#this is got so many notes now that people don’t know my blog is a kink blog 😅
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— meet cute of the century ⟢
the last thing you expected when you volunteered at your city’s local animal shelter is to meet the hottest cat person in the world. now if only he’d just adopt one of them so you’d stop ogling him every time he drops by.
★ FEATURING; wonwoo x reader
★ WORD COUNT; 25.4k words
★ TAGS; meet cute, strangers to lovers, pining, discourse abt being an idol as a career, mild angst, smut
★ NOTES; it's finally done!! and it turned out to be the longest oneshot i've written ever T T i reaaally didn't mean it to become this long but i got overly self-indulgent so here we are :3c also psa that this story features a handful of other characters from the series, so if you find them familiar that's totally on purpose HEH
this is part of the doting on you! series.
★ SMUT TAGS; unprotected sex, service top wonwoo, praise kink, voice kink, first time together, fingering, creampie, ofc they're grossly in love
★ TAGLIST; @cheolhub - @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @idkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jeonghancvunt - @jyiiscool - @jiniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @emmmui - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @novalpha - @dahliatopia - @0717luv - @shiveringgaze - @toruro - @mixling-blog - @coffeestay - @jkbabiey
★ SERIES TAGLIST; @ti--red - @jeonwonhi - @gyusbabydoll - @xiaoting999 - @marksluvr0 - @ohmyhuenings - @downbadreading
P.S. i reserve the right to refuse to add you to my taglist if you don't have any age indicators in your profile :^)
There are a handful of things that a college student can do with their free time. Studying, hanging out with friends, and maybe even picking up a hobby of sorts. You, on the other hand, use up all the hours you’re not spending on your undergrad thesis or sleeping the day away at an animal shelter just a few minutes away from your apartment.
Your friends constantly wonder how you’re still able to maintain a remarkable GPA with a part-time job that’s starting to look full-time, but you just laugh their questions off for the most part—saying that other people have got it worse than you, but can still perform leagues better academically.
You also tell them that most of your motivation comes from all the unadopted animals from the shelter. You started as a volunteer just to kill time on weekends when you’re free, but even if you knew better than to get attached to all those adorable faces, you eventually found yourself on the employee roster anyways.
Now you’re rushing to finish your degree so you can get a neat sugar mommy job that’ll let you afford to adopt everyone that’s been stuck in the shelter for nearly a year or more.
Okay, maybe not everyone because you’re no fool with a savior complex. But just enough to give a few furry friends a new home, right?
“Don’t look now,” your coworker, Mina whispers conspiratorially while you’re in the middle of snacking in the break room, “but that cutie you’ve been crushing on just walked inside. He’s checking out the cats out in the playroom as usual.”
Right. Apart from your altruistic dream of adopting as many animals as your financial capabilities can allow, there’s another reason you’re always looking forward to your shifts at the shelter. A reason that you’re a bit too embarrassed to let your friends know about.
You nearly choke on a potato chip when Mina informs you of the news and she immediately breaks into a fit of laughter. Glaring at her, you compose yourself with a long gulp of water before saying, “I do not have a crush on him.”
“Sure,” she plays along. “If you consider making googly eyes at the guy every time he drops by as ‘not having a crush on him’, then I’ll concur.”
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t, sweetheart. Now get out there and sweet talk him into taking one of the kittens home! Pretty sure he wants one if he’s been showing up as much as he did for the last two months.”
While you would’ve argued that the so-called cutie you’ve been crushing on could just like seeing the cats play around in his free time, you don’t really have much energy to play mental gymnastics with Mina. You’ve had a long day of revisions and other nonsense materials you have to submit for your majors, so you’ll let this one slide.
Your workplace is as bleak as every other shelter you’ve seen a few times in your life. Gray walls, concrete floors, and steel cages stacked on top of each other. It looks more like a prison than anything, really, but it’s the staff and those kind-hearted souls who rehome animals that have long been abandoned that give the entire place some life.
While Mister Cutie That You’ve Been Quote-Unquote Crushing On doesn’t exactly fall into either of those categories, you like to think he still leaves the building just a touch more colorful once he walks out of the front door.
Speaking of color, he’s wearing a loose, dark green shirt that falls just below his elbows. Cutie—as you’ve deigned to call him not because you think he’s cute but because you’re yet to get his name—has one palm flattened across the viewing glass of the playroom. He’s wearing his usual black face mask today, but from the way his eyes glint behind his glasses, you’re just going to assume he’s having a good time just by watching the cats frolic inside.
“You’re here pretty late,” you state nonchalantly before standing a few feet away from him.
“Is that so strange?” he murmurs with a chuckle, surprisingly not startled with your sudden entrance before glancing your way. “I always show up here at this hour, don’t I?”
God. No matter how many times you hear his voice, you just can’t get over how deep it is. But before any of your thoughts could show on your face, you get talking.
“True. You’ve sparked a debate among the volunteers about your line of work, actually.” Not exactly. You’re not sure if any of the volunteers have even seen this guy, since they mostly work day shifts. “Anyway, are you just here to check ‘em out or am I finally going to hand you the adoption papers?”
His eyes crinkle a bit before he shifts his gaze towards the playroom again. Most of the older cats have already been put back in their respective cages. All that’s left inside are the kittens with way too much energy to spare. The director, A.K.A., your boss, believes that it’s best to tire them out first before settling them into individual enclosures for the night. Keeps the place nice and quiet for the evening shift fellows like yourself.
“Not yet, sadly,” Cutie says with a sigh before pointing at a small black kitten huddled up in a corner. “That one’s new, isn’t it? I don’t think I’ve seen him around before.”
“Her,” you correct. “Her name’s Hani. She’s a stray that someone from the university I’m attending brought in last week. It was pretty ugly, actually. Poor thing got into an accident and was bleeding everywhere. Good thing our usual vet was paying a visit when they came here.”
“Oh? That’s a relief then. No wonder she’s got a little limp every time she walks around,” he observes with a saddened tone. “But I digress. You mentioned you were attending university?”
…Okay, why’d the topic of interest suddenly shift to you?
But since it’s a harmless enough question, you reply with, “Yeah. The one that’s just a few blocks away. It’s kinda why the person who found Hani brought her here instead of a vet clinic. The nearest one’s like half an hour away.”
“Good call, good call.” He nods with a look of understanding. “I hope someone comes and adopts her. She deserves all the love she can get. Well, everyone here does of course.”
You flash him a conniving smile, raising your brows a few times. “You could give that to her.”
Cutie shakes his head with another low-pitched laugh. “As much as I’d love to, my…living conditions won’t be suitable for her at all. Or any of the other animals for the matter.”
“Hm?” You stare at him curiously. “Your landlord doesn’t allow pets or something?”
“Mmm… Not exactly.”
The conversation pretty much ends there. Cutie excuses himself—saying that someone is waiting for him at home. You don’t know why your heart deflates a little at the very real possibility that he has a significant other. Then again, if you’re this whipped when you haven’t even seen his face, you could only imagine how easy it would be for him to settle down with someone who has.
Either way, it’s none of your business. And correction: you’re not whipped. Just…hyper aware of his presence every time he stops by.
Despite the fact that you’re dead-set on filing this strange fascination you have for the guy, however…
“Wait!”
Cutie turns around to face you with an inquisitive look. “Yes?”
You swallow thickly, deciding to just bite the bullet before your nerves get the best of you. “What’s your name? I can’t keep calling you Cu—I mean, Glasses Guy in my head whenever you pay us a visit.”
He blinks for a few seconds, obviously nonplussed by your forwardness but you don’t think your pride can take it anymore if you had to refer to him as—
“You can call me Woo,” he says warmly and you can almost see the smile that stretches behind that black face mask.
Shit. Did your heart just stutter?
“Mister Woo—”
“Just Woo is fine.”
“Okay, Woo,” you start, kind of liking the way that something that’s obviously a nickname rolls off the tongue, “just let me know if you ever want to take Hani home. We’re open twenty four-seven, as you already know.”
He nods. “Sure thing. Is it okay if I can get your number for that?”
Now you have to fight the urge to scowl at him after he’s been so nice to you all night—and every other night he’s dropped by.
This guy isn’t flirting with you. He said it himself—someone’s waiting for him at home. Plus, he’s expressed consistent interest in adopting a kitten for himself a handful of times before. Maybe he just connected with Hani on a level that’s above the others. Enough to ask for your number since the possibility of him bringing one of these angels home is becoming more and more real.
Yeah, that’s definitely the reason!
So you give it to him—hastily scrawled behind an old flier gathering dust in one of the drawers on the front desk. It’s way too big to write just yours and the shelter’s contact details on, but the other calling cards are nowhere in sight. You’ll have to ask Mina if she’s seen them once—
“Thanks. I’ll keep in touch,” Woo tells you while folding the sheet of paper into a sleek black Louis Vuitton wallet.
Wait a minute.
Before you can even seriously ponder about what job he’s got to be able to afford that, Woo is already out of the door—heading into the evening streets without once looking back.
“Gosh, I swear that guy’s an idol in disguise or something.”
That’s the first thing that Mina tells you when you find her doing a few rounds among the sleeping dogs in the far back. You haven’t even spoken a single word about your most recent exchange.
“What makes you think that?”
“He just exudes idol vibes, y’know? Shows up here when the place is deserted. Always acts subtle and inconspicuous. Oh and not to mention how hot he looks even with a face mask on! He could be that one idol your little sister is crazy about.”
You roll your eyes at her odd ways of deduction. “Mina, I’ve seen enough of Haewon’s Mingyu merch to last a lifetime and Woo definitely does not look like him.”
“Oh?” Your coworker perks up with a mischievous smile. “You finally got his name, huh?”
God. This is going to be a long shift.
The next time you see Woo is, surprisingly, not at an ungodly hour in the shelter.
Well, it’s still at an ungodly hour, but the change in venue is a little baffling. You were up all night studying (read: cramming) for a major exam that you’ll take at eight in the morning the next day. When you were finally at your wit’s end, you decidedly hauled yourself away from your laptop and fluttered off to the only twenty four-hour coffee shop in the neighborhood.
You don’t usually frequent this place because you’ve tasted their shitty americanos firsthand, but you’re not in the mood to grind some beans yourself and you’re much too stubborn to drink anything instant—convinced the powdered concoction would only make you sleepier.
So here you are, in line for an espresso because you’ve decided to give them the benefit of the doubt that maybe not everything on the menu tastes less than it’s worth. With how many other students are pulling all-nighters here, that should be testament enough that they tolerate the place’s drinks enough to linger.
But, to your horror, when you’re right in front of the graveyard shift barista, he informs you that wireless payments have been temporarily disabled and that they’re only accepting cash up front. You make a show of patting down the pockets of your hoodie to check for your wallet even if you know damn well that you left it back at your apartment on purpose. Just when you’re about to resign yourself to buying shitty instant coffee at a Seven Eleven instead, the person behind you in line clears his throat.
“Uh, I can pay for her drink.”
You don’t think you’ve ever whipped your head around to check for a person’s identity faster than you did at that moment. It’s not that you’re particularly obsessed with the low timber of his voice or anything, but you’d recognize the way the shelter’s late night regular speaks in a goddamn heartbeat.
“Woo?” you scowl as he maneuvers himself to the front of the line, bringing out that same Louis Vuitton wallet you were ogling the last time you saw him.
He pulls out a few banknotes and places them on top of the counter with what you think is a smile behind his mask. “Couple that with four iced americanos please.”
You purposely hold your tongue about your personal vendetta against that particular drink as the barista nods, punching in Woo’s order and asking for a name. Just when you thought he’d say the same one he’d given when you’d asked, however—
“Soonyoung. Oh, and I’ll get those drinks to go, please.”
Your gaze is on him the entire time as the two of you shuffle to the end of the counter to wait for your drinks. Woo is doing a pretty okay job at playing it cool despite the fact that he lied about the names on his orders. Or maybe he lied when he told you his name was Woo.
Either way, does it matter? It’s not strange for people to make up fake names for baristas to write on their coffees—Mina does it all the time. But something about the idea that the man standing in front of you doesn’t look like a Soonyoung bothers you more than it should. It makes you wonder what his actual name is and if it’s weird to ask when he already gave you one to address him with—
“Didn’t think I’d see you here,” he suddenly says and you nearly have a heart attack.
“Uh,” you start somewhat dumbly, before finally getting a hold of your brain. “I live around the area. Thought I could use a drink if I didn’t want to sleep through my lecture notes.”
He lets out a low chuckle and at that moment, you let yourself observe him a little more closely. His hair is hidden behind a black beanie which he expertly paired with an equally black parka that’s zipped up all the way. He’s wearing a different pair of glasses today—one with thick, black frames—and you’re starting to get an idea of what his favorite color might be.
“Is that why I haven’t seen you at the shelter these days?” he wonders. “Every time I dropped by last week, you weren’t on shift.”
Oh. Shit, he’s been visiting still? And he was looking for you?
“Yup, I needed to take a few days off because if I wanna graduate, I’ve got to keep myself from failing any of my majors,” you explain as briefly as you can—not wanting to go into detail about GPA requirements and your thesis. “How about you? Why’re you out and about at this hour, Soonyoung?”
It’s kind of adorable, how the tips of his ears flush pink at your words. “Soonyoung’s one of my friends. I actually went out tonight because I lost a bet and had to buy four of us coffee.”
You’re not sure how and why you feel a wave of relief wash over you, so instead, you brush the feeling aside before leaning against the counter. “Lost a bet about what, pray tell?”
Woo is quiet for a while, as if contemplating if he should unveil his losses to someone who’s virtually still a stranger before letting out a defeated sigh.
“Mario Kart.”
The snort you let out draws a few curious stares from other customers sitting near the counter and you force out an apology that’s underscored with a hiccup of laughter. Woo doesn’t seem at all offended by your reaction though. In fact, he seems even amused by it.
Not ten seconds later, the barista calls out his—rather, Soonyoung’s name and he hands you your drink while he carries a takeout package in his other hand. You try not to think too much about the way his fingers brush against yours when he gives it to you, thanking him despite the obvious redness settling across your cheeks.
“I actually meant to text you last week but I didn’t know if you were comfortable with it,” Woo admits as he opens the door to the coffee shop for you—thanking him as you step out of the air conditioned space and into the humid evening air. “I wanted to ask about the adoption requirements at the shelter.”
Part of you is a little skeptical about his explanation because… If he’s been dropping by your workplace as often as he claimed last week, then he could’ve just asked the other staff about the details. Why wait until he meets you again to bring it up?
But of course, you’re way too polite to ask that to his face.
“I don’t mind you texting me about that or…anything, really,” you say, turning up the flap on the lid of your espresso before taking a small sip. Bearable. “It’s not like I’m too busy to respond to you. Well, I kinda am, but I can spare a few minutes.”
Woo nods with a soft laugh. “Okay. I’ll just get into detail via text later. I gotta bring these coffees back or they’ll chew me out for the rest of the night for being late. Oh, but do you need someone to walk home with you?”
The idea of having your not-work crush escorting you home flusters you more than it should and when you take another sip of your drink, it nearly goes down the wrong hole. Woo pats your back in comforting fashion when you sputter from your coffee, tears stinging your eyes as you attempt to breathe like a normal person. Fuck, you must look so fucking weird right now.
“I-I, um, sorry about that.” You cough into your fist, laughing uneasily as you grip your drink a little too tightly. “No, it’s fine. I only live a few blocks away.”
Now that you mention it, does that mean Woo is the same? If he’s out here in this specific neighborhood at this specific hour, that would only mean he lives in the area, or is at least staying for the meantime, right? But before you could get swept up by your own curiosity, you immediately sweep any and all ideas under the rug.
“Oh, that’s—that’s good to know.”
He sounds disappointed. Why does he sound disappointed?
“So I guess this is goodbye? ” you start.
Woo nods briskly. “Yup. I’ll keep in touch.”
You chuckle. “That’s what you said last time.”
Whoa. Were you propositioning him or something? Sometimes, it baffles you how one minute, you’re choking on a cup of coffee—several shades embarrassed—and the next, you’re practically daring him to text you like he said he would.
“And I’ll make good on that as soon as time permits.” Woo shakes his head with a laugh. “It was nice seeing you again, though. Good luck with your exams.”
You can’t help the way your cheeks heat up yet again at the thought of him having remembered that you mentioned your exams. “Thanks. I think I need all the luck I can get.”
When Woo turns to look at you through those thick-rimmed glasses, you almost wish you could see the smile that’s undoubtedly spreading behind that pesky mask of his.
“I’ll be happy to give it to you every time then.”
Today was probably the shittiest day of the week.
Not only did you spectacularly flunk the exam you took this morning whilst running on less than two hours of sleep, but your thesis adviser emailed you about several concerns regarding the latest version of your manuscript. Needless to say, you spent a good chunk of your day holed up in the university library, consulting new reference materials to back up your data since the ones you used were much too outdated for your adviser’s liking.
It should’ve been something you’d consider a walk in the park, given the many revisions that have preceded this one, but it just so happens that you’ve got three more exams to worry about for the remainder of the week. Meaning, you had to squeeze in a few minutes of studying in between editing your newest draft and telling yourself that maybe it wouldn’t be too bad if you got held back for one semester before graduating.
You’ve been so caught up with your piling academic responsibilities that you’ve barely looked at your phone. You only deigned to dig it out of the deepest pit of your backpack when you got a little hungry and wondered if they still let food delivery guys past the school gates. To your surprise, you’re greeted with a few text messages that you immediately feel horrible for not replying to the moment they were delivered.
Unknown Number [10:45]: So about those adoption requirements…
Unknown Number [11:33]: Oh. Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. It’s Woo.
Ignoring the fact that you’re obviously famished, you hastily type in a response after marking down Woo’s number with a black cat emoji right next to his name. It takes a moment because you’re so shaky, you end up suffering from a few typos here and there.
Me [13:10]: hey! sorry i was a bit busy and i just saw these…
Me [13:10]: what do you wanna know? i’m on a self-imposed lunch break rn
Woo 🐈⬛ [13:15]: No worries, I figured you got a long day ahead. Hope lunch is good at least.
Me [13:16]: actually, i haven’t ordered anything yet ‘cause time got away from me but Anyways
Me [13:16]: you wanted details abt the adoption process?
Woo 🐈⬛ [13:18]: What? You haven't eaten yet?
Me [13:18]: yeah, but it’s no big deal. i could just have some food delivered.
Woo 🐈⬛ [13:19]: Well, I’m out right now. I could just buy some food for you and drop it off.
Your eyes practically bulge out of their sockets when you read each word of Woo’s text message. Is he being serious right now? The guy just paid for your coffee last night—a coffee that you forgot to pay back because of how surprising the circumstances were. Now he’s offering to buy you lunch?
Me [13:20]: you really don’t have to, i swear!! i’ve still got a few discount vouchers in baenim
Woo 🐈⬛ [13:22]: I insist. I’ve got my bike with me anyway.
Me [13:22]: bike? like, a bicycle?
Woo 🐈⬛ [13:23]: Mmm. Close. Anyway, what food do you want?
Now what the hell does that mean?
Part of you feels like you should be freaked out with how…kind he’s being to you. The world is full of weirdos who play the nice guy just to do something despicable to you in the end. Yet another part of you—a less reasonable one, admittedly—insists that Woo is nothing like that, despite the fact that you barely know the guy.
Then again, you’re tired, stressed out, and barely slept a wink last night. If the hot guy you’ve been quote-unquote crushing on is offering to buy you food, where’s the harm in accepting?
Me [13:25]: fine. i could use some yangnyeom chicken and tteokbokki.
Woo 🐈⬛ [13:26]: Nice. I know a good place.
Woo 🐈⬛ [13:27]: I’ll head out in a few, so just text me the address.
Right after sending your university’s pin location to Woo, you start to consider the chance of him being some sort of serial stalker. Could he be biding his time, trying to let your guard down and easing personal information out of you so he could do something nefarious when he gets you alone? Fuck. Maybe it’s a good idea you didn’t let him walk you home yesterday…
But despite the very real possibility of Woo being someone with bad intentions regardless of how nice he is, you see no problem in meeting him at the school gates when he arrives with your food. In fact, you don’t even feel apprehensive of him in spite of all the ideas you conjured in your head over the past hour.
Me [14:15]: where are you?
Woo 🐈⬛ [14:16]: Parked by the curb in front of a bookstore. You can’t miss me.
Me [14:16]: i don’t even know what you Look like today, genius
Woo 🐈⬛ [14:17]: I told you, I’ve got my bike with me. I don’t see anyone else looking the same way within a twenty meter radius.
You have to fight the urge to roll your eyes. For someone you deemed as ‘nice’, he can get pretty mouthy if he wants to.
You head to the general direction of the bookstore that Woo was talking about as you try to ignore your growling stomach. Given that the lunch rush is more or less over, the usual crowd of pedestrians has considerably thinned out and it makes it easier for you to scan the vicinity for any bike-wielding impromptu delivery guys.
However, the only person that does stand out to you is some dude wearing a black leather jacket, chilling next to an expensive looking motorcycle as he taps away on his phone with a matching pair of leather gloves and everything. His face is obscured by a black helmet and you would’ve let your gaze go past him had it not been for a sudden realization that hits you right there.
Bike? Like, a bicycle?
Mmm. Close.
“Woo!”
Of course the leather jacket-clad, expensive motorcycle-wielding man looks up at the sound of his name being called from across the street. The visor of his helmet is drawn all the way up and you could see that he isn’t wearing his glasses for good reason. He seems to perk up at the sight of you before grabbing something from the trunk of his motorcycle and jogging to meet you where you stood.
You’ve seen him sporting a spectrum of comfortable outfits during his late night visits, but this is the first time you’ve witnessed Woo looking as dapper as he is now.
“Late lunch delivery?”
You don’t even try to hide the way you roll your eyes as you accept the paper bag he hands to you. “Thanks. How much do I owe you now? You already got me coffee and now lunch.”
He shakes his head and you find it a little ridiculous, considering he’s still wearing that huge helmet of his. “It’s on me. It’s the least I could do to repay you for being so accommodating.”
“Woo, I haven’t done shit for you ‘cause you’re yet to properly talk to me about the adoption process. What on earth are you talking about?”
“But you will do shit for me when we do talk about it. I’m just repaying the favor in advance,” he rebuts cheekily before pulling back the sleeve of his jacket to check for the time. “Though as much as I want to do that now, I need to catch a flight in a few hours.”
That makes your expression morph into disbelief. “You need to catch a what?”
“A flight. Gotta head to Japan for a few days,” Woo tells you nonchalantly, as if heading to Japan for a few days is something people do on a regular basis. “Can you make sure no one else takes Hani home before I can settle everything on my end?”
You tell yourself that you’ve got time to mull over what this guy does for a living some other time. Clearing your throat, you manage an awkward smile. “Um, yeah, sure thing. You’re really attached to her, aren’t you?”
“You can say that again,” he laughs softly. “She kinda reminds me of myself from a long time ago… But anyway, I’ve gotta go. Tell me what you think about the chicken when you’re done with it?”
You nod. “I’ll be as brutally honest with my review as possible.”
“Just the way I like it,” Woo replies, eyes crinkling with amusement.
When you head back to the library, the person you were sharing a table with looked after your stuff for you while you were gone. You thank her profusely before settling back into your seat, grabbing the takeout packages from the paper bag that Woo personally delivered to you.
Before you can start wolfing down the delectable-smelling chicken he brought, however, you notice a cute sticky note plastered on the lid—a doodle of a cat with glasses and a speech bubble that says you can do it~ scribbled on the corner.
Don’t overwork yourself. It’s been ages since my last exam, but I know how hard it can be. Make sure to eat properly so you can absorb all the info you need.
When your head bangs against one of the many wooden tables in the library, the person seated at the far end stares at you with a concerned look. You can’t muster the energy to assure her that everything’s alright, though because…
That quote-unquote crush of yours?
It’s starting to become a little too real.
You’re in the middle of throwing out old files from the back room archive when Mina peeks her head into the doorway and says, “You’ve got a visitor again.”
One glance at the old wall clock hung above the steel cabinets tells you that it’s midnight, but you know for one that this mystery visitor isn’t Woo this time around.
You’ve been keeping in touch with him through Kakao, since you can’t exactly afford to send international text messages to Japan and your new friend(?) has been keeping you posted about his shenanigans for the past week. He hasn’t replied to your last message from over three hours ago and you’re not so delusional to think he got on a plane back to Korea and is suddenly here to surprise you.
When you see who it is, though, your heart warms just a little.
“Why haven’t you been texting me back?” Haewon, your sister who’s two years younger, gets up from the seats lined up across the walls of the lobby. “I missed you!”
You shake your head before pulling her into a hug. “I missed you, she says. But you’re really just looking for someone to show you around the city again, aren’t you?”
“Hey, missing you and needing a chaperone aren’t mutually exclusive,” she huffs and you notice that she’s in full fangirl gear again—a lightstick hanging off a strap slung across her shoulder, a windbreaker with her favorite boyband’s logo sewn on the front pocket, and of course, a photocard of Mingyu dangling from her little handbag.
Despite the fact that she’s also in college, Haewon chose to stay in your hometown in Jeju to pursue her studies there instead. The first few months since you left were the hardest—so unused to not having your little sister go on and on and on about how much she loves SEVENTEEN. But you’ve also come to appreciate the peace and quiet that living alone in Seoul affords you.
Besides, with how much money she’s raised for being one of the more well-known event organizers in her fandom, Haewon can pretty much come visit you in Seoul whenever she feels like it.
“I’m guessing your thirteen boyfriends have a thing going on?” you ask before glancing over at the playroom to make sure there aren’t any kittens left inside.
Haewon nods enthusiastically. “Yup, they’re having a mini fanmeet outside their company building in a few days—”
“In a few days?” you parrot before gesturing for her to follow you in the break room so you can get changed. “What’re you doing out here all dressed up then?”
Your little sister rolls her eyes. “Unnie, I’m not some weirdo who wears their merch on a regular night for no reason. I came from this little cupsleeve event for Wonwoo’s birthday. Things ran a little late because we had to help clean up at the café.”
While you’re not well-versed in fandom jargon, you have learned a few terms from Haewon here and there. Plus, she already took you to a cupsleeve event for another member’s birthday once. You’re not really sure who it was because the only one you do consistently remember is Mingyu—your sister’s ultimate bias, apparently.
“What made you stop by then?” you wonder as you exchanged your work uniform for a loose shirt. “You didn’t tell me you were coming in advance. I could’ve fetched you from the airport.”
“I did tell you in advance.” She pouts. “But you said you were busy working on your manuscript when I did, so it must’ve slipped your mind.”
Oh. Okay, now you feel bad. “Sorry. I’ll make it up to you this weekend with dinner?”
Haewon whines. “Unnie, their fanmeet is on Saturday and I leave on Sunday.”
“So? How long is that going to be anyway?”
“Uh, all day?”
You sigh. “Fine. How about you crash in my place tonight and we can rewatch Hometown Cha Cha Cha while stuffing our faces with ramen?”
“Deal.”
After timing out for the evening, you say goodbye to Mina, who’s just waiting up for your other coworkers who’ll cover the next shift. Haewon talks your ear off about what happened in the event she attended as you both walked back to your apartment and, while only some of the things she’s saying makes sense to you, it’s nice to be in your little sister’s company again.
“Oh, by the way, here.”
You stare at her curiously as she rummages through her bag, handing you a photocard enclosed in a dainty-looking toploader.
“What’s this for?” you ask.
“You told me back then that Wonwoo was your type,” Haewon explains with a grin. “So I did my best in one of the parlor games and won that extremely in-demand photocard just for you.”
You scan the piece of idol merchandise in your hands for a few minutes more—staring at Wonwoo’s face as if waiting for him to speak. You never really understood the appeal of collecting photocards. As long as it makes Haewon happy, you won’t bat an eyelash.
But now she’s giving you one to keep for yourself and the more you stare at the idol printed on the sturdy paper, the more you think that you’ve seen him somewhere.
Then again, Haewon has been talking about these boys since they debuted years ago. The familiarity must’ve stemmed from those numerous fancams and music show performances that she forced you to sit down and watch with her.
“You better take care of him, okay?” Haewon pouts. “If I see him suddenly being sold for a high price, I’m never going to let you live it down.”
“I barely know how the market for this works, so you don’t have to worry about that,” you chuckle before carefully sliding the toploader inside your own bag. “So what ramen are we eating? Shin Ramyun or something else?”
Me [21:17]: btw, when are you coming back again?
Me [21:20]: someone was asking about hani earlier and i feel like you’ve gotta come back here to assert your dominance.
Woo 🐈⬛ [02:35]: Shit, sorry. I forgot about the time.
Woo 🐈⬛ [02:35]: My friends and I had a birthday celebration at the izakaya near our hotel. It’s been a while since we got to unwind like this.
Woo 🐈⬛ [02:36]: Anyway, who’s the funny guy who thought he could have my cat?
Me [02:38]: wow. YOUR cat? 🤨🤨🤨
Woo 🐈⬛ [02:40]: You’re still awake?
Me [02:40]: yeah, my little sister is in seoul and we’re binging our favorite drama
Me [02:41]: how about you? why are You still awake?
Woo 🐈⬛ [02:45]: Taking care of drunk friends. Remember Soonyoung?
Me [02:45]: what about him?
Woo 🐈⬛ [02:47]: Pleading for forgiveness in the toilet while he retches his guts out.
Me [02:47]: huh. some birthday party. who’s the celebrant anyway?
Woo 🐈⬛ [02:47]: Me.
“Whoa. You okay?” Haewon asks when you suddenly lurch forward on the couch, choking on the ramen you were in the middle of slurping.
You thank your sister when she offers you a glass of water and you gulp it down to soothe the burning sensation in your throat. “It’s fine. I just received a surprising text is all.”
“From a boyfriend?” she teases.
You scowl. “No. From a friend. Just a friend.”
“Boo. But you’ll tell me once you land yourself your very own Hong Dusik, right?”
The look on your face only worsens at the reference she’s made to the drama that’s still playing on screen. “I’d actually rather die than have someone like Dusik as a boyfriend. If the whole enemies to lovers thing works with Hyejin, it really won't with me.”
“True, you’ve always been a mellow lover,” Haewon agrees and you roll your eyes. “That’s why Wonwoo would be perfect for you~”
“I think me landing a Hong Dusik-esque boyfriend is more likely than me getting together with a world famous idol but okay.”
You’re momentarily distracted from your conversation when your phone vibrates in your lap again, and— Fuck.
You forgot to reply to Woo.
Woo 🐈⬛ [02:55]: Fell asleep on me already?
Me [02:56]: no, no. sorry. my sister was just talking to me.
Me [02:56]: anyway, it’s your BIRTHDAY?
Woo 🐈⬛ [02:57]: Hahaha, yes. It’s been a while since I could sit down and actually celebrate it with my friends.
Me [02:58]: is that why you went all the way to japan? for a little birthday getaway?
Woo 🐈⬛ [02:58]: Hm… something like that
Me [03:00]: i’ll give you hani’s adoption papers as a gift
Me [03:01]: that or you let ME treat YOU to something nice for a change
Woo 🐈⬛ [03:05]: Well, I’ll be back in Korea this Saturday, but won’t be free until late at night.
Me [03:05]: back to regular programming, huh?
Me [03:06]: we can celebrate later if you’re busy, you know.
Woo 🐈⬛ [03:07]: It’s okay. I wanted to spend time with you anyways.
“You sure that’s just a friend you’re talking to?” Haewon asks with an unimpressed stare as you choke on your instant noodles for the second time. “The only way I’d react like that to a text is if my friend told me one of our professors is fucking his TA despite being married. If that’s the case, you gotta let me in on the juicy details.”
You make a face at her. “Isn’t that way too specific?”
“Isn’t that way too specific?” Haewon mocks. “Whatever you’ve got going on with this friend of yours, promise I’ll be the first to know once you make it official?”
“Haewon!”
For the sake of your own sanity, you only reply to Woo’s message once you’re tucked in bed and Haewon is comfortably dozing on the couch in the living room. She’s a heavy sleeper that passes out quickly after a long day, so you don’t feel particularly worried about your little sister barging into your room when you type out a response.
Me [03:43]: gotcha. just meet me at the shelter after your thing.
Me [03:45]: happy birthday, woo.
You don’t wait for him to type out a reply anymore—eyes drooping into slumber as you let the screen of your phone fade into sleep mode.
Unbeknownst to you, a man who just finished putting his intoxicated friends to bed an ocean away stares at your chat history with a fond smile, heart racing just a few beats faster at the prospect of what awaits him at home.
You’re just about done cleaning up the big dog kennels when Woo drops by on a bright Saturday morning.
The sound of his deep ‘hello’ nearly made you drop all the cleaning utensils you were about to put away. When you turn around to confirm that the shelter’s nighttime regular has indeed switched things up and decided to visit during daylight hours, you’re too busy scowling at him to mind the fact that you’re all gross and sweaty from all the hard labor.
Sure, you texted him about taking up a day shift today, but you definitely didn’t expect him to visit when he just got back to Korea a few hours ago.
Surprisingly, Woo isn’t donned in all black this time around. He’s wearing a gray pullover with some muddled text you can’t quite read with the hood pulled all the way up, concealing the white cap resting on top of his head. Of course, his signature face mask is still in between you and his no doubt handsome countenance, but you’ll take what you can get.
“What’re you doing here?” you ask, a bit breathless before you notice that takeout bag he’s setting down on one of the empty tables. “I thought you’re not gonna be free until tonight.”
“Thought you could use another lunch fix,” he says nonchalantly. “Well that and I wanted to personally give you some cool trinkets from Japan.”
The sentiment makes your heart stir a little, but you end up voicing out a dry laugh before stuffing the shelter’s cleaning paraphernalia inside the broom closet. “Keep doing all these nice things and I’ll start thinking you’re in love with me.”
Woo laughs but does absolutely nothing to deny the allegations.
“Here.” Your brows arch a little when he fishes something from the pocket of his hoodie, handing it to you. “I wasn’t sure which one you’d like so I just got all of them.”
You’re a bit reluctant to receive his gift in your current state—dirty hands, dirty clothes, dirty everything—but Woo doesn’t seem to mind when he drops a small plastic package full of…
“Kitties!” You coo out loud at the assortment of colorful enamel pins inside before gawking at him. “Seriously, Woo, you’re way too nice to me. I’m starting to feel indebted.”
He shakes his head with an adorable laugh. “It’s nothing. I swear. They just reminded me of you when my friends and I passed this one booth at a festival.”
Shit. They reminded him of you?
“So are you finally going to sit down and talk to me about adopting Hani or are you gonna keep skirting around again, mister?” You place a hand on your hip, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction as you tuck his gift safely in the back pocket of your jeans.
“Surprise, I actually came here to do just that. I still have an hour free before I have to go to work,” Woo admits and him mentioning work taps in on your innate curiosity about what he does for a living. “But your coworker said something about rounding up the dogs and putting them back in the kennel?”
Oh. Shit.
As if on cue, Mina—along with a few on shift volunteers—emerge down the hall, all of their hands gripping several leashes as an army of dogs fills the hallway with excited and agitated barking alike.
“Are we good to go?” Mina yells over the noise.
Trying not to look too disappointed that your time with Woo has been cut short, you give Mina a thumbs up before striding off to meet them halfway. You take it upon yourself to take a few of the dogs off one of the volunteers’ hands and he looks at you with withering relief when you do.
“Yep. Everything’s as fresh as a daisy now,” you inform them. “Hope these guys didn’t make too big of a mess up in the front though. That would mean Kino’s turn for cleaning duty came a little early.”
“Hey!” The volunteer in question complains. “I’ve got a date later, noona. Don’t go saying weird stuff like that.”
You’re just about to tease him a little more but you suddenly feel the force of a couple of former strays tugging you forward disappear. That’s when you notice that Woo made his way to your side, guiding the dogs silently as he helps lead the first of them to the kennel.
“Oh, you don’t have to,” you insist but your friend(?) merely shakes his head.
“It’s no big deal,” Woo reassures.
It doesn’t help that this particular hallway is a little cramped. You’re practically standing arm to arm as you all make it to the end. You can practically smell the expensive cologne wafting from his clothes amidst the scent of dog fur that’s starting to permeate the air. When Woo lets out another soft laugh when one of the dogs he has on a leash licks his hand, you know it’s over for you.
It takes about half an hour to settle all fifteen big dogs into their respective cages and by the time it’s over, you’re convinced that you need a shower now more than ever. As Mina and the rest of the volunteers head back to the reception room, you decide to take a break and help yourself to the takeout that Woo personally delivered yet again.
“Thanks for your help. Cleaning day is really one of the toughest days of the month. Especially when we have to clean up the big dog kennels,” you sigh before plopping into an empty seat in the break room.
“Don’t mention it,” he says and you find yourself imagining a smile behind his mask yet again. “I actually have a dog at home, too, so I would now. But she’s definitely more tame than these guys.”
That makes you pause. “Is that why you’re beating around the bush so much about adopting Hani? You think she won’t get along with your dog?”
He hums a little before stuffing his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “That’s one of the reasons, yes.”
“Well, you won’t know unless you try,” you huff as you unseal the takeout package—the delectable scent of yangnyeom chicken pervading your senses. “Anyway, you’re going to sign the papers this time, right? Right?”
You have a feeling that you’ve finally got him cornered, but before Woo can even formulate a response, a ringtone that definitely isn’t yours starts going off inside the break room.
Your friend(????) answers it with a wistful sigh.
It’s so quiet that you can vaguely make out the voice at the other end of the line saying, “Hyung. Everyone’s looking for you. Where are you?”
You try not to stare at Woo as he takes the call out of pure decency—distracting yourself with your food. But you can’t help but listen in when their conversation is the only thing you can hear at the moment.
“Yeah, I’ll be there soon. Tell everyone I’m sorry for the hold up, Mingyu.”
The moment that name leaves Woo’s mouth, you freeze mid-chew. Did he say Mingyu? Like…the idol that Haewon is downright obsessed with? No… It was probably just someone with the same name. It is pretty common, after all.
When he ends the call, you flash him a tight-lipped smile that manages to conceal your momentary surprise. “Rain check?”
“Rain check,” Woo sighs in agreement.
You nod. “It’s okay. The more you keep delaying Hani’s adoption, the more presents I get from you.”
“And you’re absolutely right about that,” he humors you before reaching out to ruffle your hair. You haven’t even recovered from that little gesture he just did when he asks, “Hope our plans for later are still up though?”
Woo must’ve caught the look on your face with the way he retracts the hand that was just on top of your head to snicker into his palm. “Don’t tell me you forgot. We were supposed to celebrate my birthday, remember?”
Curse you and your habit of making plans at ass o’clock in the morning. You always forget them!
“Uh, it kinda slipped my mind?” you admit sheepishly as you pick at your food. “I ended up going for a day shift ‘cause I have to see my sister off at the airport tomorrow.”
He nods in earnest and it kind of makes you feel bad about your short term memory. “It’s alright. I’ll just drop by some other time to get the paperwork over with. I’ve disturbed you enough as it is.”
“No, it’s fine!”
Your sudden outburst makes Woo look up at you with a confused stare. “Hm?”
“I-I can still meet up with you later,” you stammer and you have to force yourself not to bury your face in your hands out of sheer embarrassment. Pull yourself together, damn. “If you’re not too tired from your plans for the day, of course.”
He mentioned something about having to go to work, and while you can’t imagine what sort of work has to be urgently done on a Saturday, you’ll still respect his time.
Woo blinks for a few seconds, as if still digesting what you just said before his eyes disappear behind his glasses with a soft chuckle. Your brows cinch together, not getting what’s so funny.
“Noted. I’ll come pick you up here later, still? If you’re not comfortable with sharing your address with me yet.”
He’s so thoughtful, you might actually give him all your personal details at this point. But at the end of the day you’re actually a person with a head full of common sense, so you answer him with, “Sure thing. Thanks for going out of your way to come hang out despite how busy you are.”
“No, thank you for always putting up with me,” Woo insists with a shake of his head. “I swear I’m not hassling you with this whole adoption thing on purpose. There’s just…a lot of things to consider on my end. I hope you understand.”
You wave away his concerns with a laugh. “Just keep getting me more of this chicken and we’ll call it quits.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal.”
When Woo sees himself out of the break room, you fumble for the plastic package in the back of your jeans—taking one of the adorable black cat enamels before pinning it in the front pocket of your uniform. You can’t help the smile that creeps up your face when you see your reflection on the small mirror sitting on the table.
How could you be this down bad for someone whose entire face you’ve never even seen before?
Haewon 🪷 [17:20]: Are you suuure you don’t wanna come to the fan meet?
Haewon 🪷 [17:21]: I’ve still got a few extra passes :3c you’d get to see wonwoo in the flesh!
Me [17:30]: why do you want to set me up with wonwoo so badly
Haewon 🪷 [17:31]: Bc we’re sisters? And it’d be cool if we stanned MinWon together?
Me [17:32]: …not even gonna ask you to elaborate on that
Haewon 🪷 [18:00]: Unnie ㅠㅠ
Me [18:00]: why? what’s wrong, hae?
Haewon 🪷[ 18:05]: Mingyu looks sooooo much better than I remember
Haewon 🪷[18:06]: The girlfriend allegations must be true
Haewon 🪷 [18:06]: Only a man in love can smile like that!
Me [18:07]: or: a man who relies on fanservice to get paid?
Haewon 🪷[ 18:08]: RUDE!!!!
Haewon 🪷 [18:08]: Here’s a pic of Wonwoo to shut you up
Haewon 🪷 [18:09]: [Sent an attachment]
Me [18:10]: idk if i should find the fact that you think some kpop guy affects me in any capacity amusing or concerning
Haewon 🪷 [18:11]: !!!! Take that back wtf?? Wonwoo isn’t just ‘some kpop guy’?????
Me [18:10]: sure he isn’t.
Haewon 🪷 [19:45]: Good news!!
Me [19:45]: you’re finally going to get off my back about the whole wonwoo thing?
Haewon 🪷 [19:46]: No ^_^ My Monday final got canceled so I can stay in Seoul for a day more!
Haewon 🪷 [19:46]: Aka you don’t have to wake up early to drag your ass to the airport w me
Me [19:47]: oh. that’s cool. what’re your plans for tomorrow then?
Haewon 🪷 [19:48]: Gonna attend the pre-recording for a music show :3
Me [19:50]: …Haewon i swear to god if you ask me to do what you’re about to ask me to do
Haewon 🪷 [19:50]: Come with me pretty pleaaaase?
Haewon 🪷 [19:51]: I’m using my adorable dongsaeng powers to get you to agree
Me [19:55]: there’s no talking my way out of this, is there?
Haewon 🪷 [19:55]: Nope <3
Me [19:56]: fine. just text me the details. i need to go out soon.
Haewon 🪷 [19:56]: HEHE have fun !!
You weren’t lying when you texted Haewon that you had to go out soon. You agreed that you’d meet up with Woo for his post-birthday celebration at 9 P.M. Hell, you even called a local bakery to have a personalized cake made for pick-up before you head over to the rendezvous point. Everything was already set right from the start.
But then you ended up falling asleep while scrolling through Twitter and now the clock reads 10:45 P.M., and you’re rushing to pull on a ratty sweater instead of the cute outfit you planned for the night as you rush out of your apartment.
Me [10:47]: FUCK IM SORRY
Me [10:47]: i was SUPPOSED to take a five minute nap but i didn’t realize how tired i was
Me [10:48]: are you still up to hang out? i totally get it if not though.
You immediately stuff your phone in the pocket of your jeans—not even bothering to glance at Woo’s reply when it vibrates with a text notification. Your conscience is much too guild-ridden to read any sort of reassurance he’d undoubtedly give to you despite how long you’ve made him wait.
Two hours, jeez. You’d be furious if someone was that late on you.
When you arrive at the shelter after doing a couple of quick detours, you’re panting like you just won first place in a marathon. Needless to say, it’s a pitiful sight to behold when Woo is leaning across his motorcycle—looking much too attractive in that stupid leather jacket of his.
“Is this what the kids call fashionably late these days?” he chuckles.
If you weren’t so apologetic, you would’ve rolled your eyes so instead, you give him a crumpled paper bag with a smile that borders on overcompensating.
“Happy birthday?”
Woo looks like he was just about to say something until a quiet mewl interrupts him midway. You gaze at him with a puzzled look until he stifles a soft laugh, pulling the lapel of his jacket open to reveal—
“Hani?” You scowl.
The black kitten is tucked away snugly in the inner pocket of Woo’s jacket—nearly blending in with the leather. It’s almost as if two pairs of big yellow eyes are staring at you from a void.
“Finally got the papers over with when you fell asleep on me,” Woo chuckles before scratching behind her ears. “So I guess it wasn’t so bad that you made me wait for two hours.”
“Hey, I said I was sorry!”
“Yes, and I heard you,” he insists before peering inside the paper bag you gave him. “What’s this?”
“No peeking until we get to your good old thinking spot,” you scold, smacking his hand away.
A hand that you just noticed is also clad in a leather glove.
He shakes his head playfully before putting his arms up in surrender. “For someone who’s two hours late, you’re pretty demanding.”
“Woo!”
During his last few days in Japan, Woo told you about his favorite thinking spot that’s specifically located beneath Hannam Bridge. There’s an old watchtower that was built before the bridge even existed. I go there when I want to clear my head.
When he said he wanted to bring you there for his belated birthday bash, the ghastly possibility of him turning out to be a serial killer luring you to your doom crossed your mind for half a second before you ended up agreeing anyway.
Now here you are, drowning in the musk of his cologne as you press your cheek against the fabric of his jacket. He’s definitely going past the speed limit with how sharply the wind sings in your ears, but instead of complaining about it, you tighten your arms around his torso—letting the warmth of his body seep into yours.
“It’s not so scary if you don’t think about it too much,” you hear him shout from the front. “Look to your right! This is why I’ve always liked doing late night rides!”
Easy for him to say. He’s brave enough to harbor a kitten inside his jacket and a person who’s never ridden a motorcycle before at a hundred kilometers per hour! But despite how terrified you are of falling off his bike, you do as he says anyways.
When you tilt your gaze in the direction of the Han River, you’re immediately greeted by the dazzling lights that glimmer across the water. You haven’t been to the districts on the other side of the river, but you think you’re content with getting to see them from afar.
With the roar of an engine ringing in your ears. With the summer evening breeze whipping past your face.
With your arms around someone who’s slowly but surely leaving his mark in your life.
“Are you sure this is legal?”
Your companion glances behind him as he makes his way to the aforementioned watch tower—a knapsack full of god-knows-what slung around his shoulder while he carries the paper bag with your “gift” in his free hand. “I’ve never seen a single ‘No Trespassing' sign since I’ve started going here ages ago, so probably.”
