#I just. It really bothers me how they get erased completely from every single au so I decided I'll try to honor them more in my works | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nsheetee · 3 years

Text

Awaken

Pairing: chenle x reader Genre: friends to lovers AU, fluff, mature content Length: 6.4k Summary: When Chenle invites you on a last minute trip to his family’s home in China, you’re excited at the prospect of a small vacation and about spending time with your crush. Surprisingly, Chenle’s extended family is there as well, and a series of events quickly awaken something new in both of you. Warnings/Details: female reader, explicit sex (breeding kink, unprotected sex [please stay safe], creampie) disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. the characters and events are not a reflection of reality or meant to offend in anyway.

“What do you mean you can’t come? We were talking about this literally last night, and not even 12 hours later, you can’t come?!” Chenle practically screams into his phone as he stuffs random pants and shirts into his open suitcase. “Explain yourself, Park.”

“My mom suddenly wants me to come home.” Jisung sounds apologetic and slightly timid, “She said she’s cooking dinner tonight for our family and if I’m not at the table she’ll cut my tongue off. I know she won’t actually do it, but... I don’t want to test it.”

Chenle sighs, sounding bothered by this predicament, but Jisung knows his best friend isn’t going to be that sad about his absence. It’s not like Jisung has never been to Chenle’s house in China, and although he loves the place, he knows this won’t be the last opportunity for him to fly there. When Chenle sighs once more, this time just to be annoying and show how irritated he is, Jisung speaks again.

“Don’t be like that. You love visiting your family, just think of it as an opportunity to spend more time with them.” Jisung hears Chenle fall onto his bed on the other side of the line.

“I do love to visit, but my whole family is either younger than nine or older than thirty-five. I just want someone that’s my age to be with me if I feel lonely.” Jisung pouts at that. Chenle is an outgoing person and loves to be around the people he’s comfortable with, so hearing that he gets lonely without his best friend makes Jisung’s heart hurt a bit. However, an idea suddenly pops into his head.

“Hey, you actually do have another friend our age, and I bet she would love to go to China with you.” At the mention of a ‘she,’ the only ‘she’ both Chenle and Jisung know at the moment who would want to hang out, Chenle sits up straighter on his bed and his heart rate speeds up.

“Oh, ___?” He tries to sound nonchalant, “I’m not sure. She would be meeting my family, won’t she think that’s weird? And what if she feels uncomfortable? It’s not like she can just go home—”

“There are lots of what if’s, Chenle. All I know is that she finished her finals and is on break, and probably deserves a small vacation for her hard work.” Jisung pushes, suddenly excited that he can’t come on the trip if it means Chenle can get closer to you. “Just ask her. I promise it won’t hurt.”

“If she says no, it will hurt my pride. So, that’s a lie.”

“Chenle.” Jisung replies flatly.

“Fine, fine, I’ll ask.” Chenle plays with the hem of his shirt, thinking about how nervous he got over this trip just by adding you into the equation. With some last goodbyes and a promise that Chenle will update Jisung about everything that happens this weekend, the call ends. Chenle fidgets through his phone, procrastinating calling you, but when every single app is checked and there is only the phone icon staring back at him, Chenle sighs and finds your contact, pressing the call button.

After meeting you through Jisung, you and Chenle quickly became close friends. You’re both easy-going, prefer staying up late at night, and okay with being lazy at home, so hanging out together is easy to do. It also doesn’t hurt that you’ll eat literally anything Chenle cooks, boosting his pride tenfold when you praise him endlessly for his cooking. Actually, one night at his house after he made dinner and you shared a bottle of wine on the rooftop of his house while looking at the night sky, wishing the light pollution didn’t erase all the stars, that’s when he figured it out.

You’re important to Chenle. So, so important.

He knows he has feelings for you, and that he cares about you deeply. He is aware of your presence whenever you’re in the same room and gets that longing feeling in his stomach when your attention is taken away from him. There is no doubt that Chenle is in the middle of falling head over heels for you, but he always feels the need to keep a few steps back.

He walks on a tightrope, on one end is friendship and on the other is love, and he’s stuck in the middle. You’ve given him hints of attraction and subtle nuances in your words that could possibly mean you have feelings for him as well, but nothing concrete enough that gives Chenle the confidence to walk further along the tightrope.

Maybe, just maybe, this trip can bring you two closer to the end of this balance beam.

“A trip?” Chenle hears excitement in your voice after he explains what happened with Jisung, and he feels hopeful, “That sounds like fun!”

“Great. I’ll pick you up in three hours.” Chenle feels giddy and nervous at the same time, his leg bouncing up and down to portray all of his feelings.

“Oka— Wait. Three hours?”

“Bye!” Chenle abruptly ends the call before you can ask anything else or change your mind, throwing his phone to the other side of the bed. He takes a few deep breaths and then stands up, continuing to pack his things. This time with more skip in his step that’s fueled by the promise of your presence with him for the whole weekend.

It’s already nearing 6pm when you arrive in Shanghai. You follow Chenle closely as he leads you through the airport, looking really confident about every turn he makes as he weaves through the busy and tired looking people. However, you’re both thrown off your path when a large window on your right catches your eye, the night view of the city of Shanghai making you stop in your tracks and swerve to take a closer look.

Your hands smudge the clean windows as you lean in and stare at the enormous city, the sparkling lights and tall buildings look like you just took a flight to the future, not just a few hours south.

“It’s pretty…” You trail off, not really talking to anyone in particular. Chenle, who followed you to the window and also stares at the view from beside you, smiles at the comment.

“You like it?”

“It’s amazing…” You sound like you’re in a daze, which makes Chenle smile wider.

“I should show you the view from the balcony in my room. It’s ridiculous.” Chenle nods and gives the view one more glance over. His words bring you back to reality, making you shiver.

In Chenle’s bedroom… where so many things other than watching the night sky can happen.

You heat up in embarrassment at the dirty thoughts, yelling at yourself in your head for thinking like that when Chenle probably meant it in the most innocent way.

“We should probably get going..” Chenle seems completely oblivious to your predicament, yawning as he turns around and continues walking through the airport. You follow him, lightly biting the inside of your cheek as your previous thoughts fly through your mind again.

The Shanghai airport is crowded, almost over-crowded. After traveling further through the airport, it gets hard to follow Chenle’s leather bucket hat that bobs through the sea of people and you have to grip onto his backpack so that you don’t lose him. He feels the sudden weight on his bag, turning around to see you struggling.

His hand finds yours, making you release the grip on his zippers and instead intertwine with his fingers, turning to look forward and once again leading you to baggage claim. Your hands start to sweat and you feel embarrassed, but Chenle doesn’t seem to mind as he squeezes your fingers softly and glances back at you to make sure you’re okay. He doesn’t let go of your hand until your luggage arrives, and when he does release your hold, you feel very cold and empty from the lack of Chenle’s touch.

“Mom, I’m home!” Chenle yells into his house, dragging his suitcase behind him and taking off his shoes, “I brought a friend.” You both leave your things at the door and Chenle hands you some slippers, then you follow him through the house in search of his mother. You find her in the kitchen, stove on and several pots and pans cooking food at once.

“Chenle!” She exclaims after seeing her son, and then her eyes fall on you.

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you.” You politely greet her, slightly unsure of what her reaction to you will be.

“You didn’t tell me you’d be bringing your girlfriend here.” She laughs gleefully and leaves the stove to come closer, almost jumping on the tile floors over to you.

“Oh, we’re n-” You begin, but Chenle cuts you off.

“Jisung couldn’t come, so I brought ___ here instead. I hope that’s okay.”

“Oh, it’s perfectly fine,” She smiles, which makes you relax a bit, “You’ve never brought anyone here other than Jisung, I was beginning to think you don’t know anyone other than him.”

It’s your turn to laugh, covering your mouth as you glance at Chenle to see him roll his eyes with a sour look on his face. Before he can retaliate, his mom cuts him off.

“Well, since you’re here, could you set the table? I’m running late on dinner and I need extra hands. Get out eleven plates and those high chairs we keep in the closet.” She quickly makes her way back to the stove after warmly rubbing your arm, moving faster than your eyes can follow as she adjusts spices and stirs.

“Why so many?” Chenle asks.

“Your aunts and uncles are coming over today.” At that information, you turn to face Chenle with an unsure look painted on your face.

“Is it okay that I’m here?” You step closer to him and whisper, “If you’re having a family dinner, I don’t want to intrude.”

“Of course it’s okay. Don’t even worry about it.” Chenle gently grabs your shoulders and turns you around, forcing you to walk out of the kitchen and back into the foyer. You collect your luggage and head upstairs.

Chenle’s house has an impressive three stories with several bedrooms, an office, and a lounge room in the top two floors and the rest of the important rooms on the first floor. You didn’t see much of the backyard, but you caught sight of several trees that surround the house, making the area more private. Considering this place is close to the city, you’re amazed at how all of this belongs to Chenle and his family.

His room is on the third floor, and you take a look inside when he sets down his things on his bed. The balcony he mentioned earlier is covered with long white curtains and his bed is wide, taking up a good chunk of space. On the other side of the room, a TV hangs on the wall and there are several gaming consoles hooked up. Overall, a normal guy’s room.

“You’re next door…” He mumbles and leads you to the room next to his. The layout is a mirrored version of his room, only the balcony is replaced with large windows and the room is more generic looking rather than lived-in like Chenle’s. You set your things down and glance out of the window; you’re met with the canopy of trees that grow in his backyard.

“And your bathroom is right here,” Chenle’s voice brings you back to the room, showing you inside the bathroom, “And if you need anything, my room is right through here.” He opens a door in the bathroom to reveal his room on the other side. You nod and walk over to the bed, plopping down on the soft covers.

“Your house is amazing. I feel like I’m staying at a fancy AirBnB… but I don’t have to pay for it and there’s a family staying here too.” You both laugh at that, but your comment has you questioning your stay here some more.

“You’re sure it’s okay for me to be here? I don’t want to take your time away from family.” You bite your lip and look up at Chenle, looking for his honest answer. You’d hate for Chenle to not spend all the time he can with his family while he’s here, considering he can’t visit often.

“I am 100% sure that you’re okay to stay here. I think everyone will l-love you.” Chenle clears his throat after his stutter, hoping you wouldn’t question his sudden nerves surrounding the topic of love.

“Okay.” You nod and rub your hands over your thighs to rid yourself of anxiety. You only keep asking because you hate to be an intrusion. But if Chenle is sure that your presence here is okay, then you’re going to enjoy this vacation to the best of your abilities.

“You get settled, I’ll go help my mom. I’ll get you when dinner is ready.” Chenle turns around to leave the room, but you stop him.

“Oh, I can help. It’s the least I can do, and it seems like there’s a lot to get ready.”

“But you’re a guest—”

“I don’t mind.” You smile and leave the room first, looking over your shoulder as if to beckon him to try and stop you. Chenle doesn’t, partially because he wants to spend any second he can with you, even if it’s just setting the dinner table. But he also doesn’t stop you because that would mean grabbing onto your hand and pulling you back, and Chenle almost had a heart attack at the airport the first time he did that. Thinking back on it, the action felt natural but it still startled him, and he can’t get the feeling of how your soft hands feel in his own out of his head.

“Hey, wait up! You’ll get lost.” Chenle calls out and quickly follows you out of the room.

Chenle’s family loves you. In fact, Chenle thinks they love you just a little too much.

From his mom cooing at you as you help Chenle properly set the table to his aunts and uncles endlessly talking about your hobbies and school, it seems like you’re the life of the party tonight. However, that’s not what catches Chenle’s eye.

As he’s carrying some drinks to his dad and uncles who decided to sit outside after eating, Chenle passes by the living room to see you and his nieces and nephews playing. You’re reading a book to one of the younger kids while the others are coloring next to you and constantly showing you their art, seeking your approval or ideas on what they should draw next. Chenle’s two older nephews are playing tag around the table, and overall it’s just a whole ruckus. Chenle only has a chance to glance into the room for a second before continuing his trip outside to deliver the drinks.

As he’s coming back in, he’s startled by his older nephews who took their game of tag out into the hallway, almost running into Chenle.

“Woah, woah, woah. You shouldn’t be running in the hallway, get back in the living room.” Chenle ushers the boys back and once all of them are in the living room, he shuts the doors completely to keep anyone from going back out. His eyes land on you, you’re in the same position as you were before, but now you look up at Chenle and give him a warm smile while patting the spot next to you.

Chenle sits with his legs crossed while facing the same direction as you, looking over his niece's artwork and complimenting their scribbling, and then leaning back against the couch to mirror your position.

“I guess it’s more fun to play with the kids than with the adults?” Chenle asks, making your attention move from the TV screen where a kid’s movie is playing to meet Chenle’s eyes.

“Don’t you find it fun to play with kids? I think there’s never a dull moment with these guys.” You laugh and motion around the room as if to make your point.

“So, you like kids?” Chenle asks.

“Yes, a lot.” You nod, watching him look away and nod at your words. “What about you?”

“My nieces and nephews are… a bit too wild for me.” He admits, “But I like kids. I would like to have my own kids in the future.” Chenle speaks without really thinking about his words, just talking to you about anything is nice. When he realizes what he said at the end, his eyes glance over at you to gage your reaction.

“Same here. There’s some special sort of happiness that comes with having kids. I see it all the time on mothers’ faces, and I always wonder what it feels like. I bet you can’t really find that kind of feeling anywhere else in the world.” You muse, and Chenle quickly agrees with your sentiment, involuntarily gulping as the thoughts in his head rampage.

Could you get anymore perfect for him?

You look down at your thigh, for some reason not being able to look at Chenle in the eye. “I think… You’ll be a really good father, Chenle.”

Just from your simple words, Chenle’s heart begins to pound in his ears and warmth spreads through his chest. He watches you shyly look up at him, not being able to do anything but stare at you for fear of his body moving without his control.

“Can you please read again.” His youngest niece breaks the staring contest between you two with her question, pulling your gaze away from him. When your attention is on his niece, he quietly slips out of the room and stumbles up the stairs to his bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind him.

He paces around his bed, his hands running through his hair as he tries to figure out

what just happened. You said you like kids. You said you would like kids in the future. You also said you think Chenle would make a good father. Are you purely giving him compliments or… could you be hinting at something else?

Why does Chenle feel like his heart might explode any second if he keeps thinking about you. On second thought, he looks down, his pants might be the thing that explodes. Chenle sighs, slightly embarrassed that he got hard by just thinking about you.

You looked so cute playing with his nieces and nephews, so kind and genuinely warm hearted to them that it melted Chenle’s heart. He wants to see it again. He wants to see you reading a book to them and changing your voice for every character, listening intently as they tell you story after story, rubbing their backs gently as they color.

Chenle wants to see you like that with his kids.

His own thought scares him a bit, and he sits down on his bed while trying to calm his breathing. He’s even more surprised at the shot of pleasure that runs through him at his own idea. He feels his stomach turn pleasantly at the thought of a little you and him running around, you showing your love to both Chenle and your child.

