed to start picking up the pieces.

You text him now that your class has ended to make sure the study session is still on, and with his confirmation, you decide it’d be a good idea to head back to your room and prepare to meet up with him. It takes you no more than 15 minutes to get back to the dorms from where your last class was, and you spend a decent amount of time cramming your bag full of all the textbooks and supplementary materials you’ll need for the evening.

The plan was to study together at Sunshine Cafe, where the two of you could sprawl your belongings out on one of the coffee tables towards the back and sit on the comfort of the couch, while Felix would provide you with snacks and drinks to get you through the brain overload you’d certainly begin to feel. 

It’ll still be some time before Changbin meets up with you given that your class schedules don’t entirely align, but it’d still be good to head out and get some self study in until he gets there. And you could really use a change in secenery given that all you've done lately is go to you classes and then straight back to your dorm when they were over.

Once assured you have everything you need tucked in your bag, you sling it over your shoulders, letting your roommates know you might not be home till late before you head out. Walking to the cafe with all the extra weight on your back and shoulders certainly isn’t pleasant, but you’ll just have to deal with it if you want to make sure you do well on your catch-up assignments and upcoming exams.

And all in all, you actually feel pretty good right now; your friendship with Chan and emotional state might be in shambles, but at least you’re trying your best to pick yourself back up, and that’s what matters most, right? 

But all that positivity you feel is drained in an instant, when at the end of the street you’re on, you see Jae standing right in your path, looking at you with a smile once he notices you’re there. You curse, knowing you still have a few blocks to traverse before you reach your destination, and that anything could happen in the time it takes to get there. 

He starts to approach you, smirking as he does- you don’t know what he has planned when he reaches you, but you don’t want to find out. Did he know that Chan stopped being there for you? Does he think that now that Chan is out of your life he can do whatever he wants? Or was it a cruel coincidence that he saw you here, a coincidence that he now plans on taking advantage of? 

You still have the others, but it’s extremely possible that Jae either doesn’t know, doesn’t care, or is willing to risk it now that Chan being out of the picture takes away one of his biggest threats. There’s a slight hope that maybe he just wants to say something, rubbing salt in your wound by saying “I told you so,” and then he’d go on his way, but the look in his eyes tells you otherwise.

He has the same insidious look you saw every day when you were in school together, the twisted delight in his eyes that told you whatever you were in for wouldn’t be pleasant. You quickly turn the other direction, ducking into a side street you’d passed moments prior, hoping that you can either use the side streets to make it to the cafe or make Jae lose sight of you.

If you were lucky, you’d make it there with no problems, and Felix could shelter you in the cafe until Jae left on his own or Changbin showed up and made him leave. You hear Jae’s laugh behind you, and you panic as you notice that he’s catching up to you much quicker than you’d hoped, the weight of your countless textbooks and study materials definitely not doing you any favors. 

Shit- what do you do now? It becomes increasingly apparent that Jae catching up to you is inevitable, and there is nowhere for you to turn to escape him. As quickly as you can, you grab your phone from out of your bag, hoping that Jae doesn’t realize what you’re doing.

You needed to call Chan; you weren’t even sure if he’d uphold the promise he made to you at this point, but what other hope did you have? Chan was the person who said he’d always answer if you called him, and you wanted to believe that. No, you had to believe that. 

Not wasting any further time thinking about it, you send Chan a ping of your location before promptly pressing the call button on his name, haphazardly shoving your phone back in your bag and praying that Jae doesn’t notice as thing when he reaches you. 

Chan frowned as he sat on his couch, once again thinking about you despite his best efforts to get you off his mind. Despite how much he knew it was best to detach himself from you, he still found himself unable to do so easily.

Maybe it was his underlying selfishness that didn’t want to let you go, or that his feelings for you had just grown far too much to be quashed, but he couldn’t help but continue to worry about you every day. He felt stupid being so upset about a decision he made, that he truly felt was the right thing to do, but the right decisions are never the easy ones, or so the saying goes. 

But still, the gnawing feeling continued to eat away at him day after day. ”You’re seeing Y/N today right?” he couldn’t help himself from asking Changbin before he left for the day, and he rolled his eyes, giving Chan an incredulous look.

“So you care all of a sudden, huh? Heard me talking about it with Felix? Yeah, we’re meeting up when my classes are over. But don’t worry,” Changbin says with a mildly sarcastic tone before he continues, “I’ll do a good job of looking after her since you won’t.” 

Chan frowned at Changbin’s tone, but he knows it isn’t entirely undeserved given the circumstances. You’re their friend too after all, and he wouldn’t talk kindly to this either if the roles were reversed and it was someone else doing this to you.

“Binnie-hyung is still giving you a hard time, I see,” Hyunjin said as he stepped in from the kitchen, sitting next to Chan with his breakfast in hand. Chan just sighed in response, closing his eyes and letting his head hit the back of the couch. 

Was he really doing the right thing or was he just deluding himself into thinking so? Even putting aside the fact that he hasn’t loved himself a day in his life, isn't it just objectively true that you should want nothing to do with him? He knows you care about him, but it’s not exactly uncommon for good people to put their love in the wrong places, and Chan is definitely one of those wrong places.

“It’s not too late to make up with Y/N if you want to, you know,” Hyunjin spoke carefully, hoping that at the very least Chan would openly admit and talk about what went so wrong instead of keeping everything so bottled up inside. 

Time passed, and for a moment Hyunjin thought Chan wouldn't say anything at all, before he suddenly spoke up. “I.. don’t know about that. I’m not sure if I even want her to forgive me.”

“Why not?” Hyunjin asked, taken aback by the admission. Chan sighed again, self-doubt and anxiety making their presence obvious as they always did when he was dealing with complicated emotions. Truth be told, there was a lot of lingering doubt about his reaction towards you that Chan was scared to confront. 

Should he stop being so stubborn and talk to you or should he be assured in his decision and maintain his distance? He heard multiple times that he was an idiot for detaching himself in the first place (mostly from Changbin, who was the most outspoken with this thoughts), and though he felt like it was the right decision at the time given all his faults and self-doubt, he couldn’t fight the way he missed being around you every day.

He knew how much it would hurt to separate himself from you, but it’s what felt right at the time given the tirade of self-hatred that told him he had to. He knew the guys didn't agree, and he knew it hurt you just as much as it hurt him, but how was he supposed to explain to everyone how much he hated himself?

How much he loved you but knew he would just hold you back? You deserved better than to fall in love with a criminal for hire with no future ambitions. You deserved better than someone who was just coasting through life until the day no one needed him anymore and left him behind.

Not to mention that the only ones who knew the full extent of what he did in secrecy were Changbin, Minho, and now you. And he would've been okay with anyone else finding out the depths of terrible deeds, anyone of the other people he cared about but you. Just not you, anyone but you.

He used to not think at all about what it would be like to fall in love with someone; he assumed he could just figure it all out when the day came, even if it was years down the line. His mental health was in the gutter and life was hard, but when isn’t it? Aren’t most people unhappy?

Besides, he still had his friends, and that was good enough for him. And he didn’t want it to sound like he was never happy, or always miserable, but it wasn't until he spent more and more time with you that he realized how much he yearned for a deeper connection with someone.

Sure, being with his brothers made him happy, and the time he spent with them was valuable and irreplaceable to him, but what would happen in the future when they had their own lives? He barely sees half of them anymore, and soon the other half will move on too, following their dreams, meeting more and more new people, making new friends and building families.

And what would Chan have at the end of it all? Nothing, he had come to realize. He would have absolutely nothing. 

No goals, no ambitions, and nothing to offer other than the bare minimum. And he knew you well enough now to know you would say that it's enough, but he just couldn't agree; to Chan, it was nowhere near enough for you, enough for anyone.

Becoming your friend opened his eyes to how many mistakes he’d been making, made him confront the reality that feelings and wants you bury deep down will always resurface, and he knew he couldn’t avoid all the things he’d been trying to anymore. 

A lifetime’s worth of sadness, more regrets than he could count on his fingers, and a longing for connection with someone who would love him as he was, faults and all, and help him become better. He had that chance with you, and he blew it.

And then, instead of trying to make it right, he retreated back into the very shell he tried so hard to break out of. Instead of putting out the fire that had grown, he watched it burn, telling himself it was better to let everything become ash than risk the burns he would suffer from trying to salvage what little he had. 

In the end, it’s all excuses. He didn’t want to face the fact that he was scared, or admit how little his self-worth he really has. So he fled the scene, and when he was called out, his arguments rang hollow, because even Chan himself knew how little his words could actually be believed.

It was true that Chan didn’t believe he deserved anything good, but maybe it was okay to let people care about him regardless. Maybe he needed them to, so that he could finally allow himself to be happy. 

And so he talked to Hyunjin; he told him everything, about what he did, how he felt then and how he feels now, and about how much it hurts to be away from you when he’s so fucking obviously in love with you but feels too worthless to be around you. It was a lot of information to take in, but Hyunjin was truly happy he was finally doing something that was long overdue.

Chan had spent so much of his life avoiding his feelings and keeping his thoughts to himself, that Hyunjin expected him to dance around it, but he hadn’t. It was proof of the positive effect you had on him, evidence that Chan needed you even more than you thought you needed him. 

Chan didn’t cry, though he certainly felt like he would at times, and Hyunjin truly was proud of him. Sure, he learned some things about Chan that definitely came as a shock, but he had hope that once Chan was done processing all his complicated feelings and getting himself out of the bad shit he no longer wanted to associate with, the two of you could go back to the friendship you once had. 

He’d left Chan alone after that, citing that he had commissions to work on, though really he just thought it would do Chan some good to have some time to himself. He needed to let his thoughts and feelings settle, and hopefully get another step closer to reconnecting with you.

Chan himself was still on the couch, thinking a lot about what he should do going forward. Why did everything always have to be so complicated? He’s there for a while, cycling between various thoughts related to you and his feelings, when his phone suddenly buzzes from within his pocket.

He pulls it out, immediately being met with a message from you, the first you've sent in weeks. But it’s… your location? You’ve never sent him it before, and the fact that you did so without any other context spreads worry through him.

And before he can even react to receiving the message, a call comes through, caller ID clearly displaying your name. Out of all the time you'd known him, this was the first time you were actually calling him. He swallows before he answers, nervous as all hell but knowing he shouldn’t hesitate if you need help. 

“Hello..?” Chan answers carefully, unsure if he should speak at full volume until he knows what kind of situation you’re in. His hand immediately clenches around his phone when he hears Jae’s voice clearly taunting you on the other end; it’s muffled, your phone’s speaker clearly blocked by something, but the voice Chan hears is unmistakable.

He curses under his breath as he moves the phone from his face to mute himself, not wanting to accidentally make Jae aware that you managed to call him. Chan refused to risk Jae finding out and ending the call before he can find out what exactly he’s doing to you. 

"Aww, crying already?" he hears Jae's voice patronizing you. Chan scowls, fully aware that there’s no time to waste. He gets his shoes on as quickly as possible, sprinting out of his front door and rushing down the street in a matter of seconds.

The location you sent him is on a side street not all too far away from the house, and he hopes that Jae hasn’t dragged you too far away from the spot you sent him. The city is huge when you’re in the heart of it after all, and there would be more possibilities than Chan can count as to where you would be if you’re no longer there. 

He runs as fast as his feet can possibly carry him, not wanting to waste even a single second in getting to you, or give Jae the opportunity to do something terrible. He holds the phone to his ear even as he runs, desperate for a sign that you’re doing okay despite whatever situation you’ve been put in.

“Chan taking you away from me really pissed me off. I like you a lot, you know,” Jae’s voice comes through the phone again, and his tone makes Chan grit his teeth. He wants to rain absolute hell on Jae, make him regret ever laying a single hand on you, but he knows he likely won’t get that chance.

Making sure you’re okay and getting you away is his priority, and as much as he wants to obliterate Jae, it will have to wait until after he takes care of you. No matter what Jae deserves, no matter how much he hates him, you are his one and only priority right now, and he will protect you. 

You stare up at the bright blue sky, eyes fixed on the fluffy, passing clouds above you, and you don’t react. You’re limp against the cold, unforgiving wall you’ve been pressed against, completely numb, blocking out everything around you.

You hear Jae’s voice but his words don’t register, his hand on your body but your skin no longer reacts to what it feels. Your vision has blurred from tears in your eyes that haven’t fallen, but you continue to stare upward, making no effort to blink them away. 

You had no words to describe the way you felt; it was a devastation so deep that it turned into nothingness, a void. You knew Chan wasn’t coming to help you and you shouldn’t have hoped for it.

