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#[[ I guess this is their version of sappy -shrug emoji- ]]
countlessrealities · 1 year
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{ @mcltiples || To Evil Rick from Weird Rick // someone decided to skip the science and go straight for the romantic route xD }
Inside of the lab, Rick decides to sneak up on his partner. He stood behind him, curling his arms around the other's waist, pulling closer to his own body. His chin rested on a shoulder. Comfortable and pleased with the positioning. If it were reminiscent of a romantic embrace, it was mostly due to his own instincts and the fact he could show off the gift easily.
In his hands, that were settled around Evil Rick's stomach, was a black velvety box. The clasp to it shone a silvery grey. It wouldn't stay closed for long. As the top of it opened, showing off a dark blue gem in the middle of a ring. The band itself a metallic black. Dark enough to show one's reflection.
"Do you like it, kitten?"
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The feeling of a body, warm and by now beyond familiar, pressing against his back caused Rick to stop mid-gesture, the blade he was about to use freezing mid air. He instinctively tensed, but only for the briefest moment, because that interruption, while unpredictable, wasn't completely unexpected. Between the mistletoe episode of the day before and the obnoxious Christmas jingles that had been playing in the background all day long, he had grasped that his partner was in a festive mood.
Or, more accurately, that the other was in the mood to mock all the holiday clichés he could think of. From the decorations to the music to the traditions.
What Rick hadn't anticipated was to be faced with a present. Maybe, if it had been a mock one, meant to be yet another joke, he wouldn't have felt so caught off guard. It would have been in theme with everything else his alternate had done so far. Yet, even just looking at the box, he could tell that this was no prank. What he was looking at was a genuine, thoughtful gift.
Gray blue eyes flew sideways, catching a glimpse of the face set right next to his own, but then quickly dropped down once again when the lid was lifted, revealing the beautifully crafted ring.
Silence stretched between them as he momentarily ignored the other's question, choosing to take the box out of his partner's hand instead. His fingers plucked the jewel out of it, lifting it so that he could examine it more closely. The gem caught the whiteness of the artificial lights, shining as if it had been shining on its own, while his own blank stare looked back at him from the perfectly smooth black band.
His cybernetic eye measure the inner diameter of the ring in a split second, showing that it was the exact same of the fourth fingers of his own left hand. The spot usually reserved for wedding rings, with the exception that he would be the only one to wear it, in line with the imbalanced nature of their relationship.
The symbolism, while not overly open, wasn't lost to him. It was yet another way to mark him as taken, owned. A mark that would be there for everyone to see and understand. He briefly wondered why a ring, of all things, when there were stronger ways to remind the universe whom he belonged to, but he quickly discarded the question. He would take what he was given, as per usual.
The jewel slid easily along his finger, until it came to rest in the spot where it was supposed to be, hugging his flesh and bone with the exact amount of pressure that told him that it had found the spot where it was supposed to be. Yet another piece of the leash he had willingly put on himself and then handed to his alternate.
The corner of lips twitched upwards, in the shadow of a more than rare smile. Not a crazed smirk, not a sadistic grin. The closest thing to an actual smile his features were capable of.
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"Yes," came the quiet answer, as he turned his head to be able to look at his partner once again. "Y-You have an oddly good eyes for aesthetics, Rick."
Perhaps the statement held a little jab, but there was no sharpness in it, especially as he let himself relax, even if imperceptibly, against the body embracing him. His hands covered his partner's fingers sliding between the other's. Not really intertwined by close enough.
"Thank you."
From where it was strapped on the operating table set in front of them, paralysed by an agent that left it completely conscious and able to experience every sensation, Rick's latest test subject let out a muffled sound of confused distress. It was quiet, but not quiet enough. Quicker than a heartbeat, the hand with the ring picked up the blade that had been set aside and slashed the creature's throat open in one smooth movement.
Splatters of dark purple sprayed his skin and the front of his clothes, painting his fingers and staining the gem. It was a little of a waste, but it didn't matter. He could still harvest what he had meant to extract and he could find another live specimen easily enough. He would deal with it later in any case.
Rick nestled his head in the crook of his alternate's neck. "...T-Turn off that irking music or I will cut your head off."