Warmth grows in Chenle's heart; he wants it so bad.

He can imagine the picture so clearly in his head that it hurts him to think about it, since he knows he’s far from that point in his life. That doesn’t stop him from getting turned on, though. He digs the heel of his palms into his eyes and breathes deeply, trying to think of something —anything— else. Why is it that whenever you’re around, he can’t think of anything, but whenever you’re not around, he can only think of you?

‘It’s useless’ he sighs, scooting up on his bed and moving his bedsheets away.

Sitting against his head board, Chenle grips his sheets in one hand and his other slides down his stomach, tickling him slightly, and over his crotch. Swallowing thickly, he closes his eyes and focuses on his warm hand stimulating his member. He can’t help but let out a soft sigh at his own teasing, but soon has had enough and quickly pushes down his pants and boxers to let his dick spring out. Using some precum that glistens as it runs down the side of his dick, he starts pumping his shaft, eventually getting fully hardened.

His wrist turns every time he reaches the end of a pump and he slides down the headboard as his eyes flutter from the pleasure. Chenle is good at staying quiet thanks to the years of practice in his full house, but he can’t help the whines he emits every so often when his fingers move over his tip.

But soon, Chenle turns frustrated. He’s doing all the things he knows his body likes, but his orgasm is just too far away still. He becomes impatient, starting to shift his hips around and rub his length faster as sweat builds on his forehead, but it only hurts his wrist and makes him itch for his orgasm more.

Every time Chenle thinks of you while getting off, he feels a bit guilty.

He hopes you don’t mind it, but you hold a place in his heart and Chenle is very attracted to you, it’s impossible to think of anyone else when he’s in this position. So, Chenle takes a breather, and when he continues his stroking, he thinks about your tiny hand replacing his instead. His eyes immediately roll to the back of his head and he finds it hard to keep himself sitting up.

Chenle’s head is tilted back, his jaw dropping open bit by bit as he moves on to thinking about your warmth mouth around his cock, the way your face would look as you glance up at him and kiss up his thighs before sliding his member through your lips again.

Chenle has to shove the duvet he has been gripping into his mouth to stop the moan that almost leaves his throat, his eyes screwing shut as he imagines how good your wet pussy would feel around his dick, sliding in and out as you chase your own release. He loses composure when he imagines what your pants and moans would sound like in that situation, what your nails would feel like gripping onto his shoulder for dear life, and what the flesh of your hips and waist would feel like under Chenle’s hands as he drives you harder onto his cock.

Chenle eventually starts thrusting his hips up into his hand, desperately chasing his high to the very highest peak. Chenle has thought about you many times while jerking himself off, but this time around, the thing that makes him tip over the edge is the thought of his cum shooting into you. He lets himself fall into the pleasure, seeing stars at the thought of his seed filling you up. He milks himself as strings of cum land on his thighs and pants, going to the very last stroke until it almost feels painful.

He limply falls over on his bed, breathing heavy and ears slightly ringing from the intensity he brought upon himself. When the feeling goes away he opens his eyes and listens to the sounds of the commotion downstairs, his mom and aunties playing with the kids, and the cars that drive by outside his balcony. When he looks over at the bathroom door, his heart drops all the way to his stomach and his head turns fuzzy from panic.

You’re right there.

Maybe you think he doesn’t see you, half hidden by his bathroom door, but he sees your hand resting on the handle and he hears your heavy breaths all the way from across the room. A part of him wants to dig himself into the covers and never come back out, but he pushes that embarrassment away so he can think clearly. You’re just standing there, no doubt just saw him come, why aren’t you leaving?

“___,” Chenle calls out, his voice lower than you expected and making you flinch behind the door. “Come here.” He says it softly, but in a demanding tone, so you open the door all the way and look at him. A mess of sheets surrounds him and his hair sticks to his forehead from sweat, all of this is illuminated by the dim moonlight coming from the balcony. Taking small steps to him, you don’t know what to do with your hands or where to look, but Chenle makes it easy when he pulls you down on the bed next to him.

“Did you like what you saw?” His question startles you, “Tell me the truth.” He adds on. You nod, a question of your own coming to mind.

“Why did you say my name when you were doing… that?” Chenle’s eyes widen, not aware of your name slipping through his lips. “Tell me the truth.” You say back at him.

Something in Chenle tells him that things won’t be the same way between you two after tonight no matter how he tries to amend this situation, so he thinks he might as well take it as far as you’ll let him.

He leans into you slowly, lips sliding past your cheek and teasing the skin there, stopping to whisper into the shell of your ear. “Because I was thinking of you, why else?” He likes how you shiver, he likes seeing the goosebumps on your shoulder from his words. Scraping up as much courage as he can, he leans all the way in and places a hot kiss below your earlobe. He waits for you to push him away, but you only grab onto the front of his shirt for leverage, so Chenle continues. He presses slow and open-mouthed kisses down your neck, almost too slow, until he reaches your shoulder where he bites down gently, raising a sharp gasp out of you.

You push him away and look at his eyes. Chenle is afraid that you’ll tell him to stop because this surely means he screwed up, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the next words that come out of your mouth.

“Tell me what you were thinking about. I’ll make your dreams into reality.”

Chenle’s jaw drops slowly at that, looking over your face for any signs of a joke. But fire burns in your eyes and the hand that’s holding onto his shirt pulls him in, lips crashing together in your very first kiss.

It’s hot, the room and the kiss and the way your hand falls down to chest and stomach to reach his dick, once again twitching from just the slight sting your nails give him as they travel across his body, not to mention the way your tongue slides into his mouth, exploring every corner. The kiss is wet and messy, but neither of you care right now.

“Was it like this? Hm?” You pull away while tilting your head, somehow looking innocent as you start to pump his dick, the same way he did not too long ago. Chenle shakes his head, pushing on your shoulder to get you to sit on the floor. As you slide onto your knees Chenle grips the back of his shirt and pulls it over his head, wiping his hands on it, and throwing it behind him, not caring about how dirty it will be after.

When he looks down at you between his legs, your little hands moving his pants and boxers all the way down his legs, he thinks he must be dreaming. It has to be fake, you look too good with his spit covering your lips and your hands spread out on his thighs, looking up at him curiously as if to ask for what he wants next. This has to be a dream, but when he feels your soft hair bunching up in his hand and the first touch of your puffy lips on his sensitive tip, he knows this is anything but a dream.

He’s all too excited when his hips push up into your mouth and his hand tightens in your hair. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but he can’t help how good you’re making him feel. His toes curl, his mouth releases little whimpers and pleas filled with your name, probably the most vocal he has been in his entire life.

You don’t mind the roughness from him, you like it actually, the wetness building in your core proof of that. The sight above you, Chenle’s head tilted back and the outline of his abs flexing every time your tongue swirls around his dick is more than enough to get you heated, desperate for some friction between your legs. Just when you think Chenle is going to cum, he pulls you away from him, surprising you.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, suddenly afraid you did something wrong. He groans, his eyes squeezing shut hard enough that the dimples under his eyes come out. He lets you stand up, but grabs the back of your thigh to pull you closer to him.

“I should be good to you, I can’t let you sit on the floor and suck my dick all night, as much as I would like that.” That makes you chuckle a bit. Chenle smiles, moving your shirt up and peppering kisses over your stomach, right above your waistband. You remove your shirt, feeling Chenle’s hands play with the buttons and zipper of your pants.

“What’s next?” You ask after he slowly slides your pants off of your legs and throws them behind you. He looks at you, his eyes conveying how nervous he feels by your question. He’s not sure how you would feel about the next part of his fantasy.

“Can I come in you?” He asks so fast that you almost don’t register his words, but when you do your eyebrows quirk up. When you don’t say anything, Chenle continues, “I know this is kind of wild for our first time together, but I promise I’m clean and—”

“Sure.” Chenle shuts up at that, his eyes wide as he tries to read your face through the lack of good lighting. “I trust you. Do you trust me?” When Chenle nods, you climb onto his lap, your lips meeting again in a softer kiss than before. You grip the strands of his hair in the back of his head as you gently sit down on his thighs. Chenle immediately grabs your hips and pulls you flush against him, chest to chest and hips against hips so that you can feel his dick pressing against your center, raising a strangled gasp out of you.

Chenle takes that moment to slide his tongue in your mouth, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you against him while his other hand moves your hips against his own. His dick rubs against your center, the slickness that has seeped through your underwear making Chenle shake with pleasure. He kisses down your neck and chest to leave hickies on the top of your breasts while continuing to grind up into you, starting to feel obsessed with how you sound every time his dick rubs against your clit.

You’re in the middle of taking off your bra when his hand that was moving your hips moves to your front as he runs two fingers over your covered slit. It surprises you and you let out a moan, forgetting about your bra and covering your mouth to stop yourself from getting any louder. He moves your panties to the side and slides one finger in to test the waters, you clench around him instantly and sigh in relief at how he curls his finger in you.

“Relax,” He mutters and removes your bra all the way for you, his hand once again finding a palace at your waist to steady you on top of him, “I got you. You’re safe with me.” He mumbles against your shoulder between kisses as you get adjusted on top of him. Your nails that were gripping into his shoulders relax a bit, and he adds a second finger to stretch you out some more. Your shaky breath tickles Chenle’s ears when he does so, but eventually you start grinding down on his fingers.

Chenle takes a moment to watch you grind onto his hand, your eyes shut as you’re completely lost in your own pleasure. You even look pretty like this, how is that fair? Chenle can’t help but express his feelings in the form of kisses over any part of your skin he can reach. You’re pretty sure he has kissed everywhere by the time he pulls his fingers away, making you turn your attention on him.

“Are you sure this is okay?” He gives you one last chance to back out, but you nod your head in agreement, your head cloudy from pleasure and your whole body begging for him to fuck you already. He nods too, guiding his dick into your hole and letting you slide down him inch by inch. Every move downward sends his mind blank and his stomach tightening, watching how he disappears into you and twitching from how tight you are. You keep clenching around him and it’s driving him completely insane. He leans back on his hands, breathing deeply to keep himself under control.

When you’re sat all the way down, Chenle takes your hand in his and intertwines your fingers together to place your hand against his cheek. You’re not sure if he even realizes he does this since his eyes are still shut in pleasure, but the gesture makes you smile a bit.

When Chenle thrusts up into you, your smile drops. Fuck, that feels good.

Chenle releases your hand and instead takes a hold of your hips keeping you steady as he thrusts up into you in a steady rhythm, drawing out unstoppable groans and moans from both of you, not caring about who’s hearing you two. His hips slap against yours with every move, sending you closer and closer to your high as you hold onto each other. When he stops for a moment, no doubt tired from all of the work, you continue to roll your hips against his.

“Ah—” He groans at your movements, “Oh my god, ___, don’t stop.” He moans. If you thought Chenle’s singing voice sounded heavenly, then you think the voice he used to moan your name might be out of this world, filled with so much feeling and lust that you don’t think he can even register what he’s saying anymore.

You feel your orgasm approaching all too fast, and when Chenle’s hips start to move again, you think he might be close too. That’s when you lean into his ear, the same way he did to you when he started all of this just a while ago.

“Come in me, Chenle.” You beg him, and his hips move faster, the grip he has on your hips so tight you’re sure there’s going to be bruises. You can’t think about it right now, though, as his cock moves in and out of you mercilessly and your name tumbles out of his lips once again.

Your orgasm breaks open throughout you, spreading like a wildfire through your nerves. You’re sure you can feel Chenle all over you and all around you as you come, pleasure filling you up from your head to your toes. As your muscles flutter around him, Chenle lets go too, white and hot springs of his sperm shoot into you. He continues to fuck it into you, slowing down when he feels both of you almost topple over from fatigue.

He slowly lays down in his bed, careful when he rolls you to the side. Sliding his dick out, he watches his white seed flow out of your pussy and down your thigh, his lips opening in awe and surprise at how much he likes the sight.

“Are you okay?” He asks, suddenly realizing the redness around your hips and waist from his own hands.

“Oh, I’m great. I’m wonderful, actually.” You sigh out, your eyes closed as you are still trying to get over the orgasm Chenle gave you. Your words make him chuckle, a bit of cockiness peaking through.

“Huh, I guess I’m that good, yeah?” Chenle makes sure to send you a closed lip smile, and you peak an eye open to hit him gently against the arm before retracting and falling limp again, both of you not able to control your bubbling laughter.

Chenle always imagined what the other side of the balance beam would look like— how it would feel like. Now, as he looks at your messy hair, your shining skin under the moonlight, and your quiet mumbles about random things as you cuddle under the blanket, he thinks it may feel just like this.

Later, after you and Chenle cleaned up a bit and got situated under the covers with you laying your head on his shoulder and him tracing stars, hearts, and the Chinese characters of his name on your back, Chenle gets a phone call.

“Hey, how are you? How’s it going with ___?” Jisung asks on the other side. Once you hear his voice, you perk up and tilt your head to look at Chenle with a raised eyebrow.

“Everything’s good, really good, actually. How’s your family?” Chenle asks back, stopping his tracing for a second to flick your forehead gently, making you slightly scowl at him.

“Good, my mom didn’t cut my tongue off, as you can probably tell.” Chenle lets some air out of his nose in the form of laughter at Jisung’s joke.

“So, why did you call?” Chenle hums into the phone, burying himself closer to you under the covers.

“Don’t you remember? You said you would update me on anything that happens while you’re over there. Did something happen?” Jisung asks and Chenle can’t contain his smile as he answers.

“Park Jisung, I’m so glad you couldn’t come this weekend.”

“What? What does that mean—”

“I’m hanging up now.” Chenle ends the call, throwing his phone somewhere on the bed and wrapping his arm around you, cuddling closer to you and finally falling asleep.