“Probably?” you parrot and Hani, who you’ve deigned to carry in your arms after that grueling motorcycle ride, meows as if she’s just as incredulous as you are. “So it’s still possible for us to get arrested?”
“Yeah, but what’s life without a little risk?”
Unbelievable.
Yet, despite the common sense you were oh-so proud of this morning, you still follow him up the winding steps of the watchtower, which is hardly even a watchtower given that it’s a few meters beneath the widest bridge in the city. Woo wasn’t lying about his strange description of it after all.
“Well, here we are,” he announces when the two of you reach the platform on the very top. The edges are lined with metal rails that are beginning to rust with age, but seem sturdy enough to grant you some sense of security—no matter how sparse. “I’ll just set this up. You can go enjoy the view if you want.”
Woo doesn’t even let you get a word in before he unzips his bag and brings out a checkered picnic blanket. He gently lays it across the dusty concrete, smoothing out the fabric before fishing some more stuff inside his gym-bag-turned-picnic-basket. You keep yourself from making any snide comments about his choice of venue because despite the unorthodox location, you actually get why he’d find it peaceful here.
It’s far enough from the freeway that the sound of vehicles rushing through the night can barely reach your ears. If you listen closely enough, you can even hear the water flowing below much more clearly. You close your eyes to get a better feel of the place—imagining a six-foot something guy leaning across the rusty railings as he watches the city lights sparkle across the Han River.
“There we go.”
You startle when you feel Woo’s warm, leather-clad hand on your shoulder—prompting you to turn around and see his handiwork. In the middle of the picnic blanket is something that looks suspiciously like a portable emergency light. How he got his hands on something like that, you’re not entirely sure, so you decide to focus on the other details instead.
Like the two unopened bottles of soju right next to a take-out package of your favorite yangnyeom chicken.
“Didn’t we agree that I was treating you to something this time around?” you grumble as you absentmindedly stroke Hani’s fur.
“We did, but then you overslept and—”
“Okay, fine! Point taken!”
Woo snickers as he hands you the paper bag you brought for the trip. It looks even worse than it was when you ran all the way to the shelter and you can only hope the package inside isn’t completely ruined.
You decide to let Hani down inside the gym bag that Woo left unzipped. Surprisingly, the newly adopted kitten makes a home out of it quickly—curling up into a ball as her tail swishes every now and again. Cute.
“Don’t judge, okay?” You breathe out nervously as you take the plastic container out of the bag. “I had a legit cake custom-made and everything but…yeah. Overslept.”
When Woo doesn’t respond a second too long, your gaze nervously rivets to his face to parse for a reaction. Was he disappointed? Should you have gotten a different design?
The moment you see the dazzled look in his eyes, however, you realize that isn’t the case.
He receives the little cupcake with open arms when you give it to him. It’s chocolate topped with bad fondant icing art, but you didn’t really have a choice. When you spotted it in the convenience store earlier, you grabbed the one that looked most like a kitten and dipped. It’s nice to know that he might actually like it after all.
“Oh and uh, sorry, but I couldn’t bring any candles for you to blow,” you add sheepishly. “You can just make a wish and pretend.”
Woo’s gaze drifts to you for a moment before his eyes crinkle with laughter. “I don’t really have to do that though. My wish has already come true.”
Huh?
To your chagrin, he doesn’t elaborate. Instead, Woo invites you to sit on the picnic blanket—carefully removing his boots so he wouldn’t track dirt all over the food and you follow suit.
You fill the silence with your goings-on for the rest of the day and how exactly you ended up dozing off and he’s kind enough to listen to every word. However, when you ask if he wants to do a toast, he shakes his head.
“I need to drive you back, remember?”
You shoot him a dirty look. “So you took me all the way out here just so I can have two bottles of soju all to myself while you sit there and listen to me talk about my day?”
“...Yes?”
Men are so fucking infuriating sometimes, you can hardly believe it.
“Nope.” You firmly shake your head—plucking the bottle opener he set down on the blanket to pop the caps off. “You’re drinking with me. Just quit driving past the speed limit so we won’t die in a freak accident.”
You immediately notice the stiffness in his shoulders as you shove the bottle of soju in his hands and part of you feels kind of bad for being pushy. For a moment, you allow yourself to scrutinize him for a bit longer. What could possibly be deterring him from drinking after going out of his way to do all this?
That’s when you realize he still has his mask on.
Does he…have issues about people seeing his face?
That would definitely explain why he hasn’t once taken it off in all the times you’ve met him so far. With that in mind, you promptly decide to tell him that okay, he doesn’t have to if he really doesn’t want to, but then Woo is already reaching up to peel the blasted face mask off.
Your chest seizes with panic, hands flying in front of you to keep him from doing something against his will. But the effort is futile because it only takes a second for him to remove and…
Fuck.
Cue the choir of angels because goddamn does this man look like heaven.
Woo shifts somewhat uncomfortably under your stare, as if he’s waiting for you to blow up all over his face or something. But you’re much too mesmerized by too many things to form any sort of response right away.
The sharp cut of his jaw. The gentle curve of his Cupid’s bow. The tinge of red spreading across his cheeks.
“I can’t believe you’ve been gatekeeping yourself from me all this time,” you whisper with a strained laugh—purposely peeling your gaze away for the sake of your own sanity. “I knew you were hot, but…God. I hate you.”
“You…don’t recognize me?”
The question brings you out of your feelings for a moment, making you glance at him with a questioning stare. “Am I supposed to?”
Woo gapes at the question like he didn’t expect that to be your response before shaking his head vigorously.
“N-No. Anyway, you said I was hot but you hate me?”
You narrow your eyes at him before taking your first swig of soju. “Don’t start getting all cocky with me, mister! I’ve got eyes and I can’t help that you’re objectively attractive. Just stating facts here.”
When Woo smiles for the first time without the figurative cockblock that is his signature black face mask and honestly? If you died right now, you’d die happily.
The night presses on in a haze of soju, spicy chicken, and the occasional visit from Hani who uses either of your laps as her personal bed for about five minutes before switching to the other person.
This is the longest you’ve been with Woo and you’re starting to realize that he isn’t much of a talker, which you completely understand. You can’t imagine someone who’s hell-bent on keeping what he looks like a secret for so long being a chatterbox.
“Oh, but you mentioned something to me at the shelter one time,” you pipe up before scooping a forkful of chicken into your mouth.
“Yeah? What is it?” Woo asks softly as he pets Hani’s back.
Feeling just a little bit tipsy from the alcohol, you try not to stare too hard at his handsome face or the way his lip curls at the edges with a tiny smile when Hani purrs from his touch.
“You said Hani reminded you of yourself from before,” you whisper as your gaze drifts to his leather-gloved hands. “Is it okay to ask what you meant by that?”
The sound of the river flowing beneath the watchtower fills your ears as you bask in the silence. It’s a pretty personal question. You’d totally get it if he decides not to answer, but you’re much too curious to keep yourself from asking.
“Well, I wasn’t a stray or anything, but there was a time in my life that I felt so…aimless. I lost someone near and dear to me, and I didn’t know how to deal with it for a very long time.”
Hearing the earnest ring of Woo’s voice, you force yourself to snap out of your subtle inebriation—scooting a little bit closer to him on the blanket to make sure you catch every word.
“I didn’t get into a life-threatening accident like this one did either, but…” He trails off for a moment, stroking the scar that you know runs along Hani’s sternum but has long healed with his fingers.
“I managed to get back on track when the people around me showed me their support. They didn’t leave even if all I wanted was to be left alone. If it weren’t for them, it might’ve taken me even longer to move past what happened. Worse, I might not have moved past it at all.
“When I saw Hani that day, she looked scared of all the other cats. Like she wasn’t ready to let anyone get close to her just yet.” Woo breathes deeply before taking a small sip from his bottle. “I guess I was the same way, too. Healing isn’t linear. Sometimes, when I think I’m all better, one day, I just spiral back to where I started in the next one. That’s…kind of where you fit into the picture, actually.”
The brief pause in his story makes you blink at him, surprised. “Me?”
He nods. “You used to feed the strays in your neighborhood, right? You even had a schedule and everything.”
“That was months ago,” you mutter. “You mean you already knew me back then? Because of that?”
“I…actually live in that area, too.” He clears his throat, that familiar blush settling across his cheeks once again. “I often saw you feeding the strays because that’s usually the time I got back from the cemetery. One day, things got a bit too much and I kind of…broke down in the park instead of just doing that at home.”
He says it like he’s embarrassed and now that he mentioned it, you vaguely remember consoling a stranger during your days before volunteering at the shelter. You don’t recall much of it though—just the memory of awkwardly patting his back before sending him off feeling just a bit better because you saw him smile a little.
Other than that, you’re drawing blanks.
“How exactly did I help you, though? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“I wouldn’t say you helped me or anything, but…” Woo pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose while slyly avoiding your eyes. “I distinctly remember you saying something like—”
Hey, it’s just a bad day. Or a bad week. Or a bad month. I don’t know. But it’s not a bad life. It’ll get better soon. I promise.
Fuck. Maybe you do remember.
“It didn’t really mean much to me at the time. Honestly, it kind of pissed me off at first,” Woo admits with a guilty chuckle before taking another sip. “But you were right. Sometimes, things got worse. Other times, it got better. But one day, I realized that I got to a point where it doesn’t hurt as much anymore.
“I’m not usually this open about my problems, but I learned overtime that talking about them makes them less taxing to deal with. Almost like I’m just talking about the weather, you know?” He smiles softly and you swear your heart melts at the sight of it. “And…I also don’t want to be closed off from others anymore. Back then, I mostly just kept everything to myself—bottling it all up until it was just unbearable.”
“Now you’re here spilling your guts out to some random college senior,” you snicker before taking another swig of your soju. You pout when you realize the bottle’s all empty before placing it back on the picnic blanket. “That’s some character development.”
“It really is.”
The silence sets once more and your eyes wander off to the city so close yet so far away. The lights from the skyscrapers glimmer like stars across the calm waters of the Han River and you like to think it compensates for the fact that the sky is blocked out by the bridge stretched far and wide above you.
This isn’t how you imagined your first stargazing date would be like, but it’s a good start.
Although, the moment the idea crosses your mind, you’re quick to jolt at your own thoughts.
This isn’t a date. You’re just celebrating his birthday together. Alone. On a picnic blanket. With one of the loveliest sceneries you’ve laid your eyes on. In a place where he claims that he never once showed to anyone else.
“Hey, is this—”
Your breath hitches in your throat when you turn to look at Woo—only to find his face mere inches from yours.
“What?” he whispers and despite the fact that you’re wearing a sweater, you feel goosebumps rise across the skin of your shoulders.
“Uh.” Fuck. “Is this a date?”
His mouth curves into a smile that you can’t quite get a read on. “It can be what you want it to be.”
“Okay,” you breathe out, suddenly feeling hot all over as his eyes flicker to your lips. “Just so you know, I don’t kiss on the first date.”
When Woo laughs again, it’s a deep-seated noise that makes your insides tingle with an indescribable feeling. You don’t really want to give it a name.
“Okay,” he repeats before pressing his forehead against yours. “We can have our first date next time then.”
Of course the sly fucker dives in for a kiss anyway.
“H-Hey,” you whisper in between, trying not to get too distracted with how plump his lips are as you keep holding him still by his broad shoulders. “You’re going to end up crushing Hani if you d-don’t cut it out!”
Woo sighs against your lips before pulling away regretfully. For a moment, he stares at the sleepy kitten on his lap, gazing around cluelessly after being roused from slumber. His expression softens for a moment as he scoops her up with both hands, settling her down in the comfort of his gym bag. She lets out a satisfied mewl before curling into a ball once more.
“Better?”
You’re not sure if he’s asking you or the cat, but…
“Better,” you whisper before fisting the lapels of his jacket and crushing your lips with his.
You don’t know where you’re pulling all this pent-up frustration from. During the very brief period that you’ve gotten closer to Woo, your general opinion about him never really deviated from he’s cute and he’s hot. Nothing more, nothing less.
Yet here you are, gasping into his mouth as he flattens his tongue against yours. A strong arm hooks around your waist, pressing your bodies infinitesimally closer and your skin is slowly hitting a fever pitch beneath your clothes. Something wild and all-consuming burns in your veins and you channel it into a moan that makes his grip on you grow tighter.
You don’t know how exactly you wound up on top of his lap—knees planted on either side of his hips as he continues devouring you with no intention of leaving anything behind. You can feel the expensive material of his leather gloves when his fingers graze along the hem of your sweater. Your skin tingles like every nerve ending has been set alight and if you weren’t already rendered dizzy by his intoxicating cologne, you’re in for a ride with each second his touch hikes further up your torso.
Woo sighs against your lips before pulling away momentarily—eyes aflame before he removes his fogged up glasses with one hand, tossing them somewhat carelessly on the picnic blanket.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Why was that so hot?
You’re too stunned to even draw a breath as he stares you down without the constant partition of his glasses. Has his gaze always been this sharp? Have those eyes always been transfixed on you?
“This…This wasn’t part of the plan, if you’re wondering.” Woo croons out the words huskily. Like an afterthought he only considered out of concern for you. Cute. “I swear I didn’t have any ulterior motives when—”
You giggle, before pressing a kiss on his nose. Woo’s eyes widen just a fraction.
“What made you cave then?”
The way his Adam’s apple bobs has no right to be that alluring, but it pulls you in anyway. “You looked really cute tonight.”
“Is that all?”
“Um, I thought it was sweet that you still got me a cupcake after you overslept?”
You groan, forehead bumping into the crook of his neck. Jesus Christ, he smells so fucking good. “How long are you going to hold that over my head for?”
You feel the vibrations of his laughter humming against your connected chests and your heart swells as Woo wraps his arms around your frame—pulling you into a firm embrace as the heat that engulfed the both of you slowly simmered into the cool evening air. You can feel him tracing idle shapes along your shoulder blades and the small of your back, and it does nothing to keep you from melting into his touch.
It’s so strange how easily you gave into him. You’ve formally known Woo for about three months and became legitimate friends(?) for less than three weeks. If you told Haewon about this whirlwind romance of yours, she’d hit you upside the head and tell you you’re being way too hasty for a man.
But if it’s a man with a black kitten taking a nap in his gym bag while he kisses you senseless underneath one of Seoul’s busiest freeways, you suppose you can make an exception.
“We should go,” Woo murmurs softly. “You’ve still got to accompany your sister to the airport right?”
“Mmm. Nope. She’s staying a day longer,” you inform him with the same quiet tone, letting your fingers trail up to his hair so you can toy with the strands in your fingertips. “But I do have some more edits to get over with in my final manuscript, so…yeah. We should go.”
Despite wanting nothing but to stay there in Woo’s little safe haven, the two of you manage to miraculously peel yourselves away from each other. Your face is hot the entire time you helped clean up his little picnic setup. When he shuts off the portable emergency light, you squint as you parse your way through the darkness.
You kind of end up tripping on air like a complete idiot, but before you can tumble off the rails and into the river, Woo catches you by the waist—not so different from how he held you ten minutes prior.
“Careful,” he mutters as he lets you go and you can’t help but silently mourn the loss of his touch again. “I don’t want to be accused of being a murderer.”
You snicker as he gently scoops Hani out of the gym bag and back into the spacious compartment in the lapel of his leather jacket. For a sleepy kitten, she’s surprisingly compliant. “I actually thought all this time you were some sort of serial killer trying to lure me to my doom.”
“You thought that but you came with me anyway?”
“Why not? You’re hot.”
That night, you let Woo drive you back home now that he’s more or less beaten the serial killer allegations. You tell him that he doesn’t have to walk you to your apartment, but he insists—saying that he can afford to leave Hani on his bike for a few minutes.
Of course, it ends up with another heated makeout session against your front door. This time, those stupid leather-clad fingers hike high enough on your back to toy with the clasp of your bra while his other hand remains tangled in your hair to pull you impossibly closer.
“I have to go,” he rasps before swiping his tongue along his bottom lip—giving you a sudden itch to sink your teeth into it. “But you’re making it really hard to leave.”
He’s making it really hard to tell him to go home, too, but as much as you want to kiss the night away, you still have some of your wits about you.
You chuckle as you reluctantly extract his wandering hands away from your body. Woo sighs in surrender with a nearly inaudible laugh.
“You already bent my I don’t kiss on the first date rule, genius,” you remind him breathlessly. “Don’t push your luck just yet until we’ve had that so-called first date next time.”
He grins. “So there’s going to be a next time?”
Deciding to keep him on his toes, you bat your eyelashes coquettishly at him. “Only if you want to.”
Woo leans in to press his lips against the corner of your mouth—trying his best to suppress the grin on his face.
“I’ll hold you to it then.”
Despite having lived in Seoul for four years and having a hardcore fangirl for a sister, today’s the first time you’ll be attending the pre-recording session for a music show.
Needless to say, you feel like an outsider amongst the fans armed with all sorts of idol merchandise and dressed in the prettiest outfits. Haewon managed to mooch a lightstick off one of her friends for you to use, but despite the fact that you know not a single soul would give two shits about you here, the alienating sensation remains.
“Hey, don’t be too nervous,” your little sister chortles as the marshals usher the crowd into the studio. “All you gotta do is wave that lightstick to the beat. You’ll blend right in, I promise.”
You crack her a nervous smile. Oh, the things you do to make Haewon happy.
It’s a little bit of a blur from there. You squeeze past the throng of fans while simultaneously trying not to lose your sister in the crowd. Some of the staff are handing out photocards that you hear are exclusively given away at this specific broadcast and were worth hundreds of thousands of won. You’re not sure which member Haewon got for you, but knowing your little sister, she must’ve snagged one of Wonwoo’s.
When the two of you are settled in your seats, you take the time to admire the set. You never imagined idol music show stages being this massive in person. In fact, you never really spared an active thought about them. Most of the info you do know about these kinds of things are secondhand accounts from Haewon from all the times she’s been to several broadcasting studios across the city.
“Did you bring the PC I got you last time?” she asks before taking out the broadcast ones out of their plastic package.
You shake your head. “Sorry. That Wonwoo’s sitting in a different bag.”
“Well, at least you haven’t sold him,” your little sister laughs before handing you one of the cards in her hands. “I told the staff to give us Mingyu and Wonwoo, but they gave me Hoshi and Wonwoo. It’s okay though, ‘cause Hoshi’s my bias wrecker anyway.”
Ah. More fandom jargon that you’re just now hearing about.
Just as the staff is starting to do the final preparations on stage, you decide to check out the broadcast PC that Haewon just gave to you. When your eyes land on Wonwoo’s face, however, you suddenly feel your blood freeze in your veins.
You…don’t recognize me?
One of the staff members announces that the boys will be out shortly to begin the pre-recording session but the words are all but muted in your ears.
Because how the hell can you focus on anything else when the face of the man who drove you back home last night—the man who kissed you until you were lightheaded—is plastered on a photocard that could be exchanged for an entire fortune?
This can’t be right, you muse with a scowl—fishing your phone out of your bag as your trembling fingers make haste to open your messaging app. He can’t be the same guy.
Woo 🐈⬛ [09:35]: Good morning, I hope you got enough rest!
Woo 🐈⬛ [09:36]: I have a schedule later this morning so I might be MIA
Me [09:40]: it’s cool. i just woke up actually hahaha
Me [09:40]: i also don’t mind! i’m heading out with my sister in a while too
Me [09:41]: have fun at work(?)
Woo 🐈⬛ [09:45]: Haha I will :) Have fun with your sister!
With a deep breath, you lock your phone just as the lights start to dim and the crowd cheers their hearts out. Haewon urges you to turn on your lightstick and the part of the studio that’s filled to the brim with an audience is lit up with hundreds of dazzling lights.
You would’ve appreciated the sight if only a certain someone didn’t play you for a fucking fool.
Just as promised, the boys that your little sister has been crazy about since their debut all fill the stage gradually. Some of them greet the fans with wide grins and silly little gestures. The others are a little more reserved with their greetings—all shy smiles and reserved movements.
Like Wonwoo, for example.
After several years of only knowing Mingyu thanks to Haewon, this is the first time you were able to pick out another one of them on stage with ease. Why wouldn’t you be able to recognize him?
He had you pressed up against your front door only a few hours ago.
It all made sense now. The affinity for keeping a face mask on. The late night visits. The fact that he seems to make an exorbitant amount of money from a job he doesn’t want to disclose.
Woo is Wonwoo from SEVENTEEN.
And he somehow forgot to let you know over the course of your time together.
You try to keep down the frustration that burns in your throat, making you feel like the roof of your mouth is stuffed with cotton. It’s much easier to mask your feelings once the performers all get into position and the music starts. The loud beat blaring from the speakers coupled with the well-practiced fanchants from the audience easily overpower the sound of your hitched breathing. Even Haewon was too engrossed with the performance to notice your distress.
Still, there’s not much you can do about it now. Especially when Wonwoo’s the one who starts up the first verse of their newest song.
He looks so…different from the gentle giant you’ve come to know over the past few weeks. There’s a dangerous look in his eyes that you know is all for show, but it makes your spine tingle at the sight of it nonetheless. The words to the song are raspily sung into the mic and if you weren’t convinced that he and Woo aren’t the same person, you most certainly are now.
After all, it’s his fucking voice that got you so down bad in the first place.
Once his part is done, Wonwoo quickly heads over to the next formation—a complete professional by heart. He belts out each dance move with such perfect precision and you wouldn’t expect any less from an idol who’s spent years honing his talents. But despite how awe-struck you are to see this side of him in person, it just wasn’t enough to completely erase the feeling that you’ve been betrayed.
It stings even more when the song ends and the studio is filled with deafening screams from the audience yet again. For once, Wonwoo’s stoic expression cracks with a handsome grin as he and the rest of his bandmates huddle together and exchange high fives.
That person on stage is both the man you caught feelings for and a stranger at the same time. He easily smiles at the fans the same way he would smile at you, but the difference between Woo and Wonwoo is that only one of them is willing to show this part of his life to the rest of the world.
Did he not trust you enough? Did he think you’d act like some crazy fan if he told you the truth?
You love Haewon. You love your little sister more than anything in the world, but you can’t pretend that things are okay when the man who kept you in the dark is standing right in front of you, clueless of the revelation that occurred to you just now.
“Where are you going?” Haewon calls out when you make your way out of the rows of seats—earning yourself a collection of glares from the other fans in the vicinity. “Unnie, hey!”
The last thing you want to do is ditch her for something you promised you’d see through until the end but you’re just so fucking done. You don’t want to see Wonwoo right now. Or hear him and his stupidly perfect voice through the studio’s sound system.
Right now, you just…want to be alone.
About two weeks after you stormed out of the first and last music show pre-recording you’ll ever attend in your life, things have more or less mellowed out. Sort of.
You’ve been taking fewer and fewer shifts at the shelter as graduation draws ever-so near. But aside from wanting to focus on getting your academic backlogs over with, you also wanted to stay away from the one place that Woo—or should you say Wonwoo—can easily find you and subsequently corner you to talk. Because you don’t want to talk to someone who’s basically been lying to your face the entire time you’ve been friends.
Well, you suppose if you really don’t want to hear even a peep out of him, you should’ve blocked his number altogether. But that’s not really the case.
Your phone buzzes while you’re in the middle of signing off adoption papers to a couple who wanted to adopt one of the shelter cats. You thought it was pretty adorable of them to make that decision since having a pet together is almost as good as having a kid together after all.
Thinking it was from your adviser, you snuck a glance towards the notifications in your homescreen. But when you see a familiar emoji plastered on the sender’s nickname, you’re quick to put it face down on the wooden desk.
Woo 🐈⬛ [09:35]: Good morning. Are you at the shelter today? Can I speak to you?
How he has it in him to keep texting you as if you haven’t given him nothing but radio silence for the past two weeks, you’re not sure. Wonwoo must’ve sensed that something was amiss the moment you stopped replying to him altogether, but he never tried to pester you about what was wrong. Instead, he simply continued sending all those messages to check in on you despite the fact that it’s almost as if he’s talking to a wall.
Well, it’s not like you have time to entertain him now anyways.
“Are you sure she doesn’t have a name yet?” One of your clients—the boyfriend—asks as he smooths down his newly adopted Maine Coon’s fur.
The girlfriend rolls her eyes. “You heard the nice shelter lady, Vern. This one just wouldn’t respond to any name they tried to give her.”
You agree with a half-hearted laugh, trying your best to ignore the guilt that’s perpetually swelling in your heart the longer you ignore Wonwoo’s pleas. “Yup. Our director said she’s got a bit of an attitude, but I think she just has high standards.”
Vern the Boyfriend makes a funny face at that. “So you’re saying that she doesn’t like the names she’s been given so far?”
“Mhmm. We tried Cupcake, Winter, Princess, and Lily, but she liked none of those. Try naming her something fancy. ”
“Chairman Meow?”
“Vern.”
“What? You gotta admit it’s funny, Sohee.”
Sohee the Girlfriend rolls her eyes. “Yes, but it’s an overused pun now! Think of something else.”
“Hmm. How about…Milana?”
“Is that because Seokmin wouldn’t shut up about his trip to Milan?”
“Ugh, yeah. Two months later and he still won’t stop talking about—”
“The gorgonzola he had for dinner the night before he flew back to Korea. I know. You won’t stop talking about it either.”
“Hey, Seokmin-hyung pays great attention to detail when it comes to food. You can’t help but want it, too.”
As you observe the friendly banter between the couple, you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. You don’t come across two people who complement each other as well as they do, and from the curious glint in their newly adopted cat’s eyes, you think she likes being in their company as well.
“Fine, let’s test it out first,” Sohee huffs before scratching behind the Maine Coon’s ears. “We’re going to call you Milana. Does that sound good to you?”
When the cat nuzzles her hand with a pleased meow, Sohee and Vern turn to glance at each other at the same time—two matching smiles plastered on their faces.
God. You can only wish to have what they do.
Once the rest of the documents have been finalized, you and Mina—who just got back from updating the vaccination records for all the animals in the shelter—see your most recent clients off. Vern the Boyfriend, Sohee the Girlfriend, and Milana the Child are off to the streets to start the next chapter of their lives or whatever.
When the door to the front entrance clicks shut, you let out the longest, deepest sigh known to mankind. Your coworker stifles a laugh.
“Looks like someone’s jealous,” Mina comments.
You whine. “How could I not be jealous of that? They’re so in love, it’s sickening. They even got a kid together!”
“You know, you could easily have that too if you just stopped avoiding—”
“Oh, look at the time!” You interrupt her a little too theatrically, stomping off to the direction of the break room. “Gotta go meet my thesis adviser. Kino and the other volunteers should show up in the next hour, though!”
You don’t catch the frustrated look on Mina’s face as you make a hasty retreat, but it doesn’t make you any less guilty about trying to skirt around the topic every chance you get. Mina’s always had your back during these past two weeks. Though you never told her why you’re avoiding your not-so-quote-unquote crush like the plague, she’d always come up with excuses and alibis to throw him off your trail.
Which, coincidentally, happens again just as you’re changing out of your uniform.
“I don’t suppose you’re looking for a sibling for Hani?” you hear Mina sigh from outside.
The person she’s talking to laughs softly. “No. I think you know why I’m here again.”
God. That fucking voice.
“Well, again, she’s not here,” your coworker bluffs. “And uh, word of advice, I get that you’re hot shit and all, but if you keep trying to bother my friend who, for some reason, doesn’t want anything to do with you, I might have to call the authorities.”
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a second.
That’s a little too different from the typical ‘oh I’m sure she’ll come around one of these days’ spiel that Mina always feeds to Wonwoo every time he visits. Sure, you’re not yet ready to face him yet after everything that’s happened, but it’s not like you want him thrown in jail—
“Uh, right. I get it,” he says awkwardly, clearing his throat in the process. “It’s just that she hasn’t spoken to me in days and I’m a little worried—”
“That’s clearly a sign for you to back off, buddy.” You can almost see Mina with her arms crossed, rolling her eyes. “I’ve been keeping myself from saying anything about it, but I’ve always found it strange how often you visit a goddamn animal shelter. And now that she’s clearly avoiding you, you’re still trying to corner her? Are you a stalker or something?”
Fuck. This isn’t how the conversation is supposed to go!
Mina’s job is to just politely drive Wonwoo away so you can slip out of the building without having to talk to him. But your coworker must’ve misinterpreted your persistent reluctance to meet him as genuine fear and…while you’re glad you have a friend who looks out for you like that, she’s going about all of this the wrong way!
Wonwoo doesn’t speak for a long time and your heart squeezes at the notion that he’s been called all those harsh words when all he wanted to do was talk to you. You didn’t even give him any reasons as to why you suddenly decided to cut him off. But instead of marching out there to face him and clear the air yourself…
You stay hidden in the break room like a fucking coward.
“I understand why you’d assume that, but I don’t have any ill intentions—”
“That's exactly what a guy with ill intentions would say,” Mina scoffs. “Do both of us a favor and just leave, yeah? And stop trying to contact her when she obviously wants nothing to do with you anymore.”
The silence hangs thick from outside and despite being in the break room, you swear you can almost choke on it yourself.
You’re not sure what expression Wonwoo is wearing. Actually, you don’t even know him well enough to know those kinds of things. The most you’ve seen of his face was during that quiet night you spent together two weeks ago and you’ve severed contact with him all because of something that he probably could have explained if only you gave him the chance to.
“Okay,” he whispers so softly, you almost don’t catch it. “Thanks for your time.”
Fortunately, Mina doesn’t try to add any more fuel to the fire. All you hear is the sound of retreating footsteps and the sound of the front door clicking shut.
It’s only when your coworker pokes her head inside the break room that you realize you’ve been holding your breath.
“He’s gone now,” she murmurs with a comforting smile. “And if he doesn’t stop bothering you even after that, I’ll raise the complaint to the director himself. I’m sure he can pull some legal strings to keep that guy out of the area for good.”
You find it kind of ironic that a few minutes ago, Mina was teasing you about him and now things have escalated into restraining order territory. But you can’t really blame her for it.
Especially when you’ve done nothing to clear up the misunderstanding.
“Right. Thanks, Mina.” You manage a thin smile, fingers absentmindedly drifting to the black cat enamel you still pinned to your uniform’s chest pocket.
“I really appreciate it.”
Haewon 🪷 [10:30]: Unnie hiii
Haewon 🪷 [10:33]: Can you call me as soon as you read this? Xoxo
You get to check Haewon’s message three hours late because finally, finally you’ve managed to defend your thesis after innumerable sleepless nights and neverending changes to your manuscript draft. Your panelists and advisers had nothing but praises to sing about your work—even going as far as to promise that your paper will definitely be published in the next volume of the academic journal you’d been secretly hoping it’ll get selected for.
It’s still surreal that the only thing you’ve got left on your university to-do list is to attend the commencement rites scheduled in three weeks’ time. Four grueling years have really just gone by in a flash.
After enjoying one of your last lunch breaks in the quad with some old classmates who’ve also conquered the figurative beast that is their undergrad thesis, you excuse yourself for a while to give your little sister a ring. Haewon picks up on the second ring.
“About time you called,” she huffs. “I thought you were sleeping in the day again.”
You shake your head with a laugh despite the fact that she can’t see the gesture. “No more sleeping in the day for me ‘cause I’m graduating.”
Haewon gasps—loud enough to create static across the line. “Really? Oh my god. That’s good news then! Mom and dad were actually getting worried about you, you know? You’ve been throwing yourself into that stupid thesis of yours for a month now.”
It takes a while for you to formulate a response, something akin to guilt creeping into your heart at the prospect of worrying your parents sick. But then again, what’s done is done. You can catch up on the several hours of sleep and countless brain cells you’ve lost trying to make your final manuscript actually make sense.
“It’s all good now,” you reassure. “All you guys have to do now is fly over to Seoul for my graduation and I can pack my bags and go back to the countryside as soon as I can.”
You half-expect Haewon to laugh off your haste to travel back to your hometown and say something about how you’re better off in the city than this old dump.
But you’re met with silence instead.
“Um,” she starts nervously after a few moments. “I know most of the stuff that’s been stressing you out is gone now, but… Are you sure you’re okay?”
The question makes you swallow thickly. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Unnie, I’m your sister,” Haewon says a-matter-of-factly and you can almost picture her scowling at you. “We both know you’ve been acting really weird ever since the pre-recording. I couldn’t pester you about it ‘cause I had to go back home the next day. And I didn’t want to bother you while you were finishing up your thesis.
“So now that all those obstacles are out of the way, do you mind telling me what’s wrong?”
The sound of the other students milling around the quad rings in your ears as you process Haewon’s words. When you take a deep breath, the exhale is accompanied by defeated laughter.
You’re an idiot to think you could ever escape your little sister’s scrutiny.
“I know you’re going to give me shit if I say it’s nothing you should worry about—”
“You’re right,” she interjects. “I will give you shit.”
“—but it really is nothing you should worry about,” you continue anyway, toying with the hem of your sweater with a wistful sigh. “Long story short, it’s…boy problems. Boy problems that I’ve ignored long enough that they just went away all on their own.”
At the other line, Haewon makes a strangled noise as if that’s not the answer she was expecting. “Come again?”
“Yeah, Hae. Your big sister actually has boy problems,” you chortle. “Weird, right?”
“Yes and you didn’t even bother telling me about it at all?!” She crows angrily. “You have to give me the gist or I’m hanging up and booking the next flight to Seoul.”
For a moment, you hesitate and give yourself a moment to think about what you can and can’t tell Haewon over a phone call when she’s a whole plane ride away from you.
She absolutely cannot know that the boy in question is Wonwoo. You’ll probably spend more time trying to convince her that what you’re saying is true than avoiding a pity party. So instead, you tell her:
“Well, this boy and I had…something good going for us, I think. I like him, you know—really, really like him. But then one day, I found out that he’s been keeping this important thing about himself from me.” A sigh. “Like, I know some stuff is none of my business, but it’s so easy for him to let others know about that…that thing, yet somehow he never bothered to tell me. I couldn’t help but feel like he didn’t trust me enough.”
Surprisingly, Haewon lets out a hum of understanding. “Yeah, that’s kind of a dick move on his part. Did you confront him about it?”
You find yourself tongue-tied for a moment—a bit embarrassed to admit to your little sister that you chose the coward’s way out of this.
“Um, that’s the thing. I kind of ghosted him when I found out,” you tell her sheepishly. “I don’t think he knows the reason why I suddenly just dipped to this day. Haven’t spoken to him in…two months.”
“Uh-huh. So all this time, you’ve been burying your guilt in schoolwork. Is that it?”
The straightforward tone catches you off guard for a second. “That’s not—”
“Unnie,” Haewon calls out firmly, making you close your mouth. “Again, I’m your sister. I know things about you that others don’t—things that you don’t either, probably. And trust me when I say this, but you are not the confrontational type. Don’t worry though because it’s perfectly fine to avoid the things you don’t want to deal with. Especially if you’re dealing with a person that’s more trouble than they’re worth.
“But…you said that you really, really like him. Present tense.” She pauses briefly, as if letting you digest what she’s saying a little better. “If the circumstances were even slightly different, I would’ve cheered you on for ghosting someone who hasn’t been one hundred percent honest with you because, duh? Deserved. But from the way you’ve been coping with what happened, I can’t help but think that avoiding him like this isn’t what you wanted to do at all.”
Haewon’s words flow from the speaker and lance straight through your heart, and you start to wonder when she started sounding so reliable. You’re used to looking out for her even with the distance separating you. But ironically, it’s in your last year of college that your sister effortlessly dissected the dilemma that’s been plaguing you for weeks.
“Look, I think you’ll feel much better about all this if you just talk to him,” she continues when you don’t utter a word in response. “Not that I’m siding with some semi-lying jerk, but maybe he had his reasons for hiding…whatever he was hiding from you? If he gives you a bullshit excuse, then at least the ghosting will finally be justified, right?”
Her frankness makes you snort. “I guess.”
“Good. Now hang up and call him now.”
“...What?”
“You heard me.”
“Haewon, I can’t just call him out of nowhere after ignoring him for so long.”
“Pfft. Of course you can! If he doesn’t answer, then that still justifies the ghosting because he obviously doesn’t want you enough. Men like that don’t deserve you, unnie.”
“...Fine. Point taken.”
You end the call after Haewon makes you swear to keep her posted about the situation and your love life in general from now on. Sighing, you reluctantly scroll through your messaging app—finding a conversation that’s long been buried by more recent texts from other people after he sent his final messages to you.
Woo 🐈⬛ [02:35]: It’s been three weeks since you last replied. Hope you’re doing okay.
Woo 🐈⬛ [02:36]: Mina told me that you wanted nothing to do with me anymore but I really don’t understand why because…aren’t we good? Didn’t we have something back there? Or was I just reading you wrong the whole time?
Woo 🐈⬛ [02:55]: Either way, she was right about one thing at least. I’ve probably made you uncomfortable with my texts. Kind of pathetic now that I think about it.
Woo 🐈⬛ [03:01]: I’m sorry for constantly bothering you like this. It’s just that…I want to know what went wrong.
Woo 🐈⬛ [03:05]: It’s getting harder for me to sleep at night knowing I fucked up something that could’ve been the start of something nice. I was already planning our first date, you know?
Woo 🐈⬛ [03:10]: Fuck. Now it just sounds like I’m gaslighting haha.
Woo 🐈⬛ [03:17]: Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not. I don’t even know anymore.
Woo 🐈⬛ [04:25]: What I do know is that I miss you. So much.
Woo 🐈⬛ [10:05]: Uh. Sorry about all of that. I had a few drinks and…you know how it goes.
Woo 🐈⬛ [10:12]: I’ll stop texting you for real now.
Woo 🐈⬛ [10:15]: I hope your studies go well. Thank you for being part of my life, no matter how short our time together was.
Fuck.
This is going to be much more difficult than you thought.
You don’t really blame yourself when it takes you a few days to decide whether or not you should call Wonwoo. The choice has been weighing on you like a cloud above your head and you had to decline several invites to go out from your friends because you simply cannot sit still, knowing that you have to do something about…whatever’s going on with the two of you.
Part of you insists on just leaving it as it is. Wonwoo is an idol that’s almost a decade into his career and you’re much too certain that he’s met enough people in his life to deem the loss of your company specifically a big deal. He has his members, his fans, and anything else a person could ever want.
So what if some college senior he doesn’t even know that well just ghosted him out of nowhere?
But even with that logic, you still end up holding your breath before pressing the call button one Tuesday afternoon.
There are a total of five attempts made and all five lead you straight to voicemail—each instance making your heart grow heavier and heavier once the prerecorded message comes to an end. You secretly fear that he must’ve blocked your number altogether. Why wouldn’t he after you’ve wasted his time as much as you did?
Others would’ve considered this as a sign to just give up. The universe is basically telling you that the brief time you shared together would yield nothing more. Wonwoo has his own career to worry about and as do you, now that you’re finally going to be ejected from university and into the life of an unemployed fresh grad. You’re better off not chasing after the things you’ve purposely run away from in the first place.
So why on earth are you looking up the exact address of his company building, making the long commute for the slim chance of running into him against all odds?
The security around the area might look lax but you can spot the assortment of security guards stationed both inside and outside of the company building pretty easily. Given the nature of the business they’re running, it would make sense that they’d put up all possible countermeasures against people who might try to inconvenience their artists in any way.
Not wanting to be branded as a crazed fan, you decide to keep your distance—purposely lingering outside the shopping center just across the street as you brainstorm how exactly you’re going to meet up with Wonwoo.
But as the minutes ticked past, your sense of reason is starting to overpower your desire to clear things up with him. For one, you don’t even know what his schedule looks like. How can you be so sure that he’ll even be there today? Worse, would Wonwoo even want to speak with you after everything? Despite having kept the fact that he’s an idol a secret to you all this time, he has all the right to refuse speaking with you when you never even gave him a chance to explain himself.
The noise of the busy district fades in the background as your eyes fall to Wonwoo’s final text message. You haven’t even thought of texting him since you considered reaching out. But with the fact that your earlier phone calls didn’t go through, you don’t think you can bear seeing your apologetic messages get denied in the very real chance that he’s blacklisted your number altogether.
God. You feel so pathetic.
“Hey, it’s you!”
You immediately blanche at the feeling of someone placing a hand on your shoulder—turning around to see who it is only to be met with the sight of two familiar faces.
“Oh,” you voice out somewhat dumbly. “Miss…Sohee? And Vern?”
The couple who adopted a cat from the shelter flashes you pretty smiles, the two of them carrying grocery bags in each arm. Sohee perks up when you recognize them. “Yup! I didn’t expect to see the nice shelter lady around these parts. What brings you here?”
“Just…stuff.” The laugh you spare them is a little too forced, but if they notice, they don’t comment on it. “How about you guys? How has Milana been?”
“Feels right at home in either of our apartments,” Vern chuckles. “You were right about her having high standards. We always end up doing our grocery shopping here instead of the supermarket near my place ‘cause Lana refuses to eat any of the cheap cat food being sold there.”
Sohee sighs in agreement. “Mhmm. You wouldn’t even think she was a rescue with how high maintenance she is, but we’re idiots that dote on her all the time. It’s just a good thing we work right across the street from here.”
Feeling endeared with how much they spoil their new child aside, the latter part of Sohee’s statement catches your attention for a moment. “Sorry? You work right across the street?”
The moment the words leave your lips, the charming smiles on their faces falter before the couple before you share a look. A brief moment of telepathic communication must’ve occurred between the both of them, as if wordlessly discussing whether they should respond, but in the end Sohee relents.
“Yeah. Vern and I work at HYBE,” she chuckles. “I’m actually surprised you don’t recognize him, since he’s—”
“A very loyal employee that the nice shelter lady can’t possibly recognize,” Vern interjects with a cough into his fist and the immediate reaction makes it easier to put two and two together.
He’s an idol. One hundred percent an idol.
Deciding to play along, you offer up a nod in understanding. “I see. Guess you guys are heading back for the day?”
“Yep. We had one of the other members—uh, I mean, one of our friends look after Milana while we had our grocery run,” Vern explains not-so-smoothly.
“As much as we’d like to stay and chat for a while longer, our baby kind of needs us,” Sohee tells you with an apologetic look. “I hope things at the shelter are running smoothly! We’ve seen how dedicated you guys are to taking care of those poor animals.”
You nod. “Of course. I’ll see you guys around?”
“Anytime!”
You and the beautiful couple exchange quaint bows in farewell before the two of them start walking away. But with each footstep that they take further and further away from you, the itch to run after them and ask what you’ve been dying to when they said they both worked at HYBE grows all the more unbearable.
Cut it out, you mentally hiss at yourself. You can’t bother other people about your issues with Wonwoo. That’s just a whole new low.
You should’ve just gone the opposite direction when the conversation ended. You should’ve just directed yourself to the nearest bus stop back to your apartment—buried all of this in the past where it belongs.
But it’s as if your body has a mind of its own. The next thing you know, you’re sprinting towards Sohee and Vern before they could cross the next intersection—surprising the couple with your sudden re-entry.
“Did you need something?” Sohee asks, accommodating and confused all at once.
Now or never.
“Yes, actually,” you dole out breathlessly, pursing your lips before adding:
“Do you guys know where Wonwoo is?”
Out of all the ways you thought this day could turn out, you never would’ve imagined being in the backseat of one of HYBE’s music producers—breezing through the city’s freeway as she interrogates you about just how exactly you know Jeon Wonwoo.
“So you’re the reason he’s being so off lately,” Sohee chuckles before switching lanes. “Wonwoo’s always been the quiet type, but sometimes you can just tell when there’s a lot on his mind. Isn’t that right, Vernon?”
Vernon, who you come to realize is part of the same group as Wonwoo, glances at you from the rearview mirror with a shake of his head. “I can vouch. Wonwoo-hyung’s been working on sharing stuff with us, but of course there’s still some things he’d like to keep to himself.”
I also don’t want to be closed off from others anymore. Back then, I mostly just kept everything to myself—bottling it all up until it was just unbearable.
Great. Now you feel twice as horrible.
“Honestly, I was kind of scared that you guys would think I’m a sasaeng,” you admit with a dry laugh before settling further into the car’s plush upholstery.
“While we have no reason not to think that with all the weirdos popping up these days,” Sohee starts before her lips curve into a smile, “it just so happens that Soonyoung also can’t keep his mouth shut about Wonwoo’s little crush.”
That makes your face heat up a little. “Soonyoung like…Wonwoo’s friend?”
“You might know him better as Hoshi,” Vernon explains.
Hoshi, Hoshi, Hoshi…
You snap your fingers once you figure it out. “Yeah. He’s my sister’s bias wrecker.”
“Now we learn that your sister is a fan, too? Huh. Small world.”
“Anyway,” Sohee interjects. “The reason why we believed your explanation was because Soonyoung described Wonwoo’s crush as an animal lover. He’s not so much of a blabbermouth that he gave us more details aside from that, but Vernon here told me about how Wonwoo always comes late to their unit meetings because he keeps making all these detours first.”
Vernon stifles a laugh. “I actually found out about the shelter because Coups-hyung insisted that we follow him around to figure out where he’s been going. It didn’t occur to me at the time that his animal lover crush and the nice shelter lady could be the same person.”
At this point, you can honestly get used to being called a nice shelter lady. But that aside, you can’t help but flush even further at all the things being revealed to you right now.
It’s…a lot to unpack.
First, Wonwoo has a crush on you? A complete nobody? Then again, from how often he’s been seeking you out before things went to shit, you could infer that he’s at least a little bit interested from how he kept going out of his way to see you. He’s even late to meetings because of his little visits. This so-called crush was quite obvious, you just don’t like how flustered hearing it out loud makes you feel.
“But then Wonwoo-hyung just started showing up on time to our meetings during our comeback promotions,” Vernon continues. “We were glad we didn’t have to keep waiting for him to start, but…we also noticed that he’s been kind of down lately. The first time it happened, I assumed it was just an off day for him, though now that we met you like this, that’s definitely not the case.”
Wonwoo’s been feeling down? Because of you?
If the roles were reversed, you can say that you’d feel the same if he just stopped talking to you when you thought you were already growing closer. It doesn’t help that the last time you were together, you shared far too many kisses that mere friends should indulge each other with.
You sigh, leaning your head against the headrest.
You’re such an idiot. A selfish, inconsiderate—
“Well, here we are.”
When the car pulls over, you don’t even realize that Sohee already left the freeway and drove into one of the roads overlooking the Han River. You can barely keep yourself from choking on your own breath when you spot a very familiar motorcycle parked in front of the vehicle. It doesn’t help that Sohee pulled over a certain spot underneath the elevated highway that you’re very much certain you’ve already been to once before.
“Hyung doesn’t know that we know about this place. He never brings anyone else here,” Vernon informs you with a small smile. “From the look on your face, we can assume that he’s already brought you here though, right?”