All you did was set yourself up for the worst heartbreak of all, an incomparable feeling of betrayal and hopelessness, the solidification that this was your reality now, and you just had to face it instead of holding onto hope that it would be different. 

But despite it all, you can’t really blame Chan for not being here. You knew you were weak, and you knew you were a target, but that isn’t Chan’s fault or responsibility. It must be a burden to worry about you all the time, or annoying that you don’t stand up for yourself nearly as much as you should.

Your few moments of strength get reduced to nothing in mere seconds, and you always revert back to the scared person you’ve always been. And no matter how foolish it is to hope for, all you can think about is how you wish Chan was here.

You hoped he’d be here, hoped he’d reassure you. You wanted to feel his gentle embrace and hear his voice, knowing he’d console you with tender words and a soothing tone. And most of all, you really just missed him, missed him more than anything, so, so much.

The way he smiled at you, the way his expression changed when he was embarrassed or being teased, the way he cared for everyone and everything more than you’d ever think a person capable of. Though he certainly did bad things, his kindness towards you was radiant.

You didn’t want to define him by what you saw, because you knew him beyond that. You knew how sweet he is, how caring he is, how much he wanted to help others. He understood the value in a helping hand and offered it freely to anyone who needed it without a second thought.

You couldn’t find it within yourself to feel anything but compassion for him even with how alone you felt from his absence. Your glimpses into his life allowed you to see him for who he was beyond what his appearance would suggest. You knew there was more to him than you even learned, hidden parts of his past, his life, and his feelings that you hadn’t yet uncovered.

So even when he distanced himself from you, you couldn’t hate him. You knew there was a reason, knew there was something underneath that he was scared to share with you. Chan wasn’t the type to leave someone behind nor break a promise, you refused to believe that he was. 

You just wished he was here, wished that he’d share his thoughts and feelings with you. Wouldn’t things turn out differently if he had? You wanted to support him as much as he supported you. You wanted to encourage him and cheer him on.

Even with Jae’s words circling around you and his touch against your skin, your mind was consumed by Chan. At this point you felt you were crying more from his loss than from anything Jae was doing to you. He had just become a catalyst for your feelings to burst, his presence feeling almost nonexistent against the yearning you felt for Chan. 

You loved him. Truly, and above all else. And you knew that no matter what, it wouldn’t change. Chan’s presence in your life irrevocably changed you; he supported you when no one else had, and you loved his personality and his endearing smile.

You loved the contrast between his tough exterior and his sweet characteristics. He was simultaneously strong and gentle, both cold and warm, sunshine and rain wrapped into one person. And you loved him, for all that he was.

"Get your fucking hands off her!" You hear Chan's voice shout and you blink in confusion, allowing the tears that were stuck to fall. Is he really here? Or are you in so much pain that now your brain is tricking you, trying to comfort you with a lie? You don’t know, but you welcome it all the same, because even if it is just a trick, it’s the best one you’ll ever be given. 

Your body barely registers the feeling of Jae's weight being shifted off of you, Chan's voice having a chokehold on your senses. Your gaze shifts from the sky to the right; you see Jae, who has evidently fallen backwards onto the floor, the left side of his face a stark red from what you assume was an impact.

He’s clearly shocked, but the emotion quickly changes into one of pure hatred directed to the presence left of you. You swallow as you shift your gaze to the left, heart squeezing in your chest when you see Chan, more tears welling in your eyes. He's really here? He really came for you?

Chan's fists are clenched, gaze piercing into Jae with disgust and vitriol. He wants to fucking kill him if he's being honest, but he has to do his best to keep a level head for your sake. He has to get you out of here, keep you safe.

"You ever fucking touch her again, I promise you'll regret it," Chan spits at Jae, stepping closer to him and giving one more punch for good measure, assuring he'll stay down and not follow your exit. "Y/N, don't let go," Chan says as he turns to you, taking your hand in his.

The moment still feels surreal to you, but you do as he says, keeping your grip tight as he runs with you, leading you quickly away from Jae. You run for what feels like ages, but you surprisingly don’t feel tired; must be adrenaline coursing through you, or maybe the emotions you feel right now are preventing you from noticing any sort of ache in your legs. 

The next thing you know, you’re at his house, with him leading you up to the safety of his room. You collapse to his bed the minute you’re fully inside, trying to catch your breath after all the running as you still hold tightly to his hand.

“I’m just gonna close the door, okay? I’m not leaving,” he says when he notices the way your hand clings to him when he tries to separate, not wanting to let him go. You hesitate, hand trembling as you hold onto his. Everything still feels unreal, like if you let go he’ll vanish from your sight, and you’ll wake up in the same place you were before, with none of this having happened. 

You look at his face, taking in his soft but serious expression. You feel the warmth in his hand, see the care in his eyes, and you know– you’re okay now. You don't have to be scared anymore. So you eventually nod as you let go, watching as he closes the bedroom door before returning swiftly to your side.

He examines you carefully, scowling at the disheveled state of your clothes but overall relieved to see no injury. He steps away for just a moment to rifle through his drawers, pulling out a shirt and handing it carefully to you. 

“Here, put this on,” he says, and it prompts you to look down at yourself for the first time. The buttons at the top of your blouse are almost entirely undone, with some buttons completely missing and leaving your bra partially exposed.

You frown at the realization that with the buttons missing you won’t be able to button up your blouse again and it’s effectively ruined, but you’re thankful that Chan is offering you something to wear in its place. He turns his back to you to let you change in peace, and he doesn’t turn back around until you’ve made it clear that you’re done.

“Are you okay..?” he asks softly now as he kneels in front you, eyes fixed straight on you. You meet his gaze, lip trembling as you look at him. You feel overwhelmed, confused, relieved.. Where do you even begin? You look down, swallowing the lump in your throat as more emotion threatens to spill out from your eyes. 

"I'm sorry," he breaks the silence, and you look up, blinking away the tears in the corners of your eyes. "I– I should've been there for you. I shouldn't have let that happen to you.. I'm sorry," Chan tells you, voice shaky through his apology.

He feels so fucking guilty. He wished so badly he didn't let the voice in his head affect him, that he didn't self-destruct so badly and drag you down with him. "It's okay," you say, reaching your hand out to grab his, and Chan shakes his head, voice breaking as he talks to you.

"It's not okay, I– I broke my promise to you." "You didn't," you say with a small frown and Chan's brows furrow in response. "Yes I did, I–''

You shake your head, cutting him off with your own words, "Do you remember what you told me when we first became friends? When you put your number in my phone?" 

Chan swallows as he thinks back to nearly a year ago, when he found you cornered and vulnerable, Jae tormenting you and expecting to get away with it. "I.. told you to call me," he says after a short moment.

"Call me next time, I'll answer. If you call, I'll hear it. I'll come running," you quote him, the words having engraved themselves in your memory. They were probably small to Chan but they meant so much to you. You'd never experienced such kindness before, such an earnest care for your wellbeing, and from someone that was basically a stranger to you. 

That was your proof that he was a good person; someone who deserved kindness and appreciation just as much as anyone else. He was kind, caring, and selfless even to a fault. And you knew Chan didn't believe he was, didn't think anything he did was special but it was.

You want to repay all the care he's shown you, in any way you can. "That was your promise," you continue and Chan's breath hitches in his throat at your words, "I called and you came, just like you said you would, so.. You don't have to apologize. Not for that."

He curses, turning his face away from yours with a small chuckle of disbelief. "I should be the one comforting you right now," he says and you smile softly as you respond. "No matter what you might think, I'd never hate you. Never. And I forgive you." You squeeze his hand in reassurance, trying to convey the sincerity of your words.

"I.. don't think I deserve that," he whispers, swallowing as he tries to control the shakiness in his voice. You're forgiving him this easily? He hasn't earned that, doesn’t deserve it.. You should be furious with him, you should hate him. So why don't you? "I can't think of anyone who deserves it more than you, Chan," You say and his lip trembles, eyes squeezing shut as he tries not to embarrass himself by crying in front of you. 

He’d grown a thick skin in his life, built his walls sturdy and high– or at least he thought he had. But there you always are, tearing his barriers down so easily, prying open the confines of his heart with the simplest of words and actions. And that's the feeling of love and connection he'd been missing in his life, isn't it? The one he’d be yearning for despite all his doubts and concerns? 

All he can think about when he looks at you is how much he hopes you'll always be with him, even if it's just from afar. He wants to protect you, wants to hold you close, wants to laugh with you on good days and support you during the bad.

Even if he never gets the courage to tell you just how much he truly loves you, he'd be happy just being near you. And that’s why he owes it to you to be better, reaffirms his desire, his need, to be honest and open about everything.

“I should.. Be honest with you. About why I was avoiding you,” Chan says after a shaky exhale, and you nod, ready to hear him out. “I was.. Ashamed, when you saw me like that. I never wanted you to see it, you know? I was– I still am, trying to get out of it, and I hoped that when you did know about it, it’d be like.. A thing that happened in my past that you’d never have to worry about. So when you saw it, I just.. I freaked out. I didn’t know what to do, and so I just..” 

Oh no. He’s tearing up again, and the empathetic look in your eyes continues to chip at his walls. He almost can't take the way you look at him, the way you hold and squeeze his hand as he speaks, the way your eyes water with his, as if it’s just as emotional for you to experience as it is for him.

It probably is, to be fair; you cared a lot about him, cried a lot because of him, tried countless times to support him even when he was closed off, hesitant and scared to try. He’s still struggling to believe he deserves to receive your compassion and understanding, but he wants to accept it regardless.

He wants to let you care about him, to let you console him, to let you be his comfort, his home. And he’d be that for you, he’d give you back all you gave and more, all to make sure you would never cry because of his actions ever again. 

“I just-” Chan tries again, falling short as the words get stuck in his throat. You’re patient though, giving him all the time he needs to collect his thoughts and put the words he wants to say together. “I just.. Everything felt like it was caving in on me."

"When it started I was just a kid desperate for money, you know? No one wants to pay a livable wage to a 16 year old, they think you don’t need it, assume you still got your parents and a cushy bed to go home to. So when the offer came up for me to make some quick, good cash in exchange for a favor, I took it.”

“The favors.. What I’d do depended entirely on the person making the request, but they were never good. Usually it was something the person desperately wanted, but couldn't get their own hands dirty to get, and they look for someone to do it for them under the table. So I got mine dirty in their place, and got paid well doing it. And I truly fucking regret it,” Chan spills it all out for you- the woes of his life, his bad deeds and regrets, all for you to see and judge. 

But you don’t judge him; you never would, even if he deserved it. What he said is what you expected– that he wasn’t given a real choice, his circumstances unfair and the world before him too cruel. It hurt your heart to know someone as kind and caring as Chan was forced to do things he hated for money, things that plagued his mind with guilt and tanked his already low self-esteem to new depths.

This wasn’t a case of “ashamed only because he got caught”; his shame and guilt was true, the resentment he felt for himself complexly interwoven with his human nature to survive at all costs. It was a dilemma that no one should have to face, but that he was forced to time and time again. To say it was unfair felt like an understatement, but it was all you had to describe what life had offered him. 

And still, you admired him; you hear all the time how the circumstances of one’s life changes them, how good people can only tolerate so much pain before it warps them into someone unrecognizable. But through it all, he was still someone full of compassion, of tenderness, who was doing his best to make amends with himself and make up for what he’s done.

It wasn’t your place to tell anyone to forgive him, nor would you tell anyone affected by his actions that they should. But you hoped that one day Chan could be free of the shackles of that weighed him down, both physically and mentally. 

The world doesn’t exist in black and white; good people do bad things, make mistakes, and hurt others, often even without meaning to. What truly makes a person good isn’t whether or not they’ve never hurt someone before– it’s whether or not they’re truly sorry.

No one can exist without making mistakes, without hurting feelings and having theirs hurt in return, the human experience is far too complex and not meant to be perfected. No one is perfect, but imperfection is what allows you to grow. 

The things in your life that you regret, that make you feel embarrassed, ashamed, sorry– they make you human. They make you someone worth loving, someone deserving of compassion and empathy.

To be human is to love and forgive, to make mistakes and pick yourself back up and try again to be better, to connect with others and build a life with them that makes you happy and proud to be where you are. And it’s what Chan deserves to have a chance at, just as much as anyone else in the world does. 

“You can cry if you need to. I’m here for you, Channie,” you offer, holding your arms out for him to accept a hug if he wants one. It’s a promise, really. A promise that you’ll always be here for him, because he’s the person you love most.