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mallowstep · 3 years

Note

I'd love to hear some ✨StarClan Slander✨ from you

starclan fucking sucks and i'm not afraid to say it.

ugh. where to begin.

okay, starclan sucks in a lot of different ways. like, a lot. it sucks from a narrative perspective, it sucks from a lives-of-cats perpsective, and it sucks from a worldbuilding perspective.

like: starclan is incredibly inconsistent as worldbuilding. it. gah. that part is most in my control when i write, so i try to really like. maximize said control. but if you compare the description of fireheart getting his nine lives to any modern starclan scene, it pisses me off. starclan is so fucking Cool, and now it's not.

i could go on for a while, but it's more of the same.

and then from a narrative perspective like. it causes so many problems. and i don't mean starclan causes problems for the characters, i mean starclan is simultaneously the cause of a lot of problems while the narrative wants us to believe they are the good guys. starclan causing problems? interesting. starclan causing problems but they're Very Good Actually? lazy.

this is a small thing but like it bothered in tbc? okay so. the fact that the clans' relationship to starclan has changed doesn't bother me. it's really interesting. they've been through this time of massive upheaval, something which often correlates with this uptick in spirituality.

i do not need convincing to believe that as the clans have gone through these past ten or fifteen years, with an exodus and the whole great battle (even setting aside the religious implications and just focusing on: big battle, lots of betrayal, lots of death), and everything with skyclan and darktail, yeah!

like, there was a spiritualism wave in the us after the civil war because that's what people/humanized cats do in those times. they latch on to spirituality and religion. why do you think witchcraft is on an uptick again in modern times?

however the problem is the Narrative never acknowledges this, which makes it feel not like an intentional culture change but authors being lazy. i'm not sure what's worse: authors just leaning on starclan because it's interesting and easy, or authors simply failing to convey the nuances of culture change.

whichever makes the erins sound better, pick that one. i have no lost love for them, but i try to keep my criticisms factual.

anyway, i digress, here's my favourite example:

in tbc, it's this Big Deal how the moonpool is the place of the medicine cats, and other cats cannot enter, Nope No Sir, which, like, really fucking confused me.

what?

do leaders not speak with starclan anymore? is that. is that not a thing?

i mean, in tpb, leaders visit the moonstone all the time. apprentices visit it before coming warriors. it's pretty normal.

and i'm fine with the culture of the clans changing for the moonpool to be a medicine cat exclusive: that does not fundamentally bother me. there's even the smallest nod to this idea in po3, during outcast, when they mention that the tradition of going to the moonstone/pool has fallen out of favour, and maybe that's bad.

and like, yeah, okay: i don't really understand Why it fell out of favour, especially in thunderclan. thunderclan had the Longest journey to the moonstone, and now they have either the shortest journey or one of the shortest, so there's really no excuse, but like. that's diaspora, you lose things, i'm okay with that.

what i'm not okay with is the sudden transformation of the moonpool to a Holy Place only Medicine Cats can touch. like, mothwing has been to the moonstone: she knows this isn't how it was. the others are young enough to not know, but then, when did this idea get started? who put it in their heads? why?

jayfeather has had so much pov, it wouldn't be hard to explain. he could've even taught alderpaw about it. or something could've been slipped into an early shadowpaw chapter. it really would not have taken much: a single line in outcast or something was all i needed to accept the moonstone/pool visitation tradition was dead (even if i think it should've continued), but unless i've forgotten, this is just. never explained.

this is how it Always Was (even though it wasn't, and there are cats who should Know it wasn't).

heck! heck! mistystar shared tongues with starclan in her novella. i don't remember where riverclan was during this scene in tbc, but my point is more. someone should've been able to say something. anything.

probably before the actual scene, given how few cats would know about this: bramblestar should since he was made a warrior in the forest territory, but i'll give the other leaders a pass. all i need is like. one line. from one cat. that's it. that's all i need.

finally, starclan obviously is uhhh. evil? it's evil, right, we can all agree? there is no evil starclan au we're In the evil starclan au, i should write a good starclan au.

the thing about this one is like. it's a product of the others. if starclan wasn't Real and Tangible, then like. then like. it wouldn't matter that they gave shitty advice and did terrible things, because now you just have cats dreaming of others, searching for answers in the Strict Code, and that would all make sense.

(did that paragraph like. read? i can't tell. basically, if starclan wasn't confirmed as a real thing with real dead cats, i would be fine with starclan cats being shitty and ooc, because now it's not actual cats we know and love, it's other cats' perceptions, memories, and inferences of them as they search their ancestors for guidance from the warrior code.

so of course their advice is going to be terrible and inconsistent and leafpool is going to decide spottedleaf said she should have kits and then starclan is going to backflip when the kits are born: all of that makes complete sense as long as starclan isn't an actual place. as long as it's just religion, just dreams and omens, there is no problem with that.)

and then if starclan like. if their role in the clans had been covered more thoroughly by the narrative. if how they gave shitty advice a lot was covered. i would also be okay with it.

but the best we get is mothwing's whole "yo uh. starclan doesn't save cats. i save fucking cats. give me my god damn credit for saving your fucking life." like that's a bad thing no. mothwing. queen. please continue ur so right.

and just as a cherry on top, the ableism in starclan is exhausting. it's its own thing, really, but like. i was talking with @foxstride about this. and like. how disabled cats will just have their disabilities erased.

personally, i'm okay with briarlight not being disabled in starclan. i think that makes sense for her character. i think it is Bad that the narrative's response to that was "now that she's dead she's finally happy again!", it should have been "thunderclan failed to give briarlight the actual support she needed to be happy", but the fact that she's not disabled in starclan doesn't actually bother me.

she was sick basically 100% of the time after her accident, and thunderclan was really shitty to her. do you remember how happy she was to "get" to sleep in the warriors' den? she was a fucking warrior that was her right.

thunderclan failed her, but the takeaway is "she couldn't be happy until she was dead and her disability was magicked away." that's bad. that's. i'm not okay with that part of it.

(briarlight deserves so much better than thunderclan.)

but for pretty much every other instance of it, there's none of that. maybe, maybe, you could make a similar argument for cinderpelt, but i would disagree with it.

my cinderpelt opinion is and always has been: she would never have chosen the path of being a medicine cat for herself, but she ultimately finds happiness and fulfillment with it. like, it wasn't right that she was forced to become a medicine cat because of her accident, but it was something she did ultimately enjoy and was happy to dedicate her life to. if she was given the chance to become a warrior after she had been a medicine cat for a while, she wouldn't have taken it.

it's part of why when i'm doing like. big time aus for warriors i still make her a medicine cat. because i like her growing to love it. i like that it's not right, how it happens, but she still loves it eventually. it's a very interesting idea to me that there aren't many characters to explore it through. jayfeather and alderheart are similar, but not in the same way. anyway i'm rambling because these are all the things i thought about when writing stolag, back on topic.

so i don't think cinderpelt should have her disability poofed by starclan, i think she should keep it. i also think that cats who are injured and then aren't disabiled in starclan should be representitve of that. they should be the age before they got injured.

briarlight should be apprentice aged, a hypo-cinderpelt should also be apprentice aged. this is something i'm fine with. i make hollyleaf apprentice aged in starclan because i think she was happiest before the ending of po3.

moving on: snowkit? can apparently hear? wtf?

and y'all already know how much i hate that jayfeather can see in his dreams. i said No that's Not Canon anymore and no one (no one) can stop me.

in conclusion: starclan is bad in a lot of ways, and if it weren't so damn inconsistently bad, i think i wouldn't hate it half as much.

#ask #essay #starclan #anon #long #mine #txt

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ppangjae · 4 years

Text

made to fall in love | nine

SERIES MASTERLIST

prev | nine | next

SUMMARY. Seoul’s finest 30 under 30. The country’s youngest billionaire. 2019′s richest bachelor. But of all the women he could go after, he goes after… her?

GENRE. fluff and angst | ceo!jaehyun | nerd!reader | enemies to lovers!au | long lost friend!au

WORD COUNT. 2k+ words

warnings. tooth-rotting fluff, swearing, and tons of bickering!

author’s note. we just reached 1000 followers today! thank you so much for 1000! i hope you enjoy this update! happy reading!

NINE. lovestruck • i don’t know what to do whenever i look at you

Two months later…

“I’m sure you’re all aware that the year-end party is near, which is why I called you all here for a meeting.”

You feel a light kick to the ankle from underneath the table. You quirk an eyebrow, your eyes darting across the room to meet Johnny’s gaze. He wiggles his eyebrows at you and a scoff threatens to escape your lips. Standing at the front of the meeting room is Jaehyun, who’s holding a quick presentation about the company’s year-end celebration.

“For the new interns and employees, our year-end celebration is just a formal gathering where we celebrate this year’s achievements and to look forward to the new year ahead of us.” Jaehyun explains as he switches to the PowerPoint slide of the venue. “It’s planned to happen in three weeks, specifically on the twenty-eight of December. I’m sure you all have families to celebrate New Year’s with, and thus, we were strict on having the celebration before that.”

You’ve heard of the year-end celebrations. Long time employees say that the celebration screams money and luxury. The sponsors of the celebration are endless, from Dior to Chanel. It’s all because of the CEO himself, Jeong Jaehyun. But other long time employees say that Jaehyun only sticks around at the celebration until his speech. Right after his speech, Jaehyun is nowhere to be found. They always assume that he’s back in the comfort of his office, working his ass off.

It makes you feel bad for him.

But at the same time, you don’t feel bad. Not a single bit.

“The dress code is formal, as usual.” He explains. “But the theme colour is red and black, just to make things more pleasing to the eye.”

“Red?” You mutter underneath your breath.

Jaehyun turns to glance at you. “Did you say something, Y/N?”

You look up, meeting his gaze. You shake your head. “I didn’t say anything, sir.”

He tilts his head in confusion. “I must be hearing things.”

Johnny lets out a cough. “Clearly.”

“Anyways, that’s pretty much it for this meeting.” Jaehyun finishes off. “Thank you all for coming. It’s getting pretty late. Actually, on your way out, please make sure you note that you were asked to stay overtime because of me. I don’t want human resources coming for my ass.”

The employees erupt into giggles and whispers. You’re beginning to pack your things. Johnny is too busy sending a text on his phone. Jaehyun clears his throat. “You may leave now.”

As they’re all scurrying to leave the room, you hear your name being called when you’re slowly getting up from your seat. You glance at Jaehyun, who’s turning off his laptop. “Yes, sir?”

“I’ll bring the car to the front. You can just wait for me there.”

You raise an eyebrow. “But I’m taking the bus—”

“Y/N, I’ve been driving you home for two months now. Driving you home today isn’t any different from driving you home last night.” He cuts you off.

“Actually, there is one difference.”

He looks at you. “And now what would that be?”

“It’s been two months since we last saw Jia and heard of her. I’m sure she’s already minding her own business. I think it’s safe to say that I’m ready to be on my own now. I don’t think I’m at risk.” You explain, throwing your bag over your shoulder. “Even the press and paparazzi are tired of chasing her down. I think I’ll be okay with taking the bus from now on.”

“How are you so sure that you’ll be safe?” He questions.

“I am a strong, independent woman. I can take care of myself—”

“Have you eaten dinner yet?”

You point at him. “Now that, I haven’t. Besides, I can grab dinner on my way home—”

“Or you can grab dinner with me.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I’ll drive you home too.”

“I don’t want to bother you—”

“You don’t want to join me for dinner? You don’t want another free ride home?” He frowns. “You must hate me or something, don’t you—”

“I don’t hate you—”

“Then grab dinner with me. It won’t hurt. Besides, if you hate me so much, we don’t even have to talk while having dinner together.” He reassures you. “In fact, we can sit at different tables. But I’ll still pay for your meal.”

“Since you’re so persistent on letting me grab dinner with you, then fine.” You let out a defeated sigh. “I’ll wait for you at the front of the building, sir.”

You surely hate him.

He pulls up at a five-star restaurant that claims to have the most expensive menu in the city. It was your suggestion. But as he gets out of the car, he’s slowly starting to regret trying to impress you. You hop out of the car with a smug grin spread across your lips.

“You must be really hungry, huh?” He mutters underneath his breath.

“I’m starving.” You grin, making your way into the restaurant.

Just as Jaehyun is following you into the restaurant, there’s something that catches his eye. He glances at you to make sure you didn’t notice the sign put up in front of the restaurant.

“For how many?”

Jaehyun clears his throat. “For two, please.”

As the waitress is bringing the two of you to your seats, you can’t help but break out into a wide smile. You love pushing Jaehyun’s buttons. He was so persistent in taking you out for dinner just to give you a ride home. Since he said so, you decided that going to a five-star restaurant is the best bet. You can’t seem to erase the look of disbelief on Jaehyun’s face the moment you both arrived.

As you’re both looking through the menu, Jaehyun can tell that you’re probably looking for the most expensive dish on the menu. He feels himself start to sweat.

“What can I get for the lovely couple?”

You almost choke on air. “Sorry, we’re not—”

“I’ll have the lamb steak,” Jaehyun cuts you off. “Could I also get two glasses of red wine for the both of us?”

“One lamb steak and two glasses of red wine,” the waitress says as she jots down the order.

Jaehyun nods his head at you. “What are you getting?”

You snap out of it and close the menu. “I’ll have what he’s having as well.”

The waitress is staring at the both of you with an amused look while grabbing both of your menus. Jaehyun folds his arms, picking up his glass of water to take a quick sip. You clear your throat, looking out the window to distract yourself.

“Is there a reason why you hate me so much?”

You scoff. “I don’t hate you—”

“You sure do.”

“I don’t—”

“You do.” He looks at you seriously. “You’re a bad liar.”

“In my defense, you’re a bad liar too.” You shrug your shoulders. “Or should I say, a bad actor.”

“Look—”

“But it’s fine. We can play pretend for as long as you want.” You cut him off. “Since you’re pretending as if you don’t know me, then I’ll do the same. This shouldn’t be a one-way thing, don’t you think so?”

He avoids your gaze. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

You smile. It doesn’t reach your ears. “Clearly.”

A couple of minutes later, the waitress arrives with your food. Jaehyun can’t help but watch you eat. You weren’t lying when you said you were starving. You’re practically inhaling the food. He finds himself smiling.

“Stop staring at me.”

“I’m not staring—”

You look at him. “You are. Stop staring. It’s making me uncomfortable. I want to eat in peace.”

He smirks. “And you said that you were going to grab dinner on your way home.”

“And so?” You raise an eyebrow. “It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity to be eating at a five-star restaurant with the CEO of Jung Architects. It’s not an opportunity you should pass up.”

“Do you feel like you achieved something out of this?” He asks.

You nod your head. “Yes.”

“And what would that be?”

“A free dinner.” You shrug your shoulders. “Oh! A free ride home, too.”

“Would you like me to remind you how you were completely against the idea of having dinner with me and allowing me to drive you home?” He tests you.

You grab your glass of wine to take a small sip. You bite your lip. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, sir. I suddenly don’t remember anything.”

“Well, I hope you’re ready for my revenge.”

You look at him questioningly. “Revenge?”

“Sir, what are you doing?”

At the end of your dinner, Jaehyun gets up from his seat to bend down on one knee. He’s pulling out a fake diamond ring from his pocket and extending it out to you. You’re looking at him bewilderedly, trying to pull him back onto his feet.

“Y/N, I know we’ve been together for six years. Those six years have been the happiest years of my life and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” He has a shit-eating grin spread across his lips. “Will you marry me, Y/N?”

The couples and families sitting near you are getting all of it on their phones. You can’t help but feel embarrassed. Is this the revenge he was talking about?

“Sir, we aren’t dating. What are you doing?”

He lets out a fake cough. “Just say yes.”

“What? Why would I do that? What are you doing?” You hiss.

“I forgot my wallet at the office and I saw a sign outside saying that newly-engaged couples get their dinner for free.” He says in one breath.

“What? I didn’t catch a single word you just said.”

“Just say yes.”

You look around to see the waitress walking to your table with the bill in her hands. Your eyes slightly widen and you cover your fake gasp with your hands. The waitress stops in her tracks when she sees Jaehyun proposing to you.

“Yes!” You exclaim. “I’ll marry you!”