You can’t even deny it at this point. “Yeah…”
Sohee moves to unlock the doors before glancing behind the driver’s seat with an encouraging look. “Well, how about you clear things upso we can start going on double dates and stuff.”
“Sohee,” her boyfriend groans.
“What? I think it’d be a great idea.” She pouts. “We can even rope Nari and Mingyu into tagging along. Then it’ll be a triple date.”
“What she means to say is,” Vernon cuts in before Sohee can get another word out. “No pressure. You go sort out the stuff you need to with Wonwoo-hyung. I’m sure the two of you can make the best decision for each other once you get to talk properly.”
The best decision, huh…
Your new friends watch you with wordless encouragement as you open the door to your left, letting out a long-winded breath so you wouldn’t be too psyched out by the circumstances. You thank them both with a subtle nod as you gather enough courage to see the person you’ve been longing to meet again for a while now.
Now or never, you repeat to yourself before finally stepping out of the car.
Wonwoo’s thinking spot looks much different in the day than it does at night.
You had a pretty hard time navigating the short terrain from the road to the old, weathered steps of the watchtower because of the lack of proper illumination. If it weren’t for Wonwoo guiding you the entire time, you would’ve face planted into the pebbled pathway on the first few steps.
The sun is already setting when you make it to your destination—red orange rays splintering through the high rise buildings on the other side of the river bank. It’s not difficult to spot Wonwoo’s tall figure leaning across the rusty railing of the watchtower, a gentle smile gracing his handsome face as he plays with the growing kitten in his arms.
He doesn’t notice you at the foot of the concrete steps right away, too engrossed with playing with Hani to take in the rest of his surroundings. But the longer you watch them from afar, the more your chest twists with guilt.
All this time, you never really thought about how Wonwoo must’ve been faring since you ghosted him. You merely assumed that he’d still be living his best life despite what happened between the two of you. The thought that he’ll still be better off without you in his life spurred you on to solely focus on the things you’ve got going on your end. You didn’t consider just how your actions would affect him. Not even once.
But now, despite having such an adorable cat to keep him company, it isn’t hard to tell that he’s not in the most stellar of moods.
It’s not like you’ve seen Wonwoo smile a lot when you still knew him as Woo—no thanks to his silly little face masks. But you always liked how his eyes crinkled behind his glasses whenever you said something he finds funny or amusing. The easygoing body language he always seemed to have around you.
There’s none of that now.
“Wonwoo.”
He visibly stiffens at the sound of someone calling his name. Cautiously, Wonwoo tucks Hani closer to his chest—glancing around for anyone who could have infiltrated his safe haven.
When his eyes land on you, you can almost hear his breath hitch from where you’re standing.
Seeing no indication that he doesn’t want you here, you swallow the lump in your throat before climbing up the stairs. Each step you take is familiar yet foreign at the same time and you can hear your heart pounding in your ears the closer you get to him. The startled expression on Wonwoo’s face doesn’t falter even when you’re mere feet in front of him on top of the watchtower—like he’s having a hard time grasping your existence.
Hani, however, doesn’t seem all that fazed. The black kitten mewls in delight at the sight of you, squirming around in Wonwoo’s arms, which seems to snap her owner out of his stupor.
His throat bobs. “You know my name.”
You laugh softly. “It isn’t hard to figure it out when you’re as famous as you are.”
Silence permeates the air by the riverside as Wonwoo processes the words you just told him. He sucks in a breath through his teeth, hands absentmindedly running across Hani’s fur.
“So that’s why,” he chuckles with a shake of his head. “I should’ve known…”
You mirror the gesture somewhat vigorously, your throat closing up from all the things you want to say. He doesn’t deserve to be left hanging all because of that stupid reason alone. He doesn’t deserve those hurtful words from Mina.
Most of all, he doesn’t deserve to feel this shitty all because you were too much of a coward to communicate with him.
“I’m sorry.”
He startles at your apology—obviously not expecting that to be the first thing you say to him after two months of radio silence. “W-Why are you sorry? I should be—”
“It was unfair of me to just ghost you like that when you haven’t explained yourself,” you murmur, tucking your hands behind your back as you stare down at your shoes in shame. “I’m sure you had your reasons for not telling me right away, but… I selfishly thought you didn’t trust me enough to let me know.”
“No,” he quickly clarifies. “It’s not like that at all. I trust you—so much.”
“I know,” you sigh. “It took me a while, but I realized that along the way. The last time we were here, you entrusted me with the story of how you coped with losing someone. You entrusted me with your thoughts, your feelings, your secrets. And I took all that for granted because you didn’t tell me you were an idol.”
Wonwoo falls silent for only a moment as if considering what words to say next. Hani seems to sense his distress, cuddling up to his chest in an attempt to soothe him. He notices what she’s doing right away and Wonwoo scratches behind her ears with a breathless chuckle.
“If it’s any consolation, I didn’t plan on hiding it forever. I knew you would find out eventually—just not as soon as you did,” he murmurs. “It was also unfair of me to take advantage of the fact that you didn’t know me as Wonwoo. But…I wanted to keep my career out of the equation first because it’s nice being treated like a normal person. You never put me on a pedestal or looked at me like I was some sort of god.
“You treated me like I was human.”
This time, you’re the one who’s at a loss for words.
Having Haewon as a sister, you have this preconceived notion about idols where they have the world in the palm of their hands. You thought for the longest time that all they had to do was go up the stage to sing and dance and look beautiful and the rest will follow.
Hearing Wonwoo tell you this easily subverted all those assumptions.
You’ve never been good at telling people the things they need to hear. That’s Haewon’s area of expertise, not yours. So instead of offering up any words of comfort, you quickly close the distance that’s been keeping you apart to throw your arms around his broad shoulders.
Wonwoo freezes up when you pull him into a hug and he loathes the fact that he can’t even reciprocate it given that he has his hands full. It’s kind of adorable how careful you’re being to make sure you don’t accidentally squish Hani between your bodies.
Suddenly, all that heaviness that’s been lingering in his heart for weeks dissipates in a flash. Wonwoo relishes in the feeling of your warmth seeping into his, resting his forehead on your shoulder as he holds back his emotions.
“Can we start over again?” you murmur. “We still haven’t had our first date, right?”
When you feel the sound of his laughter rumbling in his chest, you can’t help the goosebumps that rise across your skin. “Wow. I didn’t expect you to forgive me that fast.”
Pulling away for a moment, you shoot him a dirty look. “Jeon Wonwoo, are you saying I’m easy?”
“Not at all.” Wonwoo grins and you can barely look at him without recoiling at how good he looks.
His hair has grown much longer than you remember and seeing the smile that oh-so easily hooked you in deeper than you already were, you already know that you can’t ever hope to put up a fight.
Not when he’s so love-of-your-life-shaped.
“Since we’re at the point of catching up, I’m actually graduating in three weeks.”
Wonwoo sharply turns to look at you with a scowl as he puts Hani in a little cat backpack he got for her. “Three weeks? Shit… I think we’re going to have a concert at that time.”
You wave away his concern with a smile. “I didn’t mean I was expecting you to show up at the venue, doofus. Can’t have any weird rumors about you going around by attending my graduation.”
“Rumors about what?” he challenges.
“You know.”
“I actually don’t.”
“We just made up ten minutes ago, Do you really want me to bail on you again?”
“Hey, I just thought that if you ever want to spark some dating rumors, we can make it happen any time.”
“We’re not even dating!”
“Not yet.”
“What?”
“It’s just like you said—I still owe you that first date, don’t I?”
“...Have I told you that you’re insufferable?”
“I’m actually surprised you didn’t start calling me that when I kept visiting the shelter too often to be considered normal.”
“That reminds me, why were you visiting the shelter so much?”
When Wonwoo hands you Hani’s cat backpack, you take it as an invitation to hitch a ride on his motorcycle. After all, it would be uncomfortable to have it sitting between the two of you. However, he takes you completely by surprise by answering you with:
“I like you. That’s why.”
It takes you about five whole seconds to recover from what he just said but it’s five seconds too late because Wonwoo is already chuckling to himself as if he deserves to have the last laugh.
“You’re lucky that I like you too,” you mumble as you carefully hop on his ride—sitting comfortably behind him while making sure Hani is strapped securely behind you. “If I didn’t, Mina would’ve made our boss file a restraining order against you.”
Wonwoo hands you a spare helmet before putting on his own, laughing again as he clicks the lock in place. “Dating rumors and stalking rumors? Being with you sounds like such a big hassle now.”
“Are we going on that first date or not?!”
Two months after graduating and four weeks into officially dating Jeon Wonwoo, you find out the real reason he was taking so damn long to make up his mind about adopting Hani.
The landlord doesn’t prohibit pets—he loves them, actually.
His dog, Seol, is a little shy, but she gets along with Hani just fine.
But then his old roommate, Mingyu, dropped by to visit Wonwoo’s apartment one day, sneezing all over the place like it’s pollen season. Except the pollen in question is cat fur and it just so happens that he didn’t bring any of his allergy meds for the trip.
“As much as I want to cuddle on the couch catching up on the Marvel Cinematic Universe with you guys, I gotta go,” Mingyu explains while blowing his nose into a tissue. “I’ll die if I spend even a second longer here.”
Wonwoo throws a piece of popcorn at him. “Didn’t you say that you’re going on a date with Nari?”
“Oh. That, too.”
“If she finds out that you just remembered as an afterthought, she’s going to kill you,” you tease while shoving a handful of your movie snacks into your mouth. “At least, that’s what I’d do if Wonwoo did the same thing.”
“Oh, she will. That’s why neither of you are going to tattle on me,” the beefy idol huffs before tossing the soiled tissue in the trash bin. “Anyway, Wonwoo-hyung, you should totally keep in touch with this pet sitter that Seungcheol-hyung discovered recently. A bunch of other artists leave their pets with her whenever they have tight schedules.”
Your boyfriend merely looks at him with an unimpressed look. “Are you saying that just so I can leave Hani there when you come over to play video games with me?”
“Yes.”
Mingyu leaves shortly after receiving a phone call from his girlfriend, Nari, who sounded nothing short of furious when she asked where on earth he is and why he’s late for their date again. Wonwoo tells you that his best friend has a thing for pissing off Nari just so he has an excuse to do grand gestures for her without his girlfriend complaining about it. You tell him that he should start doing the same too.
“By the way, you’re flying back to Jeju for a while, right?” Wonwoo asks once the credits start rolling in the film playing on his TV—the loose grip he has around your waist tightening ever-so slightly.
You shift your weight on the couch to cuddle closer to him. “Yeah. I haven’t seen my parents and Haewon since I graduated. Plus, I don’t have to start working until next month, so I can afford a last-minute getaway.”
He nods. “I still think it’s funny you haven’t told your sister about me. Are you ashamed of me or something?”
“Quit saying weird stuff, Jeon Wonwoo,” you huff before hitting him in the chest. Damn those firm pecs. “I just want to see the look on her face when she finds out I’m dating the person she ships with Mingyu for fun.”
“And I still can’t believe my future sister-in-law is a Gyuldaengie.”
You try not to think about how he said Haewon is his future in-law. You really do.
Once the last of the end credits pans on-screen, the bonus scene at the end of every Marvel movie starts playing and you can’t help but snort when Eddy gets snapped back to his own universe before he can even pay off his tab to the bartender. Just when you’re about to ask Wonwoo if he wants to watch the next movie, you realize he’s had his eyes on you the entire time.
“What?” you laugh.
“Nothing,” he whispers. “I just thought you were really pretty.”
“Wonwoo, you tell me that every thirty minutes. Don’t you get tired of it?”
You yelp when he abruptly pulls you onto his lap, steadying you by the hips so you wouldn’t accidentally topple to the floor. He flashes you a lazy grin as he traces circles along the curve of your thighs and you can barely suppress a groan when you look down at him.
He might look like some otherworldly creature every time he kills it on stage, but you love this Wonwoo just the same—dressed down with his glasses sitting all crooked on the bridge of his nose, hair falling across his eyes.
“Never,” he says simply.
There’s something oddly sensual about the way he says it and at that moment, you catch on to the half-lidded look in his eyes. You gulp, gaze instinctively wandering around his apartment to look for Hani and Seol, who you spot dozing next to each other in the kitchen.
Now that you’re sure none of the kids are watching, you let out a defeated sigh before lacing your arms around his neck and leaning down to kiss him.
Wonwoo is a guy you caved and kissed before the first date, so it’s pretty natural for the two of you to fall into this degree of intimacy every now and again. His effect on you is especially lethal whenever you spend several days apart because of the nature of his career.
But even if you’re yet to cross that line with your boyfriend, the possibility of it finally coming into fruition becomes more and more real every time his hot tongue slides against yours.
“Won…woo—” you gasp when you feel his cold fingers sneak up your shirt, hands firmly grabbing your waist to keep you in place.
Your boyfriend chuckles and the low vibrations that come from his chest shoot straight to your core. “I know tonight was supposed to be movie night, but you’re making it really hard to keep my hands off of you.”
“That’s what you say all the time,” you groan as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and tugs. Fuck. “Always blaming me for your lack of self-control.”
“I can’t help it when you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips before tugging you back down for another heated kiss.
You’ve fooled around with Wonwoo a handful of times and during said times, you’ve gotten an idea of how…into it he gets when pleasuring you. It’s almost as if he delights in seeing you come undone for him even if it’s just with his mouth and fingers.
It’s during those moments that you can’t help but imagine how he would be once the two of you finally take things all the way. But for all your teasing about how he has questionable self-control, Wonwoo has done nothing but respect the boundaries you’ve clearly set when you started dating.
“Fuck,” he rasps when he pulls away briefly, resting his head against the cushions of the sofa as he closes his eyes. “Baby, we’ve gotta stop or else I might just cave and fuck you.”
You simper. “You’re the one who started this.”
“Yeah, and that’s why I’m putting a stop to it before I end up doing something you don’t like!”
You shift around on his lap for a moment and Wonwoo is convinced that you’ll give him some reprieve and get off of him before he loses his mind. But then he realizes you’re grinding your hips against the hard-on he’s sporting in his sweats.
Chuckling to yourself, you pull him by the front of his shirt—pressing a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth before leaning into his ear to whisper:
“What if I want you to fuck me, Woo?”
The deep growl that resonates in his throat sounds so fucking hot, you can feel a gush of slick surge between your thighs. He doesn’t say a word—merely opting to keep his hard stare on yours as he wraps your legs around his waist. You immediately get the gist and hold on tight to him as he carries you out of the living room and into his bedroom.
“I’m giving you a chance to back out again, sweetheart,” he sighs as he kicks the door shut behind him. “Think you can handle it when I get serious about fucking you until you can’t walk?”
The mental image he conjures in your head has you mewling in his arms, prompting you to pepper his neck with sloppy kisses as he gropes your ass like it’s always belonged to him.
“Think you can actually make good on that though?” you challenge with a soft chuckle, grazing your teeth just below his collarbone. You won’t bite—knowing that his stylists will give him hell for it if he shows up to work with hickeys. “We both know you like to talk big sometimes.”
Wonwoo breathes out a condescending chuckle before gently easing you on top of the mattress. You didn’t think it was possible, but you swear you get even wetter when he takes off his glasses and licks his lips at the sight of you.
“Oh, baby, you’re in for a fucking ride.”
That’s how you find yourself with your back pressed against Wonwoo’s insanely sculpted chest—both your mouth and pussy stuffed with his thick fingers as he works you open enough to take his cock. He slides those thick digits in and out of your wet channel, making sure you get used to the stretch all while he muffles your noises at the same time.
Normally, he likes hearing you get whiney and desperate for him, but there’s a charm to seeing you slobber all over his fingers as you clench up around the ones buried in your pussy.
“Fuck, baby. So goddamn tight for me,” he whispers huskily in your ear and the sound of his rough voice layered with the lewd squelch of your cunt makes your insides tingle. “Been thinking about having this pretty pussy all to myself for a while now. You gonna let me have it now, baby? Let me wreck you on my cock?”
Wonwoo easily has the hottest voice you’ve ever heard in your entire life. While you often think about how you can fall asleep happily just listening to him talk about anything under the sun, it’s an entirely different story when he’s spouting all this filth into your ear as he prepares you for an overdue dicking down.
“Yes, please—” You sob pathetically when he takes his fingers out of your mouth, curling your arm behind you so you can blindly grab his hair and mend your lips into a messy kiss. “Wonwoo, I need you so bad.”
“Desperate little thing,” your boyfriend chuckles before withdrawing his fingers from your needy hole. The loss has you writhing in his lap, one hand shooting out to keep him where you want him but Wonwoo coos into your ear as if to pacify you. “Shhh, baby, I need you to come first before I fuck you. You’ll be good for me and let me make you come, right?”
Shit. Who are you to refuse when he propositions you like that?
“I need an answer, sweetheart.”
“I’ll be good,” you gasp almost immediately as your boyfriend starts parting your pussy lips with the hand that was muffling your cute noises. “I’ll be so good for you, please just—”
“Just what, baby?” Wonwoo teases and you nearly cry.
“M-Make me come on your fingers…”
He hums, slick fingers gliding along your slit. “Not if you don’t say—”
“Please,” you whimper before grinding your pussy against his hand. “Wonwoo, I wanna come. Wanna come so bad. Want you to stuff me full of your cock. Want you to—”
It’s almost like he tapped in on every single nerve ending in your body when his dexterous fingers find your clit—rubbing the puffy bud in fast, tight circles as you start twitching in his arms. Wonwoo lets out another evil laugh as he forcibly pries your legs apart. The firmness of his grip leaves you no choice but to thrash around as he builds your orgasm from the ground up, trailing wet kisses along the column of your throat as he teases an orgasm out of you with the sound of his voice coupled with his sinful ministrations.
“So wet and ready for me. Have you thought about taking me inside this sweet little pussy? Do you think you can even fit me when you’re this tight?” he breathes into your ear and you don’t even have the dignity to bite down your moans anymore. “You’re so close, sweetheart. Let yourself go and I’ll give you what you want. I’ll blow your pretty back out over and over until you’re sick of me.”
Never, you want to tell him. I’ll never get sick of you, stupid Wonwoo.
Funnily enough, that silent jab at him is quickly followed by a mind-numbing release. It washes over you like a storm surging into a calm shore—overloading every cell in your body with pleasure until the only thing that comes out of your mouth is a broken rendition of your lover’s name.
Wonwoo talks you through your high because he knows you’ve got a thing for his voice. Knows just how much tighter you get when he whispers filthy words with a sultry sweet tone.
And when he growls, “Good fucking girl,” into your ear, you’re convinced he just made you come again while still riding the waves of your first orgasm.
For all his vigor, Wonwoo is surprisingly patient with you as you recover from what he just put you through. He plants brief kisses all over your neck and face until your breathing finally evens out and you stop seeing stars in the seams of your vision. Your boyfriend offers up a gentle smile when you finally come to—leaning in to kiss your nose.
“You still want more?” he whispers, exercising enough restraint to be revered despite the fact that you can feel his hard, leaking cock pressed against the small of your back.
A soft, somewhat weak laugh makes its way past your lips as you turn around to peck his lips. Wonwoo smiles against your mouth and you can’t help but do the same.
Then, you issue another challenge.
“Do your worst.”
You’re grateful now more than ever that Wonwoo is the easiest person to talk to in the entire world. You can practically count the things that he wouldn’t want to discuss with you on one hand alone.
In other words, you’ve already had the necessary conversations about sex, should you ever have it with him in the future (A.K.A., right now). Wonwoo knows you’ve been on birth control ever since you moved to Seoul all those years ago. He knows that you get yourself tested at least once every month if you can and assures you that he does the same.
On the other hand, you’re well aware that your boyfriend has a thing for coming inside, and now that you’ve gone this far with him, you’ll gladly let Wonwoo make his fantasies a reality.
He only agreed to it once you promised to tell him whenever you feel like he’s going too far or if he’s doing something you don’t like. You swear you would’ve married him on the spot, if it weren’t for that tiny voice in your head that suspiciously sounds like Haewon telling you off for losing it over a man who’s doing the bare minimum.
With those measures in place, you feel safe enough to let Wonwoo press your face down onto the mattress as his free hand grips your ass—fucking into your tight cunt as he tries (and fails) to keep himself from being too rough with you.
He really, really wanted to be gentle, considering it’s your first time to lie together like this. But your unfiltered reactions do nothing but test both his patience and self-control in more ways than one. All his plans on making love to you in good old missionary have been tossed out of the window now that you’ve given him the green light to actually fuck you until you can’t walk.
“Wonwoo,” you moan, fists curling into the sheets as he cants his hips deeper and deeper—the head of his cock hitting spots your own fingers could never hope to reach. “S-So fucking good…”
“Yeah?” he breathes raspily before leaning down to press his chest against your back, wanting to engulf you in the heat of his body until it’s all you’ll ever know. “My pretty baby loves my cock that much? You want me to fuck you all the time now?”
“Uh huh.” You nod before letting out a high pitched keen when he amps up the speed of his thrusts—slamming his hips harder against your ass.
Wonwoo thinks he could really get used to the sight of your pretty pussy sucking him in like this. You’re so greedy—clamping down on him as tightly as you do as you moan his name like it’s the only word in your vocabulary. But how could you not when each vein that runs along the underside of his perfect cock drags so deliciously across your velvet walls? When his balls—hot and heavy and full of enough cum to fill you to the brim—keep clapping against your pussy with each powerful thrust?
It’s the first time that you got to get a taste of what your boyfriend is capable of in bed and you can only imagine every instance that will follow once all’s said and done.
When he feels your walls start to spasm around his length every now and again, Wonwoo presses a sloppy kiss across the cut of your jaw—a hand sliding between your thighs so he can find that little bundle of nerves that made you fall apart only several minutes ago. Your reaction is immediate—crying and squirming below him even when you’re helpless against his massive frame pressing you down into the bed.
“I’m so close, baby,” he groans into your ear, holding out for as long as he can just so he can feel the sensation of you coming around his cock. “You’re almost there, too, aren’t you? My good girl—taking my dick like it’s always been yours. Can you come with me? You can do that for me, right, sweetheart?”
The fondness in his voice strings you even further apart and you’re nothing but a mess of pleasure and delirium as Wonwoo continues his assault on your poor, abused clit. He knows just the right amount of pressure to use and manages to time his thrusts with each delicious pass on that oversensitive bud.
It’s all over before you know it.
You let out a long-winded moan that will definitely earn him a couple of noise complaints from the neighbors but Wonwoo doesn’t have it in him to fucking care at the moment. Not when your walls are clamping down so tightly around his cock—making each stroke all the more tantalizing as your pussy milks him for everything he’s got to give you.
You mindlessly babble a string of I love yous against the sheets, a trail of drool dripping onto the mattress as Wonwoo fucks into you with heightened ferocity. He catches every single word you say and he tilts your head to the side so he can kiss you. Your boyfriend forces your tongue into a dance with his own until his hips stutter and stop—white hot emission surging into your cunt in thick spurts that he hopes would stay inside you for days if he can help himself.
You’re a mess—face painted with a fucked out expression as your pussy leaks with a mixture of yours and Wonwoo’s cum. The mere sight of it is almost enough to make him hard again, but he tells himself that he can take you up on marathon sex next time.
For now, he just wants to clean you up and tuck you back into bed.
“Woo?”
He turns to face you with a questioning look. Your boyfriend just finished with your mandatory aftercare session and is in the middle of making the bed comfortable enough for some post-sex cuddles. “Hmm?”
“You’re still free next week right?” you ask, drawing silly shapes on his chest with your finger once he finally lays down next to you.
“Yeah. I don’t have any major schedules until…” He pauses before conjuring up an imaginary calendar in his mind. “Next month. Why?”
Despite all the debauchery you’ve subjected each other to in a single night, your face still flushes as you consider what you’re about to ask him. Wonwoo smiles at that. Cute.
“How do you feel about flying to Jeju with me so I can introduce you to my family?” you ask shyly, gulping with a nervous laugh. “I totally get it if your management won’t allow it though. It’s hard to keep the media off your back when you’re so famous and—”
He doesn’t do this often, but Wonwoo shuts you up with a firm kiss.
“What are you talking about?” he murmurs, caressing your face tenderly. “Of course I want to meet them.”
When your eyes light up at his confirmation, Wonwoo swears that he couldn’t be more in love.
Me [11:23]: hae, i’ve got good news~
Haewon 🪷 [11:24]: You’re bringing Mingyu with you to Jeju so we can get married?
Me [11:26]: very funny
Me [11:26]: not to spoil your delusions or anything but i’m bringing my boyfriend
Haewon 🪷 [11:30]: Omg…
Haewon 🪷 [11:30]: Rudeness aside, is it the same guy from before?
Me [11:31]: yep
Haewon 🪷 [11:32]: AAAAAAAAA
Haewon 🪷 [11:32]: I can’t wait to meet him!
Haewon 🪷 [11:34]: He better be treating you right or I’ll drop kick him off Jusangjeollidae
Me [11:40]: you’ve already met him though~
Haewon 🪷 [11:41]: ?
Haewon 🪷 [11:45]: Unnie, what do you mean…
Haewon 🪷 [12:32]: Hey!!!!
⟢ end notes: if you've made it til the end, congrats! this is the last of the doting on you! series (for now~) and i really hope you enjoyed reading through it as much as i enjoyed writing it!! special thanks to all the friends that read through this for me T T i wouldn't have done it without any of you ueueue
and to everyone that has been patiently waiting for me to put up the last installment for the series, thank you for waiting <3 i hope you guys continue to support me with my future work as well!
this is part of the doting on you! series.
#seventeen smut#wonwoo smut#svthub#seventeen fanfic#wonwoo fanfic#wonwoo#lovelyhan#full length fic 📚
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How It's Done – Oneshot Version
Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Aviator!Reader
Originally posted by unicornships
Summary: “Like me? I didn’t even think you wanted me as a squadmate, let alone–” you stop speaking, but only because Hangman cuts his eyes sharply away from you to glare out at the ocean.
“Well, I do.” He says kind of indignantly, all things considered, and eyes you almost sourly. “You can just say no if you don’t–”
“–No, I do!” you quickly cut him off, because at the end of it all, you’re a little too much of a hopeless romantic to let this moment pass you by.
Warnings: erm maybe just some references to sex? jake being jake? language? minions. big warning for minions xD
Notes: Originally I intended this to be a two-parter series, but I wanted to change how it went, so I rewrote the parts I didn't like and made the entire thing into a oneshot instead!!! This fic will replace the 'part one' already on my blog, but I will keep this part up, linked at the very bottom of my masterlist! thank you everyone for being so patient! Thank you @hangmanssunnies, my love my biggest support <3
Words: 11.6k!
“Well, I’ll be damned…”
You pinch your eyes shut and steel yourself at the sound of the all too familiar Texan drawl, hanging on to the hope that perhaps he isn’t talking to you. You’re out of luck though, and moments later Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin slides into the open space next to you at the bar, already posed in a casual lean as he looks you up and down appraisingly.
It makes your teeth grind.
It makes your face hot.
“If it isn’t Mirage. Would have invited you to play with us if I’d known you were here earlier…” Hangman cocks his head, and his lips tip up in an infuriatingly perfect smile. “But one can never really be sure if you’re around or not… and that's before you get in a cockpit,” he grins, but when you meet his eye at last, he looks away from you, toward Penny who seems to approach in the nick of time, saving you from needing to respond.
You blink down at your drink, and finish it quickly, unnerved by what you think might have just been a compliment of sorts from Hangman. You’d been stationed together previously, though you weren’t friends, so you’d been expecting something a little more acidic in nature. You’d heard him interact with other aviators, knew he liked to push and poke them, usually got away with it too. For some reason though, he’d never really gone there with you and frankly you’ve always just chalked it up to not being worth his time. In fact, you’re pretty sure the only times you’d ever actually spoken had been in the sky. To be completely honest, you’re more than a little surprised that he remembers you at all.
You didn’t exactly go out of your way to stand out…
You were naturally quiet, which wasn’t helped by your social anxiety, resulting in most people describing you as extremely shy. They wouldn’t be wrong, you suppose, you did tend to keep to yourself, the idea of having too many eyes on you all but unbearable to you. But if you’d thought a roomful of people singing happy birthday to you was bad, somehow being under the unwavering stare of Hangman is approximately one thousand times worse.
“Penny, my dear… I’ll have,” he stops to glance pointedly down at your now finished beer, adjusts his stance to lean even more and unwittingly makes the muscles in his bicep bulge.
“Five more on the Old Timer,” Hangman says, nodding to the man who sits on the other side of the bar.
Internally you blanch, but externally, you say nothing and give even less away, feeling a little ping of satisfaction that apparently, you know something Hangman doesn’t. Before he’d come along, you’d been carefully watching the interaction between Penny and Captain Mitchell. You’d never met the man before, but you knew how to read military insignia, which at this point, was more than you could say for Hangman, who dismisses him quickly.
You wonder if Monday morning you’ll be able to work up the nerve to tease him about it.
You’re distracted from your thoughts when Penny returns with the requested drinks. You had no real intentions of going and hanging out with Hangman and the others, but before you can excuse yourself, your empty beer is smoothly plucked from your hands, replaced quickly with a brand new one.
“Help me carry these back?” Hangman asks then, jerking his head in the vague direction of the pool table. You frown when he immediately takes off walking, not actually letting you help him at all, all four beers still slotted between his fingers. You find yourself following him anyway, as if he’d placed some kind of spell over you.
Hangman stops ahead of you at the ancient jukebox, looking back over his shoulder at you, nodding in a pleased manner when he sees you trailing behind. He waits for you, gaze never leaving your form, even as he nods to the space next to him. You awkwardly step up to the spot opposite to him, and look past the glass and at the selection inside. Hangman, once more, takes up a lean, this time against the rickety machine.
“Would you be so kind as to select track number…” he trails off as he checks the list of songs, but quickly flicks his gaze back to you, and smiles bright, tauntingly, again. “Eighty-Six?” he asks, but it's barely a question. You nod, and swallow, shifting from holding your beer with two hands to holding it with just one. You carefully tap the chunky ‘eight’ and ‘six’ keys as he watches. The machine’s little analogue screen confirms that your song is next up, and nervously, you look back up at Hangman, horrified to find he’s just been staring at your face for the past however long.
“S’been a while, Mirage.” He drawls, making you blink rapidly and look away.
“Has it?” Is all you can manage meekly in reply, surprised when he lets out a genuine sounding laugh. He hums warmly, and you practically feel it in your chest.
“And yet,” he lifts hand, two beers held expertly between his fingers, but he extends it to tap your nose, almost making you almost flinch.
“You haven’t changed at all.” Hangman grins Cheshire-like down at you, before his eyes narrow ever so slightly, and he leans in even closer while flicking his eyes up and down your form again.
“I don’t bite you know,” he tells you, his voice sounding serious, but his somberness lasts mere seconds.
“Well, not unless you ask me to first, sweetheart,” he winks and his smile grows large as your eyes grow wide and you splutter, flustered.
Your face grows hot with slight embarrassment, a wave of inner resentment at his teasing washing through you.
Hangman laughs, seemingly bored with you now, and he turns to walk back toward the pool tables. Without even looking, he beckons you to follow with one finger on his still occupied hands. For a moment your pique prevents you from doing so, certain that if you were to dip into the crowd now, he’d not care enough to seek you out again, let alone notice you were missing.
You know he didn’t mean it, you know his flirting is just to get a rise, but you also know that he’d never do it to Phoenix, or Halo, and a little bit of you hates yourself for being such a marked pushover. You make the decision now that you won’t let him do it again, if you can help it.
Your eyes travel past Hangman then, towards the pool tables where you can now see another figure has joined the other gathered aviators, and for the first time all evening, you don’t feel nervous to go join them.
You follow after Hangman, but quickly diverge from his path, cutting around a gathered group of Navy personnel to get there faster. As you approach, you take a moment to shake off any lingering anxiety, before gently laying a hand on the faded Hawaiian shirt in front of you, doing your best to keep yourself from bouncing on your heels.
Rooster half looks ready to wave off whoever is trying to get his attention, but when his shaded eyes land on you, he spins his whole body to face you, grinning widely in unguarded excitement as he gathers you up in his arms.
“Miri!” he exclaims warmly, and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of you when he briefly lifts you off the ground.
“I was just about to ask Phoenix if she’d seen you yet.” Rooster informs you.
“Seen who?” Phoenix steps around him, frowning as she quickly glances you over, though it disappears quickly.
“Yeah, that about tracks…” Rooster mutters mostly to himself.
“Nat, this is Mirage, you know her right?” Rooster introduces the two of you, and while neither of you make to shake hands, you only feel friendly energy radiate off the other woman, even as she openly looks you over now, nodding at Rooster’s words.
“Right, I have heard about you… I guess there's no real mystery behind your callsign… I didn’t even realise you were here… Sorry,” she tells you bluntly, but you appreciate her straightforwardness.
“They said ‘Wallflower’ was too long.” You joke lightly, and the other woman smiles. A moment passes between you, and you get the distinct feeling that Phoenix has become determined to never let you go unnoticed in her presence again.
You aren’t sure just yet if you appreciate that, but you are sure that you’ve just made a friend.
“Mirage?” Another voice joins then and you look to your left, smiling again when you see another familiar face.
“Bob!” you move to embrace him too, not seeing the look shared between Phoenix and Payback who watch you in surprise.
“Huh. Figures.”
-
Neither you or Hangman have moved since Rooster and Mav went down. The rest of Dagger had returned an hour ago, mission complete. There was no reason for either of you to be on standby.
And yet.
When the call came through that Dagger Two had been hit, both you and Hangman had separately requested to be launched, to help, but you’d been denied.
As a rule, you made yourself easy to work with, even if those around you were less compliant, and you’d experienced plenty of that, flying alongside Hangman the past few weeks. Whether it was him leaving you to get shot down in training, or refusing to fly as a team during simulations. And yet, despite his habit of ‘hanging you out to dry’ being the reason behind his callsign, deep down, you’ve never once doubted flying alongside him in the real thing like the others seemed to.
You’re glad for that lack of hesitation now, glad that it only takes a single moment of eye contact from across the tarmac for the two of you to understand one another perfectly. Glad that when you got word that somehow, Rooster was supersonic again, you already know his answer before you even ask.
“Hangman? Hondo’s cleared us for take off with the ground crew, against orders. You with me?” you ask quietly, looking over at your wingman, knowing that when you return you’ll most certainly be court marshalled, but unable to sit and do nothing any longer.
“To hell and back, Mirage,” comes his immediate reply.
You see him move in sync with you, both of your canopy’s lowering at the same time.
You ignore the panicked voices ordering you to stand down, long enough for Hondo and the others to get you on the catapult, and by then it’s too late.
In two seconds you’re propelled from zero to over a hundred and sixty, and in your ears you hear Hangman right behind you.
-
“Do you want to get a coffee with me?” The question makes you jump, your drink almost sloshing everywhere. The sudden voice, as well as the person it belonged to, takes you completely by surprise, but you’re thankful he doesn’t draw attention to your startling.
Up until moments ago, you’d been peacefully watching the ocean toss and turn, burying your feet in the damp sand and thinking about what you were going to do with your upcoming two weeks of post-mission leave.
Most of Dagger were a little further up the shore, a bonfire crackling away, although you weren’t the only one to have splintered off. Mav and Rooster were currently standing in the shallows talking, and you think Halo and Phoenix have moved to sit apart from the others as well. You had managed to sneak away easily enough, content to just sit on your own for a while, though your efforts appear to have been mostly in vain, if the man now plopped in the sand beside you is any indicator.
You blink at each other.
“What?!” you blurt out dumbly, not completely certain you really understood what he’d said. Hangman’s lips press into a thin line, and he looks away from you, linking his hands together around his knees, and staring out at the rolling waves.
“Coffee. Would you like to get one with me?” He repeats, sounding only a smidge impatient, but it still doesn't clear up much for you.
“I… No, I heard you the first time… I… I just don’t understand… why?”
Over the past three weeks you’ve been forced more out of your shell than you ever have before. It was torture. It was wonderful.
Part of you pats yourself on the back for being able to ask him so starightly, but another part of you slaps yourself in the face for questioning him.
Hangman turns to look at you apprehensively.
“Are you asking why coffee or why am I asking you?” He speaks slowly and carefully, his face blank and devoid of any hint he was teasing, though you think he might be anyway.
“Why… Why are you asking me?” You push, shuffling your feet in the sand, drawing his attention for a moment. He looks back at your face and frowns slightly, cocking his head.
“Because I like you? And that is usually what somebody does when they like someone. Ask them.” He answers, and this time you definitely get the impression he’s politely trying not to laugh, but for once, you don’t feel like you’re on the outside of the joke.
Still, you find yourself taken somewhat aback at his confession, admitted so easily and freely, as if it shouldn’t come as a surprise to you, which confuses you.
“Like me? I didn’t even think you wanted me as a squadmate, let alone–” you stop speaking, but only because Hangman cuts his eyes sharply away from you to glare out at the ocean.
“Well, I do.” He says kind of indignantly, all things considered, and eyes you almost sourly. “You can just say no if you don’t–”
“–No, I do!” you quickly cut him off, because at the end of it all, you’re a little too much of a hopeless romantic to let this moment pass you by. Especially when for the past three weeks you haven't been able to get rid of the odd heart skips you got whenever Hangman acknowledged your presence at all.
And besides, you weren’t blind.
Hangman was ridiculously pretty, and not anywhere near as much of an asshole as he wanted people to believe.
He looks at you blankly for a moment, processing your words, before his face breaks out in a smile. It isn’t one of his usual smirks or tauntingly pearly grins, though. It’s softer, sweeter, and you stare mesmerised as he looks away from you again quickly, and down at his linked hands, nodding.
Two days pass, and even when you’re sitting across from him in a small, niche little coffee shop you had no idea existed, you feel like you’re in a dream.
You’ve never seen Hangman out of uniform, you realise, and it’s a whole new experience you’re forced quickly to process when he stands to go get your drinks.
Dark jeans, white shirt, casual jacket. It’s a simple outfit, but goddamn does he make it look good. Nervously you have to wonder if your white and blue sundress, sneakers and bomber jacket were having the same effect on him, though you highly doubt it.
He returns quickly, attentively, placing both your coffees down, before folding himself into his chair once more. You both look at each other awkwardly before you distract yourself by taking a sip of your coffee. Hangman seems to do the same, but instead of drinking, he begins tearing into several little sugar packets, and emptying them into his coffee foam.
You huff out a tiny laugh before you can stop yourself, and his eyes quickly snap to you.
“What?” he asks defensively, but the corners of his mouth twitch.
“I just… I guess I never figured you for a sweet coffee kinda guy…”
“Oh, and why is that?” his twitching lips turn into a full smirk, but it isn’t his usual Hangman smirk. You chew on the inside of your lip, and sip your coffee once more before answering.
“I’m not sure. I guess you just don’t seem like the type of guy who…” you trail off, unsure of what exactly you’re trying to say and even more; how to say it.
“Listen, I may have rippling, glistening abdominals, but I have a sweet tooth,” he says, putting on the defensiveness now, leaning toward you and pointing at himself. You pinch your brows together and purse your lips, nodding vehemently.
“I know how to have fun,” he tells you, tipping a third sugar into his coffee.
“Of that I don’t really doubt, Hangman,” you say, but his gaze snaps back to you again, almost sharply this time.
“Jake.” he corrects you.
You pause.
Of course, you knew his first name, but you’re fairly certain you’ve never once used it. Hangman has just always been, well, Hangman. But you weren’t in a cockpit right now, he’d asked you out, this wasn’t the time and place for callsigns. He wasn’t Hangman, and you weren’t Mirage.
“Jake,” you say slowly, carefully, as if he’ll tell you any moment he’s just kidding around. But he doesn’t.
“Miri,” he replies, slow like you, but softer, and it’s silly, but it sounds so nice coming from him. You shake your head and swallow.
“Jake, if you don’t like coffee, why did you ask me out for one?” you ask him, watching as he blinks slowly at you, before his gaze slowly drops to the latte in front of him.
“If I asked you for a drink, you might’ve got the wrong idea,” he starts, speaking carefully. “If I asked you for dinner, it could be too formal, too awkward–”
“–It’s already awkward,” you point out, making him grimace slightly, so you shrug.
“Coffee just seemed like– I just wanted to–” he cuts himself off and drops both hands to the table.
“Look– I just didn’t want there to be any misunderstanding about what this was. I like you. I know you like coffee.” Jake admits all in a flurry, his voice quiet, and his eyes flickering around as he speaks.
For as long as you’ve known him, you’ve never seen Jake unable to maintain eye contact, actually it seemed to be something he took immense pride in, and it always made you slightly uncomfortable, but right now he appears completely incapable, and it's not a side of Hangman you’ve ever seen before. You realise you might be meeting Jake properly for the first time.
You decide to let him off easy, with all the newfound courage Dagger had been feeding into you the past few weeks, and you change the subject.
“You know, when you came up to me at the Hard Deck that first night, I was kinda surprised you remembered me at all,” you say slowly, sipping your coffee and eying him evenly. Jake frowns then, but it smooths out into a cool grin, and he leans back in his chair, cocking his head.
“Are you kidding? I’m always clocking possible threats.” he tells you, making you cough lightly.
“How am I a threat to you?!” you ask in disbelief.
“Oh, I could name a few,” Jake teases, nodding at you, but flicking his eyes away, almost making a show of clocking an incoming group of customers behind you.
You weren’t clueless, you knew you were a part of Dagger for a reason. You were damn good at your job, but still, Jake was Hangman, not only was he an aviator you respected, he was an aviator with very high personal standards, and for him to see you as comparable to him… well truthfully, you find yourself rather humbled.
And then flustered, at his clear unabashed flirting.
“I always thought you flirting was just you messing with me,” you admit, and he grins wider.
“Can’t it be both?” he asks, leaning forward again, and clasping his hands together. He seems to have no problem maintaining eye contact now, you note. When you cold-stare him, he simply shrugs.
“You’re cute when you get all flustered and nervous, what can I say?”
“Literally anything else.” You grumble back.
You finish your coffee and push the cup to the side, crossing your arms on the table and leaning forward like he was. Jake mimics you, pushing his own coffee away, clearly with no intention to start, let alone finish it. You aren’t as good as him with eye contact though, no matter how much you’d come out of your shell, so you take the opportunity to glance sideways out the window, only for your gaze to catch on something.
Your heart thumps loudly for a moment in your ears, and you wonder briefly if you should act on the thoughts popping around your brain right now, or if you should just stay put.
You lean forward even more, and flick your eyes back to Jake who is staring at you curiously.
“Hey, I have an idea…” you start, chewing on the inside of your lip, before standing up. You only hesitate a little before offering your hand.
“You with me?” you ask without thinking, the words the same as the ones you ask time and again to your wingmen while in flight manoeuvres. Jake stares up at you for a moment, before he too stands, your heart skipping when he takes your hand. With a tiny squeeze you almost don’t notice, Jake grins, and nods.
-
“Oh, hey! Stop! That’s not fair!” You elbow Jake in the side, but it’s already too late. The hand he’d shot out to block your light gun had done its job, and where you’d previously been neck in neck for score on the dual Time Crisis cabinet, Jake’s character was now cheering in victory, while your screen was asking you to insert more coins and try again.
Jake chortles and you both slot your plastic guns back into their plastic holsters at the front of the machine.
“We never agreed to no interference,” he says proudly, and you sock him in the arm only half as hard as you can.
“I didn’t think it needed to be said!” you exclaim pointedly. Jake grins down at you, and collects his tickets.
“Quit complaining, all these are gonna go towards whatever stuffed bear or whatever the hell you want anyway.” He rolls his eyes, and gestures to the shoddy ‘rewards’ counter of the arcade you’d spotted from the coffee shop.
“I want the Minion.” You state firmly after glancing at the redemption counter for three seconds, and spotting the big ugly yellow creature on the top shelf. Jake sighs in a put-upon manner and shakes his head.
“See, this is how you know I really like you. I’m willing to ignore that,” he says, and you actually think he might be serious this time. You grin up at him as he takes your elbow, and begins leading you toward the back of the room.
“What are you going to cheat me out of kicking your ass at this time?” you glance around you, goosebumps trailing up and down your arm as Jake lets his hand slide from around your elbow, down your forearm and into your hand, which he squeezes as if in warning.
“I didn’t cheat, I simply used black ops tactics,” he says, narrowing his eyes at you. You purse your lips at him and narrow your own eyes back.
“Cheat.” you say again, pronouncing each syllable deliberately.
You come to a stop then, and you look up at the old photo booth machine. Jake pulls out a fistfull of tickets, squinting his eyes at the label with instructions, before looking back over at the redemption counter. He seems to run some numbers before he looks back down at you with a grin, and waves the strings of crumpled tickets.
“My cheating means we can use the booth, and still have enough for a Kevin plush, so I don’t wanna hear no more complaining outta you,” he waggles a finger in front of your nose, and you blink up at him sheepishly.
“Jake– I don’t really want the Minion…” you say, before your voice turns suspicious. “Anyway, how do you know which one is Kevin?!” you lift an eyebrow, only for Jake to roll his eyes and push you into the curtained booth.
You orient yourself in the tiny enclosed space, looking around you as Jake takes a moment to feed several lines of win-tickets into the machine before he follows you. He’s forced to duck down real low, making the space even smaller, and you both stare for a moment at the small seat barely big enough for one person, let alone two.
“Well, either you can sit on my lap, or I can sit on yours, darlin’, but I know which one I’d prefer.” Jake intones lowly, and for the first time in an hour or so, you feel yourself get all flustered again. Honestly, you’d kind of forgotten about the explicitly romantic tone of this meeting until now, and more than that, your stomach begins to flip and flop like the first time you’d gotten in a jet when he eases past you and drops himself onto the bench before patting his thighs.
“Jake, maybe if you just move over a litt–”
“No can do, honey,” and he’s not even trying to tease you, he demonstrates the spread of his legs, and the tight fit into the booth, before looking back up at you expectantly again.
“Okay… Okay…” you say more for your own sanity than anything else, and turn, quickly perching yourself on his leg before you can really think too hard about what you're doing.
Your efforts are for naught though, because the moment you’re sat down, Jake’s hands are tugging you against him further, sitting you more comfortably on the thick expanse of his thigh, and you barely repress the noise that nearly escapes you at the feeling of his fingers digging into your hips.
“There we go, sweetheart,” he says softly, almost to himself, and moves his hands to wrap around you completely. If he notices your little noise, which by his self satisfied smirk he definitely has, he thankfully chooses not to say anything. Your face grows warm, not only at the hold he has on you but at the pet name too.
“Did you just call me ‘sweetheart’?” you ask, sounding half bewildered, half incredulous, forgetting for a moment where exactly you were and why. As you look over your shoulder at the man behind you, Jake stares back, his smirk still in place even as his eyes seem to search your face, his own expression mostly unreadable.