“I might take you up on that,” he says as he accepts your hug, his tone the most light-hearted you’ve heard all evening, but you can tell he’s grateful. He squeezes you close, and you can feel his body start to release all its built up stress as he relaxes against you. 

He needed this; needed the reassurance that unconditional love is available to him and obtainable, that happiness was something he was allowed to have, that he wasn’t an irredeemable person doomed to endlessly suffer.

“There’s something else I should tell you,” he says after a few moments, voice soft and a bit timid, his arms still holding you firmly. You hum in acknowledgment, pulling back from his embrace just enough to look at him. “Whenever you’re ready,” you encourage him, and he smiles just a bit before taking a breath to steady himself. 

“I love you. And I didn’t want to tell you that until everything was behind me, because I thought you wouldn’t return my feelings if you knew about it. If it was just a part of my past, and not something I was actively involved in anymore, then maybe you could, but– I didn’t think you’d ever love me otherwise, so.. That’s the other reason why I freaked out.. I thought I ruined any chance I had at being with you.”

Oh. Did you hear him right? He loves you? He wanted to be with you? Wants to be with you? Romantically?

“You don’t have to return my feelings, I just.. Wanted you to know, because it played a big part in why I acted like I did to you. You didn’t deserve to be ignored just because I didn’t know how to deal with my feelings, you know?” Chan elaborates, your silence making him increasingly nervous.

God, he hopes you respond soon, even if it's a rejection, because the silence is killing him. “You didn’t ruin your chances,” you finally say, a shy smile on your face that instantly fills Chan with relief. He smiles too, and you settle fully back into his embrace, your head against his chest as your arms hold him close.

You hear the thumping of his heart, the evidence that his feelings for you are indeed real- that he loves you. Maybe this happiness is more than Chan deserves, and maybe you’ll change your mind about him someday, but for now.. He’s happy, and that’s all he could ever ask for. 

Chan spent the rest of the evening glued to your side, the two of you only separating from each other if you had to. You canceled your study session with Changbin for the night as well; way too much happened today for you to be able to even remotely focus on school work. He understood completely though, and was more than relieved that you and Chan were talking again. 

You had dinner together, all of you, and you finally started to feel like your fractured relationships could be pieced back together. There were still lingering questions, a litany of things to still discuss together, but now that you knew you could, there was a sense of calm you felt; like no matter what happened going forward, everything would be okay because you had each other, and neither of you would let that change again. 

Even in a group, your eyes would always unconsciously find their way back to Chan, and he’d smile back at you. Not a big, toothy smile, but a small, soft one– a special one just for you. He loved you, and you felt it; and you knew without a doubt that this is where you belonged. In their group, among the kindest people you’d ever met, with Chan by your side.

When night settled in, he did everything possible to ensure you were comfortable, such as offering you another change of clothes if you wanted it, or to take you home if you’d prefer that. But honestly, you wanted to stay with Chan as long as possible, not just because of your desire to stay at his side, but because of how safe being with him always made you feel.

You always felt secure in his presence, like any problem you had just melted away when he was hugging you or holding your hand. And despite the good turn the day had taken, you could definitely still use his comfort. “Wait,” you called to him when he was going to turn to leave, his plan the same as the other times you stayed the night; he’d be on the couch, while you took the comfort of his bed.

“Did I forget something you need?” Chan asked, quickly surveying the bed; you had plenty of pillows, and you weren’t too in need of blankets given that it was approaching summer now, but he wouldn’t put it outside the realm of possibility to forget something you needed. 

“No, it’s not that,” you say, and you can see the gears turning in his head, mild confusion mixed with concern appearing on his features. “What’s wrong then?” he asks carefully, stepping away from the door and back to you.

“I.. want you to stay. Here, with me,” you mutter, shyly looking down at your lap and his face flushes as he tries to blink away the initial shock. “Like.. until you fall asleep, or..?”

“N-No,” you look at him, a bit hesitant to meet his gaze due to your nervousness but doing it anyway, “like.. Sleep with me..?” Fuck. He knows you don’t mean it like that but what the hell, you’re gonna give him a heart attack.

“Are you sure? You won’t be uncomfortable?” Another careful step closer, watching you closely for any sign of hesitation, wanting to make 100% sure that you really want him next to you all night. You nod, scooting to make space for him so he knows you mean it.

He swallows before he crawls in next to you, doing his best to settle in comfortably despite the way his body tenses from laying so close to you. What makes it even worse is that instead of laying with your back facing him like he expected, you’re turned towards him, looking straight at him. He’s never been this close to your face before, and he feels like his heart is going to erupt. 

“Don’t need Wolf Chan?” he asks after you’re settled, noting the fact that you don’t have him in your arms as you normally did when you spent the night. “Not when I have you,” you reply, and thank God he turned off the lights before he got into bed with you, because you definitely would’ve seen the blush on his face burn tenfold.

“Chan..” you breathe out, your voice slightly hesitant and tense, and though the room is dark, his eyes have adjusted enough to see you looking at him nervously. “Yeah..?” he asks softly, and carefully you reach out to him, your hand lingering on his arm.

“I want you to promise.. That you’ll keep trying to get away from the people who have you do bad things, and that you won’t do them anymore once you’re out,” you say, eyes still nervous and desperate to find reassurance. That’s exactly what he planned to keep doing anyway, but hearing you say it just reaffirms his choice– he’ll get out of it no matter what, for your sake. 

“I promise. You’ll be the first to know too, I promise,” he affirms, and you finally smile, fully believing in him. “I’ll make a promise too! That once everything is settled, I’ll officially be your girlfriend.” Chan chuckles at your statement, pulling you into a hug as he does.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he tells you, smiling at you fondly as he pulls you in closer. “If it’s okay.. Can I kiss you?” he asks softly, and you nod, heart racing in anticipation.

Your first kiss- soft and sweet, his touch light and gentle, your stomach erupting in butterflies. Again, again, and once more, both smiling when you pull back. You’ve never felt so warm, pure elation in your veins as he holds you close.

“I love you,” you tell him as you settle your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes and basking in the joy and comfort you feel. “Love you more,” he says, landing a soft kiss on the top of your head, “Goodnight, Y/N, sweet dreams.” 

Was it okay for Chan to be this happy? Was it okay to have the things he dreamed of? Regardless of the answer, he was thankful. There were few things in this world that Chan allowed himself to crave selfishly, you being the most primary desire of them all.

Did he deserve you? Maybe not now, but he would someday soon– he’d make sure of that. He’d keep his promises, make sure he became someone worth being around for, someone that you could be proud to say is the person you love.

6 months since the day Chan told you he loved you and made you his girlfriend. Well, maybe not officially one might argue, since he still had a myriad of promises to uphold before then, but as far as Chan is concerned, it counts!

And to the credit of his point, you still acted like a couple most of the time, all sweet touches and bashful glances whenever he was near you. Neither of you could help it, really; how do you resist in that scenario? All he ever wanted to do was shower you with affection any chance he got, and why would you deny the opportunity to experience it? 

Chan’s duality also extended towards your romantic relationship, in ways that endlessly endeared and fascinated you. He adapted to the boyfriend role well all things considered, or maybe his kind hearted and compassionate nature made him naturally good at caring for you.

He was extremely open with his love for you, full of soft touches and charming words. That was always in private however; when around his friends he was much less.. Sauve, you could say. He was shy, simply put; his face and ears burning red whenever you kissed him for all to see, bashful giggles leaving his lips whenever you complimented him or told him you loved him so, so much.

You always loved seeing his cute dimples show up whenever he was happy, and knowing you were the person making it happen filled you with more joy than you could express in words. But the biggest display of his duality would always come when he felt the need to protect you– all his shyness would melt away, his desire to keep you safe and close much stronger than anything else.

Whether it was holding your hand as you walked through crowds of people, directing you away from the edge of the sidewalk when you walked together, or kept an arm snuggly around you when belligerent, overconfident men approached you at a party– he was your protector above all else, and he made that clear to everyone. 

He was perfect in every way, at least to you. It’s not to say that he was suddenly without fault, and he certainly wasn’t absolved of all the wrong he’d committed in his past, but his growth and earnest effort didn’t deserve to go unrecognized.

He was the sweetest, kindest person you’d ever known, and every day he showed his resilience and determination to make a better name for himself. That alone made him perfect to you. 

Chan worked hard to get away from what kept him connected to the dark underside of the city, and it didn’t come without its sacrifices, but he did his best to make it work and come out of it all ready to wash his hands clean of the past.

He made substantially less money now, but it was a fair exchange when you consider that the money he made going forward was through honest means. He agreed to share the burden as well, to accept help and not take on so much responsibility all on his own. 

He was used to taking the brunt of everything, shouldering it all for the sake of everyone else around him. He thought that's what made him useful, what made others want to be around him– what use did he have as a person if he wasn’t providing something for them? Chan was a pillar; one who didn’t want to acknowledge that his foundation was inherently broken, and not built on solid enough ground. 

Slowly but surely however, he began to see his worth beyond the material, and stopped seeing his friendships as ones that could easily be stripped away from him by superficial means. It’s not that he thought the people in his life were shallow either, it’s just..

When your self-esteem is so low, and all you’ve ever known is pain and sadness, where the people that were supposed to care for you were either gone or didn’t give a shit, it’s hard to see yourself in the same lens that the people who love you do.

It’s nearly impossible to shake doubt once it has its grip on you, hard to convince yourself people mean it when they say they care when you’ve only ever experienced the opposite. You can’t explain what it’s like to have a brain at war with itself, and he imagines that the only ones who would ever truly understand are the people like him, who have experienced it for themselves and truly know what it means to be lonely. 

But he had come to realize that he wasn’t as alone as he felt; he had countless good people in his life, and all he had to do was open the door and let them in. It wasn’t easy to unlearn all the things Chan had told himself over the years, and there were still many days where he struggled with his self-worth and having compassion for himself, but the people he loved made it worth trying his hardest. 

And you, the person Chan loved most of all, was the catalyst for the change he needed. You pushed him in the right direction, opened his eyes to all the feelings and wants he tried to push away and made him face them head on. He was endlessly grateful to you, and he wanted to show you just how much; which is why now, on your 6 month anniversary (which was actually more like 3, officially speaking), he wanted to do something special. 

But what should he get you? What would be good enough? He knew you’d appreciate the sentiment of his gift more than the price tag of it, but he still felt stuck when considering what would be best for you. He could take you out on a date, but what he really wants is the chance to be alone with you. As much as he loves his brothers, and loves that you’re all friends and get along well, if they interrupt or crash his alone time with you one more time he might burst a blood vessel. 

Theoretically he could do some research and find somewhere for the two of you to be one on one, but his career change didn’t leave him with much of a travel fund (or a gift fund, for that matter.) He could always ask the guys to make themselves vacant for a night, or to just please let him have some alone time with his girlfriend, but God, he could already picture how they’d tease him for asking. Or worse, ask him what his intentions are and make him embarrassed in the process. 

In the end however, Chan swallowed his pride, and asked his brothers kindly but firmly to let him have the house to himself so he could spend his anniversary alone with you. He did get some teasing and embarrassing questions, but overall not as bad as what he anticipated, thankfully.

Did he want to have sex with you? Yes, obviously. Was that the reason he was doing this? Absolutely not. That’s not to say he wouldn’t welcome it if it happened of course, but it was in no way his sole motivation.

He hadn’t done that with you yet, and though he wanted to, he was in no way going to rush you into it. Sure, it drove him a little crazy every time you stayed the night and he had you pressed up against him, but he was a gentleman above all else. He had self control.

What he didn’t know though, is that you were also being driven a little crazy by him. The first time he called you “baby”, your stomach did full on somersaults, and if he called you that before he kissed you? Your heart went absolutely crazy!

Then, the first time he removed his shirt to sleep you nearly had a heart attack. He was so toned, and well, you figured he was from how strong he appeared to be, but actually seeing it with your own eyes made your heart race unbelievably fast.

And then, one night when you were lying in his bed together, your back pressed against him as you watched a movie on his laptop, and he leaned forward to kiss you, but the kiss landed on your neck– oh, it was over for you. 

You bit your lip to stop yourself from making an embarrassing sound, face flushing and growing hot. And lately, you came to realize more and more how bad you wanted Chan more intimately. Every time his hand lingered on your waist, every time you felt his body pressed to yours when you hugged, every time you were laying together and he had his arm wrapped around you– you wanted him. 

But how do you go about admitting that? You’d never done this sort of thing before, nor had you been faced with such a strong desire to be intimate with someone before being with Chan.