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yoon-kooks · 4 years
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The Devil Writes Romance | myg
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Pairing: Yoongi x Reader
Genre: fluff, angst, college!AU, fuckboy!AU, fanficwriter!Yoongi
Summary: When you’re assigned to work with Min Yoongi on a final project for your Writing Fiction course, you stumble upon the fuck boy’s secret identity as a sappy fanfic writer. With the heart and soul of an aspiring editor, you’re somehow convinced by the boy himself to help make his fictional romance more realistic and heartfelt. Before you know it, you’ve made a not-so-innocent pinky promise with the devil.
Word Count: 3.2k
Warnings: mentions of sex :-)
A/N: this is basically a pilot that sets up a lot of plot for a potential series so lmk if you like the idea and would continue reading it as a series! also special shoutout to @chewymoustachio​ for the love & support 💖
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As spring semester comes to a close, your only goal is to make it through finals week unscathed. Like many of your fellow English majors, most of your finals are extensive papers rather than traditional exams. Normally this would not stress you out, but your Writing Fiction course has thrown a curveball your way: half of your grade is dependent on your partner, Min Yoongi.
Personally, you’ve never been a fan of partner or group projects because you always somehow end up with incompetent teammates who either do a half-assed job or ghost you until the day before it’s due. Either way, you’ve learned and become accustomed to relying only on yourself.
However, as your Writing Fiction class has taught you, a writer’s world is not built upon independence. Rather, it’s built upon the opposite. Writers depend on others for support, feedback, and revision. That’s where your final project comes on.
For your final project, everyone in your class signed up for the role of either a writer or editor, and you’ve been randomly paired up with someone who chose the opposite. It’s no secret to anyone that you dream of becoming an editor in the industry. You love the idea of reviewing other writers’ works and providing them with as much feedback and constructive criticism as possible. Naturally, you signed up to be an editor.
As fate would have it, you find yourself paired with the boy who’s pretty much slept with the entire class, including the TA, and allegedly the professor. The only person left unchecked on his list is you. Somehow, you’ve heard more gossip about his sex life than his skills as a writer, which is why you believe you’re fucked for this final.
“Hey, Partner,” Yoongi catches up with you in the hall after class. His signature cedarwood cologne is too heavy to ignore as he strides beside you. “Are you free tonight?”
“To brainstorm some story ideas?” You tilt your head and add an innocent tone to mask the skepticism. Truthfully, you know what he really wants. It’s not your first rodeo.
“I actually already have a story in mind,” he says. “But I was thinking you and I could-”
“What’s the story about?” Because you’d much rather hear about that than one of Yoongi’s many excuses to get in your pants.
“You’ll just have to wait and see,” he shrugs as the two of you walk out of the building and into the beaming afternoon sun. You lift an arm to block the light out of your face, only to realize the boy’s shadow blocks it for you. Apparently, there are perks to walking with a buddy after class. “I’ll send you the draft tonight.”
“The professor literally just assigned the project and it’s not due for another week,” you raise an eyebrow. Weird, you’ve never seen a college kid so proactive and eager to get a head start on their final project. Something tells you the boy is just spouting bullshit and telling you what you want to hear. “You don’t have to rush and write all ten thousand words in a single night…”
“Well I don’t have any other plans tonight,” he says. “Unless you want to-”
“Nice try, Yoongi.” You start walking further ahead of the boy. You’re forced to squint as to not be blinded by the sun. “I guess you can have fun writing your story, then.”
“You really know how to play hard to get, Y/N…” Yoongi whines in that raspy voice of his, eliciting the tiniest smirk on your face. You might not approve of his fuck boy tendencies, but you’re also not opposed to teasing him a bit.
“If you really want to impress me, keep your word and send the draft tonight.” You spin around and wave farewell as you battle the sun. “Your editor will be waiting.”
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As soon as you arrive home, you realize Yoongi isn’t the only one without any Friday night plans. With nothing to do, a large part of you hopes your partner keeps his promise so you can at least try to be productive over the weekend. But ten thousand words is a lot to write in one night. It’s more than likely that he won’t be able to pull it off.