“Would you prefer ‘honey’?” he almost purrs, his voice distinctly amused, but you notice that he doesn’t back down, doesn’t apologise or step back.
It makes your stomach twist up in knots. It makes your heartbeat skip like a record.
You turn away from him, shake your head.
“It’s fine,” you tell him bashfully, wanting to grumble slightly when against your back you sense what you think is him puffing his chest a little. Quickly, you add: “Not at work, though…”
Jake chortles, but as you peek over your shoulder to look at him again, he’s relenting, his smirk gone and replaced with a far softer smile as he nods.
“Not at work, though.” he repeats lowly in confirmation, almost making you jump when he shifts one hand to steady you around the waist, his other reaching out to begin fiddling with the controls on the lit up screen in front of you.
“Alright, let's get this show on the road shall we?”
By the time you’re exiting the tiny cubicle, Jake’s hands still attached to your hips as he follows you out, you’re both laughing quietly to yourselves. You’re amazed to find just how much Jake can affect you, either setting you at complete ease or sending you into a tizzy, depending on what he’s said or done. Usually you wouldn’t be surprised by other people’s effects on you, you were jumpy and anxious by nature, but it was rare that somebody who put you on edge as much as Jake did, could also give you such comfort.
When he detaches his hands from your sides at last to survey the sheets of photos spat out by the booth, you marvel at how much you start to miss the contact. With all the subtlety you can muster, you inch closer to him, under the guise of getting a look at the photos as well, though really, you’re only hoping that you might prompt him into reaching out for you again.
Jake chortles and points at a set of two pictures. In one, you’re both grinning madly, pulling silly faces, and in the other, you’re wearing softer smiles, and you notice now, that Jake had pushed his face a little closer to yours. It makes heat rise in your cheeks, not just at the seeming intimacy of the photo, but truthfully, of how much you like seeing the two of you like that.
“You won’t mind if I keep these, will ya?” Jake asks, looking over at you. You simply shake your head, and he grins a little wider, carefully tearing off the two pictures before pulling out his wallet and tucking them inside, for sake keeping, you assume.
Jake lets you keep the rest, and absently, you fold them into the zipper in your purse, too distracted by the fact that he does indeed take your hand again, before quickly releasing it to instead wrap his arm over your shoulder. You can’t stop yourself from smiling a little as you blink dumbly up at him, and he grins down at you, ducking his face even closer to yours.
“Now sweetheart, I believe I was instructed to win you a minion plush.”
-
You try to avoid Phoenix’s hard stare, and focus on wiping down your helmet.
“You’re acting weird,” she finally announces, still managing to make you jump despite your anticipation. You then immediately proceed to do yourself exactly zero favours, proving her point by refusing to look up at her, choosing to instead hurriedly continue with your current task.
“What? No I’m not. I’m fine. You’re being weird,” you argue, wincing at your clearly abysmal attempts at behaving like a normal adult human. You start re-cleaning the pristine surface of your helmet, your nerves conjuring imperfections you logically know don’t exit.
Just before you completely lose yourself down the spiral of unhealthy compulsive behaviours, A hand, Nat’s hand, stops your own. Tugging the cloth out of your hands and taking your helmet away from you, she places it down on the workbench you stand on opposite sides of. Chewing your lip, you at last meet her eye.
“Miri, it’s okay to have a crush–”
“–I don’t have a crush!” You blurt out both far too quickly to be believable, as well as in sheer panic. Your face grows immediately hot, and you can tell Phoenix is trying not to laugh at the show you’re putting on so poorly. Her lips twitch, but her expression softens from amusement into something softer, mixed with traces of pity. Just when you’re starting to debate the pros and cons of sprinting out of the room, getting in your jet, and then flying away never to be seen again, she relents, releasing you from her eye contact and making herself busy as she tidies up bits and bobs littering the workbench.
You swallow thickly, and stay watching her, your heart rate only spiking higher as your anxiety builds once more at her sudden apparent indifference. You follow her movements without moving an inch, sharply aware that not only was she still very much focused solely on scrutinising you, but even more mortifyingly, that this conversation was far from being over.
“Nat,” you say with surprisingly more strudiness than you believed possible, pausing to swallow the dryness in your mouth. “I don’t have a crush, okay?” You wait for her to look back over at you, nothing but disbelief rolling off of her faux-casualty, giving you a bullshit shrug and a smile.
“Okay.” she says. You had hoped that would be enough, but you should have known better. You clear your throat again.
“Nat,” you say, only making yourself louder, as if that was a sign of nothing going on. She looks up at you somewhat blankly. You know you’re totally screwed already as her eyes dip to watch your finger begin quickly tapping on the bench before you with barely any acknowledgement from yourself. “There’s nothing weird going on,” you say, pleading with your voice and face and every atom of your being that she drops it.
She drops something, unfortunately it’s not the subject though, but you still feel some semblance of stress leaving your body as her fake lack of care dissolves, and she leans back to rest against the cabinet behind her. She crosses her arms and shrugs again while letting out a soft, pitying sigh, which this time doesn’t raise your non-existent heckles as much as it had when it first showed its face.
You stare at one another, at what you think is an impasse and wordless agreement to now never talk of this episode in your friendship ever again, but once again, you should have known better.
“If it’s any consolation, I think he has a crush on you too, so it's not like it’s a total waste of energy… despite all evidence to the contrary,” She says conversationally at first, before muttering out the last part under her breath.
“He doesn’t,” you state with so much certainty you almost forget for a moment that it’s not even a little bit true. Instead, crossing your arms too, you feel like a middle schooler having a much too serious fight with her friend at lunch. “We’ve just become closer, like all of the squad have. You’re just noticing it cause you want to!” you’re a little taken aback by the sound logic of your own reasoning, all points earned to your side then immediately becoming forfeit when you can’t help yourself from stupidly continuing to speak. “Why? Has he said something?!”
Your outburst of near-giddy excitement destroys all chances of you walking this back, and you find yourself with only one option left available. But your prior readiness to exit out of this failed interaction at roughly 300 kts/min becomes soberingly not so fun to fantasise about when you sheepishly remember the current charges against you, for the theft of the $70 million dollar military aircraft you’d technically stolen when you and Jake had taken a joy ride to pick up Mav and Rooster.
You're snapped back into the present as Natasha Trace regards you unreadably and slowly lifts one perfect eyebrow at you. You cover your face and hang your head, you reason with your now permanently mortified brain that if you just admitted to the thing she already believed to be true, she’d stop looking any closer, possibly finding out something actually secret.
It helps that your embarrassment for the flurry of extremely obvious questions is very real, and you groan into your palms. You hear before you see Phoenix laugh, listening to her chortle at your outing yourself, but you notice that he demeanour is warmer now, and she pushes herself up to sit on the top of the bench between you, crossing her legs.
“He’s not said a thing, but he doesn’t need to,” she tells you, seemingly glad to just be able to share her findings and observations, which you uncomfortably realise have been going on for a lot longer than you realised.
“It's what he’s not saying,” she explains, and you blink up at her in genuine curiosity.
“Huh?”
Phoenix turns her gaze upward as she thinks.
“He doesn’t make fun of you… or snipe at you, not really,” she begins, resting her head in her hand. “To be honest when we first met, I was expecting to defend you. You’re a good pilot, a great one, but Hangman isn’t exactly known for recognising that in others…”
You frown up at her, unsure of anything to say to abate her suspicions.
She’s not exactly wrong, even when the two of you were first stationed together, he’d never poked fun at you, never really called you out. To be fair, he hadn’t really acknowledged your presence at all, but these days you knew that was more to do with the fact that all this time, Hangman had liked you, had seen you were shy, and didn’t like crowds, and as you’d found out recently, often made more of a spectacle of himself to draw attention away from you.
You have to stop yourself from smiling dreamily at the thought of him.
“And I mean, he disobeyed direct orders for you, he knew what you were doing, and he went with you anyway… I’m just saying Miri, I don’t think you’d be disappointed if you were to say something–”
You quickly cut her off.
“I’m not saying anything to him!”
At last, given your already clear admittance of your supposed ‘crush’, Phoenix relents, holding up her hands and shrugging.
“Just think about it alright? It’s even sort of… cute, in a weird, Hangman-y way.”
You grumble at her, but thankfully she doesn’t bring it up again for the rest of the afternoon. Still, you leave the workshop with a sparkling helmet, cleaner than you think it ever has been, and with a pressing matter to relay to your boyfriend, most of which involves playing it much, much cooler in front of Phoenix the next time you all hang out.
-
You know you’ve made some personal growth when you answer the door in your matching Star Wars X-Wing PJ’s and slippers, and aren’t immediately mortified.
Jake stands there, already grinning back at you, and looking like a greek god sent to earth in his dark jeans and plain white shirt.
“Red Leader Mirage, your rescuer has arrived!” he announces, doing what you judge to be a surprising spot-on impression of Lt. Porkins from Star Wars, shooting a lazily salute down at slippers
Unfortunately, you aren’t given the chance to ask him more about his perfect Red Six however, as he’s almost immediately pushing away from where he’d been leaning against the side of your door, posing for your perusal you assume, and holds out a brown paper bag for you to take. You swipe it, and shoot him a thankful smile.
“Thank you, Jake, really…” you side-step his self-congratulatory jokes, but he doesn’t seem phased, simply shrugging, and taking a step closer to you, letting one hand rest gently on your shoulder, before he hooks it and tugs you into him.
You’d started getting all-too familiar with just how physically attentive Jake seemed to be, something you would never have guessed about him several weeks ago, but had come to terms with now. Clingy was never a word you would have used to describe him before. He hugs you briefly, then pulls back to look down at you, his brow furrowed and his expression filled with genuine concern, another thing you’d been getting more familiar with.
“How’re you feeling?” he asks, inviting himself in by walking you backwards and kicking your door closed lightly behind him. You’d come not to mind this sort of thing either, but mostly because you know if you asked him to leave again, he would, no questions asked. That was another new thing you’d been learning about Jake Seresin.
In comparison to how Hangman could be up in the sky, Jake was entirely understanding, one hundred percent supportive, and almost a little too observant when it came to your particular anxieties. It meant he often knew without you saying when to push you, and when to not, and on the occasion that you did need to say, he always respected those boundaries.
It was starting to make you nervous, how much you were growing to like him.
“Cramps are kicking my ass, but other than that, mostly fine. Thank you for these,” you try again, hoping that he really understands just how much you appreciate him coming over for you tonight. Never in your life would you have imagined feeling comfortable enough to ask Hangman to stop by the pharmacy and pick you up sanitary products, and never would you have imagined he’d make no issue of it.
“Sure,” he says, again with a shrug. “You want me to head out?” he asks then, tipping his head back at your door, even as he inches his face closer to yours, brushing his nose tip against yours. Your lips quirk, then break out into a full smile when he grins before dipping low enough to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Your stomach somersaults and pulls at least ten G’s for sure as he continues to brush his lips against yours teasingly.
This hadn’t taken much getting used to at all. Jake was a good kisser, and had proved it after your second date, almost in the exact place you were now, both his hands cupping your cheeks and his lips full on yours, hungry and insistent. That had been almost four weeks ago now, but after his hands had tugged your hips flush to his, you’d quickly put the breaks on.
You were still slightly uncertain about going further with Jake so soon. The fact was, you worked together in a high impact, high stress job, and if anything should happen between you, it would be easier to keep things professional if you took it slow
Jake had, to your slight surprise, though you aren't sure exactly what you were expecting, nodded slowly and taken a step back. He’d told you that the only thing he wanted more than you, was for you to want him too. You’d had to explain that your position wasn’t because you didn’t want him, which had led to more making out, but he hadn’t pushed to go further and he’d left that night with the affirmation that however long you wanted to wait was alright by him.
“No, you can stay,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around his neck to stop him from pulling away too much as you try not to full-on pout. Jake smiles against your lips and presses into you further, moving to push you against the wall, where he crowds your space entirely and stops teasing you, capturing your lips with his at last.
You’re about to experimentally slide your hand up his shirt, a thought that had been lingering in your mind more and more these past few days, but your kiss is over too soon, and he pulls back, leaving you breathless.
“Weren’t you waiting for me, so you could do chores?” he prompts, nearly making you grumble. Instead you nod, and gently push back against him, heading towards your bedroom just down the main hall.
“You can wait in here if you like,” you suggest, feeling a little nervous about the idea, but it was something you’d been thinking about for a while now. Even if you and Jake weren’t sleeping together, that didn’t mean the two of you couldn’t sleep together, did it? It was something you’d wanted, specifically with him, but not really something you’d ever experienced before. You were ready to move out of these early stages of your relationship, eager to push yourself and your limits just a little, so you could settle into something more comfortable with Jake, something where you weren’t always a little surprised when he touched you, or called you by one of his innumerable pet names.
Jake shoves his hands in his pockets and nods, clearly thinking through what this invitation could mean as he follows you quietly.
“Um, I feel like I should say ‘excuse the mess’, but you know–” you cut yourself off and gesture around your bedroom when you both have entered. Jake snorts.
“Well that’s what being in the Navy gets you. I won’t judge if you say it anyway,” he tells you lightly, and you scoff.
“Yes you will!” you insist, and are met with a confident, familiar cheshire-grin.
“Mhm, but only a little. Have you changed your mind, honey?” he steps toward you again then, almost closing the distance in one stride, his hands still shoved in his pockets, but his gaze locked intently on you in a way you haven’t felt since that second date. Your heart beats so loudly you’re sure he must be able to hear, but he doesn’t mention it, just waits for you, crowding your space again.
“Oh, I– No… not… I didn’t… I’m sorry…”
The moment you speak Jake is stepping back, pulling his hands from his pockets to hold them up, his expression losing the intensity again.
“No need to apologise, my mistake.” Jake’s words are sincere, but he looks away from you.
You let out a little sigh.
“It’s just so soon, and with the trial–”
“–You don’t have to explain yourself, honey,” Jake pulls his hands from his pockets at last and places them at your waist, drawing you in. You fall quiet as he lowers his face to yours, though he teases you again by not kissing you, simply looking you over, and then smirking when you pout. “You want it when you want it, and that’s when I want it, okay?”
He makes you nod, before he at last lowers his lips to meet yours and kisses you, slow and sweet. You finally get the chance to test the waters a little, easing your hand carefully underneath the back of his shirt, making you giggle against his mouth when he jumps slightly at the feel of your skin on his. Jake doesn’t say or do anything about it though, thankfully just letting you explore a little as he tips your head back further to deepen your kiss, and you brush your fingers up his spine.
After a short while of this, he must feel the urge to tease you again, because with little to no hesitation at all, unlike you, he slips his hands beneath your shirt, his warm palms gripping onto the bare skin just above your PJ shorts, almost making you moan. You’re glad you’re able to hold back the sound, mostly, but your own surprise doesn’t go unnoticed by the blond currently kissing you.
He only continues doing so for a short minute longer, before he’s eventually pulling back, lips pink and kiss swollen. You can’t help but frown at the parting. He squeezes your waist, and nudges your nose with his own.
“What do you want to do, honey?”
You groan at the apparent lack of making out in your future, not because you don’t think he’d agree, but mostly because you’re not quite ready to ask him for more, though a part of you senses he’s not willing to let you off the hook for those chores you’d told him about earlier.
“I need to fold this laundry,” you point past him, to your walk-in wardrobe and the basket that lies within. Jake looks over at it and lifts an eyebrow, which you choose to ignore. He nods then, and takes a step away from you, making you frown even more when his hands fall from your body.
“I’ll help,” he says, making your eyes widen, and you quickly step around him to block his path, where he is clearly about to make for your basket.
“No! Um… It’s okay, It’ll be easier if I just do it…” you trail off, wondering if you sound insane and neurotic, but Jake simply raises his hands again and nods.
“Well, what do you want me to do?” he prods, and you realise, he’s come inside thinking you want him to help with your chores.
“I was thinking… I was thinking it might just be nice for you to just… be here?” You cringe, and narrowly avoid making a face at yourself. Jake blinks at you as if he doesn’t understand.
“You want me to… sit around while you do laundry?” he asks, tone confused, but equally unimpressed. You nod. Jake shifts, then clicks his tongue. “I was not raised to let somebody work while I sit and watch, especially not my girl. My mother would tan my hide.”
You’re a little surprised by the seriousness on his face, despite the humorous inflection in his voice. You suck in a breath, mulling over how to explain to him what you had been thinking when he came inside. Jake’s eyes flicker over you for a moment before he shifts again, crossing his arms and lifting his chin at you.
“Alright sweetheart, just say what you gotta say, I can hear those cogs turning from here…”
“I… I like that you want to help me, I think that’s really sweet…”
“But…?” Jake prompts.
“I find this kinda thing hard, and I was hoping we could just try and do something… domestic…? Together?” your face goes hot at your admission, and when Jake doesn’t immediately respond you wonder if using the word ‘domestic’ was too much, too soon.
“What is ‘this kind of thing’? I get the other part honey,” again, his voice is playful, but you see the seriousness behind his eyes and it lends you even more comfort. How is he so good at this? It’s almost like he’d read your teenage diary entry all about your perfect guy… it's the sort of attention, care, and behaviour that you’ve never actually gotten from a guy you were seeing before, so you aren’t really sure how to compose yourself.
“This kind of thing,” you gesture between you and him, before clearing your throat. “I don't know what to call it– us, but–”
“–a relationship.” Jake cuts in firmly, and you pause, heart thumping. You hadn't actually had this discussion yet, but you guess you’re having it now.
“Right. I mean, I’ve been in relationships before, but they’ve never really worked out and I feel like I never get to the point with boyfriends where I feel fully comfortable, so I–” you clamp your mouth shut, both at the use of ‘boyfriend’, and at the fact you were rambling, and you’re pretty sure it's too early to start telling him about how all your prior relationships failed.
“Right. So, let me get this straight; you were going to come back in here and put your laundry away, regardless of me being here?” Jake holds up a hand as he repeats back the information.
“Yeah…”
“And you just want me to keep you company?”
You nod, and clear your throat.
“Yeah.”
Jake stares at you, a level of understanding crossing his face, before his eyes flick to your laundry behind you, then back to your face.
“... And you’re sure I can’t help you?” His resolve sounds weak, and you think he’s already made up his mind to do as you asked, but his upbringing requires him to triple check. You smile, and this time step toward him, gingerly resting your hand on his arm, which he immediately raises, and flips, sliding it so now you’re holding his hand.
Again, you can’t fathom how he got so good at this sort of thing. Your knees go wobbly.
“I have a bunch of lacy unmentionables in there, so…” you try to lighten things, but it's not a lie. Jake picks up what you’re putting down, and gives your hand a squeeze. He tips his chin at you and lifts an eyebrow.
“Now why’d you have to go and say that honey? You sure you’re certain I can’t help?” his hands slip from yours to rest at your hips again, completely bypassing your top this time and your heart stutters.
You bite your lip, and nod your head, trying not to laugh him off fully, because while that may be your instinctual nervous reaction, you didn’t want to discourage him entirely. You liked that Jake acted as if you were a pretty girl, like you were desirable, and not like the awkward dork you actually were. You didn't want him to stop doing that.
His expression turns a little softer, and he leans down, moving slowly as to give you time to process, and he presses his lips to your cheek, lingering for just a moment before he taps your sides with his fingers, then steps away.
You’re still catching your breath when he looks back at you, pointing at what looks like one corner of your bed.
“Can I?”
You nod, and gesture at the whole mattress.
“Make yourself comfortable!”
–
You can feel the pounding music of the club in your whole body. The lights flashing and dancing in different colourways in time with the music give everything around you an ever changing aura, and maybe it’s all the drinks you’ve had tonight, but in front of you, Natasha seems to glow.
Her hands grasp your forearm firmly and you giggle, uncharacteristically carefree as you almost slip again.
“Alright! Okay, let's get you seated!” she says. She’s had a few too, but not nearly as many as you, and you’re glad for it now as she steers you toward the bar and grabs a paper cup to fill with water from the nearby water station toward the end. You find yourself drinking it without prompting, but miss the taste of the fruity cocktails you’d been downing all night. “I’ll call us a cab,” she says, beginning to pull out her phone, but you hastily stop her, placing a hand on her arm and shaking your head rapidly, making the colours spin even more.
“No! My boyfriend said he’d pick us up!” you insist, ignoring the way her eyebrows shoot up, then stitch together.
“You boyfriend?” she asks, but you miss the real question behind her words, instead you simply nod, and begin to fumble around in your own purse until you find your phone. Nat watches you expectantly as you open your messages, quickly tapping ‘call' on the top icon, and pressing the phone to one ear, and your finger to the other.
It rings less than once before it connects.
“Heeyy!” you sigh in relief down the line, happy to even just hear his voice after all night going without. “Yeah, no, everything’s alright, you just said to call you when we were done!” you say in reply to his amused questioning. You look up at Nat briefly, and if you were more sober, you might’ve been able to tell that she was leaning in slightly to try and hear the voice on the other end, but you aren’t, so you don’t.
“Okay, I’ll meet you out front!” you tell him excitedly, before adding on; “Is it okay if we give Nat a ride home too?” there's a short reply, and at last you’re smiling wide and nodding, even though he can’t see you. “Okay, we’ll see you soooon!”
You hang up and stare back up at Natasha, who's giving you a funny look that you ignore. “He said he’ll be here in ten, he’s been at the sports bar in town waiting!” you tell her dreamily, like she might understand what it means to you that Jake would choose to remain only a short distance away in case you needed anything, in the knowledge that you didn’t always enjoy nights out like this.
Nat simply nods and after making you drink one more glass of water, you begin making your way through the crowds and out of the club.
The air outside is warm, but refreshing and you take in as much of it as you can, not realising how stuffy the air inside the club had been until now. It was getting late, and bars and restaurants around the club are lit up and busy, the streets all around full of people either on their way to their destination, or lingering as they talk.
It doesn’t take long for you to spot Jake’s car and he pulls up close to the curb, allowing you to beeline for the passengers side door, not realising that Natasha follows with more confusion and trepidation. Jake jumps out of the car to greet you, rounding it to quickly steady your wobbly walk with a hand on your hip, and with the other, he pulls open the car door and helps you inside, leaning in to help you buckle in, grinning even as he murmurs quietly.
“You had a good night, sweetheart?” he asks, clicking your seatbelt into place for you, making you giggle at him. You lean forward for a kiss, but he dodges you, somewhat more aware than you are of your present company, and instead rests his hand so he can squeeze your knee. Your good mood isn’t spoiled and you barely notice the dodged kiss, so you simply nod your assent to his question vehemently.
“I had a lot to drink!” you tell him, before bursting out into giggles again, the soft, sweet smile Jake gives you going unnoticed as he squeezes your leg again.
“Yes you did,” he says with clear, fond amusement, and at last moves back so he can shut your door.
Unlike you, on the other hand, Natasha may as well be sober as a judge, and she eyes Jake somewhat distrustfully as she steps closer, lifting her chin up at him as she talks.
“What’re you doing here?” she asks accusingly, making Jake cock his head at her, only half as annoyingly as he can. He gestures back at you in the front seat of his car.
“Miri called, sounded pretty hammered,” he tells her as if that explained it. Natasha narrows her eyes and crosses her arms.
“Yeah, but she said she was calling her boyfriend, what’re you doing here?” She dares him to reply with anything but the truth, however luckily for Jake, unlike most men caught in her crossfire, he’s able to brush her off with an infuriating grin.
“I guess she dialled the wrong number, do you want a lift home or not?”
At his ultimatum (however hollow it really is, he wouldn’t leave her on her own in the middle of the night), Natasha frowns darker at him, but accepts the door he opens, waiting for her to get settled before he closes it behind her and returns to the driver's side.
When Jake checks his rearview he notes in amusement that Nat has situated herself in the middle seat, giving herself a perfect view of the two of you in the front. You don’t, nor do you seem to have any weariness in the bloodhound you’ve just set upon the both of you, but if he’s honest, Jake had known from day one that the second Natasha Trace suspected anything, your little secret was over.
He drives back as normally as he can, but it's strange to him now to have you sitting right there in his passenger's seat, and not have his hand in yours, or on your thigh. It’s strange to him to be in this space where the two of you are usually so open with your affection, and have to suppress it. Jake does not like it.
The car ride home is quiet, you seem content to look out the window, the tiredness hitting you now, but every so often he and Nat make small talk about whatever football scores interested them in the past week or two, and before too long, he’s pulling up outside her home.
Looking over at you to find that you’re slumped over asleep on his window, Jake follows Natasha out of the car with a simple offer of making sure she gets in alright. The congeniality doesn’t last very long, and once they’re standing on her porch she turns to him with a frown.
“You don’t really think I’m that stupid, do you?” she asks, for once not sounding angry or scolding, but seemingly subdued, maybe even a little upset. Jake sighs and runs a hand through his hair. Looking back to his car to make sure you’re still alright, he levels his squadmate with a serious expression.
“No, I do not,” he tells her sincerely. “But it’s Miri’s choice to not want to be public yet, all I’m asking is that you respect that,” he goes on after a moment. He doesn’t really believe she would say anything, but he feels the need to get her agreement, if only for your peace of mind in the morning.
Nat hums to herself and briefly looks away to fish out her keys. Once she has them in hand, she looks up at him again, a little grin on her face this time.
“How long?” she asks. Jake rolls his eyes and can’t resist the urge to mess with her just a little.
“Few years,” he states matter of factly, waiting for her eyes to pop wide before he lets out a victorious laugh and shakes his head. “A month or two,” he admits truthfully, accepting the hard sock in the arm as Nat scoffs at him and moves to unlock her front door.
“Something, something, I’ll kick your ass if you hurt her,” she grumbles as she steps inside, immediately kicking off her shoes. Jake straightens up and gives her a mock salute.
“Yes Ma’am,” he says, chortling to himself as he receives a middle finger for his efforts and the door is closed and locked again.
Jake feels a little lighter on his walk back to his car, and when he climbs in, he leans over to carefully adjust your crooked neck and make sure your belt is still strapped properly. You wake a little, confused at first, and blink up at him in happy wonderment.
“Hey!” you mumble, like it's the first time you’ve seen him tonight. Jake chuckles and leans closer to press a kiss to your forehead.
“Let’s get you home baby.”
–
You awake the next morning with nowhere near the headache you’re expecting, but with an array of distinct memories that cause a pit to open up in your stomach. The pit then begins to growl as you register the warm, homey smell of food, and with little effort, you force yourself up and into the kitchen, where you immediately attach yourself to Jake’s bare back.
His skin is warm and feels so comfy against your cheek, and the soft little laugh he gives makes your belly flop around. He lets you stay like that for a few moments more, moving slowly but smoothly so you can move with him, and at last when whatever he’s doing with his hands is finished, he reaches around for you and rests his hands where he can.
“Did I really call you last night? While with Nat?” you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping you’d just imagined it all, but another soft chuckle lets you know you hadn’t.
“Never thought you’d be the one to let our little secret slip first. I underestimated you baby.”
You groan into his back, and try to hide your face, but before you can complain or dodge him, Jake has turned himself around, letting you instead smoosh your face in between his gloriously golden pecs, and you think things may not be so bad.
He wraps his arms around you properly, and for a moment you just stay like that. You wonder if you can convince him to come around shirtless more often, the warmth radiating off his skin feeling heavenly, not to mention he looked almost as delicious as the food he’d made. You wonder if he’d already worked out this morning, or if you can join him after breakfast.
One of Jake’s hands moves away from your back and cups the back of your head tenderly, making you mewl slightly, and you look up at him to give the attention you know he’s asking for. Jake stares down at you with a soft little grin, and readjusts himself slightly, so he’s able to drop his lips to meet yours briefly.
One kiss becomes two kisses, becoming three kisses and after that any semblance of chastity is given up on and he kisses you full and sweet, deliberately slow like he’s teasing you to ask for more, but for now you’re simply content to wash away all of last nights worries like this.
Coming up for air, Jake barely breaks apart from you, his lips still brushing yours when he speaks.
“I asked Nat not to say anything, she respects you enough to do that I think,” he says, dropping a few more soft kisses to your mouth when you crane your neck up for more. He goes no further this time, though, and leans back from you to gauge your reaction after several moments, and you force yourself to open your eyes and pout.
“It’s not that I think she’ll tell anyone…” you say to him, scrunching up your features as you recall your lack of playing it cool the first time she had brought Jake up to you. The memory makes you grumble to yourself, and you once more attempt to hide your face in his chest. Jake laughs, and makes you jump when he pokes your side.
“What is it?” he asks, like he already knows. You tell him, voice muffled in his skin, but clear enough for the details of your embarrassing inability to throw the scent off to be heard. Jake’s body shakes with more laughter as you relay the information, but instead of trying to make you stop hiding away, he simply cups the back of your head again, and holds it nearer, allowing you to wither your embarrassment away in the safety of him.
“I think we both know that the minute that woman suspected anything, it was game over,” he tells you once you’re done, still holding you close, but you feel his lips press to the top of your head sweetly, and you do your best to snuggle yourself closer.
After the bulk of your mortification has eased away, Jake makes you detach from him, but only so the two of you can eat your breakfast while it’s still hot.
“You know I don’t want to keep it quiet, like, forever, right?” you ask out of nowhere, your memories of last night replaying over in your head while you ate. Jake looks up at you and cocks his head.
“I’m happy to do whatever you’d like to do, for as long as you’d like to do it,” he says matter of factly, but despite the sweetness of his words, you can’t help but frown at him.
“No you’re not, and we both know it,” you push back, grateful for his always tender manner of going at your pace, but you’d likely never have been with him in the first place if he hadn’t thrown you out of your comfort zone that first time.
The only difference is, now you are with Jake, and you understood these things about yourself, and how they weren’t always as scary as your mind might make them seem. Jake frowns back at you, clearly ready to protest.
“I know you pretty well too, you know,” you cut him off. “I know you like PDA, and that you wish you were able to be more open when we’re out with people. I know you like to show off, and part of that includes me,” you tell him adamantly, because you know you’re right.
Jake huffs out a sigh and leans back in his chair, looking at you dead on, you know him well enough to know he’s a little annoyed at you calling him out, but you aren’t doing it to annoy him or just for the sake of starting an argument.
“Okay, so what if I do? That doesn’t change the fact that until you want something, I’m not gonna go for it,” he says, still frowning at you like he doesn’t understand what the point of talking this through is even about.
You change tack and, with your heart beat thumping a little wildly, get up from your seat and move toward him. Even in his annoyance, Jake makes room for you, pushes out his chair and wraps his arms around your waist when you seat yourself on his thigh, your own arms linking around his neck.
“Well maybe I’m giving you permission to go for it,” you say softly, quietly, because the idea still does make you incredibly nervous. But you like Jake, no scratch that, you think you’re in love with Jake, and you think he’s in love with you too, and something about that feeling for once in your life makes you want the same things he does too, including the PDA. You want him to sling his arm around your neck, you want to be able to kiss his cheek or hold his hand or whatever it is you two want to do, not just in the comfort of your own homes, but out at the Hard Deck with your friends, too.
Jake blinks up at you, like at first your words don’t even register, but then he’s tightening his hold around your waist, and grinning wolfishly up at you, all cocky and infuriating if you didn’t find it utterly charming. If you didn’t completely adore him, even this part.
“Permission granted, Lieutenant?” he asks mischievously, and you can’t stop yourself from giggling, like you’re drunk all over again.
“Permission granted, Lieutenant!”
#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake 'hangman' seresin#hangman x reader#jake 'hangman' seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin x reader#top gun maverick#jake 'hangman' seresin fanfic#jake hangman seresin#top gun fanfiction
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mune ga hachikire-sōde (my heart seems like it’s going to burst)
title mune ga hachikire-sōde (my heart seems like it’s going to burst)
pairing huang renjun x gender neutral!reader
summary you and your friends always sit at the table a couple down from mine and talk shit in madarin, which happens to be a language i’m currently learning. i’ve been eavesdropping to try and improve my listening comprehension and oh my god are you actually talking about how pretty i am???
characters huang renjun, zhong chenle [nct], liu yangyang [wayv], hwang yeji [itzy]
warnings none but it does imply you speak korean as well
word count 812
author’s note rewrite from my old blog. italics = mandarin
Here’s the thing: you were pretty firm on privacy. You didn’t like yours getting invaded by nosy people, and even have scolded so many for doing so. Yet, here you were; eavesdropping. You were no better than them.
You usually tried to ignore the group of boys that always sat at the same table, talking shit about people in their lives in Mandarin.
But could anyone really blame you? When the pretty boy with stars for eyes kept glancing over in your direction and commenting to his friends in Mandarin, “Aren’t they so pretty? … No, the one facing us.”
You ducked your head, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as you barely managed to hide your growing smile. If you just smiled at seemingly nothing, you’d seem like a weirdo.
Yeji eyed you with a weird look, brows furrowing, “What’s got you all smiley, huh?” She poked you in the arm with her pen.
You shushed her quietly, shaking your head as you leaned in to whisper to her, “You see the boy with the white cardigan?” When she briefly looked over and nodded, you continued, “He’s telling his friend about how pretty I am in Mandarin.” You giggle.
A grin rose on her lips, looking over again, “What’s he saying now?”
“His friend’s asking why he won’t come talk to me,” you keep your head down, seemingly focused on your laptop. “Stop looking over there! You’ll get us caught.”
“Sorry, sorry,” she giggled, looking down at her notebook. “Hey, what’s the answer for number two?”
“You’re only on two?” Your mouth dropped open in shock. Yeji shrugged, cheeks flaring. “It’s C. Anyways, he’s saying he won’t ‘cause he doesn’t want to embarrass himself if I was already taken,” you hum, glancing up momentarily and accidentally making eye contact with the cute boy.
His cheeks flushed red, head snapping back to his friends, “They just caught me looking at them! See!” His friend’s head turned to look at you, “No! Don’t look, dumbass!”
“I agree, he’s a dumbass, but look at what?” A dark haired boy joined the conversation, speaking in Korean instead of Mandarin.
His friend hushed him, “Shut up! Don’t speak in Korean.”
The boy blinked.
“Don’t look, but you see the person studying with the girl with braids in her hair behind me?” The boy with his back towards you asked the new boy. You could see out of the corner of your eye that the new boy looked towards your direction anyway.
“Dude,” the cute boy groaned in exasperation, putting his face in his hands.
“He asked if I could see them! How was I not supposed to look?”
“Whatever, Renjun thinks they’re pretty.” Renjun was the boy’s name, huh? You smiled to yourself.
“They are. Go tell them that, ge,” the boy said.
“Are you crazy? I’m not going to make a fool out of myself!” The cute boy’s—Renjun— voice cracked cutely at the end.
“Why not? You don’t know what will happen!” The other nameless boy said.
“They’re way too pretty for me,” Renjun shook his head again, cheeks red as he kept making small glances to you. You felt as if your heart was about to burst out of your chest. “I said no,” he added firmly in Korean when the boy opened his mouth to speak again.
The boy shrugged, “Fine, I will.” Ignoring Renjun’s protests, he stood and made his way to you. Your heart pounded in your chest at the thought of confrontation. You scribbled a word on your notebook, pretending to be busy. When he approached your table, both you and Yeji looked up. “Hi, I’m Chenle. You see my friend over there?” Your heads turned to see that Renjun was now clutching the menu, hiding behind it. Chenle sighed in disappointment, “Yeah, the weirdo hiding behind the menu. Anyways, he thinks you’re pretty.”
You knew this already, but your cheeks flushed red. You smiled, “I know.” Chenle’s brows rose in shock at your confession and you could hear the other boy voice his confusion at their table, making you giggle. “I know Mandarin.” You looked at the time on your phone and smiled again, looking up at Yeji, “It’s getting late, my mom will kill me if I’m not home before eight.” Chenle watched as the two of you got up.
You grabbed a paper and pen, quickly writing on it before giving it to Chenle, “Give this to your friend.” You looked up and sent a wink, but in your head, you were freaking out, but managed to keep your cool.
You finished packing your things up and smiled one last time at the group of boys before walking out with your friend.
Renjun grabbed the paper hastily from Chenle and started to read it, his cheeks getting even more red if possible.
i think you’re pretty cute too, and my name’s y/n.
so now that you know mine, i think it’s fair enough that i know yours. :)
***-***-****
- y/n <3
main masterlist
networks @k-films
#k-films#nct#huang renjun#renjun#nct dream#nct 127#nct u#wayv#nct imagines#nct scenarios#nct fluff#renjun imagines#renjun fluff#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#nct dream imagines#nct dream fluff#kpop fluff#huang renjun imagines#wayv imagines#nct new team
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puppy love • part two
mini series ; part two, find part one here
pairing ; eddie munson x fem!reader
summary ; lovesick y/n has fallen head over heels, complete infatuation with the scraggly-haired metal head who drops her off at school every morning and takes her home after.
genre ; angst, fluff, smut, smitten!reader has heart eyes for heartbreaker!eddie, !! flashbacks/memories in all italics !!
warning ; this content is 18+ only. explicit sexual content (minors away !! grrr), fingering, oral f receiving, pantie kink? m! masturbation, bullying, petty behaviour, family issues, drugs, consuming alcohol, reader fits into eddie's clothes, panic attacks, insecure reader who pines for eddie who gets bitches and sleeps around. dumb, both reader and eddie are dumb but like does he really not know how reader feels? maybe he’s being cruel.. yeah he’s kinda a dick in this.
wc ; 11.1k strap in
fairy note ; putting all my heart into this, feedback and interactions are greatly appreciated. thanks twice and ive, gg playlist in general for getting me through this long part of puppy love oh my- also this isn't full proofread yet, sorry. i don’t have a taglist but i do have a blog that you can turn notifications on to know when i post a new fic, click here ♡
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“I guess I could say hi to her..”
You had left the Hellfire Club room behind the theatre class with your shoulders slumped, a quick goodbye paired with an excuse to Eddie. You felt detached and put off, but you had your last class of the day— in about 2 minutes so there was no time for any of those sappy feelings getting in the way.
Turning hallways and skipping a couple of steps up to the floor of your maths class, successfully reaching it on time, and setting yourself down at the desk where you normally reside.
You didn't even notice that Lori was in her usual spot— the desk in front of you, until you heard her joyful giggle, Eddie's proposition to you whirling around in your head like a cruel taunt you just couldn’t shake.
But alas, you had already told your puppy-eyed friend— that you were in love with, that you’d talk to her for him and you didn’t go back on your word.
"thought it would be nice for you to make a new friend too since you're stuck to me."
What did Eddie even mean by that? Sure, you didn’t have many friends and you weren’t even super comfortable around all of Eddie’s friends yet, still taking time to open up with them and yeah, you’d always come running to him when something had happened, good or bad but that’s what friends did and he’d welcome you with open arms no matter rain or shine. It didn’t make sense, why would he suddenly sound so hostile now? Like you were suddenly a burden he wanted to brush off.
You didn’t like this Eddie very much.. your Eddie might’ve been irritatingly oblivious to how flirtatious he was, absolutely blind to your genuine feelings, gestures and purposeful routines that included him but, he was never mean.
You swallowed down the nervous lump in your throat and reached out to tap Lori’s shoulder to get her attention, seeing her turn around and all the previous joy drain from her face, looking like you had just killed her entire family and it took you by surprise but you were used to plenty of two faced people in Hawkin’s High.
“Hi.. sorry.” you spoke up, rubbing your arm out of comfort, “I was just wondering where you got your bag from, it’s really cute.” you weren’t lying but you were exaggerating, under any other circumstances, you would have never had enough confidence to muster up asking any popular kids questions, though it helped that she wasn’t surrounded by her poesy right now.
“Oh..” her face softened up at the flattery, looking down at her bag before back ahead at you, expression a lot more relaxed now, “My daddy got it for me in a department store in the City.”
“Oh, cool, I like it.” you smiled, “Um, you like my friends band right? Corroded Coffin.”
Her eyes went wide and she nervously laughed, shaking her head, “I don’t know what that is.” her eyebrows furrowed and oh boy, she was a terrible liar.
You blinked a couple times, stuck on how to progress anything if she was just going to play pretend, “Well, my friend has this band and he saw you the other night—“ she cut you off, reaching over to squeeze your hand, “That wasn’t me sweetie.” her tone was condescending.
She turned away and you rolled your eyes, oh well, you tried. Maybe Eddie did get mixed up with another girl, not Lori.
“Here’s that department stores name.” She turned back around to hand you over a piece of ripped paper she had scribbled on, ‘talk to me when school ends, go to the restroom, not here xoxo’
When you went to look back up at her you saw she was already facing back towards the front, you were in disbelief but you reminded yourself that people like this weren’t nice and given the opportunity they would rather laugh in your face then hear you out. So of course Lori Fisher wouldn’t dare be caught talking to you in front of her friends, especially not about Eddie Munson out of all people.
You didn’t even know why you were even bothering, you were helping the guy you had been fawning over all year hook up with some preppy girl in your class, it didn’t make sense even to you but Eddie’s harsh words hung heavy on your heart. You had somewhat convinced yourself that this would be a fix, just to keep pleasing him, you had messed up somehow along the way, right? What if you had really upset him? You couldn’t stand the thought of Eddie being upset with you, especially to the point where he didn’t want you around as much anymore.
Once class was dismissed you were gathering your things when you heard Lori announcing to her friends that she had to rush home early today, catching the way she glanced at you before heading off.
You followed behind her a little before the both of you were in the toilets, the rest of the students heading home or out with their friends for the day.
"We can talk here, it's better," she spoke up, looking in the mirror and adjusting the ponytail on top of her head, “So did Munson like.. tell you I was there?” she asked, still looking ahead at the mirror.
You just nodded, unsure of where she was going with this, “You talk to him a lot don’t you? Kinda thought you two were together or something.” she scoffed out a laughter, “But here you are.. asking if I like his band and how Eddie saw me.” she titled her head, tapping her chin as though she was thinking.
“He likes me doesn’t he?”
You honestly had somewhat drifted off into your thoughts somewhere between her speculating, shaking your head back to reality before laughing nervously, “Something like that.” you muttered.
“Interesting..” she cooed and you couldn’t read her expression, what was on her mind.
Yes Lori, the boy you’ve fell head first into love with was interested in her, and here you were like a fool, mind clouded in doubt and worry but you didn’t act, you never did, like a complete coward.
“There’s a party, y’know Chance? Big muscled guy on the basketball team? Well, he’s holding one tonight, you wouldn’t be a doll and ask if Eddie could come? It’s like bring your own alcohol but he could bring drugs instead, that would work.” she nodded eagerly at her suggestion, scribbling down an address and shoving it into your hand.
Lori wanted you to be the messenger and invite Eddie to some High School party? You didn’t even get a chance to question her, watching her gasp once she checked the time.
“Gotta go! See ya, okay?” she grinned before rushing out of the toilets.
You glanced down at the address written on the paper before stuffing it into your pocket and walking out of the school building, Eddie would be there waiting in his car to drop you both back off home.
“Jesus H Christ!” he jolted, sitting in the drivers seat with rolling papers between his fingers and his little lunchbox full of drugs on his lap— which nearly went flying when you startled him with your sudden presence.
You plopped yourself down in the passenger seat and laughed under your breath, “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” you looked over at him and he relaxed, shaking his head,
“No, you’re good, don’t worry.” he chuckled, putting away any drug paraphernalia and starting the car, “Y’wanna come over and listen to some new songs I learned? Picked up ice cream for us too.” he told you proudly but you hesitated.
“Really?” you asked which he laughed at, “Yeah? Why’re you saying that?” he asked, confused since the both of you always hung out you never double checked with him, you’d normally jump at the offer or suggest plans first.
“Nothing m’ just checking.” you shrugged it off, his words still ringing in your head but if he said it was okay then you believed him.
He patted your thigh and kept it resting there after starting the car and pulling it out of the school parking lot, headed out the gates and home. Once Eddie has pulled up outside the trailer you followed him in, feeling the warmth of his palm still burning at your thigh.
The both of you got comfortable in his room, Wayne out on his night shift so Eddie didn't hold back in giving you a couple personal performances with his guitar whilst you say back against his headboard, watching his fingers swipe skilfully plucking and striking the strings of his beloved instrument.
“You learnt all of those songs over the week?” you leaned up, blinking up at him in surprise, “Mhm? Not to brag or anything but i’m pretty good right?” he jokingly winked before setting aside the instrument on the stand and joining you on his bed.
“So.. you’ve been looking like something’s been on your mind since you got in the car and you barely even touched the ice cream I bought for us.” he pointed out, reaching over and squeezing your hand in your lap, big brown eyes watching you.
You laughed quietly, an awkward attempt to quell any nerves at his apprehensive questioning, "Nothing serious." you shook your head, shrugging it off dismissively but of course, Eddie only gravitated further towards you, head leaning to the side knowingly and the feeling of his thumb swiping along the back of your hand had a nervous lump building in your throat.
You didn't have to tell him, right? If you just said something like, Lori wasn't that interested, kinda mean, you wouldn't even be lying.
Ultimately you decided against that, opting to just tell him and see what he made of the situation, you didn't take Eddie for desperate so you somewhat had hopes that he would deny any sort of party invite from her.
"Well.. Lori, we talked a little but not in front of everyone, she didn't wanna do that," you glanced up at him, seeing him listening intently, "So yeah, we talked and she basically asked me to invite you to one of the basketball players parties tonight." you explained, prying out the crumbled up paper with his address on.
You watched the way Eddie's eyebrows furrowed as he uncrumpled the paper and read the address, a disgruntled expression on his face, "She invited me?" he peeked back up at you.
"Mhm, talked about bringing your own alcohol or drugs too," you shrugged before a sigh left your lips and you laid back against the bed, "you're not going right?" you asked him, looking up at the ceiling.
It was silent, uncomfortably long silence, peeking your head up and resting up on your elbows as you studied his expression, "Eddie." you called out.
"I could check it out.” you watched him shrug and your eyes went wide, mouth dropped open a little.
“You wanna party with people that bully you?” you questioned him, watching him roll his eyes in annoyance— like you hadn’t made a completely fair point.
“She invited us Y/N, I don’t see why she’d do that if she was like the others.” he tried to reason but it only made you more frustrated.
“Okay, let’s say she isn’t like that, that she’s a total sweetheart who has this little risky crush on you,” you cooed out in a forcibly sweet tone, “that means her friends are still assholes, whether she’s nice to you or not, she’s putting you in a room full of people that despise us just for breathing— oh and she didn’t invite us, Eddie, she invited you.”
Eddie clearly didn’t like that response because he glared at you like you had just said the most heinous thing, “You’re being dramatic,” he combed his fingers through his hair, a habit he had when he was stressed, “I said I’d check it out! Besides, I’m not a baby, I can stick up for myself.” he scoffed.