But now, that it was your 6-more-like-3 month anniversary, you thought maybe now might be the right time to talk about it. It might be difficult to do so without getting shy or embarrassed but you definitely wanted to, and to find out if he ever thought about you in the same way.

Much to Chan’s delight and relief, you didn’t seem at all upset that his plans with you involved having a date at home. His gift to you was a cute, new wolf plush; and while it was certainly was no Wolf Chan, he hoped would comfort you when you weren’t with him. You loved it, instantly hugging him and promising that you’d sleep with Wolf Chan Jr. (as you promptly named it) every night that you weren’t with Chan. 

He put on a movie that you’d once said was a favorite of yours but that he had never seen, and it warmed your heart that he remembered and wanted to watch it with you. He ordered your favorite take out meal, spent the entire evening cuddled close to you and sweetly reminding you how much he loved you.

When night settled in and you began to grow tired, you changed into your pajamas separately before you went to his room. And still, the question was weighing on you– does he want you? Will you be able to tell him that you'd been giving having sex with him a lot of thought?

And then you walked into the room after finishing changing, and saw that he planned on only sleeping in some sweatpants, you internally lost your mind. No way would you be able to sleep if he was next to you looking that good and while your mind was plagued with less than innocent thoughts.

So when the lights were off, and you were laid next to him, you conjured all your bravery to speak your mind. “Chan.. can I ask you something?” He sat up a bit upon hearing you, finding your eyes in the darkness to give you his full attention.

“Of course, what is it?” He asks and you swallow, taking a moment to steady your voice before you come right out with it. “Do you ever.. think about having sex with me?” Holy fuck. That is the last thing he was expecting to hear.

“W-What? I-I– well–” he sputters nervously, his face growing hot within seconds. “I-I just.. I have so.. I thought I’d ask..?” you mutter shyly, hoping you won’t be faced with a mortifying rejection. 

Oh no. That admission makes his brain short circuit for a moment, mind reeling as he processes what you’ve just said. You’ve thought about it? With him? You want to… with him?

“O-Of course I have, I just didn’t know if you wanted to, a-and I didn’t want you to feel pressured if I instigated so..” he trails off, hoping that he didn’t unintentionally make you feel undesired by holding off on touching you more intimately. 

Relief rushes through you, happy to be reminded what a gentleman your boyfriend is and to know that he wants you too. “I-In that case.. do you want to tonight?” you ask, and you feel him suck in a breath before he answers.

“I– y-yeah, I want to,” he says, shy but honest as he seeks out your hand, “as long as you’re sure you’re ready.”

“I’m sure, I really want to,” you tell him, squeezing his hand and offering him a smile. Chan gets up from the bed to turn on some dim mood lighting, because he definitely doesn’t want his first time with you to be in complete darkness– he needs to see you.

You sit up, watching him in nervous excitement before he sits next to you. “I’ll– I’ll take care of you so.. Just let me know if I’m going too fast or you need to stop, okay?” he asks and you assure him that the minute you feel even slightly uncomfortable, you’ll let him know.

He smiles, a shy and cute one, guiding you to turn so both of your bodies are facing each other before he lets you know, “I’m going to kiss you now.” His hand rests just below your ear, fingers on your neck and his thumb tracing circles on your cheek as he leans in to kiss you.

The kiss is slow– much slower than all the others you’ve shared with him until now. It’s sensual, each kiss soft and languid, pulling away for only a second before he connects his lips with yours again. You can feel the butterflies flutter in your stomach as he deepens the kiss, his other hand carefully landing on your waist. 

Your hands sit awkwardly in your lap at first, not quite sure what you should do with them and what’s okay. But to your surprise, the more Chan kisses you, the more you find yourself naturally following his lead, as if this isn’t something entirely new to you. He tilts you back, carefully guiding your back to the bed, his body finding its place between your legs. 

You bring your arms around his neck, urging him to press his body closer to yours and leave no free space between you. You want him as close as possible, to feel his weight on you, to be enveloped by him and feel him all over.

You’re so responsive to his touch that it drives Chan crazy with want; the way your body shivers when he runs his hand down your waist to your hip, the way goosebumps rises on your skin when his fingers linger near your waistband, the way your mouth opens for him when he licks your bottom lip– he loves it all. 

A soft sound escapes your throat when he lets his tongue in your mouth, your arms moving from around his neck to let your hands explore his body, running down his chest and feeling his abs under your fingertips.

Feeling his tongue circle around yours, his breath being shared with you and yours with him, it’s enough to make you dizzy already. You’ve never felt a desire like this before, this overwhelming want to have his hands explore every inch of your skin. 

When he pulls away from the kiss, wow, he’s breathless just from the sight of you. Your lips red and glossy, your eyes hazy with need, your hair having fallen around you like a halo; his angel– you’re forever his angel.

Chan caresses your lip with his thumb, wanting to stare at you for just a moment longer before he diverts his attention elsewhere. He smiles when you kiss his thumb, finding the action cute (and hot if he’s being honest, but he’ll explore that thought later.)

He lowers his head back down to you, giving you one more kiss before he leans towards your neck, kissing just under your ear before trailing hot, open mouthed kisses slowly down the expanse of your jaw and to your neck.

Some of them tickle, making you giggle softly in response, but he knows he’s found the right spot when instead of giggling, you gasp, eyes fluttering closed as you tilt your head to the side, allowing him to have more access to your sweet spot. 

You can feel him smile against your skin before he resumes his wet kisses and licks, latching his mouth to the spot that makes you react the most and sucking gently. The noises that leave you are intoxicating and addictive, soft breathy little moans that almost get completely drowned out by the sound his kisses leave on your dampening skin.

His hands travel to the hem of your shirt, and he separates from your neck, looking at you for any sign that you want him to stop before he begins to pull it up. You look shy, maybe a little nervous, but not at all hesitant or scared of his touch. You welcome it, letting him strip you of your top and toss it to the floor.

You’re not wearing a bra, you never do when you go to bed, and while Chan suspected that to be the case, he never asked or commented on it, because admitting that he noticed a difference would also mean admitting that he’d look at your chest. But now, he'll be able to do so freely, to stare at you openly (and hopefully not be too embarrassed about it.)

The way he stares in awe of you makes you blush, and when he calls you beautiful on top of it, you almost want to cover your face from how shy you feel. He can’t compliment you while you’re exposed to him like this, you don’t think your heart can take it. Your reaction makes him smile, but he hopes you know that he means it; Chan isn’t saying you're beautiful just to say it, you truly are– the most beautiful person he’s ever met, both body and soul. 

“Is this okay?” he asks, hands lingering patiently near your breasts, not wanting to touch them until you give him clearly spoken permission. You nod, but he still hesitates until you say it, which you simultaneously appreciate but feel extremely embarrassed from. Chan rewards you with a kiss, another long one meant to ease away the embarrassment and put your focus entirely on enjoying the moment. 

Your breath hitches when he finally touches your breasts, your body quivering when his calloused thumbs brush over your nipples. He lingers on every kiss so sweetly, every touch of your body slow and careful, not just for your comfort but also to commit it to memory, to ensure that he always remembers what his first time with you was like. He kisses down your neck again, and you watch with bated breath as he draws closer to your chest. 

Chan takes his time fondling your breasts as he covers them in kisses, squeezing gently and listening intently to all the sounds he draws from you. He takes one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and spending some time softly sucking before giving the other an equal amount of attention.

The more attention he showers your breasts with, the wetter you become, your panties becoming increasingly drenched with your arousal. If he wasn’t between your legs, you’d be pressing them together in a desperate attempt to gain some relief, your pussy aching to be touched but at the same time wanting to let Chan take his time making you feel good.

He doesn’t separate from your chest until he’s satisfied, starting to trail kisses down your stomach, stopping to look up at you once he’s at the waistband of your shorts. “Still okay?” he asks and you nod (perhaps a bit too eagerly), lifting your hips up so he can easily pull your clothes down your legs. 

He hooks his fingers into your shorts and panties, hands slightly trembling as he pulls them down your thighs and then off your legs, discarding them off to the floor with your top. Now that he sees you fully exposed to him, Chan feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest, his cock unceremoniously twitching as he stares at your body.

You can see how hard it’s grown from beneath his sweatpants, and God, you can already tell it’s big. You sit up, this time being the one to initiate a kiss as you tug at Chan’s sweatpants, not so subtly asking him to help you take them off.

It’s his turn to feel shy, face starting to burn to the tips of his ears as he separates from you to remove them more easily. The way you attentively watch him certainly doesn’t help, nor the way you overtly stare at his cock when it’s freed from his clothing. 

You look back to his face, and though he’s feeling shy, he offers you a smile, one that you return just as timidly. Another kiss before you lay back again, your heart racing as you watch him resume his earlier path, placing kisses to the soft expanse of your skin. From your cute tummy down to your thighs, it’s driving you crazy how close his face has gotten to your core without having given it any attention yet. 

He carefully spreads your legs further apart, swallowing when your pussy comes entirely into his view. So cute and dripping wet, all for him, because of him– God, you’re perfect. As he’s done with every inch of your body up to this point, his first course of action is to kiss. Your hips jolt when he kisses your clit, and when he flattens his tongue and licks, oh, you’re in heaven. 

You’ve never felt anything as good as this, your entire body shuddering as you sink your teeth into your bottom lip. The slow pace he starts with drives you wild, taking his time familiarizing himself with the way you taste, the motions you like, and indulging in the pretty sound of your whimpers and moans.

Chan picks up the pace when he finds what you like, alternating from pushing his tongue as deep into your hole as it can go and then back to your clit. He uses his hands to keep your legs spread, can feel the way they tremble and twitch as your orgasm grows closer.

Your hands clutch at his bedsheet, desperate mewls growing in volume as the knot in your stomach builds. He directs all of his attention to your clit, keeping his pace steady as he squeezes your thighs in his hands, his eyes closed as he focuses entirely on getting you to cum all over his tongue. 

He can’t help but groan when your hands move to his head, your fingers tangling in his hair and tugging just enough to cause a slight sting. “C-Close, so close-” you warn and he hums, ready and eager to taste your release.

You cum with a choked cry, your entire body trembling as the blinding white pleasure courses through your veins. Your heart pounds, chest heaving as you try to collect your breath, mind hazy from your post-orgasm bliss. 

You don’t even register that Chan has moved from his spot between your legs until he kisses you, tasting yourself on his tongue bringing you back to reality. Seeing you like this not only fills Chan with an insane amount of want, but also with pride, knowing that he’s the reason you’re in this state.

“Baby,” he calls to you, urging you to look at him. His face flushes when you do, cause fuck, you’re so pretty like this, but no use getting shy again now. “I– I want to get you ready to take me, i-is that okay?” Chan hates that he stutters a bit while asking, but he can’t help it when he’s this worked up and you’re laying there looking pretty beyond words.

“Y-Yeah, please,” you practically beg, and fuck, he’s weak for that. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to resist giving you whatever you want if you make begging like that a habit of yours. He carefully moves from between your legs to be next to you, kissing you sweetly as he rubs his fingers between your folds.

You can feel his erection pressing against your thigh, hard and leaking, his pre-cum smearing on the skin it touches. “C-Channie–” you call and he immediately comes to stop, looking at you in concern. “What’s wrong, angel? Change your mind?” he asks, brows furrowing in worry. 

You quickly shake your head, trying to dispel any concern before you speak up again, “I want- Can I touch you too?” You can feel his cock twitch from your question, his face flaring and ears burning.

“Y-Yeah, of course,” he says, adjusting his position enough for his cock to be within reach of your hand. He can’t help but shudder and gasp when you bring your fingers to his flushed tip, coating your fingers in pre-cum and spreading it down the length of his shaft. 

Your hand is so much softer than his, so warm, and fingers barely able to wrap fully around due to how thick he is. He can’t help but get lost in watching for a moment, eyes transfixed on the way your hand slowly moves up and down. You look at Chan, watching the way his expression changes as he bites his lip– how does he look so gorgeous and sexy at once? 

Regaining his focus, he prods at your hole with his fingers before he slips the middle one inside. God, you’re so warm and wet and tight, that the thought alone of being inside you is enough to make Chan want to cum. He can’t wait to fuck you, to feel you squeezing him, and to find out what noises you’ll make when his cock is touching the deepest parts of you. 

But first, he needs to prep you well– so he starts by moving his finger in and out slowly and carefully until he’s sure you can take another. You whimper when he adds a second finger, your motions on his cock stopping for just a moment as you adjust to the new sensation you’re feeling. His fingers are much longer and thicker than your own, and it sends ripples of pleasure throughout your body with every move they make. 