In an attempt to wind down, you scroll through the blog feeds of your favorite writers. Many of them, such as @suga-fix and @jk-seagull, are college students like you, so you can appreciate all the time and effort they put into their craft on top of their school work. While the fan in you loves to shower them with sweet and supportive messages, the editor in you hopes to one day be able to also provide feedback on a professional level.
At the very top of your feed is a short post from @suga-fix, a romance fanfic writer whom you recently found while scouring the #jiminscenarios tag for something free of smut.
“Does anyone else struggle to ask their crush out or is it just me? Asking for a friend.”
You giggle at the innocent question. In addition to writing the sappiest Jimin fanfics, Suga is known to post snippets of his own nonexistent love life on his blog. From what you understand, he’s a boy who’s never experienced true love firsthand. Recently, however, he’s been gushing over his pretty classmate. You’re waiting for the day when he builds up enough courage and finally lands a date.
Until then, you’re satisfied with reading his ongoing fictional love story featuring the popular idol, Park Jimin, as a struggling romance novelist who finds inspiration in a skeptical wedding photographer. You absolutely adore the story, the characters, and the underlying narrative, but the editor in you can point out an area for improvement: his romance game. 
You notice the two main characters lack a certain level of chemistry to get the readers quaking and itching for more. Most of the time, the intimate scenes end with poor Jimin getting friendzoned, which certainly has its charm and humor. But truthfully, you expect a little more love from a romance fic.
You suspect that, to some extent, this is intentional as the characters are the type to dance around intimacy and have pessimistic views on romance overall. However, you also wouldn’t be surprised if Suga’s own personal inexperience with romantic scenarios is what holds him back the most.
After catching up on your socials, eating dinner, and hopping out of the shower, you sit in the darkness of your room and check one more thing before calling it a night. No email, no text, no draft from your partner. Not that you were actually expecting anything, but it would’ve been nice for the fuck boy to prove you wrong.
To be fair, you know how long and painful ten thousand words can be. If Yoongi is in fact sprinting through those ten thousand words and gets them to you by the time you wake up, you’ll consider him a man of his word.
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[4:56AM] Yoongi💋 “I emailed you the thing”
[7:24AM] Y/N “Ooh, I’ll take a look 👁👁”
[7:25AM] Y/N “Btw I don’t appreciate you adding an emoji to your contact info on my phone”
After changing Yoongi’s contact name to something more appropriate, you go into your email and find the story draft that the boy had sent at exactly 4:55AM. The word count on the document says 10,382. Not too shabby, Min Yoongi.
You grab your morning caffeine and crack open your laptop to read your partner’s story on the big screen. Right away, you notice the document is titled “Untitled1” which is never a great sign, but you’re willing to forgive him if its content is stellar.
The first thing that puts a smile on your face is the main character, Jimothy. His name reminds you of your favorite idol, Jimin, with a playful touch. He’s the romance novelist who attends his friend’s wedding where he has a chance encounter with a pretty wedding photographer-
Wait. You’re pretty sure you’ve heard this story before. In fact, you know exactly where it came from. You pull up Suga’s Jimin fic and put it side-by-side against Yoongi’s version. While it’s not exactly a copy-and-paste situation, the romance novelist x wedding photographer premise is too similar for it to be a mere coincidence.
At first glance, you find it funny that Yoongi took the time to reword everything to not be caught by the plagiarism police. If you didn’t know any better, you’d assume he did a quick search of Jimin fanfiction and picked one that was moderately popular but not viral enough for anyone to notice. Jimin fanfic just so happens to be your guilty pleasure, so there’s absolutely no way you’d let a plagiarist slip one past you.
But upon further review, after digesting the entirety of the fic, you find that Yoongi’s flow and choice of words are eerily similar to Suga’s style without recycling a single line. Likewise, you notice the same lack of chemistry in both versions of the story. You suppose this can only mean one thing, and you need to confront him about it in person. Because the last thing you want is for him to ghost you like everyone else you’ve ever worked with.
[8:42AM] Y/N “I just finished looking it over”
[8:43AM] Y/N “Wanna get coffee & discuss? ☕️📖”
[8:45AM] Yoongi🐍 “Oh? I thought you weren’t interested in a date with me 🥺”
[8:46AM] Y/N “Let’s meet in about an hour at the coffeehouse on campus?”