The waitress finally reaches your table when Jaehyun pulls you into a hug. You’re patting his back a bit too aggressively. You lean into his ear to whisper. “I’m going to kill you for this, sir.”

“Congratulations to the newly-engaged couple!” The waitress exclaims and everyone seated around you starts clapping. The waitress turns to Jaehyun when you both pull away from your hug. “Luckily for you, we have a promotion going on where newly-engaged couples have their dinner on us. I don’t think you’ll need the bill, sir. Your dinner is free.”

“Oh!” Jaehyun smiles. “That’s perfect! Thank you so much!”

“Congratulations.”

You’re too embarrassed to utter a word. As you and Jaehyun are leaving the restaurant, he stretches out his arms and lets out a sigh. You look at him with a death glare. He feels intimidated by your stare.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You owe me an explanation.”

He lets out a nervous laugh. “I don’t think I do. Hey, do you want to go grab some ice cream before I drive you home?”

You fold your arms. “I thought you left your wallet in your office—”

You stop mid-sentence when he pulls out his wallet from his pocket. He’s waving it in your face before bursting out into laughter. “My wallet? What kind of CEO would leave his wallet in his office? What do you take me for, Y/N?”

Is he really the CEO of Jung Architects?

BREAKING NEWS: Jeong Jaehyun of Jung Architects recently seen proposing to what sources say, a woman he’s dated for six years, at a five-star restaurant

“When’s their year-end party, again?”

Jia shoves a handful of chips into her mouth. “The twenty-eighth of December.”

“I think that’s enough time for everything to pull through perfectly as planned.” Wooyoung says before letting out a scoff. “And since when did he have the time to date?”

Jia shrugs her shoulders. “I wouldn’t have been surprised if the press suddenly revealed that he was married this entire time.”

“Are you disappointed that the woman’s not you?”

Jia sighs.

“Just a little.”

author’s note. i hope you liked this update! we’re almost reaching the second interlude! jkfhsdkjfhdsf

tag list (if you want to be a part of the list, please send me an ask!):

@riverdale-kpop @cupofjae @jae-canikeepyou @crystxlkpop @befikel @justineasian @frankenstein852 @mymonbebecarat127heart @hoshitaro @ilymarkchan @hyluvjk @fantasircle @yourchasingsunsetslove @jae-bam @starryhyun @kriselynne @jaeismytamtation @etaerealboy @irrelevxntstxr @johnnyseosabs @jaeveil @doublepeace @jaehyunie77 @nshitae @ijustwantsummilk @crtznstuff @linnnnduhhhnctlove @airloe @princessaecha @jimjamjaemin @linansey @eileencacai @loviejaehyun @leesalts

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yyxgin · 4 years

Text

eternity is a sandcastle

-> pairing: min yoongi x reader

-> genre: angst, break-up au

-> words: 2k

-> warnings: break-up, a slight argument, a lot of angsty thoughts and internal monologue, my own view of love that was portraied to me by my parents cough cough thanks mum and dad, i gave it a happy-ish?? ending tho

— if this is this kind of nightmare, I won’t ever wake up

Your cold cup of coffee is the only thing accompanying your late morning, your gaze pinned into the half-empty porcelain, wondering when and why this exactly went wrong.

But staring into your coffee will never really bring you the answers, will it?

You see your boyfriend approaching the kitchen, like a slow cat just woken up from a slumber, getting a cup on his own and pouring some cold americano into it, drinking it on one go and quickly escaping the room, not even bothering to say good morning.

You should have expected this, really. But it still hurts the same, even though you see it coming.

Love gets taken for granted. Love feels ordinary after some time, love gets boring, like it’s a thing that will always be there no matter what you do. Min Yoongi knows you’ll always be there. He knows you love him and it’s simple, it’s given. And there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s just that you don’t feel like living knowing that your love gets taken for a commodity, that it became banal, just an everyday thing that is just there and nobody has to work for it.

Min Yoongi loves you. At least, that’s how it always have been. Min Yoongi loves you and you love Min Yoongi with everything that is in you.

You get used to it quickly.

Yoongi got used to it quickly.

Just three years ago, you were a happy couple. You went on dates every other week, told each other you loved one another, complimented each other on the most common, but yet still so beautiful things. Everything was amazing. Your relationship was just starting and blooming like the beatiful flowers he gave you every other day, like the butterflies that flew around your stomach in happy formations every moment you’ve spent with him.

Two years ago, you were still a happy couple. You decided to live together. That alone brought you moments of unconditional love, just watching your loved one washing the dishes or cooking breakfast to bed for you. Cleaning together was fun. Everything used to be fun. You celebrated your anniversery together with cheap wine and your chill spotify playlist playing in the background, giggling at old memories you still so deepy cherished inside of your head.

Six months ago, it started changing. Yoongi started staying late in the studio. You saw him less and less. He never expected you to get angry with him for not taking care of himself. He never expected you to disagree with him in many ways, like how to organise your socks in the drawer and wheter you need to paint the walls or if it can wait to the next year.

Yoongi never expected you to have different opinion. He never expected you to show him that you are not just something he can always count on, because even though it was true and you were always there for him in his darkest of times, you weren’t there just to be his companion, you were there to be a person he loved.

And he didn’t show you that quite enough.

There were no roses. No dates. No laughs. No movie nights spent together, because even that caused pointless arguments over what to watch in the TV. There was no fun. No spark.

And everyting was just because you two quickly got used to your love for another. And love is never something you want to get used to.

You need to take love as a wonderful emotion you’re lucky to feel. As a miracle. You need to cherish it and mold it, try to grow in love with the person you hold it for. You can’t just take love for granted. Because one day, the love you expect to be there, because you’re so used to it already, won’t be there to hold you when you’re down.

Because when you needed the dates, the love and the laughs, he just expcted you to be fine without them.

— eternity is a sandcastle

Min Yoongi lived his whole life with the image that love is forever. That once you find a person that completes you, loves you as your whole and never wants to lose you, they will stay with you forever. For eternity.

That’s what he thought.

“Yoongi, you don’t understand.” you mumble, not even sounding angry anymore, just plain tired.

“What am I supposed to understand? Don’t you care about me anymore?” he furrows his brows, very much confused about your sudden confession.

“That’s the whole point, Yoongi. I care about you too much,” you sigh, your gaze soft, but holding all the emotions he never expected you to hold in your eyes, feeling like a thunderstorm is going on inside of him at the sight of you, “that’s why we’re having this conversation.”

“What do you want from me?” he asks, taking a seat.

“I want you to stop treating me like a certainity.” you say into the quiet room, watching his expression change.

“I am not..”

“Yes you are, Yoongi. I am always here for you, right? I cook for you, I wash for you, I clean for you, I am here in the evening when you come home from work. And I don’t ask for anything in return, I really don’t, but you know, just a thank you from time to time could be enough to make me feel like I’m wanted, and not just needed.” you explain, wanting to see some reasoning in the conversation.

“But you know I love you, so where’s the point?”

“Do I really, though? How can I even know? You always come home late. You don’t even say good morning to me when you wake up anymore. We don’t talk like we used to. We don’t go on dates, you don’t even kiss me when you go, there’s no reason for me to know if you still love me or not.” your calm, but pained expression makes him furrow his brows.

“Is this about dates? You want to go on dates? Recieve gifts?” laughs Yoongi, as if the conversation was amusing in a way.

“No, Yoongi, I need you to show me that you care. That you just didn’t get used to all of this, that you don’t take me for granted,” you throw your hands in the air, expecting your significant other to undertsand you just this once.

“And dates is how I need to do it? Y/n, I’m a busy man, I don’t have time for that anymore…”

“You don’t have time for me, yeah?” you point out, defeated.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know that.”

“But that’s how it feels.”

And today, Min Yoongi learned that the forever he had in you, the certainity, the so ordinary love he’s always had by his side, is like a sandcastle.

Perhaps he was the sea that crumbled the dusts of sand that held it up all together.

— meet me in that memory that was once beautiful

Yoongi was the sea. And you were the shore.

You were the grounding point for him. You were the person he cherished the most, you were his source of hapiness he so stupidly took for granted all this time.

The memories he has with you pain him in a way. The time you danced around together in the beach as the sun set, the time you had a snow fight in the winter in his parent’s back yard, the time he got you breakfast in bed for the first time while living together. These moments are the ones he needed to cherish, yet he learned that just when he realised that he’ll never make another one of these with you.

Because you left for better things.

Perhaps to teach him a lesson.

But that’s okay, because that’s what love is supposed to do anyways.

He knows you have a new job. And he knows you don’t expect him to come for a visit there. There is no secret in the fact that you turned to erase him from your life all together, taking all your things with you in a course of a week and finding yourself a new job, cutting him off and everything that ever tied you to the man.

You did it so you could grow.

But he knows that he can never really stay away from you.

So when he sees your shocked face behind the counter of the coffee shop for the first time in weeks, his heart thumps just like when he asked you on a date for the first time, reminding him of the love that never dissapeared from his heart.

“Hi.” he greets you, trying to sound casual.

“Hello. What would you like to order?” you ask, pretending to be unbothered by his presence. He was a stranger to you. Just a customer.

“Um… one iced americano, please.” he responds, scratching the back of his neck, suddenly flustered by your cold exterior. Of course you know he’d order this. You still know him like the back of your own hand.

“I’ll be right back.” you nod, turning to make his coffee for him. Just like the old times. It’s almost funny, how it was always you doing things for him, and rarely the other way around. Even after your break-up, nothing really changed, it seems.

Once you have his order ready and hand it to him with a bored look on your face, asking for 5 dollars for your work, he picks up the little courage he has left in him, looking into your face and asking you the thing he came here for in the first place.

“Can we please talk?”

Your expression doesn’t change as you answer his request. “I am working.”

“And after you close?” he bites down on his bottom lip, desperately needing to have you back beside him, like the old times.

“Nothing really changed, huh?” you scoff, “It’s still just you asking me to do exactly what you want, expecting me to always be there when you want.” you reply.

“I- it’s not like that, y/n-”

“Goodbye,” you say, looking at the next customer, bringing a cheerful expression onto your beatiful face, “Hello, what is your order?”

Yoongi sighs deeply as he exits the coffee shop, a deep frown plastered onto his face. He was defeated for the first time. Rejected.

He doesn’t know you’re watching him from the window. He doesn’t need to know.

As he sips on his americano, done just the way he likes it, he decides to come back tomorrow. To not give up on his fight. He didn’t even expect it to be so easy in the first place. That would be silly, wouldn’t it?

He takes the empty plastic cup with him, placing it on his desk, deciding to keep every single one until he wins you back again. He will come back every single day, if it meant for you to trust him again. He will bring you flowers, like the old times. Give you attention. Ask you on dates. It will be slow, but he will get there. Because if you’ve taught him something, it’s to grow. And to be a better person.

And just like he is the sea that washed away your sand castle, he is the sea that always comes back to kiss the shore.

He stares onto the grey walls you painted together last year, desperate to keep his promise.

He won’t ever take you for granted again.

Tomorrow, he will come back. To win his forever. To win his love. To work on it.

Because that’s all you asked him for in the first place.

Will you build the sandcastle together again?

#btswritingcafe #kafenetwork #bts imagine #bts angst #bts au #bts scenario #bts fic #bts fanfiction #bts reaction #bts fanfic #bts drabble #yoongi imagine #yoongi angst #yoongi au #yoongi scenario #yoongi drabble

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hermannsthumb · 4 years

Note

"newt isn’t sleazy and is also too busy wrestling with the ethics of hitting on his hot TA if the guy is 5 months older than him to even notice" pleeeease write this

Anonymous asked: "When I Kissed the Teacher" AU ft professor newt and his hot 5-month-older TA hermann

and coincidentally, this older one

Anonymous asked: i just rewatched mamma mia 2 and was wondering if i could request a "when i kissed the teacher" newmann fic?? love your writing!!!!!!

Ask And Ye Shall Receive. sorry ive been MIA 😔 concept from this post I made earlier this month. idk what class newt teaches that hermann would be qualified to TA for but just like, decide for yourselves

---------------------

Newt’s never been a list-making kind of guy, or--for that matter--even really a planning ahead kind of guy, but certain circumstances have thrown his life more out of wack than usual lately, and he kind of needs the stability the like of things like lists offer. Desperate times and everything. Or, at the very least, Newt is desperate.

So Newt plans, and plots, and deliberates, and he even agonizes a little, but most of all, he makes a list.

On one half of the page, he writes pros. On the other, he writes cons. On top, he writes--what else?--Hermann.

The problem started in late August. Newt knew for months he was going to be assigned a teaching assistant come that semester--it was him, after all, who’d suggested it to the dean in the first place--but the Hermann Gottlieb of extensive, impressive, overachieving CV and overly-former cover letter was a far cry from Hermann Gottlieb in the flesh. Newt expected a dork, frankly. Someone too socially awkward to feel brave enough to thank someone for holding a door open for him. He expected a PhD student so eager to please he’d cater to Newt’s every whim, whether it was grading horrendous freshman lab reports or fetching him a sandwich from the commissary between class sections.

They met for the first time at the campus coffee shop. Hermann was dressed in an oversized pair of slacks, a threadbare green sweatervest, and honest-to-God saddle shoes; the buttons of his Oxford were done up all the way, from the collar to the cuffs, and an ornate cane was settled against his thigh. His haircut was tragic. “Dr. Geiszler,” he said, all clipped and English, and held his hand out to Newt. “Hermann Gottlieb. It is a great pleasure to meet you. I’m an admirer of your work.”

"Sup,” Newt said, and tried to bump their fists together.

Newt knew he was in deep shit then. It wasn’t just because Hermann was gorgeous (which he was, in a sort of weird, frumpy, ripped-outta-1945 way), or that the scowl he proceeded to level Newt with made his soul wither and his heart race a little bit too fast, but both of those things in conjunction with a big one: Newt was, and is, so fucking love-starved. It’s an unfortunate byproduct of being made a professor when he was as young as he was and completing a PhD before he completed puberty. His early twenties should’ve been spent dyeing his hair terrible colors and adding to his already impressive tattoo collection and having questionable hookups with other young twentysomethings; unfortunately, the only young twentysomethings Newt ever seems to come across are his students, and he has a very strict code of ethics. Not to mention it wasn’t like he was getting any action before that as a weird, gangly teenager with peers several years his senior. He was bound to latch onto the first genius hottie who crossed his path who wasn’t trying to flirt their way into bumping that B- to a B+. And better yet, Hermann is five whole months his senior!

The shit only got deeper when the semester started. No, Hermann was not the sort to fetch Newt sandwiches, or coffee, or Aspirin from his office, nor was he the sort to handle the dreaded lab reports (at least not unless Newt handled them with him), and he definitely wasn’t eager to please. Newt, anyway. If anything the opposite was true: he seemed to actively derive enjoyment from undermining Newt at every turn.