You match the pace of your hand with that of his fingers, mirroring the slow movements, but adding pressure by squeezing your hand around him. When he picks up his pace, you do as well, and your stomach flips when he curses under his breath and groans.

You’re mesmerized when his head falls back for a moment, his breathing becoming heavier and his stomach and thighs flexing from the pleasure he feels. But when his fingers curl, your concentration breaks, the spot he touches making you see stars as loud a moan falls from your lips. 

It feels so good you almost can’t breathe, head falling back against the pillows and your eyes rolling back as he prods it over and over again. Your pace on his cock loses its rhythm, trying your best to keep steady through the immense pleasure you feel but failing at the task miserably.

Chan doesn’t mind in the slightest– in fact, he welcomes it, because he doesn’t want to cum before he's had the chance to be inside you. He brings his thumb to your clit, applying pressure as he draws circles over it, and that’s enough to make you entirely crumble. “Oh my god–” you gasp, your hand falling away from his cock as you succumb to what he gives you.

You’re cumming before you can even really process it, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your body trembles. He doesn’t stop until he’s sure you’ve come down from the high, carefully sliding his fingers out of you and licking them clean. 

Your eyes are closed, breath shaky as your heart pounds, and you feel so good. Chan carefully pushes the hair stuck on your face with sweat away, and you smile at him when you open your eyes. “Felt good, huh?” he asks with a shy smile of his own, “Do you still want to keep going? Not too tired?”

“Wanna keep going, wanna feel you inside me,” you answer, and you can feel him twitch against your thigh again, evidently excited by your words. He stands from the bed to rifle through his nightstand, pulling a condom from the drawer as you settle comfortably in the middle of the bed.

Chan takes his place between your legs, and you watch as he opens the package and rolls the condom on with no trouble (despite how much his hands are trembling from the anticipation.) He takes his cock in his hand, lining himself up with your entrance and then looking back to your face. 

“You’re still sure?” he asks, and you nod without hesitation. “Mhm, I love you so much Channie, wanna do this with you and only you,” you assure him, and wow, does that make him positively melt.

“Such an angel,” he tells you before he kisses you, happy beyond words, “my angel.” He slides inside with relative ease given how slick you are, the only resistance he meets being from how tight you still are even after having gotten his fingers. 

He watches you the entire time, stopping when he notices you wince, and only resuming his slow push when your body starts to release its tension. Chan kisses you, holds your hand and lets you squeeze as hard you need, not moving a single inch until you’re ready for it. To your surprise, it doesn’t take all that long for you to adjust to the stretch, and soon enough you find yourself eager for stimulation. 

You don’t verbally say it, but Chan can tell you’re ready by the pleasured whimper that pours into your kiss when you feel him twitch inside, and how you unconsciously move your hips to try and seek the friction you crave. He starts slow, for his sake as much as yours, because he’ll cum much sooner than he wishes to otherwise.

He’s still kissing you, swallowing your soft moans and letting you consume his low groans. It takes him a moment to find your spot with just his cock, but he can tell he’s got it when you loudly gasp and clench tightly around him. 

He moves his hands to your hips and then to your legs, holding them in his hands and using them for leverage when he starts to pick up his pace. Your hands are on his face, holding him close as you continue to kiss and muffle each other’s noises that are beginning to grow in volume. You’re glad Chan asked the guys to leave for the night, because with how good it feels you couldn’t possibly keep your voice down, even if you wanted to. 

“Fuck, baby, feel so good, ‘m gonna cum,” Chan tells you between breathy groans and your stomach flips, eager to find out what he looks and sounds like when he’s cumming inside you. He brings two fingers to your clit, rubbing in quick circles to ensure you cum again too and that he doesn’t leave you wanting. You whine, sensitive from all the attention you’ve received but still feeling way too good to ask him to stop. 

“Cum again for me, please angel, need you to so bad, please-” Oh, that really does it for you. You cum hard, making a mess of his fingers as you do, clutching tightly to his arms as your head falls back. Chan’s high follows close behind, his thrusts turning sloppy as he chases it, his cum spurting into the condom in quick bursts.

The two of you stay like that for a time, breathing heavily as you come down from your highs together. Chan pulls out slowly once he’s caught his breath, quickly removing the condom and tying it off, disposing of it in the trash can at the foot of his bed before he lays down next to you.

You immediately turn towards him, wrapping your arm around him and pulling him into a hug. “We should get cleaned up but.. Wanna cuddle first,” you say and Chan smiles, always finding it so cute when you’re clingy towards him, and even more so now after an intimate moment. 

He rubs soothing circles on your back and kisses the top of your head, watching you fondly as you yawn and snuggle as close to him as you can. “Baby, you’re gonna fall asleep if we stay like this too long. Let’s get you cleaned up before you get too cozy, yeah?” Chan reasons and you pout, knowing he’s right but not wanting to leave the comfortable, blissful place you’re in. He chuckles when you look at him with that pout, so adorable and cute in his eyes. 

“C’mon, won’t take long. And we’ll go straight to bed as soon as we’re done, promise,” he tries again and you reluctantly agree, begrudgingly tearing yourself away from your boyfriend's warm embrace.

Your legs are a bit wobbly, so Chan helps you stabilize yourself, walks you to the bathroom and helps you in the shower. He takes his time to dry you off well and get you dressed in fresh clothes, and helps you back into bed.

You yawn and snuggle into Chan as soon he’s settled next to you, eyes heavy and body beyond exhausted. You’re a little sore, but so happy, and Chan took such good care of you that you feel relaxed despite the aches.

He holds you close, whispering a soft ‘I love you’, smiling when you sleepily mumble it back. He’s so lucky to have you, so blessed to have you here in his arms, loving him in both his good moments and his bad, never giving up on him even when you likely should have. 

You saw how flawed of a person he was and loved him regardless, knew of his mistakes and regrets and supported him anyway, encouraging him every step of the way on his road to change. There were so many times he felt he didn’t deserve the love and compassion he received, so many times he felt worthless and miserable, and you graciously helped him to see that he was a person worth more than he gave himself credit for. 

It was still hard at times to have love and compassion for himself, to extend himself the care he freely offered to others, to believe it’s what he deserved, but he’d never stop trying. Until the day came where he could confidently say he loves himself, that he believes in his heart that he’s not someone worthless, he’ll keep trying.

And you’ll be there, holding his hand, giving him the safe space he needs to cry and to feel, your unconditional love giving him the reassurance and hope he needs to live a life he can be proud of– a life he promises to always share with you.

[lalunanymph]

𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐌 — naoya zen'in

the color red has never held this much meaning for him until you came along

tw. femdom, heel f/etish, foot worship, b/ondage, collaring, leashes, toe sucking, sub!naoya, fem!reader, reader is coded to be feminine (wears nail polish, a corset, heels), o/ral s/ex, unprotected s/ex, o/rgasm denial, o/rgasm control, misogyny, repressed emotions, classism, mentions of sexism, mentions of pregnancy, lots of religious imagery, mild angst

a/n. this was supposed to be a purely h/orndog fic but picture you by chappell roan started playing and it became a sadfest instead

Everything’s quiet except for his laborious breaths.

The persistent tick tick tick of the clock is second to the blood drowning in his veins, his mouth going dry at the sight before him. 

The red of those heels lovingly encasing your stockinged feet was a glaring sign. 

A sign that for tonight, his pride, body and integrity did not belong to him; laid bare for you to control and bend to your whims.

But, Naoya didn’t mind. He wouldn’t have it anyway. In fact, if you batted those pretty lashes and asked him nicely enough, he would give you the world.

Everything you touched was all yours. 

Including himself.

The leash around his neck was a pleasant suffocation, second to the loving graze of that Louboutin tip caressing his jaw, trailing down his neck—leaving a trail of heat wherever the rubber sole touched.

“Look at you,” your exhale made the hair on his neck stand. You shifted in the sofa chair, and those sharp eyes couldn’t keep from flitting right between your legs where the short, black leather skirt could barely cover your glistening pussy. 

The tightness of the corset accentuates your curves, swathes of silk covering your shoulders like a gauzy dream. Naoya finds himself dumbstruck, staring right at the rise of your breasts fighting to spill out of the restrictive cups. You look like a fallen angel astride her throne, bearing down on him with a leer while he’s the foolish mortal worshipping you at your desecrated altar.

He fights back a groan when the sharp edge of your heel presses against his sternum, and you hum, slowly move it to his neck, prodding his Adam’s apple. 

“Like what you see?” your husky voice sends tingles straight to his leaky, neglected cock. 

It’s almost embarrassing how he’s standing at attention while you seem so unfazed, cool eyes roaming down the leather ties winding around his torso, binding his arms behind his back; leaving him trapped in your web of seduction.

Naoya fights back a sneer, taming his first instinct to spit back a derogatory word to your face.

You lift a brow, as if to goad him. Well, where is your fight now, Zen’in scum?

“Just because I’m on my knees doesn’t mean you're above me, whore.”

The second those words leave his toxic lips, he internally cringes.

Shit, no. I didn’t mean—

But, he doesn’t get to take his words back, not when you give the leash a harsh tug so he has no choice but to stumble even closer, shuffling on the cold floor with his sore knees. 

Clicking your tongue, you fix him with a devastatingly disappointed look. “And here I thought you were going to play nice tonight. You wouldn’t want a word of your little… habit… to reach your family, don’t you, Zen’in?”

Unlike alcohol or drugs, his addiction had no physical detriments. But, if someone were to ask him what he couldn’t live without, that tight little hole clenching right in front of him would be his answer.

He can’t help but slobber like a dog whenever he catches a whiff of you, spit pooling in the back of his throat, hastily swallowed down when you smirk. 

“You still want to taste me? After what you said?” You kiss your teeth, and this time, your right heel is flat on his chest. You exert the slightest force to push him back, and he clenches his core with his entire strength, determined not to bow to your desires. “Pathetic.”

That incriminatory word accompanies your heel moving downward, and he almost murmurs a whine when he feels the pointy tip caress his stiff cock. Your cruel, red lips twist into a sneer, and you don’t stop for him to take a breath, flexing your toes and nudging the hard rubber against his weeping tip.

“Look,” you coo. “You made such a mess.”

The expensive leather of these heels he painstakingly scoured day and night for you was besmirched with his own pre. Naoya feels his face heating up, especially when you push your heel under his nose, your next command implicit and unmistakable.

Despite his pride, none of his blue-blooded dignity is a match for all that lustful blood and desire pooling south right in between his legs. Cheeks pink, pupils blown wide with lust, he bends his head forward, pink tongue flitting out to lap at the smooth red surface, a low groan tumbling from his swollen lips when he tastes himself right on the imported leather.

“Good boy.”

Giddy with relief, he eagerly expresses his gratitude, continuing to lick and polish your shoe with his tongue.

You hum, evidently impressed. Chucking your right heel off to the floor, he’s left impressed by your red polished toenails straining past the thin black panty hose stretching across your delicate and graceful foot.

His cock throbs, silvery drops staining the floor. 

Without warning, you grasp his chin, forcing him to look right into your fervent eyes. Your hair flows wildly, cheeks warm and lips so swollen from biting down on them. 

“You’re really such a messy, boy, aren’t you, Naoya?” 

He almost groans when the rough nylon touches his jaw, your foot right in his face. The smell of your arousal is strong enough to make him dizzy, and he’s almost delirious, wrapping his lips around your toes, sucking and licking them until the black fabric is drenched with his spit. The artificial plastic taste gives way to the softness of your skin, and he’s sure he would’ve exploded all over untouched if you hadn’t removed your toes from his mouth. 

All worked up and tied down with no friction, his hips buck, veins popping up on his neck from trying his hardest to not plant himself face first into your inviting cunt.

You’re not making it any easier.

Your whispery moans, feathery sighs. Naoya feels like he’s died twice and still missed his chance at heaven.

The leash in your hand clinks, and you give one harsh tug, getting his attention.

“Tell me,” you start, foot resting right on his neck. “What always brings you here? To me?”

Naoya’s a man of many vices. Drugs, pretty girls, alcohol—everything under the sun is what he’s sampled during his wretched time at the Zen’in estate.

No one has ever said ‘no’ to him. Worst of all, they let him run rampant.

But, you… 

You’re the first to ever keep him in line.

Those pretty eyes blink, hazy and lowered. “It seems you’re not as serious about this as I thought.”

Slim fingers topped with a pearlescent nail polish tug at his collar; reminding him of his spot below you.

One errant glance, and he drinks in your soft curves, the fleshiness of your sacred thighs.

Holy. Beautiful. A sin dangling right in front of his face. 

You’re still waiting for an answer, but what could he say?