“Why?” you asked, completely baffled, “Is it that worth it?” you spoke quietly but it was audible enough for Eddie to hear, his eyes still boring into you.
His expression had turned somewhat sour when he spoke up again, “Ohh, I get it, this is because I told you it would be nice if you made a new friend too?” he laughed as though he had it figured out.
You stared at him, blinking a couple times before standing up, you weren’t going to do this, bicker with Eddie whilst he speculated and turned this on you.
“Oh so it is?” he stood up, “It isn’t even that big of a deal! I didn’t say it maliciously.” he shook his head but you weren’t even listening to him, grabbing your bag and stepping into your shoes.
“Shut up, I’m against it because I told you, those people aren’t nice people Eddie— besides! she doesn’t even like me so to hell with any ideas of friendship!” you raised your voice.
“No! You’re just overthinking it and making it into this big fucking thing like this will end the world or something I mean come on Y/N! Grow up!” he grabbed the bag you were holding to make you stop for a moment and listen to him.
“I’m looking out for you!” you poked your finger into his chest, glaring up at him and your breathing had gotten heavier, the whole situation working you up.
“Oh my! My hero, saving me from big bad Lori and her asshole friends like I totally don’t deal with that on the daily, seriously loosen the fuck up.” he scoffed and you felt your heart pang in your chest, why was he making you out to be so evil?
“Whatever, have fun— prove me wrong, I don’t care anymore.” you laughed weakly, grabbing your bag out of his grasp and storming out of the trailer.
The whole thing had you stunned, feeling like you couldn’t even breathe properly and like your whole world was collapsing on you. You had never yelled at each other like that and Eddie normally heard you out but this time he had been so mean and stubborn, all over something that— in your eyes — was going to backfire massively for the both of you.
You got home and kicked off your shoes, falling face first into the couch in the living room, “Bad day?” you heard your Mom speak up, peeking her head out from the kitchen. She walked over when she heard muffled sniffling against the pillow.
You spent a little while like that, shedding tears onto the pillow whilst your Mom stayed beside you, only raising your head to wipe at your swollen eyes, “Eddie, he’s not being very fair.” you croaked out, voice unstable.
“Hmm? How so my love?” your Mom questioned, watching you sit up properly and she grabbed a couple tissues, handing them over.
“He asked me to talk to someone he’s interested in b-but I tried to tell him I don’t think it’s a good idea because they're not nice and neither are their friends and he got all defensive.” you sniffled out in between hiccups, “You know I like him but.. it’s not even that, I care for him before anything!” you enthused.
“I know, I know..” she frowned, sighing at the situation you had explained, “Well, I know it might not be pleasant to think about but let him carry on, do what he wants to and he’ll soon come crawling back apologizing once he realizes, I’m sure he’s just being headstrong.” she shook her head, “He cares about you too, he’s just making poor decisions he has to learn from himself, there’s only so much fixing you can do Y/N.”
You knew your Mom meant well and she was being rational but you could but anything but that, you just couldn't shake the horrid feeling— probably because you were head over heels in love with him. With your heart pounding in your chest anxiously and your mind conjuring up the worst scenarios your friendship would end in, you had to distract yourself before you got yourself further worked up over the boy.
Your Mom even offered to stay home from work instead of heading to her night shift so you could both watch movies, but you refused, feeling like it would have been too much of a burden on her.
Now, with the night approaching 9 PM already and your Mom out of the trailer, and the one you loved most was off trying his best to, how you saw it, replace you, you turned to the kitchen and reached up to a top shelf, plucking a bottle of wine out and cracking the cap open to fill a glass.
It was stupid, everything felt so stupid and maybe yes, you were a little dramatic but Eddie was your everything, he had taught you so much about yourself, his presence alone had made you feel so comforted, and he genuinely listened. You had never felt like your problems were real enough until Eddie assured you that it's okay and it's not selfish to be upset, to complain, and to want to scream at the top of your lungs sometimes and he had promised he'd be there, to cheer you on, to lend a shoulder to cry on or to distract you from any hurt you were going through, he never wanted you to go through that again, he told you that you wouldn't have to.
So maybe that's why this hurt even more.
"Hey, freak, that your girlfriend?" one of the basketball players, Alex, called out mockingly, just wanting to provoke him, "she sure looks the part, wonder if she's as freaky in the bedroom as she looks."
Eddie lost his cool, his arm around you dropping from your shoulder as he turned back around and got up in Alex's face despite your protesting and tugging at his arm, "Don't fucking talk about her like that alright man? What is your problem—"
He got whacked in the face, fist flying at his cheek, feeling him knock back into you, Alex fleeing as soon as he caught sight of a teacher, fled like a coward, not that Eddie would've probably jumped on him back, he didn't scrap, that wasn't like him but he didn't just stand there all the time letting people walk all over him— especially not you.
"Oh my god, Eddie are you okay?!" you screeched out after catching a breath from stumbling back with Eddie, your hand still squeezing at his arm.
You went back to him with his trailer that day-- skipping your lessons just for him, full-on nurse mode even though it was only a busted lip, insisting that he should just rest and you'd look after him, "Y/N, it's not that bad," he shook his head dismissively, eyes blinking down at you as you kneeled in between his legs, holding a damp towel to his lip, "starting to think you just like me or something." he'd jest playfully.
"Shut up stupid, why are you saying that?" you whined, probably poutier looking than you should've been, for an obvious joke.
"You just wanna take care of me and love up on me all day." he'd coo playfully and you felt your hands get clammy despite holding the icy cold towel.
"You've gone crazy Eddie Munson, sure you didn't hit your head too?"
You felt like you had only blinked and a matter of hours had passed, sitting on the floor with your knees against your chest and you had opted to drink straight from the bottle instead of your glass now, "Stupid.. Stupid, dumb, gorgeous Eddie Munson," you grumbled drunkenly to yourself, "I mean really? What do I not have? I-I want him so bad." you slurred out, banging your head back against the mattress on your bed.
You didn't even hear the soft knocking on your window until it grew louder and you finally thought you had lost it, hearing things and becoming paranoid.
"Y/N!" you heard a muffled voice and whipped your head around in the direction of the window, eyes going wide when you saw Eddie. You pushed yourself up but were very unsteady on your feet, getting to the window with the help of grabbing everything around you for stability.
Pushing the window open, you were swaying back and forth a little and squinting at him in your drunken haze, "What?" you bleated, seeing Eddie already push himself into your room, "No, nu uh, Eddie, get out." you complained, but he was already in your room.
"Drunk? Why're you drunk?" he questioned, noticing your incessant hiccups, and slurred words, and the empty bottle laid on the ground. He grabbed your hand and sat you down on the bed, watching the way your lips downturned into a pout, quietening up suddenly.
"Why're you here.. the party." you mumbled, glancing down at your hands in your lap, his hand still grasping gently at your wrist.
"Y/N it's 1 AM, besides, I didn't wanna stay long, needed to see you." he shook his head, waving his hand like he didn't want to talk about it.
In truth, as soon as Eddie walked through the door and greeted Lori, it was clear as the night grew, what her intentions were from the start.
At first, Lori was pleasant, cute even and she buttered Eddie up with endless compliments and questions about his band she saw at the diner that night, to Eddie she seemed sweet, and yeah, her friends all gave him the nastiest of looks and snide comments but they didn't seem to interfere too much and Lori didn't give it any thought either, to him it was just nice that she was joining in with the cruel remarks.
“Did you bring that stuff?” she squeezed his arm, sweet smile making her eyes crease, “Oh, um yeah but we don’t have to do anything.” Eddie hesitated but pulled out the little baggies of weed and assortments of pills from his pocket, hearing her gasp, “Ooh fun!” she winked.
“You don’t mind? I can make it up to you later.” she leaned in, pecking his cheek and swiping the various tiny plastic bags from his hand.
He didn’t exactly have a say in it, he was stupid but not that stupid, he knew saying no, suddenly going all cold and storming out the party flooded with football and basketball players, with his ‘fun’ he’d just displayed to her, wasn’t going to work and she knew that too. Lori always got what she wanted, with a sweet over-exaggerated smile and forcibly high tone.
"Y’know, you’re like.. not as weird as I thought you'd be, kinda cute." a drunken Lori cooed, eyes big as they looked up at him, "That Y/N though, I mean even though you're out of my league, shit she's like the bottom of the barrel-kinda out of your league!" she burst out into laughter.
His face scrunched up in disbelief, he didn’t care about the drugs anymore, how much money he would lose or how Lori had just used him— probably just to impress her friends. No, this was unbelievable, this was bullshit and downright cruel.
He pushed Lori a couple steps away from himself and shook his head, “Are you serious?” he grimaced, “You think that’s actually funny saying that disgusting shit about her?” he scoffed.
“Oh c’mon, lighten up!” she groaned, eyes rolling which only got Eddie more frustrated.
“You’re fucking fake, how can you be so proud and walk around like that confidently? It’s ugly and I hope it bites you in the ass, fuck you.” he watched the way Lori’s face scrunched up in disgust at his words.
“Oh fuck you, like you have any room to talk, get the fuck out freak!” she suddenly yelled, jabbing her finger into his chest and Eddie didn’t say another word, wanting nothing more than to get away from her and her disgusting mouth.
“Fucking bitch..” he scoffed under his breath, luckily stepping out of the door before anyone caught on to the situation and jumped him.
He felt bad, like a scolded puppy dog when he rolled up to Y/N’s trailer, knocking on her window and ready to be I told you so'd but if he didn’t he knew she would’ve avoided him the whole weekend, would’ve probably even walked to school on Monday too and he just couldn’t have that.
“You’re ruining my night,” you hiccupped, “well actually you already ruined it but now it’s doubly ruined.” you breathed out shakily and Eddie sighed, nodding knowingly.
“I know and—“ you glared at him and he stuttered his words, jumbling them up nervously, “I was too harsh and I should’ve heard you out instead of freaking out on you, whether I went or not I shouldn’t have treated you like that, at all!” he squeezed your hand in his to bring his point home.
“You’re mean.” he watched your eyes drop back into his lap and suddenly heard a weak sniffle. Eddie gulped back a nervous lump in his throat, feeling his heart pang in his chest, he had really fucked up.
“Oh no.. Y/N,” he spoke out softly— cautiously not to make you further upset, “I’m sorry angel, I'm really, really sorry.” he frowned, leaning in closer but you just recoiled.
“No, please stop that.” you shuffled away, crawling to the end of the bed and curling up, “Stop calling me that a-and touching me like that, my head, it messes with my head and my heart hurts.” you whined, feeling like you couldn’t catch your breath.
“Y/N I don’t know what you mean if you don’t talk to me..” he pleaded with his eyes, giving you your space since he didn’t want to overwhelm you, “I know I messed up, I can only prove to you it won’t happen again, I cherish us so much you have no idea-“
“No! You have no idea!” you snapped, sitting up and he could see your whole body tremble with every drawn-out breath you took.
“You’re so sweet and caring and then you step all over me like everyone else! Getting me to do this and that because you know that I will because you know I like you.” you were just spewing words at this point, “It’s not fair, none of this is fair, and—“ you found yourself letting out another sob, “I don’t like this, I don’t like it anymore, hurts too bad. I do everything I can but it’s not enough for you to look at me like I want you to.” you squeezed your arm nervously, feeling loose tears drip down your cheeks and your head felt so heavy.
“So please just go, leave— don’t want any pity or apologizes, just stupid puppy love, a dumb crush, it’ll pass.” you whimpered out brokenly, mostly saying that to ease yourself but you knew how pathetic you looked saying this was nothing more than a dumb crush when here you are bawling your eyes out like this and confessing in front of him after some wine? It was pitiful.
It was silent for a little while and you had buried your head into your arms, rocking yourself back and forth comfortingly. You heard shuffling around before feeling Eddie tugging you into his embrace which rumbled another sob past your lips, reaching out to grip his shirt in upset and frustration, “Why..” you whispered out, “Why can’t you just leave?” your voice was hoarse and scratchy from your stuffy nose and glassy eyes but his hold on you didn’t let up.
“I can’t..” he shook his head, voice hushed, “It might be selfish but I just can’t, I don’t want to.” he frowned, tilting your chin up and wiping away the dried tears on your cheek. Eddie breathed out, gently pushing your head back against his chest and rocking the both of you gently, “I know that you’re tired of hearing it but I’m so sorry.. for making you confused, hurt, I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you.” he squeezed you.
“I guess my words, actions came off strong but..” he closed his eyes, squeezing them together, “that’s not a bad thing.” your eyebrows furrowed at that, ready to pull away and curse at him properly this time but he continued speaking, “I mean.. things are confusing but I like it- I mean, I like us, y’know..” he was awkward, scratching behind his head nervously.
He notices you shake your head and he anxiously laughed, “Can we talk about this in the morning? You’ve been drinking and crying, you need some sleep.” he kissed the top of your head and you melted, almost forgetting everything that had previously gone down tonight.
“I don’t deserve it but hear me out, please?” he looked down at you, big twinkly brown eyes and you felt your heart break for what was probably the hundredth time, nodding in compliance.
“We’ll talk and we won’t leave the room until everything is off our chests and good, okay?” he cupped your face and you couldn’t do anything but nod once again, completely drained— not be able to muster up any more complaining or tears.
Eddie smiled, giving you one more squeeze in his warm embrace before he pulled away, to your dismay, almost audibly whining at the lack of his warmth and comfort.
“Can you stay at least.. I know I said leave but it’s okay.” you spoke quietly, eyes avoiding his as you crawled up your bed and under your covers, “Want me to tuck you in?” he asked, watching you nod with your eyes peeking out from under the sheet.
He walked over, taking the corners of the duvet and making sure it was snugly tucked against you your frame, grabbing one of your plushies and even placing it under the covers beside your head.
Eddie grinned, pleased at his work before walking over to grab the blanket and cushion on the chair in the corner of your room. He tugged off his vest and kicked off his shoes before laying himself down on the floor, head resting on the little pillow and pink blanket draped over himself, “G’night angel.” you heard him softly call out.
Your eyes closed and the next time you opened them was when you felt the sun spilling in through a crack in your closed curtains, grumbling nonsense and burying your head further into the pillow in protest of the sun.
You heard Eddie’s hoarse voice as he groaned out, “Morning..” he said in between a yawn, sitting up and pressing his hand against his lower back, aching from the hard floor beneath him all night.
“I grabbed you some water.” he spoke up, pointing towards the glass beside your bedside table and you didn’t hesitate in gulping down the liquid relief, you had a dull headache, it could’ve been way worse considering drinking and crying all night but you got rather lucky.
“Can I come up?” he asked from the floor and you tried not to smile, shuffling to sit up against the headboard properly, “Mhm.”
Eddie crawled onto the bed and relaxed against the soft mattress and sheets that smelt like you, “Sleep okay?” he asked quietly and you nodded, knowing he was just trying to process all of last night.
“Can we talk about what happened?” he looked over at you at the top of the bed, “If you want to of course.” he added.
“Yeah, I want to.” you bit your bottom lip in between your teeth, anxiously biting at the skin, “I’m sorry, I know I overreacted, blabbering around about a crush and stuff, was really stupid and I was just being over emotional like— you shouldn’t of listened to anything I said.” you laughed nervously, fiddling with loose threads on your sheets.
Eddie frowned, aware you were only trying to cover yourself, probably embarrassed but that’s not what he wanted to hear, the last thing he wanted to hear was you taking any of it back.
In truth Eddie had spent the most of the night on the floor, staring up at the ceiling and playing countless scenarios and made up conversations in his head of how to tell you he liked you, he wanted to give it a chance but he was just scared to commit, make anything official. His mind was racing, wondering how he could keep someone so dear to his heart like you, how to make you happy, how to make you know you’re loved— of course he knew he fulfilled that as a friend but in a relationship? that was completely different and so much more intense and he was terrified to screw that up, what if he broke your heart for real or you broke his? He couldn’t cope with that.
“No, no, it’s okay.” he smiled, reassuringly reaching out and grabbing one of your hands, fiddling with your fingers, “Even though you were mad at me, it's understandable.” he laughed quietly, shaking his head before continuing, “I just feel like we should really talk about it, I don’t wanna upset you anymore and I need to make sure you’re okay and that we're on the same page.” he looked you dead in the eye but you couldn’t hold his gaze, too embarrassed still by last nights messy drunken confessing.
You were fearing the worst, rejection— you'd be told that in simple words, you weren't what Eddie wanted, he'd never be able to see you that way, you basically braced for impact.
Your lips pursed together and you took a deep breath in and out from your nose before lifting your head, eyes wandering aimlessly around the room to try and muster up any courage you could, eventually just blurting it out under your breath, "I do.. I do like you, more than a friend,"
You didn't hear him say anything and your eyes were now fixed back onto your lap, breathing picking up nervously, "And I'm sorry, I've been probably coming off way too pushy and overbearing, clingy, annoying— everything." you laughed out bitterly through a trembled breath, your whole chest feeling like it was tightening up in fear of the worst, "But genuinely that's not the reason I ended up being worried about Lori- I won't go into it, you know how I feel." you muttered, not wanting to speak on Lori and upset Eddie if he had a good night with her at the party, even if he came back to you after.
"Y/N," Eddie called out but you kept your head down, 'oh god here it comes' that little voice in your head spoke, the one that never rooted for you, "Look at me? Please." his head titled, wanting to meet your eyes.
You hesitated but eventually subdued the big wave of unease making you feel defeated already, your eyes looking back up and catching his and he noticed how your lips downturned and your eyes were a little swollen from crying last night, crying because of him.
"Can you give me a chance?" you heard him ask, hesitant and he even looked nervous himself which oddly put you at ease a little, you shook your head, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, "I mean like, we can try it, us, together." he swayed his hands between the both of you to emphasize what he was trying to say.
Eddie was asking to take your friendship further, a relationship.
You blinked a couple times, almost forgetting to breathe before you came back around, and a small laugh came out, honestly in pure disbelief, "Like.. Like boyfriend, girlfriend kinda thing?" you pointed to yourself and then Eddie.
Eddie nervously laughed, scratching behind his head and nodding, "Mhm, something like that would be great."
"You really like me or you're just saying this?" you asked, scepticism dripping in your tone, as much as you liked Eddie you wouldn't let yourself get played around if he wasn't going to show the same energy as you back.
"No- I mean, yes, god, yes I really mean it and no I would never fool you about like that, I respect you Y/N, and last night, you deserved so much better than how I acted." he reached out, squeezing your hands in his and you relaxed, watching him and listening intently, "Uhh, I mean last night was just so dumb.. and I should've listened and I've had you doubting yourself since I got you chasing around Lori for me and I hate that I did that, I'm sorry, I'm a fucking asshole." he squeezed your hands, tight and you heard him scoff, frustrated with himself.
"So, you don't like Lori? I mean.. it's nothing like a serious crush or whatever?" you studied him, wanting to read his expression, you noticed he did seem genuinely worked up at how things went.
"I don't like Lori, I was just chasing after something that seemed like a fun risky idea but it wasn't real, none of it or the people are. It's stupid." he shook his head, looking like he was in his head for a moment and you wanted to question him, wondering what happened last night but he spoke up again,
"But I have the real thing, right here, right in front of me, waiting for the longest time and I've been too foolish to act on it because I'm a coward in all honesty," he threw his head back with a sigh, "scared I'll mess it up, that you'll end up hating me and we'll be left as nothing, I can't lose you." he looked back ahead and he was frowning, he looked uneasy.
"We can take it day by day, it doesn't have to be all at once and nothing has to drastically change like we're getting married tomorrow or something." you laughed, happy when you saw Eddie's lips upturn into a smile.
“So you don’t wanna marry me?” he gasped dramatically, clutching his heart and frowning to which you giggled at, nudging his arm, “Y/N Munson.. hmm doesn’t sound as cool as my name but I still like it.” he further teased before shuffling himself closer to you.
“Day by day, yeah?” he spoke quietly now he was closer and you could smell that strawberry conditioner you had left over in his bathroom, mixed with cigarette smoke lingering on his clothes.
You nodded and felt his hand come up to cup your cheek, leaning in and pressing his lips to the top of your head as his arms moved down to clasp around your waist securely, your back hitting the bed as you felt his weight on top of you and his face resting at your neck.
You breathed him in, hand reaching up to comb through any knots in his hair, you cuddled like this before but now your heart was calm and Eddie had just asked to be your boyfriend.
“You know I really am sorry about yesterday right? I’m not just saying that. I’ll do better.” he spoke against your neck and you nodded gently, fingers untangling one of his curly strands.
“Mhm, I know,” you spoke quietly, feeling like anything else would hinder the comforting atmosphere you both needed to be surrounded in.
“Hey..” he spoke quietly, head leaning up and chin resting against your shoulder as he blinked up at you, “You’re so pretty.” he winked and you felt your face get warm from the compliment, eyelashes fluttering as you glanced at him before anywhere else in the room to settle your heart that was pounding right underneath where his head was resting.
The two of you didn’t leave bed till evening aside from going to pee or grab snacks here and there, the both of you just spent the whole Saturday in each other's embrace, talking about anything that was on your minds.
With it being Saturday it meant no school tomorrow either and the both of you could laze around in each other arms- Eddie even suggested you both skipped Monday in favor of going out on a date and you were almost tempted but you knew your Mom would find out.
So the first date moved to Sunday, tomorrow.
You picked out something cute, the colors matching you perfectly and you thought Eddie would appreciate that too, paired with those shoes Eddie helped you pick out, it was the perfect date outfit.
Stepping out of the trailer you saw Eddie already waiting, leaned up against the car and holding a bunch of flowers, grinning ear to ear already as you approached him, taking in his outfit, he had black denim pants on but this time they weren’t distressed, still fitted him nicely and he kept the belt on, on his upper half he had a white printed t-shirt on with a black opened button down on top and he looked great, showed off his arms that were decorated in tattoos, that you adored so much on him and you didn’t miss the long necklace he wore hanging from his neck, making you feel a little light-headed from how attractive he looked.
“You look so cute, ah Y/N, you'll break my heart." he dramatically gasped, taking in every single little detail you had put into your outfit before noticing your eyes lingering on him, "I know, I know I look ridiculous, this whole date thing is kinda new to me too.” he laughed, handing you the flowers, “Picked those up in record time, only nearly jumping like two red lights?” he chuckled.
You knew Eddie liked to fool around but it was true, he didn’t go on many dates or fully invest time into finding someone to fall for but you didn’t question it and if anything his nerves made you feel better about your own.
“So! Bowling and then ice cream parlor?” he double-checked with you, watching you nod excitedly at the plans, “Follow me, m’lady.” he cooed playfully, opening the passenger door and letting you hop in before he rushed around to the driver's side and started up the car.
You were so happy and the date hadn’t even really begun yet, you just knew you could do anything with Eddie and feel so warm and content inside, it was a feeling you cherished more than anything.
Your first date was everything you had hoped for and more, it wasn’t any different than any other time you had fun plans together- and that’s exactly how you wanted it, it proved that nothing would change, you were both comfortable around each other still, no high expectations that everything would happen all at once, way too fast— yes, a few shy giggles here and there when Eddie said something extremely cheesy but it was all perfect.
You were finishing up — not really, the both of you would spend the night with each other — the date at the local ice cream parlour, Eddie asking for both of your favourite flavours whilst you sat down in a booth, swinging your feet in absolute blissful joy, you did it, Eddie was yours, this was really happening and you weren’t just daydreaming.
You snapped out of your gleeful thoughts when you saw Eddie in front of you, holding the two cups of ice cream, “Uh uh.” he complained when you reached out for yours, cooing at the cute little frown on your face, “Obligatory boyfriend deed, I gotta feed you this ice cream babe.” he snickered and you rolled your eyes at his antics, not missing the way your heart clenched at the new pet name. Feeling him poking the wooden ice cream spoon at your lips, you obliged, tasting the creamy delicious treat, humming in approval at the taste before plucking the spoon out of his fingers and scooping some up for him to try now.
"Mmh.." he hummed, pondering over the taste like some expert, "Too sweet, so I guess it's perfect for you." he smirks, your nose scrunching as you shook your head and grabbed the small ice cream cup from him.
It was about 8 PM when the both of you headed on back to the trailer park, opting to follow Eddie back to his room this time, hearing him playfully coo about how he had been surrounded by your evil little plushies and menacingly tidy room all weekend.
You sighed and rolled your shoulders back once you were in Eddie's room, happy to be in the comfort of just each other and 4 walls again, you flinched when you felt a shirt come flying at your face, scowling at him when you dragged it away from your head.
It was his Hellfire shirt and you looked at him, confused— sure, he let you stay over before, in his shirt and some shorts, but never his Hellfire shirt.. and no pants.
"Put it on dummy, it'll look cute." he cooed like it was obvious, as you stood there, staring down at the infamous shirt.
"Okay, well turn around pervert." you jokingly glared at him and he obliged, turning around with his hands up.
You kicked off your date clothes and pulled the Hellfire shirt over your head, turning around when you were decent, "Mmh'okay." you nodded, still seeing him facing the wall and you laughed, "You can look, dummy."
When he turned around, his eyes went wide, taking in one of his fantasies he had thought and admittedly had countless wet dreams about, and oh god, it was better in real life. Eddie had to clear his throat to get himself composed, "Yeah— uhm.. wow," he chuckled, hand combing through his hair, "you look really fucking cute, c'mere.." he sighed, sitting himself down at the edge of his bed, legs spread wide open.
His reaction had your hands clammy, digging your nails into your palms and biting on the inside of your lip, gradually stepping over the thrown-about clothes and cigarette packets on the floor until you were standing between his legs.
"You okay?" he asked, head tilted to the side and accessing your demeanor, the last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable.
You nodded, giving him a shy smile before you took a hold of his hand, pressing small, delicate kisses to the back of it which had his heart fluttering in bliss, "You're so gorgeous." he pulled you closer with his hand in yours.
"Can I kiss you?"
Your heart stopped, breath hitching when you looked at his eyes to find him already staring up at you with the sweetest little hopeful expression on his soft features.
"Mh, yes— please." you stuttered out, embarrassed by how flustered you sounded which only made him grin wider, pulling you smoothly onto his lap.
His hands came up and cupped your cheeks delicately, scared touching you too suddenly would startle you away like a baby deer but he relaxed when you nestled your cheek further against the warmth of his palm, one of your hands even coming up to reassuringly squeeze his arm.
"Cute." he mouthed, barely audible as you watched the way his eyes fluttered close, following suit and in no time you felt his soft plump lips molding with yours as if it was completely natural, like you had done this a million times before but you hadn't and your heart proved that, racing and pounding out of your chest like crazy. You got kind of self-conscious that you were just sitting there stunned, so you let yourself relax as best as you can, enjoying the sensation of the soft, slow, and purposeful movement of his lips on yours, it felt like paradise, better than any daydreaming you could've conjured up in your head.
When he pulled away a little he noticed the way your eyebrows furrowed, displeased from his withdrawal, chasing his lips and initiating the kissing this time, gaining some confidence which only spurred him on more.
You could've spent hours like this, attached to him, with your legs either side of his lap, your hands gripping his arms and your lips meshed with his, hearing delicious sighs leave his mouth.
"Keep going.." you spoke, breathy and feverish.
His eyes were lidded once they opened again to look at you properly, one of his hands at your hips, squeezing subtly, "Are you sure?" he spoke faintly under his breath, watching you nod and feeling your fingers drag through his hair encouragingly, "I like it, I really like it." you whispered, lips claiming his once more.
You felt greedy, swallowing up every piece of affection he gave you but you couldn't help it, he was making you giddy, your intense yearning having felt like it had led up to this.
"Mmh.." you whimpered under a broken breath, feeling him trail his velvety lips down towards your jawline, your eyes squeezing shut in concentration, not wanting to make any further embarrassing noises- didn't wanna disturb his wandering kisses.
"Can I touch you more?" he muffled in between pecking and leaving open-mouthed kisses that were trailing towards your neck.
"Please.. a-ah, please do." you ignored the way your whole body was burning up, gripping his shaggy hair in between your fingers and tilting your neck to the side.
Next, you felt his hands lifting up his shirt you were wearing and you couldn't help the whine that slipped from your lips, he was so very warm, hands laying rest on your bare waist, rubbing soft circles on the skin with his thumb as his kisses strayed more and more from innocent, feeling his tongue flick against a certain part of your neck that had you jolting in his lap.
Eddie thought you were the closest thing he could get to any sort of heaven, the cute little mewls you let out, the way he could feel the goosebumps under his fingertips, and oh god, you smelt so good he thought he would've gone crazed.
But, he kept his composure, wouldn't let himself do anything that wasn't complete concentration, and care for you, even if his jeans felt tight, denim fabric biting at his skin, he just wanted to draw every little pleasant sound and quiver out of you.
"More, more please." you hushed out against the top of his head and he was so overjoyed, you were being so vocal and every little please had him suppressing the urge to drop everything then and there and completely indulge, no, he wouldn't do that, he had all the time in the world and this was just the start.
You felt your hips lifting a little and you fluttered your eyes open, feeling reassured once you felt your back hit his bed and Eddie leaning over you, leaning in and dragging his thumb along your bottom lip, “You’re so beautiful, all mine now hmm? Never letting you outta my sight.” he smirked, tongue poking out of his mouth.
“This okay?” he asked, moving your legs open so he could kneel in between them and you felt the cold air biting at your bare skin, the thought of being so close to him, only your white undies and his Hellfire shirt preserving you from being completely exposed.
“Mhm, it’s okay.” you breathed out, hands taking a hold of his and squeezing, you would’ve told him by now that this was all okay, that he didn’t need to keep asking but you just found it so sweet and endearing, wanting to keep giving him sweet affirmations.
Once he was settled in between your legs he had leaned further down and your arms found place comfortingly around his shoulders, pressing delicate kisses into his neck before he tilted your chin up to catch your attention, “We can go slow, nothing all at once,” he assured you, licking his swollen-kissed lips, “can I play with you tonight? i’ll make you feel so amazing.” he promised and you felt the way his fingertips danced along your outer thigh enticingly.
You felt your breath get caught in your throat, your eyes wide but soft, looking at him with so much trust, you nodded, leaning back in against his neck, “I’d love that Eddie.” you faintly spoke.
Eddie was smug, enjoying every little second with his full attention span on you, mind clouded with only you so when he watched your hands find purchase at the bottom of his Hellfire shirt you were wearing, his breath hitched, your stomach and white panties coming in to view and you were so much more than a dream in your boyfriend's eyes.
“This okay? M-maybe we can leave the shirt mostly on for today if that’s okay?” you asked hesitantly but watched him nod.
“Whatever you want baby, it’s okay.” he placed soft kisses at your lips, fingers soothing along your stomach and watching the way you quivered in surprise, “Tickles.” you giggled, legs kicking a little and he grinned, cute, he thought.
“Sorry.” he scrunched his nose up adorably before repositioning himself until his head was above where it felt warm the most and you took a deep unsteady breath, “Ah, sorry.. you just look really good down there.” you blurted out, hearing Eddie chuckle as his hands found purchase at your thighs, softly pressing his thumb into the skin whilst he started littering open mouth, wet kisses on the other.
“You’ll tell me if you want me to slow down or stop, m’kay?” he mumbled against your skin, more like a demand than a question though he briefly glanced up at you to see you nod in agreement.
You were squirming a little already underneath his wet hot mouth, his hand coming up to rest at your lower abdomen to ease you and it helped but oh gosh did it make things feel ten times more intense.
“It’s okay, I got you, baby, I got you.” he kissed upward your thigh before leaning up a little and tucking his fingers under either side of your panties, pulling them down and embarrassingly you clenched your thighs together when you felt a string of wetness attached to the fabric.
“Sorry.” you bit at your lip before relaxing, his soft milk chocolate eyes easing you.
“Shh, i’m about to eat you out and you’re apologizing for being turned on by it?” he chuckles before ducking his head against your thigh, “You’re so cute.” he hummed.
“Can’t help it..” you complained, hearing him hum again, in acknowledgment.
“Let me take care of it princess.” he spoke gently, voice dripping with desire and you would’ve curled up into a ball and screamed at how attractive he was if he wasn’t in between your legs right now.
You relaxed again and let him throw your underwear over his shoulder, laying forgotten about amongst many other thinks in his room. You didn’t even get a chance to think because you felt his thumb swipe against your sensitive clit, legs trembling under him and you heard him giggle.
Eddie Munson was going to be the death of you.
His kisses got closer and closer to where you needed him most and it had your voice strained, desperate, hearing your sweet whimpers pick up in your throat, just cooing tauntingly at you.
But when he finally licked up from your slit to your bundle of nerves you could’ve cried right then and there, his tongue flattened against you, and this time your hands flew into his hair, grasping desperately, “O-oh— nghh, Eddie.” you gasped out.
He glanced up at you through lidded eyes and you couldn’t hold his gaze for too long, the way his tongue was licking up into you and twisting and flicking around you had your eyes rolling back and it hadn’t even been that long, the sight was pure filth, the most delicious and intoxicating kind.
Eddie could spend all day like this, in between your shaky thighs, tongue lapping up everything your delicious cunt gave him like he was a starved man, but he just wanted you to feel your best and he wanted you to know he was the one doing that for you, making you tick, squeal and shake with just a few movements of his tongue.
Eddie had you feeling completely euphoric, his hands manoeuvring your thighs up onto his shoulders, squeezing and gently pinching the soft skin.
His tongue got messier and messier and he shook his head in between your thighs, lips wrapped around your clit and suckling, exaggerating every little lewd sound his tongue made against you and it had you feeling in felicity, countless broken hiccups, moans, and chants of his name falling from your lips, drool seeping past the corner of your mouth.
“Think I’m— uh! Eddie— oh my god, close, m’ so close.” you shrilled out and Eddie didn’t take a breath, keeping his tongue and lips attached sloppily to your clit as he bought his hand up, fingertip swiping a mixture of your juices and his salvia up and down your slit before slowing pushing a finger in inch by inch.
You could feel the tip of his nose pressing against your skin as he attentively licked and suck at your clit, his finger alone being enough to feel like you could burst any second, and when he added a second, curling them up against that mushy spot inside you, you sobbed out, thighs squeezing your his head and back arching off the bed.
“Ah! Eddie, nghh! c-cumming.” you gasped out breathlessly, feeling the way his tongue lapped you up until you got too sore and sensitive, whining at the discomfort.
You breathed out, chest rising and falling as you laid there with your thighs trembling as Eddie pushed up, off of your burning heat and pressing soft and gentle kisses to your neck to which you giggled at, finding the gesture sweet.
“That was so fucking hot, you have no idea.” he rasped against your neck and you looked down at him through tired eyes, leaning in and pressing your lips to his, tasting yourself on his tongue.
Eddie laid there with you, noticing all the days— and nights excitement had caught up on you quick and your eyes were closing and your head nestling at his chest for comfort. He stayed, kissing the top of your head and letting you rest for the night since you both had classes in the morning.
Though, that didn’t bother Eddie himself and he had a rather— big, problem to sort, to himself, in the bathroom.
Slipping out of the bed careful as to not disturb you, remembering he had thrown your panties to the floor so he didn't miss an opportunity to pick them back up on the way to the bathroom, closing the door behind himself, sitting himself down after pushing his pants and briefs halfway down his thighs, cock still burning red and the prettiest pearl of precum at his flushed tip as he wrapped one leg of your panties in between his fingers and the other around his cock.
His hand was heavy and sluggish, taking a strong grip at the base of himself and stroking as he leaned back, your moans and the sweet taste of you bouncing around in his head and at the tip of his tongue, which helped greatly with getting himself off, plus the feeling of the fabric brushing up against his cock was doing wonders.
If you would’ve seen him like that you would’ve dropped to your knees, absolutely folded in front of him, he looked gorgeous with his loose hair strands sticking to his face and his blissed-out glassy eyes desperate for some relief.
“A-ah— Y/N, oh baby.” he hissed through his teeth as his stroking picked up and he would’ve thought it to be a little embarrassing feeling so quick to blow his load already but seeing you like that had his mind all jumbled and cock begging to be touched, till he was drained.
He lost it, desperately bucking his hips up into his hand and strips of pearly white cum landing all over his stomach, the pretty sticky substances dripping down his tummy.
Eddie cursed out as he caught his breath, grabbing a towel and cleaning himself up, kicking off his pants, and opting for just a clean pair of briefs, stuffing your panties into his underwear draw.
Once his situation had been sorted he wandered back towards the bed, happy to see you still off in dreamland peacefully and he didn’t waste any time in joining you, pulling you against him until your back was flush with his chest, kissing upwards along your arm until he landed a firm kiss to your cheek, “G’night sweetheart.”
You woke up the next morning when you heard ruffling around, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and watching Eddie pushing up his pants as he kicked his foot around the floor to find his keys, picking them up and stuffing them in his pocket.
"Eddie." you called out, voice laced with sleep and his head whipped round, eyes softening at the sight of you awake,
"Hi, sweetheart," he cooed before laughing-- nervously, "don't wanna alarm you but we might have like— hmm, 10 minutes to get to first class?"
You jumped up, "Eddie!" you yelled this time, tone not so soft as you rushed around to pick up something, anything decent enough to wear, throwing on one of his shirts and your skirt you picked out for the date last night.
"M' sorry, god, you just looked so cute and peaceful, it would've been cruel to wake you but I was going to.. eventually." he winced, rubbing his arm.
"It's okay, let's just go hmm?" you reassured him, not wanting to waste any more time just to get scolded by Mr. Thomas in the early morning.
You both hastily rushed out of the door, jumping in the passenger seat and groaning at your frazzled appearance in the mirror, "Ew." you grumbled and Eddie frowned,
"Don't say that about my girlfriend." he scolded playfully, squeezing your thigh before pulling out of the trailer park and going the usual direction to school.
Memories of your date and more risky activities had flooded back to your mind, knowing you would've been away with the fairy's daydreaming about it all day it class and you were kind of excited.
This feeling was so new, yeah you've liked Eddie for a long time but you never had him like this. It felt like you had gotten swept off your feet, dancing on clouds and starring in your very own romance movie, everything was so serene.
When you got pulled out of your thoughts, seeing Hawkin's High in front of you, of course, it was a bummer but turning to see Eddie with a sweet grin on his face, leaning in for a kiss you reciprocated, made everything worth it, you got to do everything and anything ten times over with who your heart had been longing for.
"Have a good first-class okay angel? I'll see you at lunch, maybe even sneak by your class at second period." he smirked, watching you playfully roll your eyes as you hopped out of the car and gave him a sweet wave as you parted ways.
Luckily you were on time despite Eddie's shenanigans and also first class normally didn't drag on for too long, which was good because you weren't fond of Maths— wait, you had Maths first and Lori would be there, like usual.
You didn't even think about that until you were walking up the stairs to the classroom but you just breathed, relaxing and chanting reassuring words in your head, you didn't have to be a messenger anymore, besides they didn't even know anything and they probably wouldn't find out unless they actually cared to do some digging.
You walked with your head down until you got to your table, settling yourself on the uncomfortable chairs and grabbing out any supplies you needed.
But it wasn't that easy, never was.
"Oh my goodness, Y/N!" you heard her grating voice, violating your eardrums but you forced a smile, nodding her way.
"You should've come to that party the other night, your friend is crazy." she cackled, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion, she was adamantly against talking to you in public, and now all this?
"He's a little weird y'know, sensitive too," she rolled her eyes before continuing, "but it's all good fun-"
"Lori, it's okay, I don't need to know." you cut her off, watching any previous emotion drain from her face, hearing a scoffed laughter.
"Well!" she huffed, "I just thought you would've like to know what he said." she dramatically flung her hands up defensively, "Sorry for trying to help a girlfriend out." she murmered.
"What? What are you even talking about.." you sighed, Lori's energy and back and forth draining you already.
"Oh no.. it's a lot, I don't wanna upset you— I just, y'know, we gotta look out for each other, some of these guys are heartless." she jutted her bottom lip out, looking genuinely worried which made your stomach churn.
"What did he say Lori? you're scaring me." you spoke quietly.
"We were just talking, about school, graduating, and friends and I let him open up, he seemed like he needed to talk so I let him but, it got weird," she sighed, clutching her hand to her chest, "He told me he couldn't see any of his friends in his future, that they were all just hopeless and pathetic, that they'd be stuck in Hawkins forever." she shook her head, recalling the event, "So I bought you up," she shrugged, "because I thought the both of you were close but he just started complaining, going on this wacky rant about how insufferable, clingy and dependent you are on him- I mean isn't that crazy?!" she gasped, "Who says that about their best friend? What a dick! I even decided to kick him out of the party eventually, sending his ass home not even a little past midnight." she snickered before softening her expression once again.
She reached out, grabbing a hold of your hand and squeezing, "I know what it's like to be pushed aside and stepped all over, treated like shit for doing everything you can, it's awful, I'm so sorry." she frowned.
You ripped your hands from Lori's, abruptly storming away from your desk, chair knocking over in the midst of it all. You just needed to go, get away, anywhere but here, this building, these people.
Your stomach bubbled with anxiety and you felt like you couldn't breathe, eyes stinging with tears as you stumbled towards the bathroom in a complete panic.
Why would he do this..
#fairy fics 🤍#puppy love 🤍#eddie munson#eddie#stranger things#stranger things eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie munson angst#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#eddie munson imagine
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Obey Me! The Comic
I wanted to write a bit about my experiences and working on the Obey Me! Manga!!! It’d be fun to dive into the process and challenges and just overall experience.
Read more under the cut!
Sooooo I first found out about seven seas licensing it when they announced it on their Twitter. I emailed my project manager and told her that I worked on the game some years ago! (I was translating events and phone messages and updates through an agency. I don’t remember exactly which events I got to do now, but I think I translated the bunny costume cards and event… one of the mammon birthday events… a Christmas one… and many many others!! Getting the OM job was how I was introduced to them!)
So, I was put on the project. I still remembered a lot of rules and regulations about the boys and their speech style and personalities, AND I was still playing Nightbringer at the time, so it wasn’t hard for me to pick this up. (Thank goodness I also kept all of my notes!)
This manga was a lot different from the previous manga work I’ve done…mainly because it’s based on a game and used a lot of text from the game.
There are two routes we can take when we work on works that have previously translated and published content. We can either retranslate everything from scratch, or…we dive into the translated content and try to stick as closely to it as possible.
I always prefer option 2, because in the eyes or the reader/fans, that’s what they’re most familiar with. There are legal issues with that sometimes, so not everyone is given that luxury… but luckily I was able to for this book.
I cracked open my Obey Me! game and diligently went through the first few lessons
I don’t think I’m allowed to show my script, but every time the book used lines from the game, I’d copy it from the game and highlight it, making a comment to the editor about exactly which lesson it’s from so that the editor will know that these are direct lines from the game.
The whole reason I bothered doing this (and it takes way more time pulling lines than translating the text myself btw) is because I thought, as a fan, seeing the familiar text would feel more welcoming. If I was a reader, I’d feel so happy and I might even start comparing the game and the book just to see the same text… because this is the Obey Me world, made for the fans and for the people. If the Japanese audience got to experience the same text as it’s pulled from the game, then the English audience should too…at least, that’s how I felt!
A bit about the translation process… once the script is handed in, I have little to no idea about how much of that script ends up in the final product. So for this title, I had SO MANY NOTES to the editor to tell them about things that can’t be changed (example- The Great Mammon is mammon’s way of addressing himself. Don’t change that!! And there’s mammon’s iconic yell- d’aaaah!). I took a quick flip through volume 1 and I’m really glad the editors kept what needed to be kept and did an absolutely fantastic job with this title! 💕💕💕
I’ve been wanting to write something about OM for a while, but it took a really long time for the company to send me copy of the book 😅
But this is actually because they had very limited copies left… I guess it sold really well?!?! I never had a book with this issue before…
So to end this blog post off, I want to thank all of you for purchasing the book and supporting OM!! Thank you so much for loving this world…and I’m always so honored to be able to bring some of that to the western world.
Keep loving the boys ❤️ and please look forward to the next few volumes!!
Ending this iconically with Mammon’s sexy ass 💕
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You said you get more asks here instead of Ask-Spiderpool
Does that mean there's presently no asks? Or you have an Itty bitty backlog,,
honestly the amount of asks I get on ask-spiderpool is so, so paltry and sad at the moment that i can barely scrape together any motivation for it because there’s No inspiration coming in. which is kind of the point of an ask blog lads. conversation. it is Not a one-sided thing !!
sure, there’s a backlog but those are like, pantry items. I need fresh fruit and vegetables or I’ll die of scurvy
anyone who tells me “I want to start an ask blog” I immediately say “in this economy? don’t bother. you won’t even last a day.” I’m hanging on for grim death here .
it’s not about numbers. you’re more than numbers. you should be more than numbers, so please. act like more than numbers. please. don’t you want to be more than numbers? every time someone talks to me and I respond back they seem Shocked to find out I’m actually a human or whatever. why are you guys like that. of course I want to be talked to. any human wants to be talked to. so talk to me!! I’m as lonely and nerdy and pitiful as the rest of you. I’m here because I want friends. so please, be friends. I don’t need numbers. I need friends.
it’s so not about numbers. I still get thousands of notes or whatever,, more notes than before, even, but you’re all so passive now that it’s depressing. I miss when ask-blogging felt like a community,, and that’s Why I did started, and why I kept on for so long… sighs. I feel like everything’s been reduced to numbers. I don’t know how anyone can be happy with just numbers. numbers are so cold and unsexy. numbers do not tickle my pickle at all. (no sir)
I feel like the human element of everything I do is kind of slowly diminishing and I’m looking around at the wasteland like,, where did all the people go. not just here. everywhere. so I’ve been diving into career things again and having success with it, but I don’t want that to be my lifeline. it was my lifeline pre-covid and I don’t want it to be my lifeline again. I’m good at it, but I miss real people with real gratitude and excitement. not just people paying a pay check for my services. I never, never want what I do to just feel like an exchange of goods for like, money. or numbers. those things have No Soul. They’re not a substitute for what I actually look for when I create anything. and what I actually look for is Conversation. (which doesn’t cost you much, can you believe!)
it’s so funny how when I said I’m planning on quitting (which I don’t want to do, but I’m kind of being forced to do because I mean. how can one keep on running an ask-blog with no asks) I got a very big response here saying “noooo don’t do it” and it's sweet - it's really sweet, and appreciated, and warmed the heart but - again. no asks on the actual blog. so.
if you want ask-spiderpool to actually live on, there’s something so very simple and free (does not cost you money) that you can do! three guesses as to what that might be
I have so, so many plans and posts and scripts but I’m not writing into thin air,, man. why should I keep doing a stupid thing like that. what happened to us, that we’ve stopped communicating with creators because we’ve forgotten that wait a second ,, they share things on the internet because they want other people to interact with them. artists are the neediest guys on the internet. they need people to survive. I’m not going to keep on pretending I’m above it all and I’m cooler than that. I’m not cool, and an ask blog needs asks. you can’t expect it to keep going on without them.
so freaking . leave a kiss. leave a comment. stop just leaving a like and disappearing into that goodnight . I hate you all.
anyway. love you. kisses.