[8:46AM] Yoongi🐍 “See ya there, my editor”
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As you stir the oat milk into your second dose of caffeine for the morning, you wonder how you can bring up your suspicions in an appropriate and professional way. Should you confront him about it immediately, gently coax him in that direction, or take a more passive approach to see if he’ll mention it on his own? Because if you’re going to be this boy’s editor, you want to do it right.
“Thoughts?” Yoongi enters the chat with slightly damp hair and an iced Americano in hand. Your only thought in that moment is about how fucking good he smells, even in the presence of the rich aromas of your favorite roasted coffee beans. But you’ll leave those thoughts to yourself.
“My first thought was that you sent me a document titled Untitled1,” you say.
“I have a working title,” he assures you. “But I’m curious to hear what clever titles my editor has come up with after reading through the whole thing.”
“Pink Cheek Syndrome sounds appropriate.” Because that’s the title of Suga’s original fic. It’s also the term coined by Jimothy to describe couples who aren’t as in love as they’d like to believe. It’s a facade to fool everyone, including themselves.
“Great minds think alike after all.” Yoongi leans in to give you a high-five, but you just throw a balled up napkin at his palm. Confess. Just confess already.
“Can I ask what inspired the concept?” You bite your lip. “You don’t strike me as the romantic type.”
“Don’t you ever feel like people get into relationships just for the sake of being in a relationship?”
“Yeah.” All the time, in fact.
“It’s pretty shallow if you ask me,” he says with a nonchalant chuckle, as if he’s not the shallowest person on campus when it comes to established relationships. “PCS is just a commentary on people like that vs people like you and me.”
You and him? You’re not sure you have anything in common with someone who breaks hearts and sleeps around so casually.
“Sounds like something a fanfic writer would come up with.” Because it is.
“Sounds like something a fanfic reader would say,” he throws back at you.
“In fact, there’s a Jimin fanfic I read once called Pink Cheek Syndrome,” you say. The dose of coffee moving up Yoongi’s straw suddenly freezes. “You’re the original writer, right?”
He swallows hard and raises an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”
“The writing style matches even though you didn’t copy and paste,” you scroll back through Yoongi’s version for reference. “And besides, scrambling to write ten thousand words in one night is typical fanfic writer behavior. A true plagiarist doesn’t know what it means to put those hours in.”
“Nothing gets past your sharp eyes, huh, Y/N…” Yoongi sighs, failing to hide behind his Americano. “I’m equally impressed as I am scared.”
“Wait, so you’re really Suga?” Your eyes widen. Suddenly you’re overcome by a wave of emotions. Excited, nervous, star-struck. But most of all? Confused. “How?”
“Just don’t tell anyone.” He picks up his phone and starts typing away at something.
“I won’t,” you say, also pulling out your phone to check up on the @suga-fix blog. Sure enough, there’s a stream of several new posts from a few seconds ago.
“fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK”
“I feel so exposed 😔”
“Quick, everyone act like this isn’t a fanfic blog.”
“We can pretend to be like a porn blog or smth”
“I can read everything you’re posting, you know.” You show your blog feed to Yoongi, who’s still busy keysmashing. When he finally glances up from his screen to yours, the look on his face is both flattered and distressed.
“You follow me, too?” The boy takes a long sip of his Americano, shifting his beady little eyes and plotting his next move. “What’s your URL?”
“You’re totally going to block me,” you frown. “I already told you, I’m not going to tell anyone…”
As you continue to scroll through Yoongi’s blog, you notice his post is gone from the day before. Perhaps that’s what the boy is desperately trying to hide.
“By the way, is it true that Min Yoongi, resident fuck boy, has a crush on someone?” You get excited because that’s not something you hear everyday. In regards to Yoongi, it’s always been sex, sex, and more sex. He’s notorious around campus for having one-night stands and breaking hearts the morning after. You’d never imagine a boy like him having an innocent crush on anyone.
“Where’d you hear that?” The boy across from you gradually sinks deeper and deeper into his seat every time you open your mouth to expose him further.
“You made a post yesterday about not being able to talk to your crush properly,” you giggle. “It was kind of cute.”
“I was talking about my friend.”
“You can’t fool me, Yoongi. I’m not that oblivious.” You take a sassy sip of your coffee and lean forward. “So who’s your crush? Is it someone in our class?”