That he’s fucking sick in the head and everytime he closes his eyes, all he sees is your face hovering in the darkness behind his lids; beckoning him to burn everything he knows and step into the void beyond with nothing but your hand to hold?

How could he—the only Zen’in son—even think to leave the lap of his luxurious life just for the chance to lay his head on yours? 

You don’t care about his worries or why he suddenly lapses into silence.

You’re waiting for his answer.

“I…” he licks his lips, wetting them. If he had puppy ears, they would’ve dropped by now. “I… n-need you.”

“What was that?” 

Your taunts, your sly ways… 

Naoya could never have enough of you. 

“I need you,” he confesses in a low murmur. 

The red hue of your lips perfectly matches your shoes, and Naoya wonders how the pigment will look smeared all over his pale neck and chest. He wants you to mark him; to make him yours.

“You can taste me.” Finally giving him the permission he’s been aching for, the Zen’in heir can’t hold back his excitement at getting to bury his tongue in your cunt. 

You spread your legs, manicured nails parting your folds to show him the glistening heart of your arousal ready to be devoured.

Naoya licks his lips, shoots you one longing glance. May I? 

Still obedient. Still waiting. 

A hopeless devotee waiting for his final blessings. 

You nod imperceptibly, giving him the green light.

He moans at the first taste of you, sublime and musky—you melt right on his taste buds. Your thighs twitch in the periphery, breaths hitching. 

The first time he ever ate you out, Naoya had put on such a horrible performance, you sent him back home with an explicit command to study how to pleasure a woman before you let him back into your sheets. The second time was marginally better, and by the third, he had you gushing down his chin, crying out in lusty surprise. 

No one could say Zen’in Naoya did not put in the effort when the rewards were far too tantalising to give up.

The soft suction he has around your clit sends shocks of pleasure up your spine. A whimper drops from your parted mouth. Smaller fingers twine in his hair, holding him in place while your free hand tugs on his leash, reminding him of his place. 

What good is having everything handed to you on a silver platter if it doesn’t even taste this good? 

He's a lazy piece of shit in every part of his life except this one which he gladly works for. 

And your hard earned taste is sublime. Sweeter than sin. He’s drowning in such honeyed humiliation, he’s grown to crave it. 

Naoya is careful to use the exact pressure you love. The speed and consistent strokes you always came undone for. 

In return, your sounds give him an insight to how well he’s doing. Your elated sighs, hitched moans, broken whimpers.

There’s an endless want taking root, bleeding and rotting right where he supposes his ego should be. 

A want that turns into a need to be like this forever—to be the only one who touches, teases and tastes you.

To see the desperation glossing over in your eyes. Feel your thighs tremble around his shoulders.

For his devotion, he wants you to use him thoroughly. Impeccably. You should always get your way with him—that is the law of his Universe. 

“So good for me,” you breathe and everything in his world is ablaze. “My obedient pet.”

Yours. Yours. He was all yours.

He looks good right in between your thighs—even more handsome when his mouth is busy. 

The bridge of his perfect nose brushes your clit, that toxic pink tongue so used to spewing hate buried right in your tight heat. 

Neglected and leaking freely, almost pathetically, his cock is red raw and angry; shallowly humping the air. You want to laugh at him—at this humbled, spoiled rich boy who was being put in his place.

Whores like you are only good for one night. Those haughty words from when you first met him stains your memories, making you seethe. 

You want to slap him for what he said. Kiss him stupid until his blind prejudice turns to love.

Naoya tenderly touches the tip of his tongue back to your clit, those hazel eyes flitting up to your face, as if searching for approval. You hum, fisting those dark-tipped blonde locks. 

“Go on,” you coax. “Make me cum on your tongue like a good boy.”

Good boy.

Good boy. 

Good boy. 

Triggered, his entire body reacts, shuddering almost violently. His chest squeezes, and something deep in his soul breaks. 

I love her, Naoya thinks fiercely. A bound worshiper on his knees—that’s what he is. And like a mad devout, he would serve you for the rest of his life. I can’t live without her.

He bathes his devotion right on your perfect cunt with his tongue; unable to get enough of your pleasurable sighs.

“You’re making me feel so good.” 

He groans, wishes you would unbound him so he could show you how much he wants to adore you. 

Naoya would serve you on his hands and knees for as long as you want him because fuck his family.

His father could kill him. His brother would make fun of how far he’s fallen. 

His entire world could come crashing down, but if you were there, he would gladly let it all burn. 

It feels like hours he’s been in between your thighs. Naoya would’ve thought his tongue would give out, but even if it did, he would force the limp muscle to work. 

He must pleasure you. He must please you. It’s the very core of his being.

Your hand leaves his hair, and he chances a quick look to find it slowly undoing your corset, one devastating button at a time. Your aching breasts spill out, sweet and tender, nipples sharp and ready to be sucked on. 

He chokes on a moan, feeling his head growing lighter. You’re sucking on your own fingers, gooey strands sticking to those damp digits as they glide across your stiff nipples. It makes him cross eyed how you're  kneading your tits and playing with yourself while he services you. 

With every encounter, he’s grown more accustomed to your reactions. Learned how to trace the path of your release with his fast reflexes and mind. 

Your feathery moans, hitched sighs. A soft cry and your plush thighs twitching. 

Give it to me. He nearly cries out. Give me that sweet nectar, my love. All of it. For me—just for me.

“I’m cumming,” you gasp. He doubles down on his efforts, trying to get you to lose it all. “Shit. Shit—”

You curse, grasping his hair as you work yourself to the edge, back bowed and head tossed back. 

More, more, more. 

He growls, aggressively working his tongue back into your little, pulsing hole. Your clit is throbbing, and his chin is slick with your juices. 

So sweet. You taste too fucking sweet. 

Naoya drinks from you like a starved man. Your thighs are shaking, whimpering gasps slipping past your trembling lips. 

His lips leave your cunt with a slick pop, and he flickers those sharp hazel eyes across the soft expanse of your belly; sweeping past your hard nipples and your flush throat.

He eases back on his haunches, waiting for your next command. Always eager and ready.

“Come here.”

You lean forward, grabbing him by the shortened leash and tugging him closer.

He barely has time to prepare himself for your kiss searing across his mouth, his groans lost in the frenzy of your tongue fighting to quell any errant sound.

Naoya kisses you until spit runs down his chin and you’re lapping right at his teeth, his gums. He feels your tongue twine with his own, smearing red lipstick all over his open and heated mouth. 

Growing dizzy from the lack of oxygen, he cracks open his lids at half-mast, tracing your movements as you lean back into the couch, sated and content.

His knees are surely bruised by now, and the circulation in his legs could be cut off for all he cares. And yet, he never wavers in his devotion, awaiting your next word.

“Can you stand?” 

You get to your feet, kicking off your errant high heel and stretching your calves. He shifts forward, wincing when blood comes rushing back to his stiff limbs. 

Naoya braces one foot on the floor, trying to get himself up with sheer strength and stubbornness alone.

For a man who spent hours on his knees, he’s surprisingly limber when he staggers to his full height. 

Your palms smooth across his broad pecs, trace down his muscular obliques and sinewy biceps; feeling his traps stiffen under your touch. 

Despite standing a head shorter than him, his presence dwarfs your own—you're a supernova and he's flickering starlight about to fall into the center of your gravity. 

There’s a smudge of red by the corner of your mouth, and he fights the urge to lean forward and kiss it. 

Your fingers play with the hair on the nape of his neck, and you grab it, pulling it with enough force to make him wince. With what easy force you have, you push him back, little by little; testing his give. Until it’s him who’s sat on the couch, legs spread wide and completely pinned under the weight of your heavy-lidded stare.

Mounting him, you push back your hair, and he can’t help to stare at the graceful curve of your neck—how your perfume drowns him in waves.

Strawberries and cream. Something warm underneath the current, like freshly done laundry. 

Sweetness and sin all wrapped in one with a little red bow. 

All he can see is red.

Your red lips, softly tracing kisses from his jaw down to his chest.

The red shine of your leather heels, haphazardly tossed onto the floor.

Red on the inside of your mouth where your gum meets teeth; he feels like you could devour him in a heartbeat.

Naoya wishes he could drown in the vermillion hue till all he lives, breathes and loves is red.

You reach for his cock, stroking it slowly, watching his reaction. 

A vein pops from his forehead. His breathing goes from hard to laborious. 

You mess with his mind. 

Take away his resolve. 

Naoya’s lips hover in the orbit of your own, two stars that flirt with a colliding end. 

You’re the first to chase destruction, kissing him while you stretch yourself over his cock. 

“Fuck,” he groans into your hair. “You’re going to kill me one day, darling.”

And Naoya’s not one to say such pretty words, but something about the sincerity in his gritty baritone, how those hazel eyes flutter close, makes you want to believe in anything he says. 

There’s a picture of two not quite lovers silhouetted in the dim darkness, her arms around him; his face finding solace in the crook of her neck. 

His hands twitch, sliding in their bonds, and he wishes he could hold her—wishes she could move her hips faster. 

“Naoya,” you moan into the sensitive shell of his heated ear.

Indescribable. You’re a vision he can never get enough of.

Someone who knows him inside and out despite not sharing his family name. 

You’re the antithesis of everything he should want. You’re not particularly powerful or famous. Not from a family worthy of joining your names together.

And yet, he’s stuck here. Chooses to be under your indescribable touch while you rock your hips, taking him deeper where he’s never gone before.

“I—hah…” he trails off, throat going dry. 

You’re astride his lap, staring down at him, but he doesn’t feel small under your scrutiny.

If anything, something warm wraps around his throat, making his chest ache.

He wonders if you’re hurting the same way. 

Naoya can’t form any words. Your pussy’s taking him so well. 

He’s delirious. Wishing he had half of his wits left to stop you from distracting and disarming him. 

“Does it feel good?” You tantalize in a teasing coo. “Being fucked by someone lower than you?” 

He’s stammering, unable to hold back any longer. Fight back any pretenses. 

“Yes. It feels so good.”

You hum. “You should see yourself. All sweaty and fucked out—just for me.” 

His glassy eyes and gritted teeth almost make you laugh. Naoya sniffles, unable to hold back his baser needs.

He would do anything to make this moment last. He doesn’t want to return back to reality once this is all over.

“You want to cum so badly inside of me.” It’s not a question but a statement. Naoya can’t even deny it. He would be a fool to lie to himself. “Don’t you?”

You push him for an answer, intentionally slowing down your hips. Your smaller hands wrap around his throat, squeezing down, choking him whenever he starts to buck too soon.

“Don’t,” you warn. Strained and breathless. “You’re nothing but my tool, Naoya. I cum first.”

He nods, panting with his mouth wide open. A desperate dog for your affection. 

“Yes. Yes.” 

You scrape your fingers through his hair, grabbing a fistful of it. Naoya loves it when you start to tug.

It means you’re close enough to lose your control. 

He feels it in the faltering of your hips, your pretty lips parted to emit breathless whines. 

Your eyes screw shut, head lolling back to expose your pretty neck to his scrutiny. Naoya wants to taste your skin, feel your pulse ticking under his lips.

“Please,” he manages to strain out. “C-can I lick your neck?” 

You slow the roll of your hips, a confused tilt of your head. “You want to—what?”

“Neck,” he pants out, unable to hold back his hips from shunting deep inside you, feeling your gummy walls fluttering around him. He swears he’s about to lose his entire mind. “C-can I taste your skin?” 

Your answer comes in pushing his face right into your neck, like he’s taking shelter from the world right in the crook of your body. 

Naoya doesn’t hesitate to leave indents of desperation on your skin, where they tingle and are sure to blossom into hickeys later. He paints your neck with his tongue, tasting salt, skin and an undercurrent of sweetness which he can’t shake off.

You’re grinding on him, clit bumping the coarse terrain of his pubic hair. His mouth is devoted to leaving as many marks as he could on your skin. 

It was the breaking of an unspoken rule—Naoya was never allowed to claim you like this. 

A dark thrill shoots up his entire body. 

Could you finally be warming up to the idea of him?

Taboo. Hidden. 

That is how his love for you is forced to be. 

The Zen’ins could never know of your existence. If they did, no doubt the elders would try to remove you from his life whether through force or coercion.

Damn them all to Hell, Naoya thinks, fighting back a groan when you release a string of mewls, his name mingled in your sounds of you losing to the deep end. 

You’re so close.

His bound arms ache not from the restraint but from the inability to hold you. Naoya knows that if he does, he may never let you go.

It’s a blessing and downright atrocity how magnificent you look when you cum.