#this is why I want to retire . I kind of wondered why I wasn’t enjoying ask-spiderpool as much as before when like.#the numbers are kind of the same. a post will still get thousands of notes but everyone is radio silent.#nobody engages. nobody sends asks. they forget there’s an ask button there.#so like. how is an ask blog meant to survive. I hate you guys.#sci speaks#I’m too good for you guys and you’re killing me like a fire being deprived of oxygen.#please remember how ask blogs work. or leave me alone to die sadly.
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Hii, I was researching channeling people from my DR but some peoples experience sound fun and emotional while others are saying that it’s dangerous and you shouldn’t do it. I understand you need to have protection before you do it but I’m nervous now and I need help starting so can you please help me 😭🙏🏾
hey anon!! ofc i can help you out <3
for the past few days i have been channeling every night so my father, loki, and a few other guides could help me get into the void — and it’s been going pretty well!
one thing i do have to say though, is channeling takes a lot of belief and determination for people just starting. i’ll be real, i still have my doubts, and i even told lilith this and she literally smacked me (not hard, dw) and asked me if i felt it 💀💀 i love her <3
anyways! enough with my stories! let’s get in how to do it <3
vv long blog below vv
How to Channel Safely
okay! there are many different ways to channel, but the one i use and the one i will be teaching is through clairaudience. it literally means clear hearing. some examples include when you hear a ringing in your ear (if u don’t have a hearing problem) or randomly hearing your name called out when nobody around you said it!
now to do this on command, it takes practice — a lot of it, but you will get the hang of it! coming from someone who literally learned it in less than a week, you’ve got this.
PROTECTION
the most important part of any spell or form of channeling, manifesting, or making something happen is protecting your own energy. you don’t want to allow negative energies to enter your spirit or your place of residence, because they can mess things up.
for protection, you can preform a protection spell, set up crystals, sprinkle salt near doors or walls, or even just simple affirmations; the easiest one and the one i do every day.
the thing is, i wouldn’t recommend just affirming for beginners unless you are confident in your craft. it is hard to do if you set an intention in a half assed way. you need to be strong, clear and powerful with it.
the best method for beginners or even people who have done it before, in my opinion, would be with crystals such as clear or smoky quartz, tigers eye or amethyst.
when using crystals, i suggest playing a song with positive and protective energy, like an upbeat song, and sending your positive vibrations from the song into the crystal/s. make sure you have at least 2, so one can be behind you and one in front of you or one for each hand.
2. CALLING ON A SPIRIT
calling on a spirit or the universe is easy, it’s just a matter of calling the one you want or the version of them you would like to talk to.
so, i know 3 versions of loki personally. my pops —the literal norse deity, my s/o loki from my spiderverse dr, and my mentor/friend loki in my mcu dr. now it can get confusing, but they all have similar souls/spirits. two just have incarnate forms.
so, let’s say i want to call on my friend loki. i close my eyes and say or speak in my mind, “i am channeling loki {replace his name with whoever you would like to channel} from my mcu dr. when he is here, he will touch my arm, grab my hand, or say hello.”
just something like that, it doesn’t have to be exact. around this affirmation, i say something like “my guides are protecting me from any negative spirits, tricksters, or anyone who wants to harm me in any way while i am channeling. nothing i do not want to channel will affect my spirit, soul, house or family.” or something similar. i’m usually more casual with it lmfao
while affirming, i always notice and take note of where the little voice in my head is coming from. is it at the front of your head? near one of your temples? towards the back? any way, take note of it, because it will come in handy when confirming they are with you.
3. CONFIRMATION THEY ARE WITH YOU
to confirm a spirit is with you, simply ask for a sign.
it’s as easy as that! ask them to touch you, give you a certain smell, remind you of a specific scenario, so on and so forth! this is where the other clair’s can come an and are helpful :)
now, when they speak or communicate with you, i want you to recognize where their voice is speaking in comparison to yours. for me, i usually hear lokis {father} voice on the far upper left of my head, while lilith is more towards the back.
when channeling, sometimes you will see or hear things — and this is because you’re more connected to the spirit world. when channeling lilith, i see a slightly red energy, when channeling loki, i see a green energy, when channeling my friends s/o (when i did) i used to see red feathers/wings. and this was all with my eyes wide open. i didn’t see them in the 3d, rather in the 4d. it’s really fun btw! just make sure to take note of them.
another thing i suggest is asking them facts. their hair colour, their eye colour, when you met, their birthday, whatever. that’s just for confirmation.
4. CHAT AWAY
you’re talking to someone important to you! have a conversation when you get to them! don’t let me guide you!!
5. ENDING A CHANNELING SESSION
the way i end channeling sessions is literally by saying “i am cutting off my channeling line. i can not be accessed unless it is important or necessary.” or something like that.
sometimes i literally forget and the spirits will leave lmao. it’s that simple.
EXTRA — TIPS!!
when channeling, be open and ready. you can be told things you don’t want to hear, and that’s okay! just keep going with it.
remember — the person you’re channeling is a soul too! don’t try to control them or hurt them emotionally. they have feelings.
you can feel things while channeling! be careful with this. spirits can make unwanted advances. although i have never had it happen to me, be prepared.
you can accidentally channel!! i’ve done this before with my s/o. everything felt different and i felt his presence. neither of us said a word, but rather just stayed with each other <3
try channeling with pinterest!! set the intention to channel someone and you can get their messages through pinterest. make sure not to go with your algorithm though, because you could be tricking yourself!! <3
DONT MAKE THIS A SUBSITUTE FOR YOUR DR/WR!!! can you talk to the people? yeah! but you’re not with them. don’t let channeling hold you back from shifting, okay?
i love u all!! i hope this helps someone along with u anon!! there are so many more ways to channel, and my friend actually taught me <3 i really really hope u can channel and have fun with it
#abyss .speaks#reality shifting#shiftblr#reality shift#shifting#desired reality#shifting community#black shifters#shifting motivation#channeling#channeled message#channeled messages#witchblr#baby witch#christian witch#witch tips#witchcraft#witch#abyss .answers
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just say it, ditto: eren jaeger
— i got nothing to lose, i keep falling for you; ra ta ta ta, there goes my heart.
eren jaeger x female reader
summary: each note eren's heart sings is about you. it's only a matter of time yours sing about him, too.
word count: 6.8k
notes: i am proud to say that this is my comeback in posting full fics here. now watch me never posting one after months. jk. but still, i'm rusty when writing longer fics so i hope you enjoy this one! treat this as a gift for being one of the 2,000 people who made this blog possible <3 + it's pretty obvious newjeans is my favorite kpop group rn oop
— You’ve long since given up on relationships.
How many partners has it been since the start of university? With how that sounds, one will think that you’ve been breaking hearts around Paradis University; notorious for being a heartless individual with no value for the depth of emotions. That assumption rings false. One hand can sum up everything romantic you’ve experienced but these relationships felt longer than the time span they actually had that you’ve lost count of them. Everything becomes hazy to a point that everything morphs into a misty film reel, unlike the rose-colored lens you’ve always seen the world with even without the pretense of falling in with someone. You’re not one to be desperate for this fickle thing called love but every once in a while, you crave blanketing words that make you see flowers, unbridled laughter amidst piles of note revisions and readings, and hugs that feel like a warm cup of coffee in a chilly night of loneliness.
Your relationships always end in the same way — they couldn’t handle the way that you see and do things; the way you have to be the last one to have the say in an argument, how you should be left alone when you’re too immersed in finishing your tasks, or when you have the tendency to be absent despite being there for them (if that makes any sense). They say you’re too focused on your goals (there’s nothing wrong with trying to finish college just to be in one of the country’s best medical schools) or you’re too snarky and blunt for them to handle (you have a bad day when this happens).
So, you just let them go. Let them win.
It’s not that you’re tired of those repeating circles of words but because they’re right. You’ve been too snarky, picky when you’re eating something, focused on your future, never clingy for someone to be called a significant other — you just don’t have the strength to continue having those relationships even though you’ve seen the world in pink when you’re with them.
The break-ups all end on a sour note, like the time you’ve been given a piece of candy without being told it’s the sourest shit on the planet. Maybe that is why you’ve been scared of romance, to begin with — the appearance may seem sweet but you’ve taken a bite, and everything takes a turn for the worse. Yeah, you understand that relationships can have their ups and downs; but when you’ve heard your boyfriend talk to his friends about how you’re so irritating and downright rude most of the time, him crossing the line as he said that this specific girl from the other class is far sexier than you can ever be and that he wants to fuck her instead (coupled with a few explicit crafting of words that disgusted even your most open-minded friends) … You have already dropped the paper bag filled with his favorite food.
That’s just one of the break-ups. God knows how much patience you have for going through much worse.
Besides, you like spending your junior year with fewer worries than the previous years.
But sometimes, you always think of how lonely you are; like what does it feel like to have someone so patient that they assure you they’re always there for you? Or to feel so secure in a relationship that it’s like a warm fireplace, which can go on for so many hours keeping you warm and safe? You swear you don’t want your heart broken again but you still crave that rush love brings to you.
It doesn’t help that you see these things in your best friend.
Eren Jaeger is someone who you completely met by chance back in freshman year, back when you were all about making sure that your marks are pristine and that your parents can have another opportunity in being the proudest that they can get.
You remember him lingering in the doorway of your dorm room, something that you were wary about until he turned around to face you with this comical teary face that didn’t fit in with his overall broody aesthetic. He claimed that Mikasa, his best friend, and practically sister since they grew up together in the same house and your roommate, accidentally took his wallet back to your dorm room. One thing you know about Mikasa in the three weeks you’ve roomed with her is that she sleeps like a bear in hibernation. So, you unlocked the door to your dorm room and told him that there was nothing to worry about because you’d get his wallet and attached keys. That way, he could have his merry way home and he would be a passing face in university. Until he invited you to have dinner with him as thanks.
You accepted since it was free food and you just got out of a three-hour lecture.
The rest is history. It was there you got to know Eren as more than just Mikasa’s childhood friend. He asked you why you picked your major, you asked him how he was faring in his — the night ended with you two exchanging numbers and following each other on your socials.
He’s seen all of your failed relationships. While Mikasa tears up with you and Armin consoles you by rubbing your back, Eren is the embodiment of anger.
He once threatened to storm out of your dorm room to fight your ex after one break-up that had you picking up the broken shards of your self-esteem and confidence. He didn’t even hear Mikasa shouting for him to calm the fuck down but all it took was for you to plead for him to stay and never make a wrong decision.
“Eren, just stay,” your breath hitched with how hard you were crying. The break-up drained you for an entire day. Your ex dared to lay out every wrong and insecurity you felt to make him feel protected — that he would have a better relationship if he went out with the girl he met a few weeks after you two started dating. You look up at Eren, your bottom lip wobbling. “Don’t go out there.”
His entire demeanor softened. Walking to you, he sat on his haunches in front of you, his stare never wavering as he regarded the way your tears made your eyelashes clump together. Why’d you had to be pretty even when crying? He pushed the thought away and clasped the hands wringing the material of your skirt into both of his. The door behind you two closed — an indication that Mikasa gave you two the privacy you both needed, the girl decided to spend the rest of the day with Armin, who was begging to be updated on what was happening to you. Eren was sure the two of them would buy some groceries, anything you prefer, just to make you feel better. They’re awesome like that. Everything blurred into nothing when you’re in his view. You kept silently crying and while he still found you beautiful, he was itching to start a fight with that asshole of an ex you had.
Eren lifted your entwined hands to his lips, kissing them and making time stop. “I’m going to beat him,” he murmured against your knuckles.
You shook your head.
“He made you cry.”
You still shook your head, bowing to curtain your face with your hair.
“I hate it when someone makes you cry.” He gulped down the nervousness clogging his throat. “I fucking hate it when they managed to make the most amazing person fall in love with them and just break her heart after. Sweetheart, you don’t deserve to be treated like this.” The term of endearment flowed from his tongue like it was meant to — natural. “You deserve so much more than this. You deserve…” Was he about to say, me? What the fuck was he thinking? Now, he was the one who shook his head, mainly to dispel the thought from his head. “You know,” his voice was so quiet, “someone is willing to give you the love you deserve and it will take some time to meet them.”
You took your hands from him and he panicked. Did he say something wrong? Synonymous thoughts pulsed through the walls of his head, that was until you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. With the way he was still sitting on his haunches, his face became buried in your chest. It was almost like you were the one comforting him and not the other way around. He should be the one doing the comforting but God damn it, your warmth made him melt in everything that you encompassed — scent, presence, just you and only you.
“I’m tired of finding that love.”
“You have me — us, Mikasa, Armin, and the rest of our friends,” the way he saved himself was pathetic.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“You know I love you, right?”
Damn, there went that squeeze around his heart. He knew the meaning behind those words. You meant it in a more platonic manner because you never once said those three weighty words to your ex-boyfriends. Those who had the luxury to receive the phrase from you were your friends and it sadly included him. He didn’t want to walk around in this position. He wanted to be more. But that would mean you discovering his feelings for you. And yes, they ran deeper than the trenches discovered by mankind. You made him feel that kind of love — the type that gave him butterflies, tornadoes, bonfires, and all the seasons combined. You were the reason why he smiled most of the day, the reason why he looked at everything through a lens that presented all the colors in the spectrum and not just the usual hazy pink.
“Eren?”
He buried his face deeper in your chest, the song of your heartbeat lulling him. He wished it was faster like the way his own tapped inside him.
“I know.”
He once again masked everything by saying the words back, with more ferocity and affection and intensity than yours did.
“I love you, too.”
That day was the reason why you stopped entering into relationships not worth your time.
You deserve a love that is more than what you seek from forgettable faces.
So, you focus on yourself … and the way Eren makes you question these budding feelings now that junior year rolls around.
“Where did you get this?” Eren asks when he trails his eyes on your hand sitting idly on top of the desk the private study rooms of the library offer.
He’s sitting beside you trying to get some work done before finishing the study session and getting some food from the nearby restaurants in the university town (which is a short walk from the library you both chose). What should be a group session becomes a pair because apparently; Mikasa has to go prepare for her mock trial with the rest of her class, Armin has to finish the pending experiment his group is doing for one of his laboratory classes, Jean has to be a fucking responsible teaching assistant for once in his life, Sasha has to cover some restaurant for her review (the deadline being later at midnight), and Connie has to attend his goldfish’s funeral (he doesn’t have a goldfish; their dorm building doesn’t even allow pets).
You find their excuses plausible except for Connie, bless his soul and his imaginary goldfish. So, now you spend the rest of the free day with Eren in the library, booking one of the study rooms for some well-deserved peace. You’re listening to some of your favorite songs when he speaks, catching his lips moving at the corner of your eyes.
“Hmm?” you hum while pulling down your headphones around your neck.
“This.” The moment he takes your hand in his, your heart starts pacing faster. “Where did you get this?” Eren carefully and softly runs his finger on the spots of red on the skin of two of your fingers. The scars seem fresh because you flinch. “Sorry,” he whispers.
“I didn’t realize I had that until Mikasa pointed it out actually,” you answer him.
He winces. “You don’t have any band-aids?”
You shake your head. “I forgot to buy some.” The way he stares at you makes you pout. “I did forget, Eren.”
“Yeah, yeah, got that.”
You’re about to go back to studying when you feel a pair of lips graze the scars on your hand. Time slows down and you swear you witness the room illuminate. Eren has his eyes closed, his long eyelashes tickling your skin. You forget to breathe when he opens them to give you the sight of his teal irises reflecting your wide-eyed image. His lips are still on your hand, the tingling sensation of his growing smile traveling through your arm and to your chest, warming up every part of your body until you feel your face flare. The gesture is completely new to you.
“There,” Eren says. “Tell me if the pain starts acting up,” he pulls back and leans on his chair, your hand still tenderly cradled on his palm. “I’ll take it away.”
You take your hand from his and hide it from behind the sleeve of your fluffy cardigan. You try to bring back your concentration but all you can think of is the feeling of his lips on your fingers. While you’re berating yourself, you never notice Eren grinning beside you, his heart thankful that your friends ditched you two in this study session.
It’s only when you two walk to your favorite restaurant that you register how annoyingly cheesy all that was.
Today is not your day.
You’re walking in the halls of your department building and even with the flow of liveliness surrounding you, all you hear are muffled noises and the deafening footsteps echoing on the floor. You were doing fine when you entered your first lecture of the day — more than usual it seemed. The friends you made in some of your classes saw how you cackled near tears at some unfunny joke that shouldn’t warrant that much hysterical laughter. Nobody would even suspect that you feel so sucked of all the vibrancy you always carry in the pockets of your jeans after continuous periods of sitting on different-structured chairs and having to participate in some impromptu recitations. You love being in university — you really do. It’s just that there are certain aspects of it and specific time frames that you have to admit how exhausted you are. So, as your friends chatter around you, you keep your head angled to the floor, your hands keeping the laptop case close to your chest.
The conversation unfolding in your presence is interesting but all you can manage are tiny hums of agreement or weak chuckles. The subject switches from enduring another period of recits, to the laboratory reports that needed to be turned in, to how there should be another store in the university town that sells any kind of food, and to who is the reddest flag among your peers. It’s almost like you’re watching shows with your father — always flipping the channel until he finds the one he’s most comfortable with.
Your mind is both empty and running a thousand miles per step. Sleep beckons you in a way that you have no say over. You’re pretty sure Mikasa is going to cook something delectable as always — that’s one thing you’re looking forward to when you go home to your shared apartment. A heavy sigh comes out of your chest, lifting your shoulders from the weight Atlas transferred on you.
Looking at the floor becomes bland and you have to lift your eyes to what’s in front of you.
Right at the end of the hallway, where the building lets the outside light pass through the entrance and exit doors, are Eren and some of his classmates, probably just coming out of a recent class, judging by their sluggish nature. You two share the same department building despite having different majors — him with his pre-med and you with neuroscience. You recognize some of them in the group photos Eren was tagged in on Instagram, like that boy with auburn hair who sneers every time someone so much as breathes within the same space as Eren or that boy with the slicked-back blond hair and army green bomber jacket. And in the middle of the group is one of your best friends, teal eyes hooded with boredom and hair tied up in that effortless bun he likes so much. He doesn’t see you yet and you have the urge to call out to him but you don’t find the energy to. Your social battery is already on the brink of shutting down and guilt starts dripping into your stomach.
Almost like he senses you, Eren meets your eyes.
He stops in the middle of the hallway with his hands in his pockets and eyebrows furrowed. You keep walking with your now curious friends. Who is this guy staring at us? Wait, he’s kinda hot though. Damn it, now I have another crush in this stupid university. You can hear them talking but you see nobody but him, your sneaker-clad feet carrying you closer to him.
With only a few paces separating you from him, he retracts his hands from his pockets and opens his arms with that lax posture of his. His friends are looking at him like he’s crazy but you know what he’s doing.
Your lip wobbles and you let out a shaky breath. You’re walking faster now. Just a couple of steps away.
Eren wraps his arms around you once you reach him.
He threads his fingers through your hair, cradling your head close to his chest, while his other arm secures you to his body, silently pleading for you to never stray far. There’s a pounding in the air, with you not knowing whose heart composes the vivace tune; because right now, you can feel your heart racing despite the calm Eren induces in you.
You two stay like that — suspended at the moment. Nothing in the world matters except for you two. Words aren’t exchanged. The moment Eren sees you walking that way, he instantly knows. You have that connection with him. One look is all it takes for him to swoop in and let you feel that you have someone to lean on as he leans on you. You feel that sentiment in the way he slightly tightens his hold around you, pressing you more so that all you can hear is his breathing and his unsaid thoughts. The scent he carries entangles with yours, similar to how your hearts beat in complement to one another. You bury your face in his chest and he buries his own in your hair. The exhaustion makes your joints creak and your dim world seeps away the longer he softly scratches your scalp with tender strokes.
You nearly cry as his lips seal this moment with a firm kiss on the crown of your head.
“I got you,” Eren whispers to your ears only. “I always got you.”
Shit, there goes your heart.
“Your next lecture is still an hour later, right? Let’s go get some coffee.”
For the first time in months, hope blossoms and you willingly let it fester.
“You okay?” Mikasa asks you as soon as she gets inside your shared apartment. She slides her tote bag from her shoulder, all the while never taking her eyes off you as you stare at nothing in the living room, your revisions and notes scattering the coffee table. “Babes?” The term of endearment is so natural between you and Mikasa but you’re so out of it that you don’t hear her call for you. “[Name].” She taps your nose with the tip of her finger.
“Oh, welcome home,” you greet once you get out of that daze.
Mikasa looks at you a second longer and places her hand on your forehead.
“Mikasa?”
“No signs of fever,” she murmurs, cupping your face in her hands. “You’re not overworking yourself again, are you?” Her voice gains that stern tone. Trust Mikasa to always pull you to the ground whenever you have one of those study sprees, only having coffee for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. “You know it hurts me to see you overworking. Hold on, let me whip up something for you.”
How can you tell her that you’ve been feeling unproductive because of her closest person? Because of that little heartstopping moment earlier, you’ve been in a constant spiral, neglecting your school work even when you already laid out everything in front of you. This isn’t like you at all — you’ve never been distracted because of a guy. You wonder what’s so different now. Eren has hugged you multiple times in the past and you even initiate most of them. So, why are you starting to sift through your memories with him and watching them in these pink-hazed 3D glasses? Every smile, every laugh, every eye contact that has you feeling like you’re the only person in the world for him … or just the way he makes your day better just by being there. You remember all the times he was about to storm across the cafeteria upon seeing one of your exes and the anger he embodied when he thinks of the way you’re always hurt.
This is bad — you’re seeing him differently after that hug and impromptu cafe hang-out.
The weight of that realization makes your heart race in a completely new tune, much clearer and melodic than the times you thought you experienced love in one of its forms.
“Mikasa.”
“Hmm?”
You can hear a pan sizzling from the kitchen. You remain looking at the coffee table, right at your phone lighting up with a notification, showing the world your wallpaper. Eren changed it to a picture of you two for fun. He was kissing your cheek, with you captured in a beautiful candid shot. You were laughing at the tickling sensation coming from his lips smiling against your skin. You never changed it. Mikasa chuckled to herself the first time she saw it. You could almost hear her say ‘idiots’ under her breath.
“Am I allowed to feel love again?”
You can sense your roommate turn around. It’s silent until she speaks in a clear voice, “You’re always allowed to feel love, [Nickname].”
“But what if I ruin it?”
Mikasa purses her lips. “You have never ruined anything. You might have small faults in those relationships but if your exes appreciated you just like they claimed, you wouldn’t hurt like this.” You’re still quiet and Mikasa thoughtfully turns back to make you a proper meal while continuing, “It’s okay to be afraid, [Nickname]. Falling in love is always a risk but it’s not good if you prevent it from happening. If that right someone comes, the jump you took to follow your feelings will be worth it in the end. It might cost you more heartbreaks along the way but everything will be amazing when that person is by your side.”
“And if I think I found him?”
The sound of Mikasa’s spatula stops, and the sizzle of the onions, garlic, and other vegetables persists through this pause. You take a peek at your roommate from behind the curtain of your hair, her back rigid and her hand holding the spatula hovering over the pan. “Miki?”
The girl shakes her head. “I’m sorry, I just remembered something,” she hastily tells you before swiveling to face you. Mikasa only displays emotions around certain people and you wish you could laugh at the disbelieving yet confused face she gives you right now. “You found him? And you think he’s the right someone for you?” She makes sure she doesn’t sound that skeptical to not hurt you anymore but she can’t help but feel like she’s been missing out on this recent development in your life. You've been roommates since freshman year and every time you fall in love, Mikasa is a witness to it, but not this one. This is a shock for her.
You nod at her, choosing not to use your voice this time
“Do I know this person?”
Your heart makes a flip in your chest. “Why do you ask?”
She shrugs. “Just checking. You know, to make sure. So, tell me about this lucky guy.”
“He … wears his heart on his sleeve.” A small smile tugs at your lips. “Even though that’s considered a weakness by some people, he manages to come this far by doing that. It’s one of the many things I adore about him.” You laugh a little. “He’s a little reckless most of the time. Oh, and he’s so brazen and sometimes broody, too. Those are some of the reasons why he gets into arguments with our friends. But even with all of that, he’s so attentive. The thing about people who wear their hearts on their sleeves is that they know when someone needs solace. He does that all the time and even without saying anything, my day just gets better with one hug from him.” You gain a blue blanket over yourself. “I just wish that I can give him the affection and care he’s always giving me. I know I’m bad at giving but … I’m willing to try for him.”
You look up and you feel your face heat up when you see Mikasa gawking at you. You watch as her face morphs into a rare smile that reaches her eyes. If you squint, you can see her holding back her squeal.
“And for that, I’m making this even more delicious just for you!”
And before you can call out to her, she’s going back and forth in the kitchen like a madwoman. Bewilderment is an understatement. One will think that Mikasa is the person falling in love inside this apartment and not you. A puff of laughter comes out of your lips, endeared by the sight of your best friend slash roommate being this ecstatic at the possibility of you in a stable and healthy development of feelings. You perch your chin on your propped elbow. Maybe you should hit up her favorite restaurant in the university town as a token of your gratitude, one that stems from three years of bonding.
“Confess to her.”
“Well, good-fucking-morning to you, too, Mikasa.”
It’s six in the morning on a Saturday. Eren deserves a full ten-hour cycle of sleep after that horrifying week he just survived.
“Oh, did I wake you up?”
Eren pulls away his phone from his ear and glares at it, hoping that the girl on the other side of the call picks up on this ominous atmosphere he‘s starting to create. “What do you think?” He spits, particularly snappy at anyone, even the person he grew up with, for disrupting his previously-earned slumber (for once in university, he finally has the chance to enjoy sleep without worrying over deadlines). He internally cries when he feels the last tendrils of drowsiness seep out of his skin and onto the open windows letting in a new dawn. He wants to go back to sleep but with Mikasa’s call, he pitifully kisses that goodbye.
“Sorry.” She doesn’t sound sorry.
“You don’t sound sorry,” Eren grumbles. “Why’d you call?”
A maniacal giggle tickles his ear, sending a shiver of fear down his spine.
“What the fuck—?”
“I have news.”
“Really?” He incredulously exclaims. “At six in the morning? Can’t you wait until like, what, later at noon to tell me? You know it’s my day off right now.”
“It’s about [Name].”
That catches Eren’s attention and he nearly throws himself off the bed.
“What?” He hastily stands up and fumbles to his closet for some decent clothing. “Is she alright? Is she hurt? Where is she right now? Does she need me to pick her up?” Silence is his answer. Eren again looks at his phone before putting it right next to his ear. “Mikasa? You still there?”
“Eren.”
“Yeah?”
“You have to confess to her.”
“What?”
He can feel Mikasa roll her eyes. “It’s just like I said. Confess.”
Eren slowly takes a few steps back until his knees hit the mattress, letting him on the plush mattress. “What brought this on?” It’s not the first time his best friend tells him to pour all his well-kept emotions into you, the reason for his giddy smiles and sweet nights. Just thinking of letting you know of this three-year worth of feelings makes his heart beat faster. What if you reject him? He’s seen you swerve from any romantic advances a person sends your way, he’s seen you cry over assholes who thought it was best to play with you, and he’s seen you content with this relationship you have with him. Eren sighs out a breath tainted with the scent of the yellow tulips and pink camellias sprouting in his ribcage. It’s almost pitiful how heavy his sigh is. “And why are you so sure about this?”
“I know things you don’t.”
He scoffs, running his hand through his hair, the wavy brown strands falling over his collarbone. “Look, Meeks,” the nickname is always there when he’s feeling unsure of himself, “I’ve thought about it, okay? But I can’t. I just can’t.”
“Trust me on this one, Eren. Maybe you can even thank me in the future.”
“Mikasa,” he warns.
“Eren, you have nothing to worry about. She said some things to me last night and I think you have a chance. This will be the time you can finally be with her and this will also be the time she can have someone who’s going to wholeheartedly love her in a way that she should be loved. This is your chance—”
Eren tightly closes his eyes at every word Mikasa spews out. His chest is rapidly going up and down until, “I’m scared.”
“What?”
“I’m scared,” he enunciates as if talking to a pesky sibling (which is how she’s acting right now). “I’m fucking terrified, alright?”
He curses when he feels a stinging in his eyes. He’s not about to cry right now — not when Mikasa is on the other side of the phone. He knows how she is when he cries. Eren remembers that one time he bawled his eyes out when his mother decided it would be nice to keep all his games away for one night because he was acting like a brat. Mikasa sneaked into his parents’ room in the middle of the night and successfully took his game from their closet. Thank God his parents weren’t about to give him a baby sibling that night. Nonetheless, Mikasa’s protective instincts for her friends flare when they cry. She does that with him, Armin, and especially you. You’ve practically replaced Eren as her top priority. So, right now, Eren hopes Mikasa doesn’t hear the wobble in his voice but that’s highly unlikely.
He continues, “[Name] swore off relationships after her last heartbreak during sophomore year. I’m not about to go up to her and tell her ‘Hey, I’ve been crushing on you so so bad since we were freshmen and I know you probably see me as a friend but how about that date? You look lovely by the way’. It’s not that easy, Meeks. I … freeze when those words come up.” And when you look at him with those eyes he dreams about waking up to every morning — curved like crescents with genuine happiness and love for him, Eren’s a goner. You have that effect on him. Time slows and everything dissolves into nothing when you’ve only done one thing, and that’s smiling at him. God, he’s so in love with you that the thorns are starting to sprout with the flowers. “It’s pathetic.”
With the pause on the other side of the call, Eren would think that Mikasa drops it.
“Mikasa?”
“... She’s ready to love again, Eren, and she’s ready to do it with you in the picture.”
A goddess of time, that’s what you are, because, at those words, Eren’s entire world stops.
“I won’t say exactly what she said because that would mean telling on her but,” Eren hears a smile on Mikasa’s voice, “she told me she found the right someone for her and I think, scratch that, I know it’s you, Eren. So, take the risk and confess to her, you idiot.”
“Do you think she’d accept it? My confession?”
“I’m confident that she will.”
The moment Mikasa hangs up to cook you some breakfast, Eren is already out the door.
You’re in the process of placing things in your school bag for your study session in the nearest library when the doorbell rings.
Mikasa is in the kitchen cooking up a storm, something about giving you a bento box for your grueling revisions so that you won’t have to spend a couple of dollars for a cafeteria ticket, so you’re the one closest to the front door. You leave your bag and belongings on the couch, thinking that maybe Sasha wants to join you and Mikasa for some early breakfast. But then, the girl wakes up in the middle of the day during weekends. You now wonder who’s incessantly pressing the doorbell like they’re a kid in the Halloween season begging for the owner of the house for some free candy that they will neglect after a day. You refrain from grumbling out profanities and quickly open the door without a word. The irritated cloud hanging over your head clears at the sight in front of you. It’s replaced with warmth and a soft tune emanating from your chest.
Eren looks like he’s run a marathon, hands on his knees and hunching on his back to catch his breath.
“Eren, what are you doing here?” You ask him, looking back over your shoulder to check on Mikasa. You turn back to him once you see her preoccupied with cooking. “Come in. I’ll get you some water.”
“No,” he straightens his posture, “I’m alright.” He takes a couple of deep breaths, almost like he’s trying to gather courage. You never take your eyes off him. You’ve seen him with unbound hair; but seeing it after admitting to yourself that you’re having feelings for him, it’s not exactly kind to your heart. The glow of the early sun illuminating the window at the end of the hallway creates this illusion of a halo around his head. With the smile on his face, the one that crinkles the corners of his eyes and lets his little dimple peek through, you can’t help but think that he’s here to conduct this song beating inside your chest. You only blink when he sheepishly scratches his nape and says, “Can you come out here for a sec?”
You’re about to peek at Mikasa when he adds, “Please?”
His eyes flicker behind you but he tenderly wraps his hand around your wrist before you can even turn your head and pulls you out of the doorway.
“Eren, what is this about—?”
“I’m in love with you.”
Your heart is beating a song and each note is about Eren Jaeger.
“And I have for quite some time. Since freshman year exactly. I’m so fucking in love with you that you’re the first thought I have in the morning and the memory I replay in my mind to sleep at night. You consume me, [Name], and God, I don’t know what I’d do if you start searching for love again. I don’t want you to find the one you’re looking for in someone that’s not me. Call me selfish but I decided that I'd gladly be that just to tell you my feelings. I don’t want to make a regret that will haunt me my whole life onward so, here I am, telling you how much I love you and I don’t want you with somebody else.” He’s breathing heavily again. “Woo, that feels so good to let out,” Eren murmurs under his breath, his head tilted back to blink away any sheen of tears.
Now that he’s said his piece, it’s your turn.
You can’t comprehend looking for any shed of love since you started university when it’s right in front of you — holding your hand when you cross the street, attentively listening to you as you ramble about your newest hyper fixation of the week, hugging you in the middle of the hallway when you have a bad day, kissing the scars you’re unaware of having, giving you the love and appreciation you deserve above all else … love has always been in the form of Eren, one of your best friends. You regret never seeing it come to light sooner. You place the palm of your hand over your trembling mouth. His expression wilts when he sees your teary state. They finally trickle down your cheeks as his large hands cup your face in a hold that says you’re more fragile than a lone bubble drifting in the air.
“Hey,” Eren breathes, his head ducking to meet your eyes. “Don’t cry. It pains me to see you cry.”
“But you—”
“It’s the truth. But if you feel like it’s making you sad, I’m taking it back.”
“No!” You cover his hands with yours. He blinks in surprise. “I’m just so happy, Eren.” You let out a watery laugh in between his palms.
Eren feels his breath taken away. “What?”
You nod with a large smile. “I’m happy you said those words. I,” you choke up; you haven’t received this intense of a confession in your lifetime, “because I—” he looks so expectant that a little laugh bubbles in your throat. You lean into his touch and beam the most radiant smile you ever give someone, “I’m starting to fall in love with you.” At his stunned silence, you continue. “And I’m sorry for being so late at reciprocating, but don’t worry because I’m saying it back now, Ren.”
Eren explodes, “Fuck yes!”
And then, he hugs you close, letting you hear the tumultuous beat his heart is telling you. His laughter beckons yours to bubble from your chest, molding together harmoniously as the sun fully waves her greeting to the world. He blankets you in one of his embraces, but this time, he’s taking this chance to pull you closer than usual. Eren is this happy to know you are accepting his confession and returning his feelings, how much more if you’re going to build a slow romantic relationship with him? You’re not going to lie, the thought of you and him being each other’s partners spurs spring to grow inside your chest. You place your forehead on his chest for a moment, only pulling away when he once again cups your face in his palms. The melodic laughter coming from you sings its notes with every kiss Eren gently presses on every inch of skin his lips can find. Your forehead, temples, cheeks, eyelids, nose, the corners of your mouth — and all of them tickle each butterfly tingling your stomach.
He only pauses when he’s in front of your lips. You open your eyes to find Eren staring at you with the immutable essence of love within his limbal rings. His pupils cover the majority of his iris until only a tiny ring of emerald peeks through. Your reflection is clear enough to see your wide-eyed expression. You expect him to kiss you breathlessly, erasing every thought in your brain so early in the morning, but instead, he nuzzles his nose against yours, all the while maintaining eye contact.
“We’ll take this slow, okay?” Eren whispers only for you to hear, not even the potted plant idly sitting by your apartment’s door can listen in. “I know you’re tentative but I’m willing to be patient. I will wait for you no matter how long it takes like I’ve waited three years for you to finally see me differently. And you don’t have to worry because, sunshine, I’m always here to catch you, to care for you, to love you with everything I have. So, are you willing to give me a chance?”
You hum, wrapping your arms around his neck. You nod, “Yeah. If it’s you, I’m ready to give romance a chance again, pretty boy.”
His grin can make a thousand moons shine.
“We have nothing to lose.”
“Yeah.”
“I finally have you with me.”
“I’m now with you, Ren.”
“God, sunshine, I’m so in love with you.”
"And I'm falling for you, pretty boy."
#— rory's passages 🌼#— serotonin boost 💐#eren attack on titan#eren x reader#eren x you#aot x reader#attack on titan eren#attack on titan x reader#eren jaeger x reader#eren jaeger#eren aot#attack on titan imagines#snk x reader#shingeki no kyojin#eren x y/n
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An Interview with Christine Hanefalk
Christine Hanefalk created her blog, The Other Murdock Papers, in 2007 as a place to discuss and share her interest in Matt Murdock and his world. Over the years, she has become one of the most compelling and influential voices within the Daredevil fan community, even making a cameo appearance in the comic itself in Daredevil volume 3 #31. In 2022 she published Being Matt Murdock, a passion project centered around an area of particular fascination: Matt's legendary hypersenses. The book weaves real-world science into the vast Daredevil canon to explore the notion that Daredevil's powers, though superhuman, are not – and do not need to be – as divorced from reality as one might think.
Christine was kind enough to answer my questions about the book, and about her nearly twenty-year-long fascination with the Man Without Fear. Read the interview below...
Daresplaining: I know many people will be familiar with your blog and your longtime interest in Matt Murdock's sensory world, but could you say a little about how Being Matt Murdock first came about, and how you approached writing and researching it?
Christine Hanefalk: I started The Other Murdock Papers in late 2007 and gradually allowed myself to start writing more about the scientific and sensory aspects of Daredevil as time went on. I was really worried it might turn people off, but the opposite was true and people really seemed to dig my deep dives. And so as far back as around 2012 I decided that, one of these days, I was going to try to write a whole book on the subject.
Despite the fact that it took me ten years to complete it, with most of the work being concentrated to the final 12-18 months before publication, I had actually done some writing early-on. I think I had about half of chapters one (on the literary history) and seven (on the sense of smell) written several years ago, along with various snippets and notes that I had filed away and was able to work into some of the other chapters. I had also consistently been keeping an eye out for anything new and interesting in the peer reviewed academic literature, and managed to amass – and read through – quite a collection of books on sensory neuroscience over the years.
When that “now or never” moment finally arrived, it lined up well with a period of time in my life where I was able to cut back on regular work and devote most of my time and energy to the book. I went over all of the stuff I’d already looked at before but with more focus, and got myself reacquainted with subjects I hadn’t really touched since college, such as thermodynamics. I also reread nearly all of the comics, taking very detailed notes on how and when Daredevil used his senses to get a better idea of the overall pattern. It’s not an understatement to say that I’ve spent upwards of 2,000 hours on this project over the years.
D: I understand that you were introduced to Daredevil through the 2003 movie. What drew you so strongly to Matt as a character? How much of a role has your fascination with his powers played in your continuing interest over the years?
CH: I grew up reading comics and enjoying sci-fi and superhero movies as a kid. I was born in 1977, so both the original Star Wars trilogy and the Superman franchise loomed large in my life when I got old enough to watch them. And while I eventually stopped reading superhero comics, I always had a special place in my heart for the genre and had a certain fascination with the general idea of superheroes. That eventually steered me in the direction of the Daredevil movie when it was released in video stores (I don’t think it even went up in theaters in my native Sweden).
The specifics of Matt Murdock’s power set was definitely one thing that gave this character an unusual kind of appeal to me. I had always been interested in the science of the senses – and what happens when one is missing – and had even written a paper on sensory compensation for my neuroscience class while I was an exchange student at the University of Rochester around the turn of the millennium.
There were additional things that made Daredevil interesting of course, such as his career as a lawyer, his overall personality, and the general mood of the world he inhabited, but the combination of his power set and my already having a soft spot for superheroes definitely piqued my interest right away. Within a few months of learning that Daredevil even existed, I had read pretty much everything he had ever appeared in.
D: Do you have a favorite sense, both in terms of your own research and as a Daredevil fan?
CH: I think I probably enjoyed researching hearing the most since there’s so much to cover. It’s also fascinating to me how hearing can be called on to perform spatial functions despite having this deceptively simple, linear, time-dependent form in terms of how it is received by the ear. The fact that it’s possible, even for quite ordinary humans, to sort of “see-hear” silent objects is fascinating to me.
However, if we look at Daredevil, I’d say that hearing has tended to be overused compared to both smell and touch. While hearing is often called on to perform near transcendental duties, smell tends to be forgotten by a lot of writers, probably in large part due to the fact that we humans seem to be less conscious of smells than we are of other sensory input. For the entire history of the comic, Daredevil has often gone several issues without any reference to smell, and the things he’s been smelling have often tended to not be very interesting. It’s always a treat to see smell being used in creative ways.
Still, the sense I would be even more interested in seeing more of in Daredevil is probably touch, which I also think is used less than it could be. Sure, there’s plenty of reading by touch (print or braille), but I still think we might be underestimating the importance of touch in Matt’s life, due in part to the high expectations of the radar sense (whatever we make of it). I view the “radar” as absolutely vital to everything Matt does as Daredevil, but I also see a much greater potential role for touch to work synergistically with such an ability.
D: Do you have a favorite new fact that you learned over the course of researching this book?
CH: Yes. I do think my coming across Jacob Twersky’s writing helped solidify the idea I had about how the concept of the radar sense may have originated. Blinded in childhood, Twersky would go on to become a champion collegiate wrestler, and later a historian and author. I read both his 1954 novel The Face of the Deep and his 1959 autobiography The Sound of the Walls while working on my own book. The way Twersky describes his sense of the obstacles around him in The Sound of the Walls struck me as shockingly similar to early descriptions of Daredevil’s radar sense, including the use of the term “radar” itself.
While I can’t know for sure whether anyone at Marvel was familiar with Twersky’s writing, it’s worth noting that he was a New Yorker and a contemporary of Stan Lee and many of the others in the Marvel bullpen back in the day. Whatever the case may be, it’s clear that the Marvel creators were not the first to use the word “radar” to describe the “obstacle sense of the blind,” as it was often known at the time. Over the years, and especially after having studied the early issues in great detail, I’ve definitely come to favor the idea that the “radar sense” wasn’t meant to be understood as a literal (electromagnetic) radar, though I should add that the understanding of the radar seems to have been all over the place for most of Daredevil history. Reading Twersky definitely added considerable weight to my interpretation of the early radar sense.
I also had some favorite epiphanies connected to the radar sense, one in particular which I think explains why Daredevil’s very particular way of being blind is often so difficult to make sense of for writers and fans alike. I recently wrote a rather lengthy post covering much of that stuff.
D: While taking a renewed deep dive into the source material, did you find yourself changing your opinion on anything?
CH: I should preface this by saying that there are definitely things I’ve changed my mind about over the years, even before I started most of the work on the book. I mentioned above that my understanding of the radar sense has shifted gradually, away from the more literal take the name suggests. Looking at the comics very carefully gives you even more of a sense that pinning down anything concrete here is going to be really difficult.
Revisting the comics has also given me a new appreciation for certain runs, such as the pre-Miller Bronze Age issues. This process has also led me to reassess my earlier assumptions that Daredevil’s senses have gone through some kind of steady evolution from Silver Age goofy to modern and grounded. This really isn’t the case, especially when you exclude some of the early outliers. You can find plenty of examples of both nonsensical and absolutely brilliant “senses writing” throughout the history of the comic, but I wouldn’t say that the treatment of the senses, or Matt’s blindness, have necessarily become more grounded on average.
D: You go into great detail about how much of Matt's sensory world has not been explored yet on the page. Is there any particular, specific experience that you would love to see depicted in future runs or adaptations?
CH: Contrary to what people might expect of me given my priors, I don’t necessarily think that there needs to be more stories about his senses, blindness and so on. However, I think these aspects of the character should be viewed as absolutely essential to how Daredevil is written, no matter what the particular storyline happens to be. I make a point in the book about how Daredevil is an amazingly interesting thought experiment, and I really believe that. So I’d really just wish for writers to be more comfortable running their scenes and stories through whatever their own version of this thought experiment happens to be and making sure that what’s on the page makes sense in light of that.
D: While researching other superpowered blind characters from the comics world and beyond, did you discover any new favorites? Can we expect a spin-off blog about Doctor Mid-Nite?
CH: Ha ha, no. It’s enough of a challenge keeping up with The Other Murdock Papers these days. As regular readers have undoubtedly noticed, I’ve been considerably less active there in recent years, having to do with work on the book as well as other real life stuff that’s competing for my time and attention. I do expect it to live on for many more years though, and I do update every once in a while. I’m definitely looking forward to writing about Daredevil: Born Again when that comes out, and we also have Echo coming out in early 2024.
D: What is your biggest Daredevil sensory pet peeve?
CH: To be honest, what bothers me more than all of the silly things put together is the suggestion that Daredevil can “see better than all of us,” is “not really blind,” and so on. As much as this might sound like the whole point of the character, it also takes much of the complexity out of what Daredevil does and how he does it. As blanket statements go, it just doesn’t hold up to scrutiny, unless we radically redefine what sight is, and what the other senses – even when heightened – actually do.
D: I love the scene in volume 3 #26 when Matt evades Ikari by changing his heart rate, even though logic would suggest that Ikari could still track him using his other senses, or even just other sounds. Do you have any favorite DD moments where you let sensory weirdnesses slide just because the scene is so compelling?
CH: While it’s a whole issue rather than a single scene, I really enjoyed what Mark Waid and Chris Samnee were attempting to do with the story that sees Matt attempt to escape Latveria while losing all of his senses. The scene I’m choosing to let slide here is when Matt seems to develop some kind of heat vision (it’s frankly unclear what it’s supposed to be) as his body tries to compensate. Whenever you see hints of thermal imaging in Daredevil, that’s an indication that he’s doing something that’s much further removed from how his senses should work than most people realize. It’s not something that follows naturally from heightened senses and is more like an entirely different kind of superpower.
I definitely tend to give a writer much more slack when 1) I'm enjoying the writing overall, and 2) said writer compensates to some degree by doing a good job of exploring, or at the very least remembering, that Matt is in fact blind.
D: What are your hopes for this book in regards to the impact it might have on how Daredevil is written in the future? What are the key takeaways that you hope fans and/or potential future Daredevil creators pull from it?
CH: If people reading this interview haven’t read Being Matt Murdock they may get the impression that it’s all a long list of “don’ts” or “can’ts,” but that’s a far cry from what I’ve attempted to do. I remember reading another superhero science book a few years ago that seemed to have as its central premise that “superpowers are stupid,” which didn’t feel particularly gratifying. I don’t see it that way at all. Sure, there are certainly characters whose powers read more like magic than anything else, but I don’t necessarily mind that. We don’t have to hold every character to any kind of scientific standard, and there definitely comes a point when taking this too far just takes the fun out of it.