“Wrong,” he’d mutter during class if Newt screwed something up in a lecture, or “No, Geiszler, you’re doing it wrong again,” or “How in the blazes did you get three bloody PhDs when you can’t even do simple addition?” and snatch Newt’s dry erase marker away to scrawl his own answers on the whiteboard. It was less like having a TA and more like having...well, a bitchy, annoying co-teacher. Or, God help Newt, a colleague. And boy, did he wave those five months over Newt’s head like a fucking flag. Newt was immature; inexperienced; clearly not as serious about his studies--his completed studies--as Hermann. Meanwhile Newt’s class (bright young twenty somethings, taller than Newt, cooler than Newt, with more friends than Newt) would giggle and snicker, and Hermann would look smug.

It drove Newt fucking batty.

It also made him, like, super turned on.

The two can co-exist. Apparently. Hermann Gottlieb is already helping Newt discover new and existing concepts; what a fucking excellent TA he is. Someone give that man a raise.

So Newt draws up a list, and he writes Pros, and he writes Cons, and he writes Hermann. The pros are regrettably easy to come up with, because Hermann is Hermann, and (bitchiness and undermining of Newt aside) it’s unfair how many he has. Hot. Stupid sexy accent. Stupidly smart. This is crossed out and replaced with so smart he makes me feel stupid (in a good way), because it seems like an important distinction. Glasses on chain. Mysterious. (In a tall, dark, and handsome way. Sort of. Average height--which is tall to Newt, pale, and handsome. He still scowls more than he talks, which makes him feel mysterious. In a Bronte sort of way. Newt can picture Hermann drawing a billowing cloak around his shoulders and stalking some desolate moor in the moonlight, though in this case maybe’s more of a puffy parka than a cloak.) In tiniest font of all is makes me laugh, because Hermann does, goddamn it, with his snide asides and cutting remarks and sarcasm, often not even directed at Newt when it’s just the two of them alone in Newt’s office at night.

The placement of “is my TA” on the chart is acting as a particular annoyance to Newt, entirely on account of the fact that he can think of several pros and cons for that as well, and he’s not sure whether to nestle it between dark eyelashes and once called me a moron in front of my class and I got a hard-on or beneath sweaters smell like sweat and mothballs, has annoying tic of clearing throat when lost in thought, and the dick wins 86% of our arguments. Sexy forbidden fling. Abuse of power. Is older than me so it's not as weird as it could be? I’m his boss. The school’s paying Hermann though, not Newt, and it’s not like he’s going to scurry off to the dean and demand Hermann’s funding slashed if Hermann turns him down (which he’d most likely do). But it still feels like a breach of ethics.

On the other hand, Hermann is exactly the sort of guy he’d try to pick up at a bar if he still did things like that. (Tenure, rather than giving Newt breathing space to kick back and relax a little, has only increased his obsession with his work, and now when he gets a Friday night free to himself he mostly switches crap on the TV and falls asleep with his cat on the couch.) It’s about the experience, the impossible task of seducing someone who--by all accounts--is too straight-laced and tight-buttoned to indulge in something that debase. They were always the best in bed. Tension, Newt knows, has to snap at some point.

He’d like to wrap Hermann’s personal piano wire around his thumb and bang away at the keys until it snaps, too. Ethics, Newt thinks (folding up the list and stuffing it out of sight), his ass.

Newt sacrifices a Friday night with his cat and Unsolved Mysteries in favor of working on a solution to his Hermann Problem. Swamped with work, he tells Hermann over the phone, it fucking sucks, dude, I could really use your help in my office, and Hermann grumbles, and snaps that Newt should learn to be better prepared for his own damn classes, but declares he’ll be on campus in half an hour and that Newt will be ordering him takeaway for dinner as an apology.

The door swings open at half past five. Hermann is bundled in that heavy parka and scarf (which, even for a Boston November, still looks a little too warm), and his hair is damp. “Is it raining?” Newt says, perhaps stupidly, because there’s not a single droplet of water anywhere else on Hermann’s body.

Hermann makes a face at him and pushes the door shut with his cane. “No,” he says, tersely.

“Then why...” Newt touches his own hair.

“I was taking a bloody bath,” Hermann snaps. “I don’t work on Fridays, as you well know, Newton.”

The use of his full first name stings Newt oddly even as the notion of Hermann luxuriating in a bathtub excites him. “That’s Dr. Geiszler,” Newt snaps back, because goddamn it, he’s Hermann’s boss, he deserves respect, and then mentally adds a small, depressing tally to the Cons half of the board. Ethics, ethics.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, Dr. Geiszler,” Hermann says. He throws his scarf and coat viciously at the small couch in the corner of Newt’s office, then takes his usual seat across from Newt. “Well? Where are those papers it’s so crucial we grade?”

Hermann in a bathtub, Newt thinks. Hermann naked. Papers, Newt thinks. “Papers,” Newt says, and he shoves a stack at Hermann with twice as much force as he means to, causing several to flutter to the ground. “We need...to grade them,” he says. Hermann naked, in a bathtub, maybe some candles lit around him, some nice music on, daydreaming about that wretched professor he works for. Damn it. “I have a pen,” he says. “To grade.”

“What on earth are you saying?” Hermann says. “Be quiet. I can’t concentrate with your abominable prattling on.” Then he mumbles something that sounds like incessant, rips the top paper off the stack, and begins to slash at it in red ink. He doesn’t bother gathering the two from the ground.

Why did Newt invite him here, again?

Oh, right. He pushes his glasses up his nose and feigns casualness, pulling out another paper for himself to grade. “A bath,” he says. “Just to, uh, relax? Or...?”

Hermann narrows his eyes. “Or?”

Newt shrugs. “It’s Friday. Were you getting ready for a date or something?”

This time, Hermann’s mouth twists down into a frown. Almost suspicious. “Why do you care?” he says.

“I don’t,” Newt says quickly. “Just making small talk.” God, he could picture some stud of a computer science PhD candidate winning Hermann over with techno babble--or maybe one of his fellow students, ugh, maybe they made a study group together that meets Friday nights, and Hermann was getting all gussied up, goddamn handsome astrophysics grad students--

“I was relaxing,” Hermann says. “You must be aware at this point you cause me a great deal of stress, Dr. Geiszler, on a daily basis.”

“Oh,” Newt says.

He gives up on the small talk after that. Hermann’s promised takeout arrives--a small carton of pad thai--as does Newt’s--a large carton of the spiciest thing they had on the menu--and they eat in silence. They have about three-quarters of the papers to go when Hermann suddenly sits back in his seat with a groan and rubs at his eyes under his granny glasses. “Bugger,” he says. “I can’t fathom this one for the life of me. I’m too tired.”

“It’s getting kinda late,” Newt agrees. “Maybe we should--”

“It’s not that,” Hermann says. “I had a glass of wine earlier, and--oh, it doesn’t matter. Your students need to learn how to write in a way that’s actually bloody legible--it’s like chicken scratch.”

Newt hops up and leans over his shoulder, squinting down at the page. Hermann’s hair smells nice, like something floral, and his skin has a small hint of what could almost be cologne. Why is Hermann wearing cologne? “Okay, let me see it,” Newt says, struggling to keep from getting lightheaded at the close proximity to Hermann. “I’m used to that kind of shit.”

“No,” Hermann says, drawing the paper close to his chest. “I am perfectly capable of managing it on my own.”

“Dude,” Newt says, “let me look at it, seriously. Hermann--”

He manages to tug it away from him. The handwriting is pretty bad, but the math seems to be worse. “Didn’t they do the readings?” Newt mutters under his breath. “That’s not even the right equation for the diameter. I gave them a cheat sheet, man.” They’re junior year engineering students--they should know this shit.

“I know what the equation is,” Hermann snaps. “I can grade it on my own. Give it back.”

“I didn’t say you didn’t know,” Newt says, “I said this kid--”

“It’s the radius squared--”

“Hermann, dude,” Newt says, “I know you’re--”

And that’s when Hermann grabs him by his skinny tie and kisses him, hard.

They stare at each other afterwards. Hermann’s eyes are as wide as saucers; his mouth is hanging open. Newt’s tie slips from his fingers, which then fall limp to his lap. “Holy shit,” Newt squeaks.

Hermann is gone with a swish of his parka and a loud clack of his cane. And with a stack of papers Newt still has to somehow get through. Figures.

Their next few classes together are subdued. Hermann doesn’t interject any of his biting commentary or corrections, or even offer critiques of Newt’s lack of professionalism (when in the past his skinny jeans were such an easy target), and when the period is over, he practically sprints from the classroom before he and Newt can be alone together for even a second. It’s fine by Newt. Whatever. Maybe Hermann can get over it over Thanksgiving break, and Newt can try to get over the memory of Hermann’s strong fingers tugging him down, Hermann’s floral shampoo, Hermann’s chapped, wide lips against his, the little grunt of shock Hermann made as he did it, like he couldn’t believe his own audacity...

It’s not likely.

It’s December, the last week before finals, and Newt’s in his office bundled up in a sweatshirt (because the heat never seems to fucking work in here), revising a draft of an exam, and dreading the thought of trudging home in the snow, when there’s suddenly a knock at his door. Anticipating some overeager freshman here outside of office hours, he doesn’t look up as he says “Come in.”

A familiar clearing of a throat.

Newt shoots straight up to his feet. He knocks a mug of coffee to the floor in the process. “Hermann,” he says. “Uh. Hi. What--what are you doing here?”

Hermann shuts the door behind him, then takes a careful step forward. He’s back in his big dumb coat and big long scarf. “I thought I ought to tell you myself first,” he says, primly. “I’ve submitted a request to the dean to be reassigned to another professor next semester. Our research interests are far more in line, and I don’t imagine our personalities shall clash as much.”

“Oh,” Newt says, pretending his heart isn't sinking in his chest like a hunk of lead. Was he that bad of a kisser? He feels like he deserves a second shot at it--he wasn’t ready last time, you know, he bets he’d really wow Hermann if he had a fair heads up. “Are.. are those the only reasons why?”

“No,” Hermann admits. “They’re not.”

He crosses the room, and corners Newt against his desk before Newt even realizes what’s happening. “They’re not,” he says again, then adds in a murmur (lifting one hand to brush his fingers against Newt’s hair), “Dr. Geiszler.”

Neither of them talk much, after that.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #thxstral

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v-hope · 5 years

Text

Absolute

Pairing: Jeon Jeongguk x Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, College!AU, Fuck-buddies to Lovers, Fuckboy!Jeongguk, Tutor!Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Request by @asiivnc: “Hi, can I request a one shot? Can you do it based on Ariana Grande’s song Boyfriend for Jungkook?”

Summary: After arguing over the status of your relationship and having a bit of a fall out, Jeongguk and you find out you don’t quite like the idea of each other being with someone else. Nevertheless, with the two of you not being precisely a couple, things might get a little too complicated.

A/N: I don’t know if my interpretation of the song is what you had in mind, but hopefully you’ll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you so much for requesting this, and I hope the rest of you guys like it, too 💞

Jeongguk was fuming.

The second he had entered the coffee shop and his eyes landed on one of the tables by the windows, finding you comfortably talking to the smarter guy of your promotion, he felt like going up there, grab you by your wrist, and drag you out of there with him.

But he could not.

And his desires were not only prevented by the fact of him knowing you would not ever look his way again if he did such thing to you, but also by his mind suddenly remembering he had not gone over there alone — the sweet voice next to him asking if he was alright, managing to draw his glaring eyes from you to the girl he had arrived with.

However, that was as much attention as said girl got from him that evening, for no matter how hard Jeongguk tried, his eyes kept fixing on you every two seconds, since he had strategically chosen a seat facing your table — torturing himself with the way you would smile ever so brightly time after time to your classmate, just like it made his heart skip a beat every single time it was directed to him.

And although his heart felt uneasy and his knuckles turned white with every smile of yours, he couldn’t bring himself to stop looking; not when the guy you were with could make a move at any given time.

It was almost two minutes later, when who felt like his new rival did indeed lean over the table to take a better look at what you were pointing to on your notebook, that Jeongguk had enough. So, not really giving it a second thought, he excused himself from the girl in front and made his way over to you.

Your eyes focused on him before he could even clear his throat to catch your attention, and he hated the way your smile had disappeared in a heartbeat. It was fair to say, neither you nor your companion were very happy to see him standing there.

“Yes?” the cold tone of your voice was enough for him to feel like turning around and never look back.

Instead of acting on his instincts, he stared at the table for a second before he awkwardly pointed towards it. “Can I borrow a napkin?”

Your eyebrows raised in such manner he couldn’t tell if you were amused or annoyed; maybe a mixture of them both. “I think you’re supposed to ask the staff for that kind of stuff, but sure”.

Without another word, he nodded his head before he took one in his hands. However, before he could leave your side completely defeated, he stared down to the person he thought you were on a date with, and before he could even think about it, his mouth was opening, much to your annoyance, once again to say something else.

“Hi, I’m Jeongguk” he introduced himself to the guy sitting in front of you, who tried his best not to feel bummed by Guk’s presence.

“Jaehyuk” he greeted with a small bow, which ended up looking more like a nod that was immediately reciprocated by Jeongguk just the same.

Not like they didn’t already know each other and their intentions with you, but seeming intimidating right then was apparently a very necessary thing to do.

“So you need help with your classes as well?” he pushed it regardless of the glare you were giving him. He knew for a fact Jaehyuk did not need your help at all, and he was not having it. “She’s been tutoring me for a while now, too”.

“Not really tutoring me…” Jae decided to answer him — his eyes travelling from Guk to you, and giving you a small smile that made Jeongguk’s stomach turn. “It’s more like, we’re teaching each other”.

You were not the two top students for nothing anyway; and to say that bothered Jeongguk was an understatement, because knowing there was someone just as smart as you, someone who overall was a way better choice for you, wanting to win your heart as well, made him feel a subtle pain in his chest he could not explain.

Nevertheless, he was not about to portray that for you to notice. No. Instead, what he did was curve up the corners of his lips in a smile, and a pretty cocky one at that.

“Oh, yeah” he was full on smirking by now, resting his palms near the edge of the round table and leaning over to your side. “I’ve taught her one or two things as well, but we haven’t really needed books for that. Right, baby girl?”

You felt your heart jump at his words, immediately feeling the heat go up to your face as a nerve-racking silence took over the table, yet being fast enough to cover it up with a cold glare directed his way.

“Well, now that you’ve so unnecessarily established that” his smile only grew bigger at how beautifully mad you looked right then, “I think you should go back to your date, I’m sure she’d love for the Jeon Jeongguk to show her what you’ve done to half of campus by now”.

That alone was enough for his smile to be erased, and not exactly because he had been reminded of the girl he had so inconsiderately abandoned a few minutes ago or because of your harsh words by the end of your statement, but because you knew. You knew he had gone there with someone else although he could’ve sworn you hadn’t seen them sitting a few meters away from you. And, for some reason, seeing your eyes slightly soften, looking almost hurt as such words left your mouth, hurt him just as much as seeing you with someone else.

It was stupid, he thought while he walked back to his seat; you had fought almost a week ago precisely because you couldn’t come to terms about your relationship and its dynamics, and yet here you were a couple of days later, hurting at the sight of each other with different people.