Cheeks all warm, kiss-bitten lips parted, legs splayed wide to show off his raw cock slicking in and out of you.

You’re so wet driblets of creamy white rivulets down his balls, streaking your thighs.

He wants to ask if you’re still on the pill. Naoya thinks the one surefire way to force his clan’s acceptance is if your body yields and gives him a son. 

Only then will this union stand a chance to shine.

But, the words get trapped in the back of his throat; he can’t help thinking that even if he remains your plaything, he would give up the entire world to watch you cum. 

The tips of your hair touch his thighs, and your breasts look inviting enough to suck and bite, jiggling right in his face. Tempting him like twin apples of sin, promising him more than what the Zen'ins’ long dead garden could give him. 

“Kiss me,” he pleads.

You laugh, airy with a hint of triumph. 

“Why should I do that?”

He can’t think. 

Can’t feel anything except for your slick walls melting around him, your soft arms holding him right to your chest. 

“Please,” he tries again, more desperate. “I need to kiss you.”

You relent, just this once. 

Your lips touch his, velvet soft and tasting of him. He moans into your mouth, his entire body jerking as if touched by a livewire.

He’s trying to hold back—to buy his body more time so he can pleasure you.

Naoya’s never been one to put someone else above his own needs but with you, it comes naturally. 

He lives and breathes for your praise. Needs to feel your pride for him or else he thinks he might just die from its lack.

“So good for me,” you give it without a second’s thought. He thinks you’re sent from somewhere up above. “Does my pussy feel good?”

He makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat. It’s too good.

You’re teasing him now, all lidded eyes and wet lips. “Don’t you just want to cum in me? Isn’t that what you want?” 

He’s about to answer when your thumb presses into his pulse point, middle finger digging into the side of his neck. 

Naoya chokes on his reply, managing a teary little nod.

“Want to flood all inside of me—so hot and heavy. Isn’t that right?”

He whimpers at the mental image of white coating your walls, getting sucked into your body, trickling past your cervix.

Where it might take and bloom.

“Yes,” he gurgles, looking at you like you hung the moon. “Y-yes.”

“What do you want?”

“I-I want—” he’s unable to speak, afraid that if he does, he will cum. And he can’t do that yet. 

You haven’t given him permission to.

A slap across his cheek. Naoya’s cock jumps from the bite of pain, fire crawling across the reddening skin. 

It’s his ego that feels the sting more than his face. He’s already a disappointment to you. 

“Are you forgetting?” You snarl, tightening your fist around his throat. “You answer me when I ask you something.” 

“—Cum,” he spits out, every fiber in his body growing numb except for the spot between his legs; the sensation amplified by the lack of oxygen. You’re fucking him harder and faster now. 

You release his throat and he sucks in a few jagged breaths. 

His cock is too heavy, red and swollen with the load he’s been holding back for the past hours of your torment.

How long has it been since you’ve kept him strung and on his toes?

One hour? Two?

Naoya doesn’t want to count down the minutes; he wants to take in every second of your attention. 

Slowing your hips again, you coo, toying with him like a precocious little kitten finding a mouse. “Is that it?” 

You sink your fingers in his hair, adjusting yourself so your thighs are splayed further apart on each side of his hips. 

If his hands were free, they would run up the smooth expanse of your back, down your plush thighs. Softness gliding across his fingertips, your body an open map to explore. 

He would ask you to put those heels back on for him, but as it was, Naoya could barely form a coherent thought.

“I want to taste you,” he confesses with an errant sniffle. “Put you on your back and fuck you—shit.”

He curses when he feels you clench down on him. 

“And then what?” you breathlessly prod.

Splashes of white behind his closed lids. Naoya’s so close, he could cum with one more thrust.

Your soft palm flushes flat against his pelvis, holding him in place. Keeping him skewed in this limbo of motion and pleasure.

Adjusting yourself, your cunt molds around him more snug than before; your position shifting along with your intentions.

You keep him inside you, warm and inert, ticking your hips in slow, sensual circles to goad him.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Feels so good, you feel so good.

“Need you,” he whimpers hoarsely.

You laugh, a pretty chime that makes his heart hurt. “I know. But, you still haven’t answered my question yet.”

You shunt your hips forward, egging on his reply.

There’s something underneath those airy words. A fissure of need; curiosity waiting to be watered.

Why do you come to me when you could have anyone else in the world?

He blinks the gloss of tears, gritting his teeth. The last of his patience is wearing fucking thin. 

“I want to fuck you until you’re mine—until you’re pregnant.”

The image of you, round and sweet, carrying his sons, makes Naoya almost lose it. His cock pulses in pathetic response, and your faded red lips quirk into a secretive smile.

“Pregnant, huh?” You pick up the speed, clipping your hips with his. 

Naoya isn’t prepared, his body tightening against the assault of pleasure you so casually wreck onto him. 

“Y-yes.” He nods, and it’s adorable how desperate he looks.

The famed Zen’in heir, reduced to a sentient dildo for a woman his family would call ‘lower class trash’. 

It would make your entire soul soar if you weren’t so concentrated on mocking him.

“And do you think I would allow it?” You sneer. “I don’t want your babies.”

Worse than your slap, Naoya actually feels his heart breaking.

His jaw clenches and he grits his teeth. The tears in the corner of his eyes are mingled with both pleasure and heartbreak.

“Why?” He groans, tilting his head back when you start to breathe heavier, your trembling body a shivering blanket over his own. 

His arms ache, his cock is about to burst and he’s been digging his heels into the carpeted floor for the past minute trying his damndest not to thrust into you.

If you want to break him, you might just succeed tonight.

You tip your face closer to his, and he drinks those poisonous words straight from your lips which intimately brush against his.

“You will never be enough for me.”

He wants to argue—I have money, riches, houses. I could treat you better than any asshole. 

But, what comes out instead is, 

“I would be if you let me.”

Your sensual grinding falters, and for a split second, he sees the emotions waver across your pretty face. 

You cup his cheek, thumb brushing his lower lip. Naoya’s eyes flutter close when he feels you sliding your digit past his mouth, pressing down on his tongue.

He obediently sucks, desperately wondering if you would respond. A tremor of sadness ripples across your pretty eyes.

You defy his assumptions once more, pressing your mouth to his lower lip, hot breaths hitting the sensitive strip of his jaw. 

“Don’t make me promises you know you will never keep.”

I won’t. He can’t fight back, not when you kiss him like you want to consume him. 

You pick up speed, using him to get yourself off; barely caring about his deep reverberated groans and clenching fists behind his back.

“Don’t cum,” you whisper, breath tickling the shell of his ear. “Hold it for me, baby. Hold it.” 

He tries. Oh god, he’s trying.

You’re the vixen coming straight from his horrors of hell, here to torment and tease him with your vice-like cunt and seductive ways. He presses his face to your neck, trails his lips down a heated path to the tops of your tits. 

Your groan reverberates in his hair when he starts to suck on your nipple, tonguing and teasing them to stiff, swollen peaks.

It sparks the pressure in your lower body, makes you fuck him harder again, taking him deep enough for the mushroom tip to touch your cervix. 

Naoya fights against the band waiting to explode, nails digging into his palms and leaving crescent moon indents. 

Not yet, the shrill reminder sets off everytime he desperately wants to explode. Not yet.

He nips on your stiff nubs, getting them all wet and perky before he moves his mouth back to the juncture of your throat.

You’re making it hard for him to focus, moving your hand south to cup his balls, squeezing them lightly in tandem to you sinking down his length. 

Sweat bullets down his back, his chest. It sheens over his skin, glosses across his face. 

Naoya’s panting now, glassy hazel eyes locked with yours. He can’t look away, not when he’s drowning in such a pretty death. 

I can’t, he mouths, unable to use his voice. His hips move without warning, pushing up into your tight heat. I need you. 

Such desperation makes you see stars, eyes squeezed shut and your thighs stiff—shoulders locked as you grab his hair harshly with two fists. 

Naoya cries softly when he feels your velvet walls melt all over him, going gooey and spurting warmth till it trickles down his balls. You crumple limply onto his chest, breathing hard.

His head thumps back on the headrest, feeling your body jerk and tremble like the last leaf of autumn. 

You lift your head, kitten-weak, and nuzzle his jaw. 

Naoya tilts his face forward, and you kiss him, leaning up slightly so that your bare and sweaty chest is pressed with his own. 

He takes your docility for his own selfish reasons; thrusting up into your tightening cunt, feeling your cum sloshing around and trickling further down to stain the sofa seat. 

The balls of his feet press firmly on the floor and he rocks your world slowly, surely. Even without the use of his arms, he’s a good fuck, hitting that one spongy spot inside of you with ease.

You spill out moans, his name lifting off your lips.

“Can I cum?” he manages to whisper. 

You’re too tired to speak, nodding.

Thank you. He fervently murmurs inwardly. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 

Naoya lets you hold onto him as he jerks himself off using your body, every hard thrust making you whimper and the couch creak.

With every muscle tensing, his release bursts like the hottest, ripest fruit; coating your walls and mingling with your essence to run white down his thighs. 

Your walls spasm around him again, a tinier tremor and you sigh, palming the collar around his neck.

Naoya’s spinning head barely registers you unlocking the damn leather circle, loosening the bonds around his arms. They hang free, blood running back into them and he wilts under your tender touch massaging the locked joints.

Once he’s limber and lucid, he scoops you into his arms, holding you tightly to his chest.

You want to scold him, to tell him this isn’t right.

He shouldn’t be holding you like you mean something to him.

It’s unheard of: a man like him and a woman like you.

But, drowning in the circle of his embrace, there’s no rank or rule. Just two people holding each other, skin melting onto skin, breaths shared as one.

“I want to stay here,” he breathes, eyes drooping close. He reminds you of a tired puppy, worn out from a rough day of play. “Sleep here. With you.”

Your rebuttal is swift. “You know you can’t.”

Lethal as you are, you’re still a woman and at every core of one is a tender romance waiting to be nurtured.

Naoya hopes his pout will move you, but your heart must be made of brambles when you shake your head, refusing his sway.

He falters, and that stupid, stupid ache is back in his chest.

“Can I at least hold you then?” 

It’s a meager trade-off when all he wants is to melt into your life and become the air you breathe.

This time, you don’t fight him off, wrapping your arms tighter around his broad shoulders, sinking your fingers into his hair.

“For how long?”

This vulnerability is new. A reveal you hadn’t expected to make.

Naoya must also sense it. He hums. How adorable can she be? 

“As long as you want me to.”

He thinks you murmur the word “forever” into his shoulder. You kiss his neck, underneath his ear. Dew drops of devotion landing upon his skin.

You don’t demand it of him, however. 

You could never ask that of him.

— reblogs and feedback will earn you a big wet kith <3

©️ lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, edit or claim characterisation and storyline for your own.

[klttn]

when I see someone asking for vox requests, I immediately sense it. what abr vox w a reader that's owned by him (smth like angel/valentino or husk/alastor) you can have fun and make it as smutty/fluffy as you want, ty!!

⁺˳✧༚ ˚ 𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓉𝓎 𝓅𝓊𝓅 ｡⋆୨୧˚

— 𝜗𝜚 vox x f!reader

ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 summary : you sold your soul to vox only for him to treat you like the good little puppy you are. nsfw. toxic relationship. ownership. collars. leashes. reader is mute when she’s subby. vox is a smidge manipulative. dubious consent at times. vox is also a softie.

𝜗𝜚 vox knew from the moment he saw you, he had to have you. such a pretty little thing, how could he not? it’s safe to say sinners like you were desired in hell. you looked like pure innocence and sin wrapped into one. a cute fawn puppy with wide eyes and soft thighs.

𝜗𝜚 he found you by chance, crying, after his dick of a situationship had abandoned you for someone new. someone who would give up everything to him, including their soul. you wouldn’t even fuck him. part of you thinks that’s the only reason he kept you around. to try and earn the rights to your cunt. vox’s manipulation was much sweeter than that.

“hey little puppy,” vox had mused, voice thick as honey, “no need to be scared, i won’t hurt you.” he seemed so trusting, so gentle.

you’d only seen him with val on set or occasionally on ads so seeing him like this was entirely different to the picture you’d painted of him. so that’s when you decided to take a risk, “promise?”

𝜗𝜚 all you’d known with val was emotional mind games and verbal abuse for not submitting but with vox? he seemed to care so much more than that. he was so loving and sweet, treat you like an angel. loved you.

𝜗𝜚 that’s all you wanted, it was so easy. so you gave him everything. your mind. your body. your soul. just like he wanted.