“Don’t worry about it, Y/N,” he shoos you away and slides a hard copy of his draft in your direction. “Let’s not get distracted from why we’re really here.”
“Hold it, I’m not just being nosy for the gossip, you know,” you say. “From an editor’s perspective, I think the romance in your story could benefit from you interacting more with your crush.”
For a moment, Yoongi just gives you a look. You can see the wheels spinning in his head. “Well, that person doesn’t seem very interested in me, so…”
“Unrequited love?” you gasp. The plot thickens.
“Yeah,” he chuckles at your enthusiasm. “But you did give me an idea just now.”
You examine his handsome face for a hint of what’s to come. His signature Fuck Boy Smirk tells you he’s up to no good again. “I’m listening.”
“You’re my editor, right?” he asks. You nod. “And your main critique is that I should up my romance game, right?”
You nod again.
“What if you help me make the romance scenes more believable and realistic?” The boy watches as you blink your wide eyes, stunned at his suggestion. You know he doesn’t just mean that from an editorial standpoint. Surely there’s an ulterior motive here. “And before you jump to any conclusions, no, this does not include sex.”
Oh.
You’re reminded that Yoongi doesn’t write smut, despite how much of a fuck boy he is in real life. Because you’re sure he has the capability and personal experience to write some steamy and wild sex scenes. And yet, he chooses to focus on hardcore romance instead, something he himself is much less familiar with. It’s mind-blowing to think that a boy as experienced in bed as Yoongi could be so inexperienced elsewhere.
Why does he write the opposite of how he lives?
“I don’t think that’s how editors work,” you finally respond to Yoongi’s proposal, flipping through his draft and writing in the margins. You have to admit, the boy has a gift. His stories would no doubt skyrocket in popularity if the lovey-dovey scenes could draw out true, raw emotions as though you were there living in those moments. As a reader, you want him to pull at your heartstrings, smash your heart into a million pieces, and slowly put it back together. All of that can be achieved if the writer gets some hands-on experience in the love department. “But I get what you’re saying.”
“So is that a yes or a no?” He sips down the rest of his Americano as you continue to think your decision through.
Given what you know about Yoongi’s track record as a fuck boy, you’re hesitant. But at the same time, the ambitious editor in you knows what you want.
“It’s a yes,” you sigh. “But only if you promise me a few things.”
“Go on.”
“One, you’ll come to me if you’re struggling and need suggestions, advice, or someone to talk to.”
“Easy. You can be my editor-in-chief.”
“Two, if anyone asks, we aren’t dating.”
“Got it.”
“Three, help me study and prepare for the rest of my finals.”
“We can have study dates.”
“And lastly, please don’t sleep with anyone else while we’re doing this thing. Because that would be awkward.”
“Oh? I didn’t realize you were the possessive type, Y/N,” he smirks.
“Not trying to be That Controlling Bitch who forbids you from sleeping around, but I think it would defeat the purpose of what we’re trying to accomplish.”
“But what if this goes on for a while?” Yoongi strokes his imaginary Santa beard. “You expect me to practice abstinence forever?”
“It won’t go on forever, Yoongi,” you giggle at the boy’s silly remark. “Because eventually, you’ll find someone who can bring out those romantic feelings better than our faux intimacy ever will.”
“But you’ll still be my editor-in-chief?”
“If everything works out, then I don’t see why not.” You want to be optimistic about a long-term deal, but you can’t seem to rid yourself of the doubt stuck in the back of your mind. Because humans, not just fuck boys like Yoongi, seem to have a hard time keeping their promises. “I only ask that you don’t break my trust.”
Before responding, the boy meets his eyes with yours. You suppose tender eye contact is a skill he acquired from his flirty lifestyle. You, on the other hand, blink away. Eye contact longer than a glance has always made you feel vulnerable.
“I won’t, Y/N,” he says, coating his raspy voice with a layer of honey. It’s almost as intoxicating as his cedarwood cologne, but that’s another thought you’ll keep to yourself.
You watch as he slides his pinky into view, over the draft and coffees to make it official. After cracking a smile at his childish gesture, you wrap your pinky around his, thus marking the beginning of your deal with the devil.
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