You were more than acquaintances, yet you wouldn’t call yourselves friends. You were more than fuck-buddies, yet you wouldn’t call yourselves a couple. You did not sleep with other people but each other, yet you wouldn’t call yourselves exclusive.

You had crystal clear feelings for one another, yet you wouldn’t admit them.

It was stupid. Absolutely stupid.

And he was not the only one to believe so, for you were left not being able to focus on your studies anymore; instead drowning in your thoughts and the faint pressure you’d feel in your chest whenever you either thought about Jeongguk with someone who was not you, or your eyes were drawn towards the table he and the girl he had arrived with where sitting at.

Maybe if you hadn’t been so submerged in your own self-pity, you would’ve noticed he was not really paying attention to his date, but to his phone under the table — only noticing when your mobile buzzed with an incoming text, causing your heart to skip a beat at the sight of his name on your screen.

Guk-ah [20:07]: I’m taking you home

Giving Jaehyuk a quick glance and internally thanking the fact that he was too focused reading one of the papers to even notice you were doing something else, you rushed to unlock it so you could type an answer.

You [20:08]: Shouldn’t you be taking your girl home?

You knew you were sounding petty as hell, but, in all honesty, you couldn’t care any less by then.

After hitting send, your eyes moved up to see if he had received it, catching the exact moment he was already determinedly typing on his phone.

Guk-ah [20:08]: That’s what I’m doing Guk-ah [20:08]: Now come here, we need to talk

Simple as that, that’s how you ended up a little under ten minutes later inside Jeongguk’s car, not even feeling like complaining when you realised he had taken the long way home, the one he knew by heart now — instead absently staring out the window as the atmosphere was filled with nothing but silence.

“I can’t believe you left her all alone in there” you spoke after what felt like forever, not really feeling like making small talk yet not being able to take another single second of the overwhelming silence.

“She said it was okay” he replied plainly, not taking his eyes away from the road.

“It was not” you denied, sitting up straight so you could take a better look at him and his tensed factions. “She’s probably going to badmouth you with her friends later”.

“Then so be it” he snapped, fixing his piercing stare on you for a second before he focused it back on the rather dark streets. “I couldn’t stand another second of you with that guy on your stupid date”.

“We were studying, it was not a date”.

“Oh, so the guy who’s at the top of our class and who, may I add, has been after you for months now, suddenly needs help with his subjects?” a loud scoff abandoned his mouth, letting you know perfectly enough just how much he was not having it. “And then he takes you to a coffee shop to ‘study’ and you’re trying to tell me it was not a date?”

“Exactly”.

He scoffed once again, shaking his head in both disbelief and indignation at either how oblivious you were or just how you were so blatantly lying to his face.

Poking his tongue against his cheek without bothering to place his eyes on you, he carried on: “Did he pay for your coffee?”

Your eyes went once again to the window. “Yes…”

“A date” he stated simply, doing a pretty good job at hiding how much that fact was actually bothering him.

“Well, you’re one to speak” you were the one to scoff this time, shifting in your seat. “You’re the one who was on an actual date with someone else!”

Jeongguk sighed, turning left to the road that would lead to your place. “I’m telling you, it was not a date”.

“Did you pay for her coffee?” you bit back with his own previous words.

Hating the way his own logic had turned out to be against him, he annoyedly answered: “Yes”.

“A date then” you said rather bitterly, crossing your arms over your chest. “Not like it matters though, since you’re not my boyfriend—”

Ouch.

“—and you can do whatever you want”.

“Can I now?” Jeongguk questioned, raising one of his eyebrows as he gave you a quick glance. “I’m guessing so can you then?” he pushed it, receiving nothing but silence from you. “Why don’t you just call what you had with Jaehyuk a date then if you can do whatever you want?”

For the same reason he wouldn’t call what he had as well a date either: because it felt wrong. Although you were technically not dating, there was this kind of both unspoken and unintended agreement not to be with other people. That’s why it had hurt the two of you so much to see one another with someone else. It almost felt like getting caught cheating whilst finding out you were being cheated on all together, for both of you.

With your mouth remaining shut for the rest of the ride, Jeongguk decided not to say anything else either, not even after he had parked the car in front of your building and the two of you got out of it; not even as you made your way inside and spent the single most tense thirty seconds on an elevator. In fact, he only ever opened his mouth with the intention of speaking up once he had followed you to your living room — even then not knowing what to say.

So, you did for him.

“You said we needed to talk” you pointed out what he had ever so determinedly told you over text, “so talk”.

Silence took over for another couple of seconds — Jeongguk having a hard time to find the right words to express what he truly wanted to.

Finally, letting out a shaky breath, he went for it: “I don’t want you to go out with other guys”.

You whined out of exasperation, throwing your head back out of instinct at how obstinate he was being.

“For the millionth time, we were just studying!”

“Well, we were just studying five months ago and you see what happened”.

It was your turn to go quiet; hesitating as to what to say next, given how taken aback his statement had left you right then.

“So what, you’re scared I’ll start fucking him just because the situation is slightly similar to ours?” the tone of your voice sounded almost mocking — your disbelief only growing stronger when he remained silent, breaking the eye contact as he looked to his feet instead, earning a scoff from you. “Seriously, Jeongguk?”

“You can’t tell me it’s not a possibility…”

Because, although it was not the same, to his eyes it was. And it was not like you hadn’t tutored more people during the amount of time the two of you had been together, but it was the first time he felt threatened by someone else. For you to have these little study sessions with someone smarter than him, who also happened to be attractive, felt like a timebomb awaiting to explode. He could already see it, how Jaehyuk would at some point want to move your studying somewhere more private, just like he had done months ago, and how then things would inevitably escalate from there… just like they had escalated with the two of you.

Only he could actually see you falling for said guy, as opposed to what he thought you would never feel for him.

That was the exact moment he let his walls down, along with the exact moment you realised just how hurt by the whole situation he actually was. And although a part of you wanted nothing but to go up to him and hug him tightly, the other part of you, the one that was still hurting because of him, was the one to carry on with the argument.

“You do realise how messed up it is for you not to want me to go out with other people when you yourself are doing just that?”

“She’s just a friend”.

You laughed under your breath at his statement, yet your face alone let him know you were not amused at all. “Friend, sure”.

“If I say she’s just a friend then she’s just a friend!” he snapped, exasperatedly motioning around with his hands to make his point.

“Okay” you nodded, slowly taking one step closer to him. “But what is your definition of ‘friend’, though?” your lips puckered up questioningly as your eyes looked up as well, “because, for all I know, she could be the same kind of ‘friend’ I am to you”.

“Okay, no” his eyebrows furrowed dramatically, “don’t even think about comparing the two of you, because we’re not just friends and you fucking know it”.

Hell, he didn’t know if you were friends to begin with. It had always been different with you. Always had felt like something more he could not quite put his finger on.

“Then what the fuck are we?!” you were the one to snap this time, throwing your hands as you took a step back. “I’m pretty sure fuck-buddies are supposed to have no strings attached, yet here we are freaking out over each other going out with other people”.

“So you did go out with him!”

“No! I—” you sighed, not understanding when had everything started to go downhill. “Look at us, Jeongguk” your voice turned weaker, just like your eyes became softer, “we weren’t supposed to start fighting over these things. This isn’t what I wanted when we started doing this”.

“I didn’t want this either but it happened” he pointed out the obvious, much to your frustration, “and now we have no choice but to deal with this”.

You shook your head no, taking one more step away from him. “We would never work out” you confessed your thoughts, glancing over the entrance of your own apartment yet what seemed to be the only escape right then. “Things weren’t supposed to get this complicated, I don’t want this”.

“No, don’t you dare walk out on me” Jeongguk called you out as soon as he saw you start walking to the door, catching up on your intentions faster than you had given him credit for.

Holding your wrist tightly, he turned you around so that you were back again at facing him, only this time he cornered you on the nearest wall — his intimidating figure hovering over yours.

“You’d really rather ignore your feelings than to give us a chance?”

“We would never work out” you repeated what you had already expressed before, watching the way his eyebrows knitted together in both frustration and disappointment... if not hurt.

“Why not?”

“Because you…” you took in a shaky breath, struggling to find the right words, “you don’t date…”

His lower lip stuck slightly out in confusion. “What does that even mean?”

“You know what it means...”

One look into your eyes was all he needed to understand what you were talking about, and it would’ve been a lie to say it didn’t pain him. Especially since he couldn’t change the things he had been doing up until a few months ago, and he had no idea as to how make you believe he would be willing to change his previous ways for you.

“Is that how low you think of me?” he wondered, taking a step back yet not moving far enough from you to let you move somewhere else.

You shrugged, not daring to meet his eyes as you spoke. “I’m just saying… the guy who fucks around campus and doesn’t do commitment and the straight A’s girl who’s never fallen in love before… it’s like a bad cliché that’s bound to end up with my heart being broken”.

“What about me? Don’t I have a lot to lose, too?” he tilted his head questioningly. “I have never been in love either and, for all I know, you could always fall for some Mr. Right and leave me”.

You could, he was right. However, either fortunately or unfortunately, it was him the one you had caught strong feelings for, and somewhere within the deepest inside of you, you knew falling harder and harder was all you would do from then on.

So, you decided to let him know.

“The thing is, I don’t want some stupid Mr. Right” you confessed, placing your hands on his chest out of habit, “I want you”.

“And I want you” he replied in what felt like a heartbeat, resting his forehead on yours and gently holding your waist — his thumbs drawing small circles on your sides as his lips already were searching for yours, “no one else”.

The way he had every so lovingly whispered those words over your mouth sent shivers down your spine, forgetting your point for a moment there as his sweet lips caught your lower one in between them.

“Jeongguk, wait....” you managed to mumble in between tender kisses, having your voice come out muffled by the soft touch of his lips, “this doesn’t change the fact that I don’t—”

Your words were temporarily hushed by another kiss.

“—entirely trust us together”.

His breathing trembled as he inhaled, fully withdrawing his mouth from yours before his forehead once again rested against your own. He understood. In all honesty, a part of him still didn’t know if he could entirely trust himself either. But he wanted you, in a way he had not ever wanted anyone else, and that was enough for him to know he wanted to fight for you and what the two of you could have if you just acted on your feelings instead of keep ignoring them any longer.

“Let’s just… be exclusive for now then”.

Your eyes opened at that, finding his chocolate ones already staring back at you. “I don’t know about you” a small smile curved up your lips, “but I haven’t slept with anyone else for a while now”.

Jeongguk couldn’t help but smile brightly at your confession, feeling his heart flutter and an indescriptible feel of joy taking over his body.

“Neither have I” he admitted, causing you to tauntingly raise one of your eyebrows. Rolling his eyes, he cupped your face in his hands. “I haven’t. Can you trust me in this one?”

Staring into his genuine eyes, you could do no other but believe him; nodding your head lightly after a few seconds.

“This solves nothing then” your bummed statement got a frown out of him, at which you explained: “We were already kind of exclusive and we still ended up the way we did…”

“But it’s official now” he pointed out, absently tracing your lower lip with his thumbs. “And I don’t mean it just when it comes to sex, I, let’s… not be with anyone else at all. No dates, no kissing…”

“No studying sessions?” you teased before you could stop yourself.

Too soon.

“Y/N” he sighed, “I’m serious” his lower lip stuck out.

“I know, I’m sorry” you pouted as well, loosely wrapping your arms around his neck and feeling your muscles relax when his familiar hands were instinctively placed by your sides, like they had been moments ago. “It’s just… such level of exclusiveness can lead to one of us to confuse it for an actual relationship at some point...”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if that happened...” he sheepishly admitted, making your heart jump when he added with the same shy tone: “Hopefully it won’t be just one of us”.

“And then what?” you questioned, gently playing with the dark strands of hair falling over his neck.

“Then we date” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world; and, to some extent, you knew it was. “As in, boyfriend and girlfriend, in health and sickness or however it goes, kind of serious”.

A bright smile took over your face as you chuckled at his way with words, having him mirror it in a second.

“Just to make sure then” you raised one of your eyebrows, “we won’t be doing anything coupley for now, right? It’s just a promise not to be with anyone else?”

“Oh, no” he denied immediately, “I’ll definitely be all over you and spoil you as much as I can”.

You couldn’t hold back the giggle that had just escaped your mouth, biting down on your lower lip to try and stop smiling so that you could properly speak again.

“We might as well start dating now then” you snorted with the intention of taunting him, yet only causing his heart to skip a beat instead, “since what you’re proposing is pretty much the same”.

“I mean” he dragged on the last letter; his nose faintly brushing over yours, “if you want to…”

You shook your head in amusement, not being able to erase your smile and stop another giggle from escaping your lips.

“Let’s just…” you begun as you tightened your hold around his neck, earning a chuckle from him at the feel of your chest pressing against his — loving to have you closer than he had expected to, “take things slow from here... you know, test the waters...”

He smiled sweetly, nodding his head and letting out an almost inaudible ‘okay’ before he closed the space between your mouths.

As one of his hands moved up to cup your cheek and allow him to intensify the kiss by pressing his lips deeper against yours, his other one was soon to follow just as your fingers begun to entangle themselves in his messy hair. It was that small act from yours he had always been driven crazy for, along with your mouth opening faintly to allow his tongue the entrance it had been asking for, what caused his free hand to stop from travelling up to your cheek and instead move down to the hem of your sweater, wasting no time in digging inside the fabric so he could tenderly caress your skin; almost immediately feeling your goosebumps under his fingertips.

“Does this mean no sex for a while now?” he panted, planting a chaste kiss to your mouth, “because this one week without having you has been killing me”.

You bit down on your lower lip and shook your head in amused disbelief, jokingly shoving him away from you, only for his hands to catch yours and pull you closer to him once again — warmingly wrapping you inside his arms.

“Ugh, you only want me for my body” you over dramatically breathed out, causing a light laugh to escape his throat, and then a moan to be muffled against your lips when you determinedly pulled him towards you to resume your needy make out session.

You knew now more than ever that it was not like that at all, because the line between fuck-buddies and an actual couple had been one hell of a thin one for the two of you for a while now, and even though there were quite a few things both of you needed to work out first in order to put a label to your relationship, there was one thing you were sure about: you didn’t need to name what you had for it to be genuine.

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missinghan · 4 years

Text

dawn ⤖ lee minho

❖ genre : runaway! au; demon!au; fluff; angst

❖ word count : 10k.

❖ warning : explicit language, mentions of alcohol

❖ summary : it seems like everyone has their own guardian angel, everyone but you because you’ve given up on Jesus the moment you come down to Lee Minho’s level and shake hands with the Devil.

one.

Your dad is definitely not gonna approve of you hanging by the bar alone after midnight.

It all happened too fast, and you don’t even know where you’re going next. After a call from your manager, which you almost fell asleep as he rambled about boring paperwork, until he dropped the bomb. He said he was sorry for what he’s gonna say next and turned out the label wanted to cut you loose. The entire universe was completely shattered right in front of your eyes. You were utterly speechless when the line went dead so long story short, you packed your bag and ran away.