“you’re mine right, puppy?” vox questioned hands stroking over your soft fluffy ears as you nodded in response. “so let me own you. give me your soul. you’ll be only mine and i’ll protect you forever.” his harsh words laced with something so sickeningly promising to your naive brain.

how could you say no?

𝜗𝜚 after that, vox never held back, you couldn’t leave him after all. he had you collared 24/7. using the leash that bound you to him to tease you and drag you where he pleased. he was still so attractively enticing. that would never change. his cunningness wrapped up in a pretty bow so well that you didn’t care he was manipulating you.

𝜗𝜚 he’d use you to make val jealous sometimes too, having you draped over him as his arm candy. have you dress so scantily. take you to all his events to show you off, show them what they couldn’t have. and more importantly who you belonged to.

“who’s this pretty girl by your side?” a reporter would ask, eager to put a name to vox’s ’girlfriend’.

“oh? her? she’s just my puppy,” would be his answer. so simple yet you loved something about it. a slight pat on your head and a soft “good girl,” to leave the viewers with the thoughts of your wide eyes and soft mouth as you bit your lip at the praise.

𝜗𝜚 it wasn’t only manipulation to him despite it getting you this far. he did love you. everything about you, like he was the love sick puppy here. your hair, your eyes. the way your soft ears would react to things. how easily excitable you were. the way you would cuddle up to him after work like a doggy would it’s owner. but i suppose that’s exactly what you were. just a simple little pup with her doting owner.

“where’s my baby girl?” he’d shout through the halls of his home as you’d come running to the door, so much excitement rushing through you. you’d think he’d been gone for days not merely a few hours.

“i missed you,” would always be the first thing you’d say. “now never leave me again.”

𝜗𝜚 eventually you let him have you. let him fuck you. the fact he waited despite owning you only spurred you on more to let him ravish you. he was loving and gentle at first, so vanilla and constant i love yous, earning the right for more than that. even though he didn’t have to. so when it came down to it, you’d coyly asked him to take care of his baby in heat too. giving him full control of your sex. every aspect of it.

𝜗𝜚 the first time you allowed yourself to drop into that subby state of mind, vox couldn’t quite believe what he was witnessing. how was it possible for someone already so innocent and pliable to become more so? he adored the way your doe eyes would gloss over as you looked up at him through battered lashes with full submission.

𝜗𝜚 he loved everything about ruining you. how he could tell by the way your thighs would flush exactly what you needed. how you would stick your tongue out and pant on your knees for him when you wanted to suck him off. but what he loved the most about this was how you would go mute. he revelled in how you couldnt say no or stop him. your ditsy brain too full so all you could do is whimper n whine and mewl such pretty noises.

a tug on your leash pulled your malleable body closer into him. his cock abusing your cunt to the point of tears, “just a bit longer pup, please” he'd groan, out of breath, wiping your tears and gripping you harder, pumping into you til it had you yelping and trying to pull him off of you. he wouldn’t let you. vice grip overpowering you and forcing on to say on his cock. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry, fuck, baby i’m sorry, i’m so close, i know it hurts, shit, i’m gonna cum.”

he’d pull out and hold you tighter than ever, littering your face in kisses, telling you you’re such a good girl, such a good puppy for letting him use you. how proud he is you milked his cum. of course that’s all your silly head needed to hear.

𝜗𝜚 vox always gave aftercare. always. running your baths, getting you your favourite snacks, taking care of you, not dare letting you lift a finger after the harsh activities he’d assault on your body. when you’d settled down enough, he’d hold you, letting you watch your favourite shows on his screen. that was something he loved to do for you. so much.

𝜗𝜚 he was just as clingy as you sometimes. needing you close and on him, always by his side. whining and mumbling how you don’t love him if he doesn’t have your eyes and attention on him. he always made you giggle with that. so when one night you were cuddled up watching tv, he came up with the idea.

“puppyyyyyy,” vox grumbled, watching how your ears would twitch in acknowledgement, “look at me!!” he was tugging at your pyjamas and pulling on your collar, needy in such a demanding and assertive way.

“wanna watch this, voxie, already so close n got my head on your chest.”

wrong answer. he didn’t like that.

vox sighed and clicked his tongue, turning off the screen and wordlessly forcing you to straddle his lap. “my puppy should do as she’s told,” your breath hitched at his words as his screen glitched and the show you were watching flashed across where vox’s face should be. “even if that means i have to make her.”

your cheeks blushed as you got comfy to his thighs. vox’s hands raked across your body, zoning out again. trying not to get too embarrassed and show how much you liked this. loving how vox needed you this badly. “so much better, right baby?”. you nodded your head before one of vox’s fingers crept to part your lips and let your oral fixation take over, sucking and lapping.

𝜗𝜚 overall you were the happiest you’d ever been, no matter how toxic it may be, and so was vox. it all went according to his plan that day when he decided he had to have you. you were now his. owned and controlled. loved and cherished. his puppy.

A/N : i just love vox okay!! i would sell my soul to him for free just to get to submit to him <3 anyways… i hope you liked this and as always please please give me support!! tell me your thoughts, they’re always welcome

[yandere-genji]

Hi, big fan of your work!! Could you please do Yandere Genji or Cassidy snooping through their fem s/o's internet history to make sure she's been a good girl, only to discover she's been looking at all different kinds of sex toys?

tw: yandere, abuse reader is gender neutral

💚 Genji

What sets Genji apart from other yanderes is his method of keeping his darling under control. Genji works from a distant. Sure, stalking goes without saying, but his motive runs deeper than simply watching his darling from afar. Since his time in Blackwatch, he’s worked in the shadows. Honed the ability to use himself as threat to subdue enemies. Because when you realize he’s made you a target, it’s already too late. 

So he might not be by your side commanding your every move, but he’ll be there. The unsettling wind at your back, the shuffling of footsteps somewhere in the distance, the displaced objects in your home. He might confront you face to face, depends on what he has planned for you. But by technicality, you’ll have your own space. 

But is it yours, really? Because you can’t relax when you have eyes on you. You’re hyper vigilant, all too aware of any vulnerability you might expose. Still, Genji doesn’t have time to keep watch on you at every second. He has business to attend to from time to time. So when you do have those moments alone, you’re quick to take advantage of them.

Unfortunately for you, Genji is always sure to check up on you when he returns from his duties. He has a few excuses for this, namely that he wants to make sure you’re doing alright, that you’re safe. It’s thinly veiled, though, when he rummages through your delicates, unlocks your laptop and searches your internet history. It was only a matter of time until he stumbled across your unsavory interests, but he can’t help the smile that creeps on his face at the victory of unveiling them. 

When you come home, the atmosphere is uneasy, an eerie shroud weighing heavy at your breast. Small things had been misplaced in ways that don’t make sense. You flick the lights on in your bedroom, and you’ve seen Genji before, but never so close and in such an intimate space. 

He approaches you and you’re too stunned to even move. He holds up his hand and turns over a particularly impressive toy you’d had your eyes on, though the sight of it now has you ill at ease. 

“This one caught your eye?” your face burns red as he examines the toy in his hand, “You’ve indulged me this much, I thought I might return the favor.”

❤️‍🔥 Cassidy

If you’ve never had a helicopter parent, Cassidy is going to take a lot of adjusting too. He loves to baby you, always watching over your shoulder and keeping you on a tight leash. His trust is gained in drops and lost in buckets, so his vigilance all depends on your temperament. That being said, he is very generous in rewarding good behavior, the conditions of which involves varying degrees of eager submission. Just be a good baby, and you’ll have nothing to worry about. 

But it’s not the worry that gets to you. It’s the constant hovering, he’s by your side whenever he can be and watching your every move. You have to be his perfect little angel or he’ll be sure to correct you, and God does he take every chance he can get. The more you gain his trust, though, the more forgiving he will be. 

At first, he’ll shower you with little gifts like clothes or trinkets, he might even let you have some TV time. Then it’s trips to the park, picnic dates and even some restaurants, with the condition you never leave his side. Still, the outside exposure is dearly missed. And when he buys you a laptop, you wonder if it’s a test.

Despite his experience in a highly technical organization, Cassidy is completely oblivious to anything involving technology or computers. It was never a skill he had use for developing, his brute strength capable enough to render any other ability useless. So, he was handing the responsibility to you, trusting you wouldn’t betray him. 

And you didn’t, you were really good, especially when it was new and exciting. The little things were enough to satisfy you, watching YouTube videos, listening to your own music, or simply reading the news. It’d been so long since you had internet access. As time went by, you got a little bolder, messaging some friends and playing video games. But nothing could’ve prepared you for the urge you felt when Cassidy was sent out in a mission, leaving you all to yourself. 

When he was here, you had your fill of sexual attention. Honestly, you couldn’t get his hands off of you. Though it could be exhausting, it trained in you a need. Something you couldn’t quit cold turkey. And without Cassidy to satisfy that craving, you developed a terrible habit of browsing sex toys. 

And what a stupid habit it was, especially when Cassidy caught you red-handed on an early return. The way his smile beamed made you want to recoil into yourself, vanish right then and there. 

“Cassidy! I can explain!” your mind was already in the process of spinning some story, “There was this stupid pop-up ad, I didn’t mean to click it - actually I was clicking out of it, but the stupid track pad- Oh my gosh, I swear.”

You knew he was going to laugh, you were prepared for him to tease you, you knew it was going to happen. But the preparation wasn’t enough to shield your embarrassment. 

“Naughty thing, ain’t ya?” he purred, his lips curling in a wily grin. 

“Please don’t be mad at me,” you pleaded with big doe eyes you knew would melt him. 

“Oh, pumpkin,” he cupped your chin and circled a thumb over your lips, “Must’ve missed me bad. Let me take care of you.”

From then on, pandora’s box was open. Cassidy loves to see you embrace your sexual side, especially when he can take advantage of it. And your new interest is another opportunity to do just that. He’ll have you put 

 on display while he sits back and enjoys a nice cigar and cool glass of whiskey. 

[sandorswhore]

chris nsfw headcanons

*these are about sex! if that makes you uncomfy, don’t read!

pink is you! orange is chris!

i shouldn’t have to say this but i feel like i have to: this is ALL CONSENSUAL

- yall already know this man is freaky as hell

- pretty much down to try anything

- having sex 5 or 6 times a week, pretty much anytime yall see each other and are able lol

- always marking you, new hickey every time yall are together

“chris don’t leave marks, people are gonna see”

“good, they’ll know who you belong to”

- you KNOW he loves spanking, loves seeing the handprint he leaves on your ass

-^also as a punishment and he WILL make you count

-makes sure you know your safe word

“what’s your safe word baby?”

“red”

“good girl, don’t be afraid to use it”

- wants to fuck everywhere

- ^every room in the house and in public bathrooms

- always asking for nudes, tries convince you to send them no matter where you are

“chris i’m at work”

“go to the bathroom”

- sending you dirty texts, completely detailing what he wants to do to you

- ^ he does not gaf where you are, you could be at dinner with your grandma, he doesn’t care

- LOVES car sex, especially when you ride him

- will literally tie you up and tease you till you’re crying

“daddy please too much!”

“you want me to stop baby?”

“…”

“that’s what i thought slut”

- LOVES your ass

- man always wants to fuck you from behind

- ^ holding your arms behind your back and pulling your hair

- “that’s my girl”

- will not let you cum until he says so, you literally have to beg him everytime

“daddy need to come please”

“beg me and i’ll consider it”

- gets a hotel room like once a month so he can fuck the shit outta you with no interruptions or distractions

- ^the fanciest room with a big ass bathtub

- big daddy/master kink

- ^try calling him something else in bed and see what happens…

- when it gets too much you try to push him with your hand but he just pins your hands down

“you’re so cute when you try to fight me”

- if you tease him you will be punished no question abt it

- loves when you scratch down his back

- loves when you tell him how big he is

- needs to cum inside you, pussy, ass or mouth, no where else

- loves hand jobs n blowjobs, esp with you on your knees in front of him

“look so pretty on your knees for me”

- loves when you’re needy, likes to see that you want him as much as he wants you

- has fav pieces of clothing and cannot and will not control himself when you wear them

- honestly probably super into breath play, bro wants you turning BLUE

- all the pet names

“such a good whore for me”

“you wanna cum princess?”

“my pretty little slut”

“let go for me pretty girl”

- wouldn’t be surprised if this mf wants you on a goddamn leash

- never lets you take your own clothes off

- hate to break it to you but “your” body is HIS

“this pussy belongs to me”

- always telling you to use your words

- ^wants you to tell him exactly what you want

“i can’t read minds angel”

-literally a god in bed, couldn’t be bad if he tried