When it comes to a character like Daredevil, however, I feel very strongly that bringing science into the picture has the potential to aid in the creative process rather than hinder it. Daredevil is relatively unusual in that he can exist comfortably in a kind of “reality next door.” His powers are not possible in our own universe, but they are not so far removed from our normal understanding of things that we can’t attempt to make sense of them and imagine what life would be like from his perspective. Because while no one has super hearing, most of us do have regular human hearing which detects the measurable and explainable phenomenon of sound.
There are naturally things about Daredevil that not even loosening the reins of biology will address – for instance, even a science-minded writer is likely going to have to break some of the laws of the physics of sound – but understanding how these phenomena unfold in the real world helps create a good structure for how Daredevil might operate. And I feel like I’ve come pretty close to presenting a coherent “view” of the world from Daredevil’s perspective in this book.
It would definitely be a dream come true to have this book inspire future Daredevil writers, but I obviously don’t have much control over that kind of stuff. I’ve been able to give out plenty of copies to past writers and artists though, ha ha. I would want incoming writers to know that science is their friend. And that understanding some of the science makes Daredevil even more fascinating.
D: If you were given the opportunity to actually experience the world the way Matt does for a day, would you take it?
CH: Absolutely! Mind you, I probably wouldn’t want to do it for longer than a day or two and I very much appreciate my standard issue eyesight, but I think it would be fascinating to explore his world. Though in this thought experiment, I would assume that I could experience things the way he does after years of getting used to it so it’s not too much of a shock to the system. Unlike what happened in the delightfully ridiculous story where Daredevil switched bodies with Doctor Doom, and Doom appeared to adjust on the spot and couldn’t even figure out that he was now blind, I would expect it to take months or even years to learn to navigate the world the way Matt does (superhero acrobatics not included). And it’s not just about being able to integrate different amounts and kinds of sensory information. It’s also a matter of acquiring the strategies that allow for combining this sensory information with real-world knowledge in order to handle the many ambiguities which remain in a world organized around people with a more standard set of human senses.
D: Do you have any book/article/etc. recommendations for someone wanting to expand their reading on the topics explored in the book?
CH: Among the books I’ve read that I would recommend for general audiences is David Eagleman’s The Brain: The Story of You as a good introduction to the brain. If people want to progress from there I also recommend Brainscapes by Rebecca Schwarzlose. I don’t make any explicit references to Brainscapes in my book, but it’s a very solid read for anyone who wants to learn more about the role of “brain maps” in guiding our experiences. For the senses themselves, there’s The Universal Sense by Seth S. Horowitz (about hearing), and What the Nose Knows by Avery Gilbert.
Another book I read years ago that is sort of “on-topic” is A Sense of the World: How a Blind Man Became History’s Greatest Traveler by Jason Roberts. It’s not one I reference in my own book, but I guess it’s “Daredevil adjacent.” It tells the absolutely fascinating true story of James Holman (1786-1857).
D: Beyond Being Matt Murdock and your blog, is there anything else you would like to promote/mention here?
CH: Not for the time being. Maybe there’ll be a second edition of Being Matt Murdock one day, but I don’t have any such plans for the foreseeable future. What I would like to do is take the opportunity to encourage people to tackle their own passion projects. For me, finalizing this project came down to realizing that if I were to be told I only had a year to live, I would want to prioritize finishing this book. That’s how much it meant to me. And when you feel that way about something, try to do whatever you can – as much as your current circumstances will allow – to give yourself that gift. Tackling something like this can be very daunting, and I definitely had to get over my fears of making mistakes and putting myself out there in order to do this. But I’m really glad that I finally did.
For more fun facts and information on Being Matt Murdock, and to purchase your own copy, visit www.scienceofdaredevil.com
For more of Christine Hanefalk's writing, visit www.theothermurdockpapers.com
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I feel like the abundance of smut fics has seriously began to destroy fandom😭
like the fact that some one can post a couple twt porn links or a short “omg he would choke you and spit in ur mouth” and write the names of half the cast and it gets thousands of likes while actual amazingly written fics are maybe getting 100????
i completely agree <33
even for active writers, there are so many on here that get discouraged from writing longer fics or non-smut fics bc they know it will get significantly less notes. so many of my moots have even said they’ve stopped writing certain things bc of this. so when new blogs pop up, they’ll also see that’s what they can post to get a following, and putting a tiny paragraph that’s not character specific or a ton of links from the same twitter porn account is so much easier than taking the time to write. it just drowns out the rest of us in the tags too.
even from my personal experience… i feel like i am now a decently sized blog, but i was pretty small until just recently, when i wrote kinktober and some other short form nanami nsfw fics. and i talked abt this a couple months ago, but that is not my preference to write. so when i got a handful of people coming onto my page from that … i just don’t want anyone to expect that from me.
again, i am not bashing any short fic nsfw writers bc those in themselves are challenging to write & i appreciate that. but when 1k or less word smut drabbles and twt links becomes the norm and people expect that or refuse to read any other content, i see a major issue :/
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A Breakdown of My Thoughts On Good Omens S2
(That may or may not also be a meta about my predictions for the future interwoven in)
Hey All!
All right, I’ve officially watched Good Omens Season 2 twice, and am almost done my third time through, and I want to put out some thoughts before I start reading other people’s meta about S2 so that my initial thoughts aren’t influenced by those. I was GOING to post it to my GO blog @inevitably-ineffable-husbands first, but decided instead to make the initial post here since this is my largest audience (my GO blog is mostly a reblog blog, but it’s been pretty active the past week with people sending me asks there!).
During my second watch-through, I took some notes about stuff I wanted to expand upon. This got a bit messy, long, and disorganized so I tried to just clean up those notes so they’re more legible. I think I inevitably want to write separate meta about each section, especially after my next few rewatches (AND especially since I want to talk more about 3 or four Big Thoughts that I have about S3).
This meta turned out to be a lengthy essay-style meta with a few bits of point form and free thoughts, broken into sections for easier consumption, so I hope you will give it a read through. It’s longer than I intended (it’s about 5,000 words), so if you need to pause anywhere, I’ve conveniently broken it up into sections below the cut, which you can see the breakdown of here:
Before The Beginning
Crowley is A-Major-Angel Theory (or The Angel That Crowley Might Actually Have Been)
Maggie and Nina (Mirrors. It’s about mirrors)
The Ineffable Bureaucracy (MORE MIRRORS YAY I LOVE DYING!)
Crowley and Aziraphale (& Their Relationship Arc) (which includes my thoughts on THAT moment and why it was wrong)
The Metatron and Aziraphale’s Decision (I actually covered a large chunk of this on THIS POST so you can read just that if you want instead)
Other Things (That I Didn’t Know Where Else to Put)
Final Thoughts
Also, so it’s not hidden under the cut, here are the things I’m interested in expanding upon in the future, if you guys would like to read more. The first one is the only “for sure” one on my plate right now:
A Thought on AziraCrow from an A-Spec Perspective [REDUX]: An expansion on the above-linked meta I put out a week ago about their relationship arc and how I feel it’s being portrayed and what it means foor the future.
THAT Scene Small Thoughts: And its importance RIGHT NOW and why the confession will be so much more powerful in S3. Actually I think I MIGHT cover this in the AziraCrow meta, but I DO want to expand upon the scene anyway regardless.
And I don’t have many things to say as of finishing this meta, but I would like to put out my thoughts on why Aziraphale made That Choice. (EDIT: It would be an expansion on THIS POST which would include some points I made under the cut in the various sections, compiled together. I know I’ll have more thoughts as the weeks move on and as I understand the scene more and more).
Anyway, I hope you enjoy what I’ve written! The next meta I’d like to tackle is the Relationship Redux meta, provided that the asks I got in my inbox aren’t going to take up too much of my time.
Feel free to add your thoughts in the reblogs and replies as usual! I welcome other opinions and thoughts, and I will try my best to keep all the threads together. This blog is and will always remain a community project! :)
PLEASE be advised, in that case, that Spoilers WILL BE in the notes, and OBVIOUSLY there are spoilers below the cut for the entire season! Cheers, and thank you! Enjoy!
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BEFORE THE BEGINNING
I have running theory that’s kind of on strings right now, but I feel like Aziraphale feels responsible for Crowley’s Fall, that he feels he didn’t do enough to help prevent it, which may explain his actions in Episode 6.
Now, I’m not saying that the entire reason he spends so much time with Crowley is because of some underlying guilt, NOT AT ALL (just a small part of it), but more that he feels like he could have done more to dissuade Crowley from asking questions – It’s why he spends their entire lives trying to convince Crowley he is good! Aziraphale loved seeing an angel so happy with what they were doing, and his warnings were making Crowley unhappy. Instead, Aziraphale decided to compliment Crowley on his work to make him smile again. I think it’s absolutely something to note since this scene and the finale of E6 suspiciously bookend each other, meant to be compared and contrasted with each other.
When Azzie is presented with the opportunity to give Crowley back something he loved doing – being happy making galaxies – Aziraphale took it, because he knows how much Crowley struggles with his own sense of self.
Unfortunately, Azzie thinks Crowley’s inner turmoil is because of who he is and his status as a demon, not because Aziraphale is literally his whole raison d’être and why Crowley keeps coming back to him – he’s only ever truly happy being around Aziraphale.
Crowley, in turn, has become Azzie’s own reason for being, he just sadly hasn’t come to that conclusion yet at this point in the story. Aziraphale thinks that by being the Supreme Archangel, he will have the authority to make things RIGHT, not knowing the info that we as an audience have through Crowley that that is FAR from the truth. I’ll go more into it in my Metatron section below.
Basically I’m saying that this sequence at the beginning exists to show who Aziraphale is as a person, an angel who struggles with his OWN sense of self and his desire to do good and make people happy. Aziraphale is so consumed with believing that he can change things if only he has some control over a situation, then it can all be better; he fails to see that he already has everything he wants right in front of him. He doesn’t think he can TRULY be with Crowley safely unless something changes the status quo, and he naïvely thinks that taking the job is the best way to do so. I think next season we will see Aziraphale finally understand that he CAN’T be “free” until he accepts that he and Crowley ARE better as one.
Another note I wanted to make about this is just an aside commentary: Aziraphale ABSOLUTELY was smitten by Crowley. I suspect until he met Crowley, Aziraphale had never seen another angel be so joyous in his work. It intrigued Azzie and blossomed into something-unknown in him.
Azzie was smitten since before the beginning, and that he indeed pines for Crowley. He’s just terrified about what happens After if he were to do anything about it.
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CROWLEY-IS-RAPHAEL THEORY (or another Top-Ranking Angel)
This is one of my favourite theories that circulates in the fandom, and I went into a bit of detail about this on this post here, but I want to expand more upon it briefly (hah).
I think this season further proved Crowley was A Big Angel™ before he Fell (not necessarily Raphael, but it IS the prominent theory about his identity). It’s a Big Point that I think they’ve been planting the seeds for in both seasons so that we as the audience can figure it out; maybe not exactly WHO Crowley was (the general audience wouldn’t know about the theory), more that Crowley was indeed a higher ranking angel than all of them. This could be a big reveal in S3 for the general audience, and will be the reward for the “easter eggs” that the fans picked up on.
Here are the clues that I have so far, both from the fandom theories for S1, and my own observations of S2... I have not read any meta yet as of writing this, so I probably missed some if people are talking about it:
Raphael is notably missing from the main Archangels. It’s very odd, because he was a prominent figure in a story about Abraham
When we first see Crowley in S2, we see him as the primary creator of the universe. That kind of task isn’t given to just any angel. We knew in S1 that Crowley created stars, just not the full story of it.
The only Top Angel who recognizes Crowley is Saraqael and we don’t find that out until Episode 6. They mention that the two worked together during the creation of a nebula. Saraqael is just as old as Crowley and was there Before the Beginning as well. Michael, Uriel, and Gabriel don’t recognize Crowley when they come down during Job’s trials, meaning that Crowley probably Fell before they came to be Top Level Angels.
“A throne, a dominion or ABOVE” is who Muriel said were the only angel classes that could open the file on Gabriel, and Crowley literally just opens it without issue. Crowley faffs it off as an old password (but even then, why would he HAVE an old password for a confidential file?) but I think it’s more true that he actually had and hasn’t lost the clearance he had as a higher order of angel. Muriel NEVER stated that an Archangel can open the file at ALL. BUT I think Gaiman’s Archangels are technically top of the chain so they possibly are able to open the files as well.
For shits and giggles, I actually looked into the orders of angels: Muriel’s listed angels are part of the top 4 levels of Angel rankings. Now, I know that the authors took creative liberty with Capital A-Archangels for story purposes, but it’s a very interesting thought, isn’t it? I wonder if Crowley was actually one of the first Supreme Archangels? Just something to nibble on until S3.
The INSANE power level of HALF of a bit of a small miracle from TWO people that can raise 25 dead people is very interesting thing to literally flash red in your face as if to say “THIS IS A REALLY IMPORTANT THING TO REMEMBER, DON’T FORGET IT”. Why? Why make this the catalyst of events in the series if it’s not important and won’t be brought up again? Was Crowley’s power the one that set off alarms in Heaven since his part was to hide Gabe from Heaven?
The writers have deliberately avoided giving us Crowley’s name in Before the Beginning. Crowley has a penchant for changing his name when he wants to distance himself from the past, and there’s a good chance he purposely threw away his Heavenly (dead) name to cast aside any memories of that former life. It’s not who he is anymore, nor who he wants to be ever again.
Crowley constantly references the problems with Heaven, stuff that Aziraphale seems to have no knowledge of.
Crowley has an uncanny sense of where Aziraphale is and what he’s up to at all times. Actually, he’s able to sense trouble from everyone regardless. NOW, this might be down to him just... being so smitten with Aziraphale that perhaps he’s purposely attuned his senses to him, but none of the other angels nor demons seem to be able to do this unless it’s with their own kind. Crowley seems to have it for everyone. This is an odd power for one “measly demon” to have.
I’m certain I’m missing a few other easter eggs here that were mentioned, but in the interim, I think these definitely the ones that are worth noting.
“One Character Split Into Two”
I’ve seen a theory that ties into the Angel Theory where Crowley and Aziraphale are actually two parts of the SAME angel, Raphael, and I only remembered it after I saw this quote from David and Michael’s interview:
“Well, now we’re playing one character that’s sort of split into two”
Interesting choice of words... Did one of them slip up here? I don’t think that this is the case, that it’s just me over-reading into an interview quote, but it is something I did came across in my readings of the Raphael Theory that I thought I should mention.
While trying to find a couple posts to link to for this theory, I came across this super interesting post regarding Aziraphale’s name meaning in Hebrew, and it does list ONE of the “unlikely” possibilities being that it means “Raphael is my strength”. While the author links this to be part of Crowley!Raphael theory, I kind of like it for the Duality Theory, where Crowley IS Azzie’s strength in the sense that he’s the Emotional Support Demon. Crowley IS kind and gentle and protective of Aziraphale. And Azzie, who gets his strength from Raphael Crowley, is the brains (or main single braincell carrier) of the operation.
Kind of like an overly-romantic version of soulmates, literally One Soul split into two people who are meant to find each other again and become whole.
Also, I go back to my point about their power being ASININE at less than half each. WHY IS THIS POSSIBLE? A theory: They are stronger than an Archangel’s miracle together, so it’s not absurd to speculate that it was stronger because it was finally at its full power with the SINGLE soul concocting the miracle.
Anyway, this Duality Theory is probably definitely not the case since we see them both Before the Beginning, BUT we can argue that the scene we saw was their first introduction after being split... Aziraphale just HAPPENS to zoom by, the only single angel in the area? Hmm.
I ALSO just want to say that perhaps when they body-swapped, that may have also activated dormant “together” powers within themselves? Just a little thought I had while writing this section.
Aziraphale is Raphael and Doesn’t Remember
And finally, there’s the theory that they will pull a Shyamalan and reveal that it’s Azzie that’s actually Raphael. I honestly think this is the least likely scenario, given that all the clues they’re putting in the show don’t at all point to this, other than the possible entomology of his name (I read somewhere that Gaiman initially was going to spell it Aziraphael to coincide with the naming conventions of the other Angels) could be a play on the Raphael name and it’s Aziraphale who’s actually the missing Raphael.
I don’t think it’s this at all, for the record. I just wanted to point it out since it is a theory that I’ve seen thrown around linked to the Raphael Theory.
Regardless of which theory it is, I just CANNOT get it out of my head at how often they kept bringing up elements of Crowley’s past, and I just.... mmmm. I know he’s more Important than he lets on. There’s just too many eggs dropped in this season for me to let it go without a bit of grumbling.
Or maybe I’m just looking too much into it. *shrugs* I can’t help it, reading between the lines is a hobby of mine I do so enjoy.
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MAGGIE AND NINA
UGH, I absolutely love character mirrors... I love seeing the parallels of characters and how they’re supposed to represent the protagonists in situations.
Regarding Maggie and Nina, upon rewatching the series, I see now that Nina is primarily Aziraphale’s mirror and Maggie is Crowley’s.
For Maggie, as an expansion on a drunken post during my liveblogging:
She’s smitten (”pathetically in love”) with someone just out of reach, hopelessly pining and watching from afar.
She’s STUPIDLY protective of and adores Mr. Fell and Nina.
She, like Crowley with Aziraphale, attempts to make Nina happy: She gives a record as a gift without thinking about the “after” (Crowley tends to do the same)
She’s stands up to the demons and for herself.
She’s “unloved and unloveable”, which Crowley believes himself to be
She’s the one who thought up the plans to get them out of trouble
For Nina:
Fussy and stuck in her ways
Doesn’t want to disappoint but can’t seem to do right by anyone
“we’re just friends, well, we hardly know each other” (which I believe is a line similar to one Aziraphale said in S1)
Afraid to start a new relationship for fear of not being good enough
Makes their love interest wait and hopes they’ll be there when the time is right (She will be)
Her relationship with Lindsay appears to me to be a parallel for Azzie’s relationship with Heaven, with them being "done” with Aziraphale for one too many indiscretions. Lindsay also accuses Nina of “cheating” which Aziraphale technically does with choosing Crowley over Heaven
Their inevitable NOT match-made is a gentle parallel to the painful NOT match-made by our heroes. There’s a bump in the road, and when they’re both ready, they’ll eventually get together.
Also, another thing I wanted to note here, is that Nina’s VERY heartfelt conversation with Crowley is super, SUPER important to AziraCrow’s arc, and I believe it is the catalyst to why Crowley made the decision to try to confess in Episode 6. Like, he genuinely looks like he’s re-evaluated a few things after Nina walks away. And because it was the Aziraphale mirror stating this, Crowley perhaps starts to get ideas in his head that maybe Azzie is ready to move forward, since “it certainly looks like [you’re a couple from the outside]”. Why not make it official then? Maybe Aziraphale IS just waiting for Crowley to make the move.
Food for thought.
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THE INEFFABLE BUREAUCRACY
I don’t have much to honestly say about this one, other than I am SHOCKED that it only took them 4 years to figure their shit out but our idiots still are at first base after 6000 years. Get your asses moving, idiots!
Seriously though, they’re the biggest pair of mirrors in the season, but funnily enough, I think Gabriel is Crowley’s, and Beez is Azzie’s.
Gabriel, like Crowley to Azzie, introduces human things to Beez.
Gabe questions Heaven and convinces Beez to question their side... essentially he “Falls” when the trial happens, abandoning Heaven.
Gabe throws everything away to be with Beez.
Beez is the one who learns from Gabe, just like Azzie learns from Crowley.
Beez compares themself to Aziraphale: “I imagine he took better care of you than I would have”.
Beez calling Gabe “you silly, silly angel”... Aziraphale called Crowley silly in the first half of the season.
And as an aside, just... the casual “I love you” from Gabe is like an unfiltered Crowley. Because I am certain Crowley will be the first to say it.
That’s just a super simplified version of it all, but just wanted to point it out so y’all can see where I’m coming from on why I think that.
And I REALLY BELIEVE that Aziraphale will repeat this or a similar line to Beez’s in S3:
“I just found something that mattered more to me than choosing sides.”
I think it will be the line before the climax of S3 that Aziraphale says when he finally rejects Heaven. Because that was a POWERFUL line, and it will solidify the mirrors and parallels that are all over this season. I feel like Heaven won’t suffer the same incident happening twice, so we might even finally get to see a ridiculously protective, vengeful angel Aziraphale, to rival all of Protective Crowley moments! WHAT a payoff that would be after two seasons of him just kind of sitting idly by not standing up for himself, eh?? GOD I want it.
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CROWLEY AND AZIRAPHALE (& THEIR RELATIONSHIP ARC)
I have just a few notes to immediately take away from S2, but I do plan on expanding more upon these thoughts in my Revision of my A Thought on AziraCrow from an A-Spec Perspective meta I wrote prior to S2.
In that meta I state very clearly how important their relationship and its portrayal is to me. I do concede that, because of this fact, I may be biased in my opinions about literally the entirety of S2′s relationship arc. I ADORE Aziraphale and I really see a lot of myself in him, and I can understand why he did what he did at the end, and why the “rejection” happened. But again, I will touch upon that with the revision meta.
Instead, I took some additional notes while I watched and rewatched S2 that I don’t think I can fit well into that meta without ham-fisting it in. I’ll try my best to break it into yummier sections so it’s not so messy.
Protective / Jealous Crowley (and his possible PTSD)
This point deserved its own little section, because it’s one of my favourite things this season. I love just how BLATANTLY PROTECTIVE and JEALOUS Crowley was, to the point of being near-murderous. I LOVE the confrontation scene with Gabriel so much, because it’s SO revealing to just how terrified Crowley is of Aziraphale being hurt and not being in Crowley’s life again.
I imagine he constantly replays the fire in his head: what if Crowley WASN’T there to save Aziraphale that time??? To step into fire for him??? He’s seen how bad No-Azzie would be with the Bookshop Fire, and I think he STILL believes that it was Hellfire that discorporated Azzie (not the accidental summoning circle). So imagine the psyche of a demon who is hopelessly in love with an angel, having to be face to face with the fire that he believes killed Azzie the first time and THEN have Azzie’s boss basically tell Crowley how little he thinks of Aziraphale? Ooof.
And I also will standby the fanon theory that it was Crowley who left all the fire extinguishers in the bookshop, and not Aziraphale. Bless Azzie, he knows that this is a “New Fear Unlocked” in Crowley and lets him do it to ease the anxiety.
And isn’t it funny that Crowley (aside from the 2 year lockdown) seems to have spent every waking moment keeping a steady eye on Aziraphale? He’s scared, which is why I think he might have some PTSD related to everything he’s seen that Aziraphale is blissfully unaware of.
Their Arc and The Kiss
It’s so clear to me now more than before that Aziraphale IS Crowley’s whole life, to the point of obsession. I think the final arc that Crowley has to go through before he can truly be with Aziraphale proper is learning to let Aziraphale also protect him, to loosen the stranglehold that his fear of loss has on him. That Crowley doesn’t have to shoulder everything by himself and be Aziraphale’s shadow. Because that’s what he is in S2 – a lot of scenes of them together in the modern day is Crowley trailing just slightly behind Azzie, always watching and waiting for trouble and being there for him.
I think Crowley has a genuine fear of loss of control similar to Aziraphale’s. Where Azzie’s is related to “well if I can do this thing then everything will be alright”, Crowley’s is “well if I can just keep Aziraphale safe, then everything will be alright” and that’s... not a good foundation for a relationship. Their Big Breakup had to happen for them to both realize this.
Aziraphale has NOT gone through his “lost my partner” arc like Crowley has with the bookshop fire. I go more into it in the Metatron section, but I think that Azzie’s arc will look more like Crowley being used as a leverage tool against Azzie by Heaven, and those seeds were planted in the final moments of E6. Perhaps something DOES happen when Crowley inevitably comes to his rescue, and he also “loses Crowley for good” (but we know that the totally-made-up-just-now law of parallels will bring him back, we hope).
They’re currently at the Miscommunication and Separation stage of their relationship. They’re both so scared of hurting each other that they DON’T communicate... they DON’T expose each other to “bad things” that they know and instead just focus on the good. The breakup had to happen the way it did for Aziraphale to finally Get A Clue – because I honestly don’t think he realized Crowley loved him until the kiss – and that Azzie himself wasn’t the only one with a crush on his best friend. It had to happen that way for Crowley to understand that his overprotectiveness and lying by omission only harms Aziraphale in the long run.
Listen, I think it’s possible that Azzie thinks that Crowley only did the kiss because he didn’t want Aziraphale to leave at that moment, just another “Crowley thing” that he would do. It was piss-poor timing that was at the tail end of too many emotions and anger, and it’s easy to see how Azzie could have interpreted the kiss wrong.
They both expressed wanting to be together, but misunderstandings will ensue because neither of them are good at communicating WHAT exactly "being together” entails. Crowley thinks Azzie means “working together side by side for a shitty company”. Aziraphale thinks Crowley means “just doing what we always do and having fun doing it”, both without shifting the status quo, when in fact they both mean “I can’t see myself with anyone but you and I want you forever in any way we can be, let’s please shift the status quo”.
Then Crowley made the situation worse (though I do think he was VERY brave in doing it because WE the audience know his intentions are true and honest) by adding a kiss into the mix when they’re both upset and angry at each other. Both are left crying (Aziraphale turns around when the Metatron arrives, and there’s NO reason he should unless it’s to wipe his eyes. And Crowley deliberately put his glasses back on, so I think it was to cover up the tears) and no one gets what they truly want.
I think we’ll get a payoff for this next season, when they’re finally BOTH on the same page and NOT misunderstanding each other. I think there will be a “did you mean it?” from Aziraphale, and then a verbalized “I love you (or a variation of those words)” from Crowley, and then the paralleled line of “our side” I mentioned in the Gabe & Beez section. I think there will be a better, more satisfying kiss next season. I really do have faith about that.
Other AziraCrow Things
I saw a meme that put it best: “Aziraphale fell first, but Crowley fell HARDER”. I think Crowley is more comfortable in his pining because he’s not constrained by the same hangups and “obligations” that Aziraphale has. Aziraphale is worried that it’s “sinful” to love a demon.
I mentioned this before in the Raphael section, but I want to reiterate the point about The Miracle, because it’s SUPER important that this was a big plot point. The fact that it was so strong for something apparently so minuscule according to them proves that they are better together, and now that Heaven is aware that their powers combined to create that miracle, they absolutely want to keep the two of them apart. They suddenly became very aware that Aziraphale and Crowley are RIDICULOUSLY stronger together, because if a tiny miracle can set off alarms in Heaven, what can two full miracles combined create? I feel like this is a BIG Chekov’s gun for S3.
I think a large part about why Crowley is offended by Aziraphale’s acceptance of the job offer is because Crowley is upset that he’s not enough for Aziraphale, especially when he rejected Beez’s offer for Aziraphale. His voice shakes when he asked what Aziraphale did. He’s hurt.
THE TOUCHING in this season is insane. It’s so casual and it’s EVERYWHERE. Their relationship, when it’s finally actualized, is going to be heart wrenching in a good way, the “good sort of hurt”. I truly do believe AziraCrow is endgame.
It amuses me to no end that the fact that these two idiots and their one braincell think that they can make a human relationship work when they’ve been mutually pining over each other for 6,000+ years with very little progress. And good lord, they both take their advice from fiction. It’s hilarious.
Aziraphale’s unending faith in Crowley’s “goodness” also kills me. I love that Crowley actually never wants to kill anything, he’s literally just trying to get by without getting caught, and he always gently encourages Aziraphale to do the same. He cares so much about being gentle with Aziraphale. The scene on the rock where Crowley is SO SOFT with Aziraphale melted my heart. It’s so sweet.
I LOVE that it was CROWLEY who got Aziraphale into food and drinks. It explains a LOT about why Crowley likes watching Aziraphale eat. HE did that. It was his first “gift” to Aziraphale (to his knowledge at this stage, when really it was Crowley’s smile at making the universe that really did it).
Crowley’s devotion to making Aziraphale happy while Azzie is just oblivious to how Crowley feels hurts a LOT, but I want to expand more upon this in my followup reblog to my relationship meta. I see myself SO MUCH in Azzie it’s goddamned scary.
Actually, I don’t think Aziraphale is oblivious to be mean, since he makes a point that “rescuing me makes him so happy”, BUT I think Aziraphale might misinterpret Crowley’s devotion as “Crowley wanting to do good” and not “omg he’s in love with me and wants me safe always”. Which I think is why Azzie is naïve enough to believe that Crowley actually WANTS to do good and not get in trouble for it, so thinks that Crowley will jump at the chance to go back to Heaven with him. Aziraphale always saw the rescues and the saving of children and animals on the same level – as a demon fighting against his nature – when in reality it’s a demon who just does what he wants because he cares about everything and Aziraphale happens to be at the top of that list.
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THE METATRON and AZIRAPHALE’S DECISION
This section will be short since I actually covered a large chunk of it in my Manipulation of the Metatron Meta Reply a couple days ago, so please go read that if you’re interested. The shortened, summarized version of that is this:
The Metatron is playing Aziraphale, and he’s only using Aziraphale to bring about Armageddon 2.0, using Aziraphale’s desire to be needed and useful against him. Azzie DIDN’T see what Crowley saw in Heaven when he accessed the files and I don’t think he knows about the Book of Life Threat that was the punishment for harbouring Gabriel, either. Only Crowley knew about that, but didn’t tell Azzie (again, a huge problem in their communication that needs to be worked out).
Heaven and the Metatron KNOW that Crowley is a liability and I suspect they also know how powerful they are together. They needed to drive a wedge between them, and knew Aziraphale was pure-hearted enough to believe that he could make a difference, AND that Crowley would never take up the offer that was presented given his vocal disdain for both Heaven and Hell.
And they chose Aziraphale as opposed to the other angels because the angels actually lust for the power, and that can be unpredictable. But because Azzie has ALWAYS only wanted to do Good with no ulterior motives other than to Make Everything Better, he is easier to manipulate. Crowley is the bargaining chip that will be used against Azzie if he attempts to go rogue like Gabe, that I am pretty certain about. I think that Azzie will find out about the Book of Life because they’ll place blame on Crowley for harbouring Gabriel. Aziraphale has no idea that Gabriel really didn’t have any power. The minute Gabe turned against them, a trial and ousting happened. Aziraphale got himself into a no-win situation, and upon discovering this, he’ll believe that, because he rejected Crowley, Crowley won’t come to save him this time, so to save Crowley, Azzie will go along with the plan. Crowley’s life will literally be in Aziraphale’s hands.
I’ve no idea how Crowley will find out about it (from Muriel maybe?), but Crowley’s POV will be the primary focus next season (since this season was Azzie’s) and we’re gonna see a vengeful demon and I’m here for it. Will there be a dramatic rescue or sacrifice? I think so. Not sure who the whump candle will go to, but my bet is on Crowley this time since we got Aziraphale in S1. Who knows. I’m all for “Aziraphale is hurt, so now Crowley goes feral”, but that’s a personal preference that I can get from fanfics, LOL.
Anyway, the long-short is that this job will be the wake-up call Azzie needs to finally see what Crowley saw, without the manipulation of words to confuse him. That Azzie can’t just “make things better” because he will never be allowed to make things better. As a Supreme Archangel, he will have the clearance and ability to find out everything Crowley did. Unfortunately, it will be too late... or will it? ...
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OTHER THINGS ON MY MIND (that I didn’t know where else to put)
Aziraphale NEVER FELL because they didn’t want it to look like an Institutional Problem. I even hazard a guess that NO angel has ever Fell since the Initial and Only Fall that sent Satan, Crowley and the other demons down. But Aziraphale doesn’t know that and I suspect that it’s this constant fear of Falling that keeps him complacent to Heaven. He’ll find out how they’ve really been dealing with problems when he’s in his new position.
And I think Azzie also never fell because Crowley made a point to never ever snitch. He knows they would eat him alive in Hell, so he protects Azzie from that as well.
I love that the Bentley clearly has a favourite and it isn’t Crowley!!! The car literally tries to follow Aziraphale. It’s so cute.
And on the subject of the Bentley... Crowley can feel everything going on with his car?? So like... is that a metaphor for Aziraphale being inside Crowley or.....? hee hee heeeeeee.
I loved that David got to use his natural accent in the Edinburgh scenes. IT’S SO PRECIOUS OMG.
And and and while Crowley was high off his rocker, he clearly says “Where are you??? 😢” and Aziraphale had to reassure him that he was there. So sweet.
Aziraphale and his inability to do literally anything humans do “the normal way” (mobile phone use, be a “newspaper man”, properly drive, learn French properly) while turning around and lowkey mocking Muriel is... something else. What a hypocritical dork.
The realization that they have a WHOLE-ASSED apology dance hit me like a tonne of bricks, and we KNOW it’s coming back in S3. There needs to be an entire cabaret from Azzie this time ‘round, LOL.
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FINAL THOUGHTS
I adored season two, more than season one for sure, and I loved that it built up upon the AziraCrow relationship. It was an interlude that lets us know that they’re sort of in a rut, stuck in a status quo that both are afraid of changing, and that they both need a catalyst event to happen to truly be together.
I remain more hopeful and certain for a satisfying conclusion to their arc than I ever have before. Which is saying a lot because privately, after Sherlock S4, I kind of was ready to not put my faith in another show to canonize a ship I love ever again.
But there’s a huge difference between this finale and Sherlock S4′s finale: GO S2 DOESN’T feel complete, and Neil wants to finish the story. I went into more detail about it on this post here, but essentially it boils down to S4 left me feeling hollow and empty because its 4th season felt so detached from what we already saw. It felt like the closing of a book with the wrong pages in it, with no confirmation in sight of concluding the series proper with the S5 they’ve been promising for years. GOS2, on the other hand, left us feeling like everything’s WRONG but in the right way, you know what I mean? Like there is a part two to this saga to be completed. And that Neil himself seems determined to finish the story regardless of what happens.
I like to think that both Michael and David know what Gaiman plans for the endgame of their characters, given that Gaiman HAS said he does “have the final fifteen pages of Episode 6 [...] written. Given what we got in S2 with The Kiss, and Michael and David’s adoration for this story and its characters, I am hopeful that Neil entrusted them with what he wants for AziraCrow. They in turn play those characters better for it.
So yeah, maybe I’m just putting clown shoes back on with this one, but I will remain... optimistically skeptical. Like, I REALLY want and believe that AziraCrow is endgame, that the Husbands will be actual husbands, but I also will remain skeptical that it can happen and not be upset if it doesn’t. I got a kiss (a terrible one, but a kiss nonetheless). I got a tonne of touching. I got them dancing together. I think that’s more than we ever could have hoped for, and it’s already leagues above what I am used to.
To conclude, here are some more questions, thoughts, and hopes for S3:
There are SO many “Chekov gun” moments in play in S2 currently, little things that really seem so pointless to have introduced (like the apology dance) and I am TRULY hoping that it’s true that Gaiman didn’t put things in this series unless it’s important later. I feel it will all come back around. Where S1 had open and closed plot points, S2 did NOT.
Why was Crowley able to get into Heaven without any issue? Is THIS part of the Ineffable Plan? Why does Crowley not want anyone to know who he was before the Fall? It’s clear Crowley POSSIBLY knows more than he lets on about Everything. I think he was at one time the Supreme Archangel... Gabriel’s banishment could foreshadow this, given that Gabe is deliberately used as a Crowley mirror in this season.
I hope for a stupidly emotional, makes-me-sob-fat-tears, reunion, confession and acceptance of each other. Oh, and of course, the infamous cottage in Sussex we all hope for. I am a SUCKER for emotional beats and I CRAVE it.
Oh, and a HUGE apology dance from Aziraphale. You introduced that shit, I want to see Azzie go all out in return.
I think Crowley will be the first one to confess verbally. The Gabriel mirror kind of sealed that for me.
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FINALLY, that’s that! Thank you for reading all the way through, if you did. Again, as I alluded to in my introduction, I may expand upon a few sections of this meta on other posts in the upcoming weeks as I catch more and more things, and start integrating other people’s meta into my own theories.
Apologies for any errors in this, it took me nearly 2 days to write and a very tired couple proofreads through it to clean up hanging text.
I hope you enjoyed my foray back into meta-writing, and please, do not hesitate to send me an ask to either of my blogs if you wish for me to expand more on a topic.
Cheers, and good day 💙🖤
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ɪɴꜱᴏᴍɴɪᴀᴄ!ꜱᴘɪᴅᴇʀᴍᴀɴ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ
Characters: Peter Parker, Mary-Jane “MJ” Watson, Harry Osborn, Miles Morales
Type: Headcanons
Synopsis: General headcanons for the main protagonists of Insomniac’s Spider Man 2 on PS5.
Warnings: probs some cursing somewhere, and ofc spoilers for the spiderman 2 game! You’ve been warned!!!
A/N: This game is definitely up there as one of the best games I’ve seen/played in 2023, so it wouldn’t be right for me to go into 2024 and still not have much written for it; so I’m correcting that! Take this as a spoiler for those who have not finished playing the game/watching a full gameplay of it to the end.
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Peter Parker
Oh poor Peter, he’s just got so much going on. With Aunt May and the house, him tryna find a stable job, his relationship with MJ, and now prioritizing his friendship with Harry, he’s being pulled in so many different directions it’s honestly dizzying!
There’s so much going on in his life that I wouldn’t be too surprised if he developed some anxiety around it. Like we know Peter for being this quirky, goofy kid who’s got hella jokes and can rock your ass in a science test, but when he’s alone, the turbulence of his life gets to him a little. And it’s not like he can let anyone really know - he’s Spiderman for crying out loud! If he goes down, who knows how the rest will take it.
And of course the Venom Symbiote doesn't make things any better - Pete’s whole acting like an ass thing wasn’t intentional by no means necessary, but I think that would also play into his anxiety as well. He doesn’t want to ever hurt his friends the way he did with that symbiote in him - they’re the last thing he has.
On a completely not depressing note, I feel like having the house to himself gives Peter the opportunity to really figure out his own aesthetic. Sure, he’s the cute nerdy heartthrob guy, but he wants to expand himself! I feel like he wouldn’t be into the super modern high tech home decor that’s been sweeping through every interior designers palette - I see him as a mix of warm country house vibes (courtesy of Aunt May), with a hint of the technological advantages that he’d implement into certain appliances and spaces (*coughcough* at home lab *coughcough*) and a finishing touch of midcentury modern for a pop of color….it won’t stop him from being a bit of a slob though unfortunately.
Mary-Jane “MJ” Watson
If i were her I’d be one critique away from giving Mr. J.J.Jameson a taste of his own desk, because oh my god the self-centeredness he possesses makes me want to vomit. But it’s a good thing I’m not, and our darling redhead angel has enough patience to deal with him for the sake of a bag - I applaud her for that.
I know a lot of people don’t like the MJ segments in the game but i actually appreciate them! Shows that she’s not just a pretty face that Pete falls in love with you know? And I like to think she actually likes the moments she gets to take down the Hunters because it makes her feel like a badass - which she totally is!
As a destresser from being a prime member of the Spider Team (yes, I’m claiming them as the Spider Team since Spider Squad is already taken) and her journalism job, I’d like to think she’s into something so niche like jewelry making - specifically little charm bracelets that she gifts to the others. Yknow, on some ‘friendship lasts forever’ type shit.
Also in her freetime she has writing projects on the side that she wouldn’t consider viable enough to send in as a story, but just fun little stories she’ll write for the hell of it. There’s nothing too specific about them, but they also serve as a way to track how her writing is progressing, and she’s in a group of beta readers of sorts that give her feedback on how much better she’s getting.
Another poor boy that just has way too much on his hands, good lord. Granted, I never saw the hype around Harry, but I think after this adaptation of him I might be warming up to him a little bit.
Harry Osborn
Getting on the bandwagon of adopting new hobbies, I see Harry as getting into drawing, especially during the period in which he doesn’t have the suit. Since his health is deteriorating and he isn’t able to be as mobile as he would like, he needs something to keep his mind and hands busy. And drawing does the trick for him. He starts off with just basic drawings like items in his room, but he advances very quickly and starts drawing portraits of himself and MJ, who spends a lot of time taking care of him. He symbalso sketches a picture of him and Peter when they were in highschool over and over again, especially when he runs out of muses.
Harry also spends a lot of his time thinking. Thinking about his life thus far, his friends, the legacy he wants to leave behind. He doesn’t just want his last name attached to something to make it great - he wants to earn his keep and his place in society. It was the whole reason he started the Emily-May Foundation; it would have been his mark on the world, and yet, here he was, tied down to his bed once again. Then again, who knows if the symbiote would have done the same to himself, had he let his own convictions get too far?
Considering what happens at the end of the game, though, I suppose we won’t ever know…until the next installment that is.
Miles Morales
Why are there so many poor boys in this game? Like I got enough sympathy to go around but Jesus save these guys!!!
He is a HEAVY romantic, especially when it comes to Hailey (so so SO happy he got his girl in the end was rooting for them so hard in his game). He plans their dates according to the mode and vibe of the day, whatever the two are feeling, whatever is mentioned in fleeting conversations, etc. He’s in love and proud of it!
He’s getting better at dividing up the attention to the important people in his life, as well as school and his Spiderman duties. Sundays are for him and his mom to lounge in their pajamas and catch up with each other on the weeks events; he hangs with Ganke throughout the week and sometimes goes out with him to science expo’s every now and then. He’ll pop up on Hailey whenever she’s in the neighborhood and just sits and chills with her (and if she’s working on a street piece, even better! He’s her no. 1 supporter!)
He, Peter and Ganke get into rubix cubes competitions to see who can complete the rubix cube the fastest. Right now Ganke is ranked number one and Peter and Miles are tied for second place, but they’re getting another, more difficult cube to compete again soon.
He’s got a big heart, and knowing the effects of everything that’s happened with Harry, Miles makes it a point to check in with Peter every now and then. He’s lowkey worried that if the older Spiderman’s worry for his best friend doesn’t do him in, then somehow the effects of the Venom symbiote on Peter’s psyche will turn him cold again, and that doesn’t end well at all. He does this well with MJ, and they talk frequently on how they can be better support for Pete and Harry in the aftermath of everything that’s happened.
If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!
#black reader#black tumblr#black marvel#marvel x reader#marvel x black!reader#spiderman#black spiderman#spiderman x reader#spiderman x black!reader#insomniac spiderman#spiderman 2 ps5#spiderman miles morales#peter parker#mary jane watson#mj watson#harry osborn#miles morales#spiderman 2 headcanons#spiderman headcanon
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Ya know, something I hear a lot of Katsuki Stans claim is that supposedly antis don’t have jobs and that we have tons of free time. It’s something that the Stans would shout when I first started this blog and it was something many people told that person who exposed Dekacchan on Twitter. Now, it’s true that some people really have nothing else to do but hate, but most of the time, it’s not the case.
I’m going to start off with some lore about me. Despite what some of you think, I’m actually quite the busy person. I’m in charge of raising my puppy, and for those of you who have had one, as much as you love them, y’all can agree with me that it’s a lot of work.
“So what? That’s not a job…” some of you might say, and you’d be correct. However, I do have a job, and that job’s taking care of my grandmother. My grandmother’s turning 80. She not only has arthritis, but she’s also got pancreatic cancer. I’ve got to help her bathe, exercise, make food for her, etc. It is a job that I’m getting paid for. The times I’m on this blog is when she’s napping or on the days I have off (Saturdays and Sundays). That’s one of the few breaks I have. Sure, you can say I post a lot, but some of those responses sit in my drafts for like a day or so. This is one of those posts. There are also times where my responses are short, which takes little to no time to respond to. Combine taking care of my grandmother and my puppy and I’ve got quite the hectic schedule.
Oddly enough, you don’t hear these Stans telling their fellow Stans to get a job. Dekacchan’s on Twitter far more often than I am on this blog and she supposedly has a teaching job. If she can find the time to constantly post, then I don’t understand why the Stans try shitting on antis for having the time to run their accounts/blogs too.
In addition, some Stans wonder why people would create a blog/internet persona/etc. dedicated to hating a fictional character/piece of media, etc. Now, I can’t speak for everyone, but there’s three reasons why I created this blog. First off is to create a safe space for people who hate Katsuki to express themselves. If you say anything bad about Katsuki, chances are you’re going to get swarmed by his Stans, and I wanted to do something about that. This blog was the best thing I could think of. Secondly, it’s therapeutic. People write for therapy. It’s an easy and harmless way of processing your thoughts and venting them to likeminded people. Finally, it’s to help me gather my thoughts. See, I love superheroes and I wanna be a writer. MHA’s in my eyes a how to guide on how to fail at writing a superhero story so I study it, note what’s wrong, and come up with solutions in my head for if I ever wanna tackle similar themes in my stories. There’s a difference between shitting on something just cause and pointing out the immense flaws around a piece of work. I’m doing the latter.
Hopefully this helps with dispelling the idea that antis don’t have jobs or hate for no reason.
#anti katsuki bakugou#anti bakugo katsuki#anti bakugo#anti bakugou#mha critical#anti bakugou katsuki#bnha critical
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I wanted to talk a little bit about linkrot.
I’m involved with a fanart archival project, homestucksongcomics. Calling it an archival project might be a little pretentious; we just reblog lyricstucks, tagging and indexing them as best we can to make it easy for people to find them. These days, we’re losing more and more posts. A lot of lyricstucks are long and artists courteously put them under read-mores, which became defunct when people deleted their blogs or changed fandoms and deleted the post. We’ve added youtube video adaptations of some of these lyricstucks below the read-mores, only for the videos to later get deleted or privated.
Earlier this year, I thought of a lyricstuck that I loved and went to rewatch it, only to discover that it had suffered this fate. I remember the illustrations from it, the ideas, the way it matched characters to the song’s concepts. I’d spoken to the artist once and told them how much I loved it; they were surprised I’d even seen it as it hadn’t gotten a lot of notes. No one can see it now. I searched youtube for any existing adaptations and came up empty-handed. I even tried the internet archive. All that’s left of it now is the very first panel before the read more. I cried about it.
With all of these fan artists, we are internet strangers, but there was a time when we loved the same thing. We poured our time and energy and creativity and fragile pieces of our hearts into our art and cosplays and fanworks. I started doing digital art at all because I was inspired by other people’s lyricstucks and wanted to make my own. These days, I’m not particularly involved in fandom and am lucky if I post fan art once a year, but I’m carrying the memories of our community, our passion and absurdity, the skills and songs I learned because of them, with me, and I think of it with great fondness.
Yesterday, someone reblogged a lyricstuck from homestucksongcomics and I got a notification about it. This particular lyricstuck was from a deactivated blog, but wasn’t under a read more so we had the whole thing preserved. They tagged it: #my art #archive #god i missed this. It was the original artist, reblogging their old art onto their new blog. I don’t know when it was originally posted, but we had reblogged it in 2014. It had been almost ten years.