Like a coward.

You stare blankly at the half-empty glass of Martini in your hand before chuckling lowly. Because life is a little son of a bitch, who’s born with the power to pull on everyone’s strings as if people are a bunch of puppets for whatever gods up there to entertain themselves. Getting signed into a music production company right after your graduation swept your life over with joy. Your parents were… overwhelmed to say the least but they still wanted you to move to Seoul. Two years later, your life once again was flipped upside down because of a single phone call. They didn’t even bother to call you in and meet face-to-face.

“Cheers to this motherfucker.” You almost laugh at your own miserable state but suppress it and down the whole glass in one go. “Another one.” You tell the barista absently and he just sighs before starting to mix your drink.

“Tough times ?” He leans over the counter and slides your drink across the wooden surface.

You gratefully take the glass, words slurred between hiccups. “You have no fucking idea.” Your eyes travel down from his defined features gleaming under the neon light to the name tag hanging off his white dress shirt. It reads ‘Kim Woojin’. You shake your head to lure the weariness away while your right hand reaching inside your pocket to pull out some cash.

But before you can place them on the table, Woojin stops you abruptly. “Keep a hold of them. This last one’s on me.” He sighs defeatedly. Judging by how you look right now, he must have thought that you’re some petty college girl who just got into a fight with her boyfriend and now you have nowhere to stay for the night so essentially, he wants to be certain that you’ll have enough money for a cheapass motel of some sort.

Woojin pats his wet hands onto the black apron wrapped around his hip. “You’ll need them more than I do.” And you feel kinda bad for him, partially because this place doesn’t serve cheap vodka like most bars, and partially because you’re now a somewhat burden to the bartender. “Listen, no matter how much bad shit happens, I’m sure you’ll be just fine. Besides, looks like that punk over there has already had his eyes on you the whole time.” He winks at you playfully before walking over to his coworker at the other side of the counter.

Speaking of the Devil… literally, not even sarcastically, a hollow presence seems to come into sight the moment you place your lips on the rim of the glass. You automatically reach your hand backwards only to find exactly what you’re looking for. “Do not touch me.” You deadpan, normally you would have felt bad by now upon your sudden discourtesy but unfortunately you’re not in the mood to be kind today. Hearing his melodic chuckle, you yank his hand away rather harshly, the coldness of his touch still chills you to the bone.

“Why so sad, bunny ?” He moves over to sit down on the nearby wooden bench, lips curled into a devilish smirk. Out of 7 billion people on this glorious plant, he chooses to pester a mundane mortal like you. Out of 365 days of the year, he chooses to visit you on the worst day of your life. Lee Minho is worse than Lucifer, it’s official.

Not enjoying your dull state, he cocks a brow at you. “You’re jobless because that stupid label doesn’t need you anymore. And now what ? Are you gonna be petty and depressed about it for the rest of your life ? Because if so, you’ll have a really shitty life Y/N. Do you really want your demons to come out and conquer the path ahead like it’s their fucking playground ?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Said a demon himself.”

“Then aren’t humans the closest things that we have to demons alive ?” Minho almost snickers at your suggestive remark, but he wouldn’t admit that it did sting a bit. After all, he is a demon, an epitome of a creature that’s second to Lucifer and his descendants generation, highly worshipped and exceptionally feared. And he’s low-key impressed that you didn’t throw yourself out the window when he stepped out of a wisp of black smoke the day you two first encountered.

You on the other hand didn’t know that he was too utterly soft for you to actually erase your memories. From then on, he would visit you occasionally at the godly hour when you’re close to kicking yourself in the process of composing or when you accidentally fucked up something. ‘Til this day, you still don’t know whether his concern for you is pure sincerity or he just finds your first world problems very amusing. You can’t tell either way.

Taking another sip of your drink, you groan slightly at the slight burn in your throat from the strong alcohol. “I mean ... fair point.” Your lips pursed unknowingly. “I don’t know Minho… I think I must have done something fucking messed up to be kicked out of the game like that. I wasn’t even thinking straight, you know, just packed my stuff and drove downtown. Ugh now I feel like shit.”

The demon in front of you glares at the glass of Martini coldly. He’s not letting you finish that shit after who knows how much alcohol that Woojin has permitted you to drink. “Do you think that overcoming cowardice is easy ? If it was that easy, everyone would go outside to get some fresh air, smell some flowers, meet new people; not fucking hide behind their screens and whatnot while talking trash about others like a bunch of scaredy-cats.” Minho spats, swiftly taking your drink away before you gulp it again.

Funny enough, you’re sitting at a bar with a demon, who’s obviously so done with your shit, but also the one that you have least expectations for listening and giving you advice. Just like how that one song goes.

Well, I shook hands with the devil

Down on the south side

And he bought us both a drink

With a pad and a pencil sat by his side

I said, "Tell me what you think".

Except that Minho didn’t buy you a drink, he actually stole yours.

“I may not know much about your world, but I’m confident that you’re very talented and passionate about what you’re doing. I saw how much effort you put into your work, staying up after midnight, heck, you barely got any sleep when you’re still working for that shitty company. I saw how much you care, Y/N and I don’t give two fucks about how much you’re doubting yourself because you’re so much more than that. I know you got this, you’re as stubborn as a human being can be, you’re not gonna let a tiny cut or bruised knee hold you back, are you ?”

You shake your head slightly, starting to acknowledge his words. You don’t get why you never noticed this but for a demon, Minho gives really good advice. In spite of his cocky personality because he thinks that he has every right to sass every human being out whenever wherever he wants to, his company always makes you feel fuzzy inside. It’s almost heartwarming but that makes no sense because demons are nowhere near ‘sweet and caring’.

A strange look flashes in his eyes when his eyes meet yours but before you can properly react, it vanishes. “You’re not drinking ever again… at least not for the time being.” He tells you off with his eyes before chugging the whole glass. Woah, good shit, he admits internally. And he’s mildly surprised that you’re taking this better than he’d thought. Other young producers would have been bawling their eyes out by now, not talking to a creature from the underworld.

“Alcohol helps me sleep.” You pout slightly, feeling the need to actually pay Woojin back when you get paid again. Oh wait… but you’re practically unemployed. “Insomnia is painstakingly arbitrary, like a needle that’s constantly pricking my spine whenever I’m trying to get comfy in bed. Guess I’m not sleeping tonight, thanks a lot.” You huff and lean over on the wooden counter, cheek pressed against your left upper arm.

Although Minho thinks that you look ridiculously cute right now with tinted pink cheeks and messy hair, he’s still not gonna buy you another drink. “They do say that insomnia is just another word for chit chatting with the demons during bedtime. And you’ve already wolfed down three fucking Vodka Martinis by the time I teleported here, aren’t you concerned about the stupid hangover tomorrow morning ? I swear to Lucifer— are you even listening to me right now ?”

Minho asks in disbelief when you stay unresponsive. The demon peels his eyes away from the empty glass and turns his head only to find you already fallen asleep, like a bear in hibernation. Your eyes are closed shut, chest heaving up and down rhythmically as you drift away from the cruel reality and into dreamland. Truth be told, you tend to fall asleep whenever he’s lecturing you a lot, and that gives him an excuse to stay for a little more than he should.

two.

Hangover hits you with a bang, almost knocks you out cold. But it’s not going to let you pass out, at least not before you start regretting the amount of alcohol that you chugged last night. Your eyes are still screwed shut, refusing to flutter open as your head throbs uncontrollably. Usually you would have been awake by now since you’re dumb enough to have white curtains instead of colored ones which helps the sunlight goes right through your apartment.

But something seems off today because there’s nothing that’s bothering your eyes. And you would definitely sleep in if it wasn’t for the strange feeling beneath your skin. Wait a second… A worrisome feeling runs down your spine, causing your eyes to open. You look down and check your clothes properly, everything stays the same except for… hold on, since when did you have a silky black sheet ?

“You woke up, finally. Be grateful that you’re on time for breakfast.” Someone’s voice booms in the distance when your eyes adjust themselves on the foreign surroundings. The studio apartment in front of you has your jaw dropped to the floor. Minimal yet modern pieces of furniture, a fully equipped kitchenette and an enormous window that gives you a breathtaking view of the whole city. This isn’t your apartment, is it ?

You groan loudly before pushing yourself off the bed and shiver slightly when your feet come in contact with the cold floor. “Tylenol’s on the table, you’re welcome.” Minho says nonchalantly as he has his back against you. You drag yourself to the dining table and pop the pills into your mouth before downing the glass of water beside them.

Yeah, no, you’re not drinking ever again.

“What are you doing ?” You ask him in a raspy tone and sniff your nose continuously at the aroma that’s filling the entirety of the apartment. Minho stays silent, deciding to fully concentrate on his current task. When you suddenly approach him from behind and place your head lazily on his shoulder, he almost drops the pot of freshly made soup. His chest swells a bit whenever you get close to his body, whether it is because it’s all in his head or just you having that kind of effect on him, he dares not to know.

“Tsk, you’re in my way, shoo.” He sneers, motioning for you to move so that he can transfer the pot over to the table in peace. Minho quickly scoops the thick liquid into a smaller bowl and gives you a look. You just stare at the hearty soup in complete awe, mouth slightly watered. No one has ever cooked for you before, much less a pot full of hangover soup. And you would be lying if you said that you’re not touched right now because you feel like it’s been forever since you’ve had homemade food.

Lee Minho never changes, still ever so caring.

He sits down at the table and pushes the bowl towards you. “Eat this and write me a 1000 words essay for instant feedback later.” Without a word, you automatically take a spoonful into your mouth, almost choking because of how hot it is. “Dude, it’s not 1945 anymore. If this goes on, you’re not gonna die from anything other than choking yourself.” He purses his lips at your eagerness, dabbing the excess soup away with a napkin on the corner of your lips.

After coughing furiously, you figure that your voice can finally function normally. “I didn’t know that you can cook, god this soup is everything.” In the next ten minutes, you finish inhaling the whole bowl as if you’ve walked through the desert, searching for an oasis for a week straight.

You’ve never let anyone cook for you other than your parents because one, none of your friends can cook, Changbin almost burnt your apartment down while Jisung came up with the idea to crack eggs with a knife; and two, you still remember a creepy story you once heard on a podcast vividly. Basically, there’s this girl who allowed her date to make her a meal on their very first encounter. She was hospitalized a week later, suspecting food poisoning but the test results came out as cannibalism. Yikes.

“Demons eat souls, not human flesh you paranoid bitch.” Minho reads your thoughts in a matter of seconds before taking his wooden spoon and smack you on the head. He looks unimpressed right now, he really does because he’s so over your delusional ass from binge-watching way too many investigation related shows at three a.m. “They’re not even that tasty, I’d rather have a boring sandwich.”

You scoff at him, rubbing the spot where he hit previously. “You can’t have mine then, it’s too dark for you.”

“A ‘thank you’ would be nice.” He almost grit, lips pressed into a thin line.

You stand up from the wooden stool and carry the dishes over to the newly renovated silver sink. “This is your place ?” You ask while turning on the faucet to spray water all over the dirty bowl. “It’s really nice, not gonna lie. Just not as nice as mine.”

When you’re having your back against him, Minho looks somewhat guilty. What would Hyunjin say if he found out that his roommate brought a mundane mortal home and even made her a bowl of hangover soup ? “For the time being, it is.” Whatever, Hyunjin’s staying in Italy for a good two weeks anyway. With a little bit more effort of ridding off your human scent and reorganize some stuff, Minho can pretty much pass without being suspected. “And what do you expect ? That I’m gonna leave you at the bar where sketchy people are getting wasted ? FYI, a demon doesn’t necessarily have to own a place where it’s just full of miserable souls swimming around. I take my beauty sleep very seriously, actually, all of us do. Even Satan.”

You carefully line the dishes up on the white rack next to the sink and sighs. “Beauty sleep ? I don’t know her.” When you turn around to face Minho, his lips are slightly curled upwards. “What, Minho ?” You ask, slightly annoyed.

He props his head onto his palms and cocks his head to the side. “What will you do now ? Going home is a no-no, obviously, and I believe that your coworkers/best friends are flipping the whole city upside down looking for you so your apartment isn’t really an option anymore. What’s next Y/N ?”

You think for a bit and hum. “Technically I’m running away ...so…why not make the best out of it ?” Then, something clicks and your eyes lit up in mischief. “I have an idea. It’s genius, a fucking genius idea.”

Minho immediately shakes his head furiously, looking like he’s encountering a panic attack. “Hate it.”

“You love it, don’t even lie to yourself.”

“It’s humiliating.”

You reach your hands inside your pocket to look for your keys. “Too late.” That’s when Minho knows that he doesn’t have a say in this.

three.

“You know what’s more fun than this ?” Minho supports himself on his knees as his breaths come in short, he feels like he’s gonna throw up. Being on a rollercoaster is most definitely scarier than attending a meeting with the Underworld Authority. He still doesn’t get why humans enjoy torturing themselves as a form of pure entertainment when they can do something like educate themselves by reading more books. “Hearing Lucifer play the fiddle, the Devil plays it damn good and a fun demon to hang around. He’s a real entertainer, trust me. Just hire a lawyer beforehand if you’re signing any contract with him.”

Minho’s making it sound like you’re planning on having ‘a thing’ with Lucifer meanwhile he practically follows you everywhere, watches your every move and you think that’s close enough for an example of the infamous slavery contract.

You run a hand through your hair and exhale in satisfaction. Since middle school, you haven’t really got a chance to come to amusement parks before. You’re far too caught up with the new tempo to life these days. “Come on, it’s not that bad. It ain’t my fault when you can’t teleport us both to somewhere further.” You almost laugh at his current state; disheveled hair, beads of sweat rolling down on his forehead, and he looks as pale as a ghost like he just saw one. Not like he’s terrified of ghosts or anything, actually, he might be scared of heights.

“You can’t teleport with me for fuck’s sake, even when I want to, you’ll end up disintegrating into dusts forever because your mortal body doesn’t have enough energy to recollect itself piece by piece.” Minho grits and shakes his head slightly to adjust the messy mop of hair on his head. He looks really cute, you think. Like a cat that’s trying to clean itself but can’t quite reach the itchy spot.

Upon your stubbornness because he knows too well that you just wanna see him being drowned in misery, Minho can’t help but roll his eyes. “And can you get any dumber ? You have a fucking Range Rover and a valid license. Technically, there’s no law against driving with a demon sitting in your vehicle. Ugh, I really should have left you at the bar last night.”

Right when you’re about to snap back at him with a witty comment, your phone buzzes loudly. And your eyes are about to jump out of their sockets the moment you open up the device. There are more than thirty missed calls, from your family and friends along with countless texts filled with nothing but concern. Changbin and Jisung both work under the same label as you so you assume that your family already knew everything. Now you feel guilty for running away so spontaneously because after all, you do have people who are always willing to be there for you.