I guess this all is to say, I missed this too. We’ve all grown and changed in that time, and a lot of us have packed up and moved on and it will never be what it once was, but let’s not erase what we shared. My first lyricstuck did not get many notes and its art is borderline embarrassing; you will recall it was essentially my first digital art project. I can’t imagine anyone would miss it if it went anywhere, but it will be staying up.
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The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Dating Your Ex - ch 5
Marcus Pike x female reader
Co-written with @absurdthirst
When Marcus unexpectedly runs into his ex-wife he is plunged into a world of complications where rekindled attraction and deep-seated insecurities reign. Unfortunately for him, it is also a world where his ex-wife is not the only ‘ex’ around, as a new case crosses his desk that will require all hands on deck. ✨���Inspired by and based upon absurdthirst’s Tequila💖✨
Rating: Mature, but as always this blog is 18+
Word Count: 7.9k
Warnings: **Blanket warnings for this series include: divorce, break ups, collegiate Greek life, underage drinking, food/alcohol consumption.** Generic bashing of Patrick Jane, lots of guilt and self-flagellation in the inner monologues.
Summary: As the stress starts to pile up, there is some serious conversation to be had between two people who have notorious trouble communicating.
Notes: Every step forward these two take just leaves me a little more in love with them.
Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4
The day ends up being excruciatingly long. Taking the daguerreotypes back to your lab doesn't reveal anything much at first besides the fact that they were very improperly stored for many years, but over the course of several hours things begin to slowly paint a picture - so to speak. When your eyes start to feel crossed, fuzzy, and glossy around eight-thirty that night, you're grateful to see Marcus appear in the laboratory doorway looking run down but thoroughly unaccompanied by the agents from Texas.
"Hey," you hum, suddenly very pleased with yourself for sending an exhausted Silvia home half an hour ago.
“Hey.” Marcus shoves his hand through his hair and sighs. “I’m sorry, I know it’s too late for dinner - we hit a dead end and I just wanted to see you.”
"Why is it too late?" Peeling off your gloves, you toss them in the bin under the far counter as you round your lab table, offering him a hug if he wants one. "If it's because you want to head home and have some alone time, that's fine. But it's not too late for us to have dinner together, if that's what you're thinking."
"To be honest, I don't want to go out." Marcus admits, feeling completely drained from having to deal with the Janes for hours after you had left with the daguerreotypes. They had hit a brick wall and Teresa was obviously worn out from travel and working on the weekend, so Marcus had called it a night. Work could continue tomorrow. "I just want to go home, shower and be lazy."
“Then that’s what we’ll do.” Ringing your arms around him, you let him sag against you just to feel the support of someone else being there for him. It’s clear he had a rougher day than you did, and you can completely understand why. “Your place or mine?”
“Would I be completely selfish if I asked to go to my place?” He asks softly. He wants you to see it, to see you there. “We don’t have to, but I will need to get my car.”
“Of course we can go to your place.” You prop your chin on his chest to look up at him and offer him a quiet smile. It’s not a stretch to imagine that he bought a big family-ready house when he got here and is now just puttering around it making little improvements until he has someone to share it with. It nearly brings tears to your eyes to think you could actually get to be that person again. “If you want to give me your address I’ll just stop over at my apartment to grab some clothes for tomorrow and meet you there?”
“Okay.” He snorts and shakes his head. “Maybe we should exchange numbers. Since we didn’t get around to it yesterday.” He jokes with a smirk.
“We got a little…swept up in things.” And you aren’t sorry about it for one single second, but you do take your phone out of your pocket to hand to him.
Marcus hums, smirking at your trusting him with your phone as he opens the messages and sends himself one. Unable to stop himself from messing with you.
To: 202-867-5309: ‘Hey baby, it’s me. I cannot tell you how GREAT last night was. Easily the best I’ve ever had.’
He hits send and pulls out his phone when it dings and grins. “Awwww, thanks babe.” He jokes with a wink as he hands the phone back to you and starts sending you his address.
"What...?" You look down at your phone, seeing the text he sent himself, and burst out in a fit of giggles. "It was, though." You have to admit that. "Definitely top five. I'm not really sure anything can top our wedding night, though."
“That was a good night.” Marcus smirks and shakes his head. “Although I’m not twenty anymore and I don’t know if I can move that way.”
“We were young and very limber.” And as energetic as you had both been that night in the hotel room after leaving the backyard wedding his parents had hosted, it had all been lovemaking. Every second of intimacy is infused with the promise of a lifetime of support and affection.
“I knew you’d have a house,” you grin at seeing his address pop up in your phone screen. “You were never an apartment guy even when that was all we could afford.”
Marcus pout. “I had a condo in Austin, I’ll have you know.” He tells you dramatically before he shuffles slightly. “I, uh— I bought it when I thought—” He breaks off and sighs. “When I thought Teresa was following me out here. Because at the time, housing was insane - so I jumped on it.”
“And I’m sure it will be perfect for whatever life brings next.” As determined as you are for that to include you, Marcus is in charge of his own life. And until you are able to sit down and have a real conversation about the future, you aren’t going to suppose anything at all.
Part of him wants to jump the gun, to open his mouth and make plans with you. But he had driven you away with that so he just hums. “I’ve got to get an Uber home. Unless….” He gives you a small smile. “You wanna give a guy a ride home?”
“Come on.” The smile on your face softens, spreading into a wide grin as you offer him your hand. “We’ll stop by my place on the way to yours.” The note of hope in your voice is unmistakable, but you don’t even mind. “Maybe I’ll pack a couple of clean things? If you want me to stay more than one night, I mean…”
Marcus takes your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and squeezes it gently. “That will be good. Makes sense so we don't have to get up early if we don’t have to.” He’s not going to push, but if you’re offering, he’s going to take whatever you give him.
“So…” you glance up at him as the two of you walk out of your building together, out to the parking lot where your Mini waits. “Teresa seems nice. When she’s away from Patrick, anyway.”
“Teresa is…independent.” Marcus concedes. “And unfortunately, played her cards close to her chest. I had a thought that Jane might be an issue - especially when he showed up at her house one night and seemed surprised I was there, but I shook it off as being ridiculous.”
“Ever the optimist.” You can’t fault him for it. Not really. His ability to see the silver line in anything is one of the things you always loved about him.
“Yeah.” Sometimes that optimism seems like a curse and he shakes his head. He had taken his shot and had been honest - to a point - and it just hadn’t worked out.
“So what do you want to do about dinner?” There is something - a doubt - in his voice that you don’t like, so you change the subject quickly.
“I have some stuff at the house or we can order something.” Marcus tells you, wondering if he shouldn’t just take you out like he promised. “If you want to go out, we can.” It’s something he does, sacrificing his own wants for someone else, and it’s just natural at this point.
“No, baby. You wanted to stay in.” You’re not going to take his comfort from him, that would be a shitty thing to do. “We worked all day. Let’s have something delivered when we get to your place. Chinese? Pizza?”
“Whatever you want. I honestly don’t have any preference.” He just wants a shower and a comfortable pair of sweats to lounge in.
“Chinese, then?” An order of kung pao chicken and lo mein were always his go to when class or work has been particularly hard, and you squeeze his hand gently. “I’ll even share my crab rangoon.”
“What did I do to deserve that?” You were horribly possessive over the creamy wontons. To the point you had smacked his hand the last time he tried to steal one and really got mad at him.
“I have grown as a person,” you tease, sighing slightly as you step outside and the crisp fall air hits your senses. If you’re ever lucky enough to stand up with him again - like that wonderfully vivid dream you had last night - you’ll even put it in your vows if it proves to him that you’ve changed. “I love you more than crab rangoon, Marcus Pike.”
He can’t help but bark out a laugh, tossing his head back and making it a full belly laugh. Enjoying the ease of the moment and the spontaneously funny comment. “That proves it.” He promises as he tugs you closer with your joined hand and cups your cheek. “You love me more than crab rangoon, huh?”
“Yeah.” In the chilly air he radiates heat, and you let yourself be reeled in against him without hesitation. “I absolutely do.”
“I’m gonna need that in writing.” He teases. “For when you are looking to stab me with a chopstick.”
“When we get home I’ll write it out and you can hang the framed note in the living room as proof.” You love him more than anything and it has taken walking away to realize that. But the sidewalk outside your office isn’t the place for that discussion.
“Bribery.” Marcus jokes, not mentioning that you are calling it home, like it’s where you two live together. He swallows down the butterflies in his stomach, knowing it could just be a turn of speech. It doesn’t mean anything.
“Evidence.” Leaning in to press your lips to his, you let the kiss linger for a few seconds before pulling away. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Marcus dutifully follows you to your car and climbs in after opening your door for you again. He groans slightly as he closes the door and starts to put his seatbelt on. "Your house and then mine." He sighs, exhausted from the day and the mental fortitude it took to deal with Jane. He honestly doesn't see how Teresa did it every day.
t doesn’t take long - under an hour - to get everything accomplished, and Marcus orders your dinner from DoorDash on the drive between your places so that by the time you pull up in front of his white-picket-fence-American-dream picturesque house in The Palisades, all you have to do for the rest of the night is relax.
The house is adorable: classic Victorian with fresh white paint with blue shutters in the windows and a little front lawn, with the whole property fenced in in a way that says the last owners definitely had a dog. It’s exactly the kind of place you can see him happily raising his kids and doing yard work on the weekends, even tossing a tennis ball or frisbee for the pup. It’s classic Americana - and classic Marcus.
Marcus fidgets slightly, aware that you are judging. Perhaps not in any negative kind of way, but he had explicitly told you what kind of home he wanted when the two of you were dreaming as teenagers, the kids you had been. This was it, and he feels surprisingly vulnerable. His car is in the garage and he gives a careless shrug. “This is it.”
You reach for his hand once you’re out of the car, offering him a smile. “I love it,” you promise him.
He gives you a small smile and walks up to the door, rolling his eyes when he sees the mailbox stuff full. “Gone one night.” He huffs, letting go of your hand to unlock the door and grab the mail.
“All the best junk mail that Washington DC has to offer.” Inside, you follow Marcus as he deposits your bag and the mail on a side table in the hallway, then into the kitchen to grab drinks and chopsticks before dinner arrives. Take out in front of a movie would have been a classic Saturday night for the two of you years ago, and it’s a comforting ritual to return to.
Marcus sets everything out and kicks off his shoes. “I guess a tour is in order?” He offers.
“You have a little bit more to show than I did,” you joke, trying to lighten the load that the day has left on his shoulders.
“You know me, too many plans.” He smiles weakly and rubs his hands together. “It’s got a basement, but I’m sure you don’t want to go down there.”
“Show me everything.” In the most hopeful and optimistic part of your mind, you are already wondering what it would feel like to come home to this house. To drop your keys and purse on that side table and be greeted by those kids or that dog he always dreamed of. “Even the scary basement. I-I want to see it all.”
“Okay.” He gestures around the kitchen. “This is the kitchen, it was renovated, but I want to add an outdoor kitchen for when the weather is nice.” He admits. “It looks out over the backyard, so it’ll be like an extension of the kitchen itself.”
“The fact that you even have a backyard in D.C. is impressive.” Visions of the backyard barbecues his parents used to throw, dance through your mind and you grin. “Taking a page out of your dad’s book, huh?”
“I guess.” He can’t help but smirk slightly. “He did teach me to use a grill.”
“The perfect way to celebrate good weather is with a cookout. You know I believe that.” God that smile. With his dimple on display he really does look every bit as boyish as the night you met.
“Yeah, I remember that shitty little charcoal grill we had on the balcony of our apartment.” It’s the first time he’s mentioned living together and he hums slightly. “The entire apartment would smell like burgers.” They had been broke and couldn’t afford steak or much else, but it had been fun.
“I bet you never had a housewarming party. Even after you made friends at work.” Your free hand sits comfortably on his waist and you hug him ever so gently. “A backyard burger party before it gets too cold would be killer.” The grin that graces your lips along with the idea is just a touch devious, though. “I’ll make all the cheesecake you could possibly want.”
“It’s a nice thought.” Marcus muses, imagining a get together over here without the pressures of work or anything hounding them. He takes care of the team by taking them out regularly, but that would be strictly social.
“So.” You nudge him a little and smile again. A little wider this time. “Kitchen and backyard. What’s next?”
“The basement is in here.” He motions to the door that leads down. “Through here. It’s a good size. Perfect for storage.” It’s strange to be giving you this tour but he opens the door and flips on the light.
You're halfway down the stairs when Marcus's phone rings - the unknown number on his caller ID letting you know that your dinner has arrived. "Saved by the bell." you joke, knowing that he fully understands your tendency to be creeped out by smaller, dark spaces. Besides, there's something off right now - something making him uncomfortable - and you're fairly certain it's you. So maybe just having dinner is better.
Marcus chuckles as the two of you turn around and go back upstairs. He knows why he’s slightly unnerved. Seeing three of his ex’s in a room would make any man start to think. And Marcus tends to overthink. You’ve run out on him once, crushing his heart when you insisted on a divorce. Now you’re back, looking at him like you did so many years ago. Seeing Teresa made him remember that feeling when she stayed in Texas, chose another man, it wasn’t even half as bad as you walking out of his life. He honestly doesn’t know if he can risk this again.
Beating Marcus to the front door means you pay the teenager delivering your food, and flash a grin at him as you close the door behind you with the stuffed-full bag of Chinese in your arms. Straight into the living room is where both of you go, plopping down on his comfortable sofa to hand out containers. The thin sheet of cardboard between containers catches your eye, and you pop up quickly to retrieve a marker from your purse - scrawling "I love you more than crab rangoon and will always share my favorite things with you" on the cardboard before coming back to set it in front of Marcus at the coffee table.
Marcus stares at the cardboard for a moment, grinning and huffing at the written declaration. “Cute.” He wrinkles his nose at you and there is a moment where he wants to kiss you, as he steals your crab rangoon. Just to see if you will let him get by with it. But that doubt stops him. “I’m gonna shower before we eat if, that’s okay.” He murmurs, standing up. “Drinks in the fridge, make yourself comfortable, okay?”
"Sure." The complete change in his demeanor from last night to tonight is borderline crushing, but you bite back the disappointment in your reaction and just smile. You don't deserve a second chance. Deep down, you know that. But it was so close last night that you could taste it, and feel it, and there's nothing you can do now but admit how desperately you want it.
Marcus chastises himself as he makes his way upstairs. It doesn’t dawn on him that he grabbed your bag until he is setting it down on his bed. Sighing softly, he looks at the mirror over the dresser. “Just fucking relax.” He tells himself.
Waiting for him to finish is almost interminable, and it's not like Marcus takes extra-long showers or anything. It's just the pure torture of waiting for him to come back and probably tell you that this was all an awful mistake and that you need to leave. Anticipating rejection is like having a knife poised in your gut and just waiting for the twist, but you're not walking out of his life this time without a fight. He would have to look you in the eye and tell you that he felt absolutely nothing for you to get you to even falter.
He feels a lot better after the shower. It’s amazing to him what hot water and clean skin can do for his attitude. Dressing in comfortable grey sweats and an FBI t-shirt, he’s more relaxed as he comes downstairs. Frowning slightly when he sees that you haven’t started digging into the food. “You didn’t find something you wanted to drink?” He asks, sure that there were still a few cans of soda in his admittedly empty fridge.
“I wanted to wait for you.” You tell him honestly, getting up when he appears at the bottom of the stairs. “I…think we should talk while we eat.”
That’s not good. Marcus nods and decides to put it off for just a second longer before you tell him that it was a mistake. “Let me get a drink.” He manages before he walks into the kitchen, that knot of doubt squeezing his guts like a fist.
He comes back a second later with two cans of ginger ale and sets them down, which gives you just enough time to take a deep breath before smiling as reassuringly as you can. “I’m not…really sure how to do this,” you admit, hating how uncertain you sound as you try to set your thoughts in order. When he sits down next to you, you scoot a little closer, afraid of being rejected if you reach for his hand but needing to be next to him. “So I’m just going to put it all out there on the table.” You can do this. Just tell him how you feel. “I love you. I never stopped, honestly. And I know that I’m not exactly in a position to ask for anything, but after seeing you again and especially after last night, I can’t imagine a single version of the rest of my life that doesn’t include you. So I’m asking. I’m asking you to take me back and give me a second chance if you can find it in your heart to forgive me. Walking out was the worst decision I ever made and I will do everything in my power to make it up to you.”
Marcus swallows harshly and his heart leaps up into his throat. They are words he’s wanted to hear for years. Since the day you told him you wanted a divorce. That loving him wasn’t enough. He reaches for your hand, taking it gently. “I- I’ve waited for so long to hear those words.” He admits quietly, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. “But—”
“But.” You nod your head slowly, trying not to grip his hand too tightly, waiting for the words to come. For him to say no and tell you that it’s too late and you hurt him too badly. The words you absolutely deserve.
“But part of me wonders if you’ll do it again.” Marcus’s words are quiet, strained. “Because I plan too much or want too much or say the wrong thing and you decide that you don’t want to do it anymore.” He licks his lips. “Today I had three women in the same room who dumped me. And only one of them really shattered my heart.”
“You have every right to doubt me.” Goodness knows you would, if you were in his position. “But I want to make plans with you. All the big plans and little plans you’ve ever had, I’m ready for them.” When you do squeeze his hand, you can’t help but look at the place your wedding rings used to sit, wanting to have them back again. To have his trust again. “I know you want to be married with kids and a beautiful domestic life and I know that I’m the one who put that on hold last time.” Two fingers under his chin tip his eyes up to yours. “My birth control is in the bag I packed. I will throw it in the trash right now.”
Marcus’s eyes widen and he quickly shakes his head. “No.” He rushes out. “I don’t want— I mean I want that but—” he reaches for your other hand and gently pulls it down from his face. “I don’t want having a baby with me or throwing birth control away to be a means of proving anything to me.” He tells you. “I just got a little in my head today.”
“Anybody would have.” The fact that he didn’t say yes to the grand gesture gives you an oddly disappointed feeling in your gut but you push it away. You’ve wanted kids for years now - and your mind’s eye has always unhelpfully made them look a bit like Marcus in your daydreams - so it shouldn’t surprise you. “I’m just…I’m not very good at this.” He was always the articulate one, and you half-laugh in spite of yourself. “Last night you said it was always me for you. Well…it’s always been you for me, too. When I managed to pull my head out of my ass long enough to think, I realized that the world is a damp shade of gray without you in my life. But I figured you would have found someone else already and moved on. So I never let myself look you up.”
“I’m sorry.” Marcus is good at apologizing, and he means it right now. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was just- using you for last night. I had hoped to spend the entire day with you. Much differently than we did.” He huffs, flashing you a smile. “I just don’t know if I could handle it if I lost you again.”
“I don’t feel like you used me. I think we just got interrupted, and this conversation would have happened this afternoon instead of tonight.” If anything, your relief at seeing him walk into your office tonight was proof that it was him and not just the sex that you craved. “How or if this happens is entirely up to you. Whether that’s lightning fast or slower than a sloth, or even— even if you decide that you can’t forgive me. But…” You want to kiss him - lips or cheek or hands - anything. But you don’t want to make him feel pressured. “I’m all in. If you decide you want to give us another chance, I’m all in. Communication, planning, big dreams, all of it. I just— I love you so much. And I want to give you everything.”
Marcus swallows, looking into your eyes and he swears that he falls more in love with you. Hearing the words that he needs, he leans in, pressing his lips to yours. “I love you.” He promises. “I didn’t - I want this.”
“I know you didn’t.” And you’ll live with that guilt - shame - for the rest of your life. But at least maybe you can fix some of the mistakes you made when you broke his heart. “I will never stop being sorry for what I did, I hope you know that.”
“I just never understood why you insisted we had to divorce.” He admits quietly, needing to talk about the things he hadn’t brought up at the time back then in an effort to be as accommodating as possible.
“It took me years to figure out why I thought like I did.” And when you had that breakthrough, it came along with a personal hatred and depression that lasted for multiple years. Ruining your life over something so obviously flawed was the worst life decision you ever made. The tears in your eyes at this point are pure shame. “I really thought that the options were family or career. That there was no way to do both. And saying it out loud is just…it’s the stupidest I’ve ever felt. If anything, you deserve to be with someone smarter than me.”
Marcus snorts and shakes his head, thinking that’s the most ridiculous thing you could have said. “Baby, you are the smartest person I know.” He promises you, cupping your cheek. “I was the one struggling in school, remember?” He hadn’t been a horrible student. It had just taken more work on his part. “I just wish you had talked to me about it. I would have never made you choose one or the other.”
“I should have talked to you.” You sniffle, very aware of that now-obvious fact. “When my parents got married, my mom gave up her full-time job to work a couple of days a week for barely above minimum wage, and then gave that up to have me and Leah. I had sorority sisters telling me how lucky I was that you were so smart and charismatic because it meant you were going to get a great job and I could stop torturing myself figuring out a career. And my two friends from home who got pregnant young and had to quit their jobs to take care of their kids.” It had felt hopeless at the time. Like drowning without a clue as to how to swim. “I…I didn’t want to disappoint you by loving my job too much or by being a bad mother. And I just…panicked.”
“You would have never disappointed me. And I don’t think you would have been a bad mother.” Marcus reaches out and caresses your cheek. “Baby if you had told me that you decided you didn’t want kids, I wouldn’t have forced you to. I would have needed time to get used to the idea. But I never wanted a forced family. Who knows?” He shoots you a small grin. “I might be shooting blanks from that time you kneed me in the nuts.”
“I was very drunk and slipped on my Halloween costume. It wasn't my fault!” You protest immediately, breaking into giggles at the memory of that night. You’d sobered up fast and had babied him for days in apology. “I was scared of what growing up and having a future meant, honey.” Leaning into his touch is safe. It’s comforting. It’s home. “I didn’t find out until it was too late that I didn’t want a future that didn’t include you.” The explanation feels like far too little too late, and extraordinarily dumb to boot, but he deserves the truth. No matter how awful it makes you feel. “By the time I got around to figuring out that I really do want to be a mother, I had lost the guy whose kids I wanted to have. And it was my own fault.”
“And I don’t want you to think that I can’t compromise.” He wishes you had this conversation twelve years ago. Maybe it wouldn’t have been this way. Maybe it would have been the house you bought together and there would already be kids. But he doesn’t want to dwell on that. “Why don’t we eat, hmm?” He asks. “We can still talk, we should talk.”
“Yeah.” You nod, feeling like an idiot no matter how reassuring he is. But the container of crab rangoon sits squarely in between you and you have no intention of moving it. “I don’t know what would have happened if we had talked then, but I know you have nothing to apologize for.”
“I don’t want you to continuously apologize either.” Marcus grins and reaches for the container. “Honestly, maybe some couples counseling? If you want and feel like it would be good.”
“Absolutely.” You nod. You would agree to almost anything to have him back in your life - but that actually sounds productive regardless. Therapy has done wonders for your life over the years. “Getting some communication tools can only be a good thing.”
“I agree.” He opens the container and smirks at you, feeling better now that he’s expressed what he’s feeling. “Now, what were you saying about sharing the crab rangoon?”
“That you should absolutely have some.” He can have the whole thing if he really wants. Anything as long as it makes him happy. “All the rangoons and dreams you want.”
He shakes his head and picks one up to feed it to you. “Shouldn’t just be my dreams.”
It’s a sweet gesture, intimate without being sexual, and you savor the moment for what it is. “How about we share, then?” Your offer when you finish chewing. “Food. Dreams. All that good stuff?”
“Compromise.” Marcus smiles at you, his eyes soft and full of love. “I like that.” He pops the rest of the rangoon you had taken a bite of into his own mouth.
“Not our strong suit historically, so I think it will be a good place to start.” It’s a fact, and you’re not going to start hiding behind those now after everything. “Should we start big or small?”
“What do you mean?” He asks curiously.
“Like do you want to talk about how many kids we want and what kind of second wedding we’ll have, or do you want to stick to thinking about what kind of nice date we’ll go on when this case is closed?” As far as you’re concerned, the future holds all of those things, so you don’t mind dreaming about all of it.
“I don’t want to rush you.” Marcus protests slightly. “It’s been a long time. Those rose-colored memories might not live up to reality.” He wants to plan with you but he also doesn’t want you to be disappointed by him as the man he’s become without you.
“We can dream a little without having to pin everything down.” That’s something else you were never very good at - taking his random comments about thinking a shirt at the mall was nice as meaning he desperately wanted it or his musings about maybe rearranging the living room in the old apartment as your cue to completely redecorate. “But we can also keep it small until you’re comfortable talking about more long-term things. I mean it, love. I’m all in, if you want me. So we can do this at your pace.”
Marcus snorts, shaking his head. “That’s my line, sweetheart.” He reminds you. He’s always been the one jumping in too fast. Hell, he’d proposed both times without there being any thought in his head beyond wanting to be with them forever. The last proposal had been in a hallway at the Austin field office.
“I know.” Your head bobbles a little as you reach for one of the creamy fried wontons in the box between you. “But on top of it being the truth, I also wonder when the last time was that you had a partner that gave you a little romance of your own.”
Marcus is a giver. Always putting others first and taking care of the people around him, wanting them to have everything they could want or need even at the expense of his own desires. Even you had been guilty of taking his immense good nature for granted once in a while. But never again.
His brow wings up and he contemplates the question. “Hell, I don’t even know.” Marcus shrugs slightly. “Never really thought about it.”
"It seems about time that changed, my love." He deserves to be treated as well as he treats everyone else, and you're going to see to it that from now on, he is.
“So on a scale of one to the Addams family, how weird was today?” He asks with a slightly amused smile on his face.
"Don't you dare besmirch the names of Gomez and Morticia Addams by comparing them to Patrick and Teresa Jane," you snicker, shaking your head as the two of you settle in to eat in earnest. "Honestly, Agent Jane isn't so bad. It's her narcissistic husband that I can't stand."
“You noticed that too, huh?” He asks, shaking his head and humming as he picks up another crab rangoon.
"He might as well walk around in a t-shirt that says 'I <3 Myself'." And he would have bought it for himself, too. That's the kicker.
That makes him laugh. “Has to be underneath those suits.” He jokes. “Who wears a vest nowadays? MBA wielding salesman assholes and former con-artists, apparently.”
"No." Your eyes go a little wide and you laugh in disbelief, with your fork stopped halfway to your mouth. "Is he seriously a con man? That makes so much sense."
“Yeah. He grew up in the traveling carnival, or circus scene.” He tells you. “Incredibly observant and used it to claim he was psychic. Until…” Marcus frowns slightly, hating that anyone - even Patrick Jane - went through that kind of pain. “Red John killed his wife and daughter. His first wife, that is. That’s how he came to the FBI - by way of Teresa when she was at the CBI.”
"Red John?" It takes you a second, rolling back through the index of names and random facts in your head, before you tilt your head at him in surprise. "The serial killer? Well shit."
“Patrick Jane killed Red John.” Marcus doesn’t blame him for that. He would have done the same if it had been him.
"Shit." You shiver a little, not out of discomfort with Patrick Jane killing someone, but just at the fact of it. "I guess...remind me not to piss off Jane, then."
He chuckles and reaches out to spear a piece of your broccoli. “Actually I don’t think Patrick would ever kill someone else. Unless something happened to Teresa. Which, as much as I don’t like him, I understand.”
"Well, he just rose from boring and annoying to weirdly interesting but still an asshole in my books, so I guess that's something?" When he holds his container out to you in return you snag a piece of chicken and grin.
“You love General Tso’s but would never order it, always eating mine.” He pretends to pout but he loves this. He’s missed it. “Although I don’t think we ever ate Thai together.”
“It never sounds like the best option but it always looks so good.” He’s smiling - honestly smiling - and it really does ease your tired heart. “Do you want to pick a Thai place for the next time we go out? Or hell, even the next time we order in?”
“We could do that.” Marcus agrees to that readily, liking the idea. “I think we deserve a proper date again, don’t you? You and me going out and having fun together? Would you like that?”
“I’d love that.” Even thinking about it makes your cheeks burn a little and your smile grow. “What else would you want to do that night?”
Marcus hums thoughtfully, aware that you are happy with the idea. "Wellllllll, I am hoping to go home with the most gorgeous woman there. So there's that." He teases playfully, offering you another bite of his chicken.
“Oh yeah?” The giddy flip in your stomach comes with a hum, and you accept the bite happily. “I mean, if she is who I think she is, I can guarantee it.”
"Yeah? You can guarantee that?" There had always been a lot of fun teasing and jokes between the two of you. The relationship had been, in his mind - magical, until the day it wasn't. "I hope so." He goes on. "I remember the first time I met her, I swear I fell in love then."
“You fell in love with cheap tequila and a tight t-shirt?” Just because you remember every second of that night doesn’t mean you don’t love to hear Marcus reminisce, and take a sip from your soda can to hide a happy sigh. “I bet she fell in love right then, too.”
"I fell in love with a gorgeous pair of eyes and the most beautiful laugh I've ever heard." He leans in to kiss you softly before he winks at you. "Didn't hurt that she was hot enough that I shared the good booze with her."
“There were a lot of body shots that night.” You practically snort at how very stereotypical that part of the night was - flirting in his room at the frat house and letting yourselves get completely caught up in the delicious feeling of wanting that comes with new love when you’re extremely horny young adults.
"Yes there were." Marcus can't even hide his reaction to that, not that he would. Not from you. But just talking about that night has him hardening. "You really liked having the salt licked off your nipples if I remember right."
“I had the hottest guy I’ve ever seen sucking on my tits.” You point out, smirking a little at the memory. “Of course I liked it.”
"I mean, they're great tits." Marcus's grin gets a little wider. "And I was just a horny teenager. A beautiful girl is gonna let me drink tequila off her body and lick her tits, who am I to stop her?"
"I would have rioted if someone tried to stop us." You laugh again, shaking your head as you both beam at each other. "There was no way I wasn't spending the night with you once I realized you were interested."
"And I don't think there were many nights you didn't spend with me after that." Marcus grins as he picks up another piece of chicken. This time for himself.
"I'm just lucky that your brothers liked me," you muse, thinking of the way his frat brothers had basically treated you as a little sister once they saw how inseparable you and Marcus were. "I showed up for one damn party and then never really left."
"They didn't have any issue with you, unless we were having sex." He snickers, remembering all the times the door had been beat on for being too loud.
"Which was a lot." And you would never apologize for that - not even then.
"They didn't give you a stuffed bunny because they thought it was cute." He jokes.
"Aww, really?" You feign innocence, even though you both know that at the time you had cracked up laughing over the fucking like bunnies joke. "And here I thought they just found me adorable."
He snorts, leaning in against you. "They were all surprised that we didn't end up with an accident." He admits.
"My sisters were too." The other girls in your sorority had practically made up a list of baby names at one point. "They even had a baby shower theme picked out."
"I didn't know that." Marcus shakes his head, amused at how certain your college friends were that you were going to have kids and here you are so many years later and none of the happily ever after had happened yet.
"Yeah." You nod your head slightly. "They were going to throw a little garden party. It...it would have been cute." And for every year that has passed, you have wished more and more deeply that there had been a reason for it.
"Well..." Marcus senses the slight disappointment and he sighs. His shoulder jostles yours slightly and he sends you a sweet smile. "When you do have a baby, make sure you invite all of them to the shower."
"When we do, I will." It's a promise that you'll stand by, no matter how long it takes to happen, and you slip your hand in his to squeeze his fingers gently before laying your head on his shoulder. "And it will be a garden party."
"It can be in your own garden." Marcus responds, hoping that by that time you might consider this home. He would landscape the backyard into whatever garden oasis you wanted.
"Only if you like the idea of turning part of the backyard into a garden. We have to both like it." Following his trail of thought, you snuggle a little more deeply into his side and reach for the last crab rangoon to split in half.
"It's big enough that we can have a garden area." He looks over at you with a grin. "Although you know I kill any plants I touch beyond grass." He was not blessed with growing anything it seems and you had teased him when he had killed every plant you brought home.
"Which is why you won't be allowed near my rose bushes." The grin on your face is teasing when you look up at him, but there is so much love in your eyes that it nearly overrides every other emotion. "We can put a little bench or a swing out there to sit together."
"It would be nice." It's a thought that sends a warm flood of contentment through him. "Relax with a glass of wine after work when the weather is nice."
"And an extra place for our friends to sit when we have those backyard barbecues that I know we'll end up throwing once I get you a new grill." It's already become his first gift in your mind - something that you can do for him to make him smile and show him even just a little of that loving care that he gives to everyone else.
Marcus smiles and leans in to steal another kiss. "You don't have to do that." He promises. Just the idea that you would think about buying him a gift makes him feel good.
"I want to." Another stolen kiss lingers, and you both smile into it. "It can be a surprise, or you can pick out your dream grill. But this way every time you use it, you'll have an extra reason to smile."
“I don’t know.” He wrinkles his nose at you playfully. “My dream grill is pretty expensive.” He warns. “Alllll the bells and whistles.”
“Bring it on.” You grin, placing a kiss right on the bridge of his nose. “I make good money and intend to spoil you.”
Marcus shakes his head and smirks. “Oh really?”
“Yes, really.” Years ago, your definition of spoiling him had been largely sex related, and while that isn’t going to change unless he wants it to, it’s definitely going to include more now that you can actually do more to take care of him. “You think I don’t realize how much you scrounged for that little diamond chip in my engagement ring? You deserve every ounce of spoiling I can possibly give you.”
“I always felt guilty that I couldn’t get you something bigger.” He admits. “You deserved to have a gorgeous ring.”
“You could have given me aluminum foil and I still would have worn it proudly.” You tell him honestly. “The ring isn’t what matters, it’s who gives it to you.”
“I know.” He smiles at the thought. “I just wanted to give you the world.”
“And I love you for that.” Your head rests on his shoulder once more, fingers trailing up and down his arm as gently as a breeze. “It’s going to be better this time, Marc. I promise.” I’m going to be better. The silent thought rings loud and clear in your head.
“Just talk to me and we will be good.” Marcus promises. “I just don’t want you to feel like you have to make decisions by yourself.”’
“And I want you to feel like you can dream with me and plan for the future without being afraid that I’ll react poorly.” Since it’s exactly what happened last time, it is bound to be one of the biggest issues in communication. “If I am even bordering on being overwhelmed, I promise I’ll tell you.”
Marcus hums, having learned his lesson with planning too much but he nods. "I'll work on that." He promises, knowing that it will be an issue but he doesn't want it to hinder a relationship with you.
“We’ll work on things together.” Couples counseling will be smart for both of you, but for now you tip your head back and leave a kiss on the sharp line of his jaw.
"Eat the rest of your food." He urges, smirking at the feeling of your lips on his skin again. He needed this. This talk was good for him and hopefully good for you.
“Bossy,” you tease, grinning when he huffs.
"I just call it leadership skills, sweetheart." He teases and sends you a small wink and leering grin. "Or should I stop being bossy? You seemed to like ‘Director Pike' earlier." He hadn't missed the way you had shifted slightly.
“I’m not mad about it.” Marcus being a little older and a lot stronger had always been a bit of a turn on and he knew it. “Bossy can be fun sometimes.”
He smirks and leans back, pointing his chopsticks at you playfully. "You know it, baby." He teases. "Be a good girl and I'll show you some other tricks I've learned."
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#Pedro Pascal#Pedro Pascal character fanfiction#Pedro Pascal fanfic#Marcus Pike#Marcus Pike x reader#Marcus Pike x you#Marcus Pike x female reader#Agent Marcus Pike#ex wife reader#The Mentalist#Mentalist fanfic
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I find it really interesting that you don’t like kallus at all bc say what you will about fulcrum or kalluzeb but he’s the first ex-/imperial character that we saw on screen who wasn’t already defected when we met him. Like obvs you’ve got Han and Sabine who started off in the academy and then left bc they realised in wasn’t what they wanted and tala who’s already a mole for the path by the time she’s on screen but most other characters we interact with regularly and significantly either stay imperial or have never been one as far as we know. And I think that watching kallus’ arc play out as he realises that no the empire isn’t worth it actually and it is worse and the rebels he’s fighting and trying to capture are better and are the good guys is just so fascinating to watch. If anakin’s arc in tcw and the prequels is about him getting worse and worse and making all the wrong choices again and again then kallus’s overarching storyline is about learning that actually his choices were wrong and he is the villain and he needs to accept that and try to do better as best he can. Ymmv on how well it was executed (and I do think there are parts that could have been done so much better) but the bare bones are there (and also I do love the interactions he has with kanan and Ezra post defection pre extraction where they’re like “this guy 😤” and are doing things like throwing him through glass screens to cover for him bc hey! They’re helping and they get to be a bit petty about it bc they still don’t like him and he just. Has to put up with it bc he’s on their side now and they are technically helping him)
I don’t know I just think it’s a pretty interesting arc to follow and I do think that however clumsily handled (again ymmv on how clumsily), the idea in his character of “it’s not too late to change and to choose to do better, you can unlearn your prejudice and biases and you can always start trying to do good no matter who you are” is a really important message that feels like Star Wars yk
(Side note: I just wanted to add that I love the anakin salt and the pro Jedi posts. I always pop around your blog when I’ve seen a few too many “he’s misunderstood” takes for my own good and it’s really cathartic to see someone else point out he sucks in new ways I hadn’t yet considered. I also find your Ahsoka takes super interesting bc most other things I see either just straight up do not like her or think she’s perfect where I always fell in the middle of “she’s interesting and narratively seems to be there to point out how anakin could have been if he’d made different choices since their flaws are so similar” ❤️❤️❤️)
This probably should have been split into two asks but I’ve written it all out now and my break is over so I guess it’s going to be one
Hi! I'm glad my blog helps provide you an area to just feel a little bitter sometimes when fandom gets hard, that's exactly why I made it for myself, just an escape when I'm starting to forget why I like this stuff sometimes and I just need to get rid of some of the bitterness.
I'm not against the IDEA of an Imperial character who turns against the Empire, of watching an Imperial character start to learn better and change sides. I promise I'm not!
I just think it shouldn't have been Kallus. I don't personally believe that they had a redemption arc in mind for Kallus when they were writing him in the first season at all. I don't know when the idea first got brought up for the writers, but it doesn't really seem to be one they had in mind in early season 2, either, so it just comes out of NOWHERE in that episode with Zeb where they get stuck in the ice. And the side effect of this lack of set up means that they really were writing Kallus as an irredeemable villain. He led a genocide against Zeb's people, he laughs at Zeb about being a survivor, he uses one of the Lasat's weapons as a trophy he took from that genocide. He turns against one of his own fellow officers at the end of season 1/beginning of season 2 when Tarkin and Vader show up and want someone to answer for their failure on Lothal. He helps lead Tua to her death and SMILES about the whole thing. Tua's death could've been a way to begin that journey, give him a crack in the wall where he feels doubt about what they're doing, but it DOESN'T, it just makes him MORE of a fanatic.
So when you get to that episode with Zeb in the ice, all of the sudden you have to take Kallus at his word that he DIDN'T lead the genocide he's already been saying he led, that he DIDN'T steal the Lasat weapon he already said he stole, that he totally had a sorta sympathetic reason for wanting an entire group of people eliminated from the galaxy, and that he apparently cares about having friends in the Empire. This isn't just a retcon of his backstory, it's a retcon of his CHARACTER. And they have to "all lives matter" the entire situation to do it by having him point out that Zeb judges all Imperials the same (and sees them all as enemies) which is somehow equivalent to Kallus judging an entire SPECIES for the actions of ONE PERSON and choosing to go genocide the entire species as a result. That's not just clumsy, that's OFFENSIVE. This is one of the WORST written episodes of Star Wars I have ever seen, which is saying something since I've seen the Ahsoka show and the Book of Boba Fett and The Mandalorian Season 3.
I think my major issue with Kallus's "arc", beyond the offensiveness of the retcon of his entire character, is that it isn't really an arc at all. It's ONE episode. The next time we even SEE Kallus, he's already willing to help Sabine escape from the Empire and then season 3 goes on to basically tell us he's been acting as a spy most of the season now. We DON'T actually get to see that arc for Kallus, he spends a few hours in the ice with Zeb and that's all it takes to turn him against the Empire really. The few times he shows up in-between don't do a lot to really emphasize a JOURNEY he's going on, he's just already on the side of the rebels and trying to push back against the Empire. And he fucking SUCKS at it, too. They have to come rescue his ass TWICE because he wasn't good enough at being a spy to not get caught and then he has the fucking GALL to think he's thrown off Thrawn and refuses to run when Kanan and Ezra risk their necks to save him which is what directly leads to Chopper Base being discovered. So not only is his redemption "arc" barely there anyway, he's an awful rebel and an awful spy.
This is why I keep arguing that it should've been PRYCE to be the Imperial defector. She isn't introduced to the story until season 3, and so her character is basically a big blank slate. They'd MENTIONED her, but all we knew is that she was the governor of the planet or something and she was gone on Coruscant dealing with stuff. This and the fact that she has an ACTUAL connection to Lothal by being FROM THE PLANET gives her a really really excellent pathway towards turning on the Empire. Maybe she sided with the Empire because she genuinely believed it would help save them from what everyone else suffered by fighting back. Maybe she was promised certain advantages if she sided with the Empire that they could show haven't been kept. Let her CARE about Lothal and its people just enough for her to have a REASON to turn against the Empire and see its truth.
It's one of the other reasons I don't like using Kallus, he's not really emotionally connected to any character but Zeb. Turning Kallus does very little for the main characters Ezra and Kanan. If they were going to turn an Imperial character, which IS a fairly big thing to put into a narrative, I feel like it should've impacted the MAIN characters far more than it actually does. Let Ezra, the person whose story is being told here, be a part of the reason that Imperial character turns. Let that journey away from the Empire be something they're actively WORKING on rather than something that primarily happens off screen in Kallus's head.
I think the only reason they chose Kallus for this was because fans already liked him and they couldn't figure out what else to do with him at this point. He's a basically ineffective villain because he keeps having to lose and the only times he "wins" against the crew is when they LET him win by sacrificing themselves or something. And they were already starting to write him out as an antagonist by including Vader, Tarkin, the Inquisitors, and they might've known they were bringing in Thrawn in season 3 (and maybe that Pryce would finally show up) by the time that ice episode was being written. Kallus was becoming irrelevant, but fans enjoyed him so they had to figure out a way to make him relevant moving forward, and so, quick and dirty redemption "arc" so he can move to the rebel side. You'll notice he barely does anything in season 4, though, once he's moved to the rebellion he's just kinda... there. Irrelevant again because he's not actually good enough at anything to be worth having him DO anything important or interesting to the plot.
A LOT of people seem to think Kallus's "redemption" was really well done and I just can't agree. I think it would've been better to take Kallus a different direction, to really have him just succumb to being evil, to become even MORE of a fanatic for the Empire moving forward, and then just pick someone else to be the defected Imperial character. Or they should've had a redemption arc in mind for Kallus from the beginning. Using Tua's death to start the process of doubt in his mind, or having him be the one the Empire turns on would've both worked. They didn't give themselves enough time to really write him a good redemption arc where the reasons for why he turns on the Empire actually feel in character to what we've been told and shown of him so far.
I think if you just... start in season 3 and act like Kallus has HAD a true redemption arc already by season 3, then those scenes work. The humor of the Rebels crew starting to discover Kallus is on their side now and not entirely trusting that and wanting to punt him through a window IS funny! I, too, would like to throw Kallus through a window several times, even perhaps over a cliff or out an airlock. But those scenes come with the context of having seen the first two seasons and feeling the VERY abrupt 180 his character took without the show doing any of the actual work to make his defection seem realistic or reasonable. Season 3 is fine for Kallus, the scenes are funny, etc. But he wasn't actually redeemed yet and neither season 2 nor season 3 do the work to showcase that journey.
And I think that this is likely one of the reasons we DON'T see very many Imperial redemption stories and most of the Imperial defectors we see are already defected when we meet them. You can count Gorn and Taramyn from Andor in this category, as well. It's HARD to take a character who's been set up as violent, selfish, and cruel, and REALLY do the work necessary to turn them around into someone who would genuinely turn on the Empire and join the Rebellion. It's by no means impossible, but it takes a lot of work and a lot of focus on said character. Most of these shows and stories aren't willing to put in that kind of work because they're focusing on someone else who needs their story told instead, so it's easier to just... have someone who's already changed sides.
All of that being said, there IS a character who we've seen go through this arc that I think was done MILES better than Kallus.
Reva Sevander. An Inquisitor (possibly BY CHOICE unlike all of the others who were presumably captured and broken into it) working for the Empire, who DOES do violent and selfish stuff, but who ultimately leaves that behind by the end of the season. Reva, who obviously was written with that turn in mind, and so her tragedy is BAKED into her character from the moment the show begins (we literally start the ENTIRE SHOW with a flashback of Reva at the Temple when Order 66 starts, and the terror of that night). The twist in her character, that she's doing all of this as a way to get closer to Anakin so she can kill him as vengeance for the Jedi, doesn't feel like it comes out of nowhere. It's just always been there FROM THE BEGINNING. Making her an Inquisitor, something Jedi: Fallen Order and some comic books have fleshed out into people who weren't given much choice in becoming monsters, was an expert choice. Using her to parallel and foil Anakin, someone whose primary storyline is that he was a GOOD person who turned bad and still had good in him, also helps her out.
I'd argue Reva hasn't gone on a full "redemption arc" as yet, she's sort-of barely scratched the surface of it, but she does obviously make the choice to STOP going down the path she's on, to turn away from her anger and vengeance, and leaves behind being an Inquisitor and the darkness she'd succumbed to. The reasons for why she does the things she does MAKE SENSE, they're narratively relevant, they're important to the main character of the story she's in, and the writers didn't wait too long to tell us more about her and her motivations. It's expertly done in my opinion.
So while Kallus might have been the first Imperial defector to show up in mainstream Star Wars, he is not the ONLY Imperial character we have seen to turn against the Empire. And yet Kallus gets praise and accolades for being such a great character with such a great character arc, while Reva got panned and critiqued for being unlikable. I wonder what could be the reason behind that.
So I think you and I have fairly similar feelings on this in that the IDEA of a redeemed Imperial character whose journey towards turning on the Empire is actually shown is a GOOD story to tell (with a very Star Wars style message, as you say), but that the way it was done with Kallus was REALLY badly written. You seem to be leaning towards liking the concept enough that the clumsiness of it is outweighed, whereas I hate the clumsy way it was written so much that my positive feelings towards the concept are outweighed.
And I deserve a good Reva show where we get to follow more of her character post-OWK where she still has to work on herself and figure out who she is now that she's left the darkness behind. Finish the arc she's only just started on.
#star wars#reva#reva sevander#anti kallus#anti aleksander kallus#kallus critical#aleksander kallus critical
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