[ 3:25pm ]

jisung | dude, I’m outside, open up

jisung | we know everything already

changbin | Y/N I’m bringing food over, you’re gonna binge-watch Netflix with us whether you want to or not

[ 3:27pm ]

jisung | uhm, hello ? Y/N ?

changbin | we’re breaking in if you’re not coming out, FYI

[ 3:35pm ]

jisung | you know I have the keys right, we’re gonna go in

changbin | this isn’t fucking funny

jisung | stop being such a stubborn piece of shit

[ 3:36pm ]

jisung | Y/N where the fuck are you ?!

changbin | …. look, just go home, your family are worried sick

[ 3:45pm ]

jisung | at least call me back ?

changbin | whatever you’re planning on doing, don’t do it

[ 9:23pm ]

chan | call me, I’m not going anywhere

Sensing your racing thoughts and seeing your tense posture, Minho swiftly takes your phone away from your hand and drops it into his pocket. The last thing he wants to see is you curled up into a ball and cry alone in the bathroom. “You’re so rude ? What kind of human are you, Y/N ? This is how you’re treating your date ?” He huffs, arms crossed in front of his chest like a little kid. But wait, a date ?

“This is not a date, Lee Minho, stop flirting with me.” You knit your brows together in confusion when his eyes twinkle. What’s with his demon nature being on steroids right now ? “Give me my phone.” You order.

“It’s a date when I say that it’s a date.” Minho reaches his hand outwards and links his fingers with yours. He quickly narrows the proximity between the two of you, backing you up against a wall. Utterly speechless, you find yourself dumbfoundedly melting into his touch. How can a demon possess such radiant warmth and tenderness ? Is it all just a facade or does he seem more human when he’s around you, you can’t tell either way. But what you do know is that when you relax a bit and let him hold your hand properly, it fits like a glove.

Minho cocks his head and cracks a smile. For the longest time, you’ve never noticed anyone looking at you with so much sincerity and affection. Maybe it’s all in your head after all. “What now ? You wanna watch a movie and put our hands into the popcorn at the same time to see what’ll happen or nah ?” You question, but it feels more like a question towards yourself.

Minho chuckles lightheartedly. “You’re so damn predictable Y/N.”

The rest of the night is absolutely magical. You feel like you’re acting in one of those One Direction’s music videos that’s not the typical ‘too good to be true’ kind. It really does remind you a lot of ‘Night Changes’ when Minho almost slips while holding onto you like a cat that just came in contact with water. Meaning, if it weren’t for your mediocre ice-skating skills way back from middle school, everything would have been exactly like the music video itself, in which you don’t mind. Because it’s Lee Minho, because his warm presence is something you never knew you needed in your life, because you always have this sense of comfort and happiness even when he starts cursing so loudly that your ears bleed. Demon or not, him being him is truly a blessing already.

Minho says. “I told you it’s humiliating.” He links your hand into his before stuffing it inside his pocket and drags you away from the front entrance. His hand’s got a lot warmer from staying inside his coat for so long and that makes him more human than ever. In which, makes you feel fuzzy.

“You freaking loved it, you can’t tell me otherwise.” You shake your head in denial.

“Whatever.” He rolls his eyes for the tenth time. “Let’s go home.”

four.

The next day, Minho somehow convinces you to drive back to your apartment for packing. Not for running away this time, he’s had enough of that shit. But for a trip back to your hometown instead ( you really should have gone deeper into his ‘let’s go home’ from last night ). The flight will take approximately ten hours or more so he only gives you two hours to pack before leaving. You basically spend half an hour picking out clothes from the messy walk-in closet and another ninety minutes to fit all of them into your suitcase while having a mental breakdown inside your head.

Because gosh, what would they think ?

You’ve scared them all shitless for the last two days and now you’re just gonna show up at the front door and go “Hey, I’m done being miserable now.” ? Sounds like a pretty solid plan but you doubt that your mom’s not planning to beat you up with her favorite broom that’s covered in nothing but dust and spiderwebs. Not to mention, your brother is definitely gonna grill your ass for causing such a commotion in your family. You can already imagine him waiting for you at the foyer with crossed arms, getting ready to lecture the heck out of you.

“Did you lose your favorite pair of shoes or something ?” Minho suddenly fades into your room, making you jump slightly. You’ve got used to his particular ways of intruding your personal space but the demon never seems to fail at surprising you.

You glare at him. “Look who’s being rude now.”

Minho purses his lips. “I didn’t know humans were notorious for being terribly indecisive when it comes to their belongings.” He almost sneers, leaning back against your bedroom wall.

“That’s not the problem.” Yeah, that’s not the problem because not every human takes pain in packing their stuff, it’s just a ‘you’ problem. “I’m coming home after scaring the shit out of my loved ones. I wouldn’t blame them if they hated me, it’s just that I don’t know what to say. What do I say in situations like this ? School didn’t teach me that.” A sigh escapes your lips as you kick your suitcase towards the door. And you’re kinda glad that Changbin and Jisung left your apartment last night, specifically when you called them at one a.m. because you were driving back with a demon right next to the shotgun window.

Minho politely grabs the doorknob and pushes the door open for you. Now that was a first. You almost smile at his out-of-nowhere kind gesture. Normally, he would have teleported to the front porch and complained about how you’re always taking so long. “Hurry up dumbass, we don’t have all day.” He raises his brow at your thoughts.

“Tsk, you’re not the one who’s driving.”

Minho can’t drive, sadly. Partially because he doesn’t see the point in moving around in a fucking box with four wheels when he’s fully capable of teleporting from one place to another within a snap of his fingers. And partially because he can’t afford erasing some cops’ memories because they might have some kind of innovative technology that’ll automatically record when things go down. Another reason is that he might or might not chug a whole bottle of whiskey while driving just because he feels like it.

“It’s cold, roll down the windows.” Minho reminds you when he enters your car because gosh, you always love to keep the temperature at a minimum of 71 degrees even when it’s freezing outside. His cold-hearted demon ass is quaking because another cold case remains another mystery for the entirety of humanity. “You’d be a badass demon, just saying. I’m surprised that you’re still alive at this point.” He shakes his head in disapproval and leans forward to turn off the AC. Not because he’s cold but he’s afraid that you’ll actually freeze to death before you two can even make it to the airport.

You kick the brake when the first red light occurs. “Just admit it, you’re cold. If anything, you can always hold my hand.”

“Okay,” He blinks numerous time at your reply. When did you become such a brat ? You’ve been acting like him these past few days and now he knows how it feels like. Woah, he does act like an old, bitchy cat. “Who taught you that ?”

You say, sparing him a slight smirk. “You know, only the best of the best.”

“Just don’t act like that in front of your parents, will you ?” Minho scrunches his nose at your particular way of having a civil conversation. “You did tell your parents right ?”

You nod. “Yeah, I told them that I was gonna go home sooner or later. I even texted Chan— OH MY GOD,” You let out the loudest gasp whilst trying to make sharp turn at an intersection.

“What the fuck is wrong with you ?” He gasps in disbelief at your sudden outburst, holding onto the side of your car for dear life.

“I can’t just bring a demon home !” You cry out. “You’d be considered safe if it weren’t for my brother. He just happens to be home for break. God, do you know how protective he is when it comes to bringing a guy home ?!” One time, you asked your desk mate from highschool to do a project at your house and Chan didn’t even hesitate to put him on trial. Luckily, they talked things out pretty smoothly and became friends later. Now Felix’s probably the only guy who wouldn’t be thrown off a cliff for breathing in the same room as you.

Minho stares at you weirdly for a full twenty seconds, and that makes you think he’s mentally judging you, which he totally is. “Wouldn’t me being your boyfriend the best option then ?”

“Are you dumb, or are you dumb ?” You haven’t dated anyone since elementary school and the relationship didn’t even last a week. And now out of nowhere you’re just gonna bring a ‘boyfriend’ home after running away ? That’s practically equivalent to adding fuel to the fire and you doubt that Minho’s comprehend the situation correctly. That’s it, you’re officially letting all hell break loose from here. “Yeah, go ahead and be my boyfriend if you wanna sleep with the fishes.”

He throws a look at you. “Is that a challenge ?”

“Better not dress like that in front of my family then.” You glance at his bold choice of a silky wine colored dress shirt along with leather pants and combat boots. Can’t have him walking around looking like a celebrity now, can you ? Although he does look good in them… so annoying.

“Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

However, Minho’s outfit is most definitely the least of your worries.

five.

“Don’t tell me that you thought this through because-“

Minho says in a hushed tone. “I did think this through, baby. Loosen up a bit.” A devilish smirk blooms on his lips as he tucks some loose strands of hair behind your ear. He really needs to stop doing that because you’re already a blushing mess. He switched out his usual clothes and went for a comfortable hoodie with some jeans and sneakers. You hate him even more now because the demon easily pulled off the perfect boyfriend look.

Grimacing, you slap his hand away. “I’m not your fucking baby. And keep your hands to yourself, will you ?” And with that, you turn on your heels and make a beeline towards the kitchen where everyone’s busy setting up the table, leaving him in the living room alone.

Minho unconsciously plops himself onto the white faux leather couch and looks around in awe. Your house sort of symbolizes you because it’s minimal in the best way with a white color scheme and the occasional colorful tiny details on some of the decorative pieces. He starts pondering about how you never told him anything about your family in Australia. And although you grew up in a pretty well-off household, you didn’t flaunt your wealth. That makes you much more admirable in his eyes because not everyone can keep their mouth shut for more than two seconds when it comes to money.

Truth is, when your parents saw Minho for the very first time, they totally freaked out and drove to the nearest supermarket to shop for more ingredients. Now the house is filled with the aroma of a variety of grilled meat, vegetables, seafood and rice. He finally understands why you’re always homesick because gosh, who wouldn’t miss this kind of homemade food ? Minho props his head onto his hand as he watches your hard-working back figure from the living room, arranging the dishes onto the dining table with a smile on your face. And that stirs something inside him, he just doesn’t want to know it yet.

And Berry - your very much spoiled dog - is absolutely terrified by his dark presence. She keeps barking whenever he tries to pick her up, then ends up whimpering in the corner later. “Berry, don’t be rude ! He’s no stranger to us now.” Your mom nags while looking at Minho with an apologetic look. “Minho, honey, come join us. There’s no need to be so formal.” She offers him a seat at your family’s table warmly and he can already see where you got your smile from.

When he beams at her words and quickly takes the seat right beside you, you secretly roll your eyes at him. “I didn’t know dogs were supposed to be scared of demons. This is so obvious.” As you continue to complain about how he’s not acting naturally and all in a small tone, your hand automatically reaches for the chopsticks and picks out some lamb loin chops onto his plate. Minho simply brushes your words off, muttering a quick ‘thanks babe’ before pressing a kiss on your cheek.

Your eyes widen in surprise at his action, immediately darting towards your family members else whom have already gathered around. But before you can react properly, your dad cuts you off. “How sweet of you two.” He shows that signature ‘dad smile’ which never fails to melt your heart. “Don’t they remind you of us when we were young, dear ?” He tells your mom.

“Certainly, I still remember how—“

“Uhm, so, how did you two meet ?” Your brother - Chan - who’s sitting across the table tries his very best not to gag and changes the topic before things get out of hand. Your dad used to tell you about his first encounter with your mom, their first date and etc.. as an alternative version for the regular bedtime stories session. Chan has known too much already.

“We met at a dinner through a mutual friend during her business trip to Paris. I knew she didn’t come from Europe so if I didn’t ask for her number then, we would never meet again.” Minho has already made up a story during the dreadfully long flight, now all he has to do is read outloud. Easy mode. “We kept in touch and eventually, I moved back to Korea to meet her and stayed with her since then.”

Chan hums as a response, he doesn’t hate Minho yet, you can tell. “Why didn’t you tell me about him, Y/N ? Dad was so close to talking to Felix’s parents about setting you two up.”

You gulp slightly to hide your nervousness. Under the table, Minho squeezes your hand in reassurance, and that gives you enough courage to explain slowly. “I didn’t want to freak you out with our long distance relationship. You might go nuts knowing that I’m dating a guy who I’ve only met once and he’s nearly six thousand miles away.” And setting you up with Felix ? You would never let that happen. Not in a million years. It makes you shiver just thinking about holding your highschool deskmate’s hand while walking down the aisle. “And dad, Lee Felix ? Really ? I would rather be single.”

Your dad laughs. “Come on, he’s a pretty decent boy. Too bad he’s traveling overseas right now or I might invite him over.”

“So, Minho,” Chan sips on his drink. “What do you do for a living ?” When you two arrived at the front door, he finds such little amount that Minho’s luggage holds a bit skeptical, as if your relationship and the idea of coming home happens overnight. And how he wears clothes pretty casual too for a first time meeting the parents but Chan knows better than to judge a book by its cover. However, he wants to make sure that your ‘boyfriend’ doesn’t do drugs of any kind.

Minho doesn’t even hesitate. “I’m a dancer and owns a dance studio with my friend after when I flew back to Korea. I was in Paris for an internship over the summer.” You just sit there, blinking at him in disbelief like a total dumbass. Now you’re starting to wonder how it feels like to dance with the Devil. And if it weren’t for him kicking your leg under the table, your face would have given it away.

“Hmm, interesting.” Chan nods in acknowledgement. Well, at least he’s not unemployed… could have been worse.

Your mom advises thoughtfully as she walks over to the kitchen aisle and refills the plate of beef. “Oh, and be careful with the sauce for the lamb, it’s quite hot. If you’re not good with spicy food, just leave it out.”

“No, it’s fine. Actually, I can handle spicy stuff pretty well.. unlike someone over here.” Minho glances over at you. You immediately gut him with your elbow, earning a low grunt followed by a lighthearted chuckle of your family members.

“Minho can handle spicy things only because he’s getting old. His taste buds are losing their senses.” Your comment is partially true because he once told you that he’s been around for quite awhile. Definitely a lot older than the new batch of demons. He stopped counting at some point but ensured you that it’s somewhere from fifteen thousand and twenty thousand.

Minho looks at your sternly as the corners of his lips curled up. You’re already low-key mortified of what he’s going to say. “If you’re gonna act like a brat for the rest of the night, I’ll have to make sure that your legs will lose their sense by tomorrow morning.” Yep, there it is. You’re so used to his flirtatious remarks to the point that they don’t faze you anymore but having your family witness this is another level of torture. Minho’s definitely the type of guy ( if he were an actual human being ) who can’t be bothered about publicity and would straight up kiss you in the middle of the street.

And it doesn’t help either when Chan just doesn’t laugh loudly at your ‘boyfriend’s’ less than appropriate joke, he’s also on his side. Along with your parents. “I like you, not everyone can make her shut up like that.” Your brother nods in approval, clapping happily like a seal. Your parents even supply unhelpfully. “Try to keep it down and use protection, okay kids ?” Is this what betrayal feels like ?

You feel so adopted at that moment.

six.

“What the hell are you doing here ?” You try to groan as quietly as possible when you find Minho creeping up to you in the living room. “What part of ‘you can take my bed and I’ll sleep on the couch, wake up before everyone else then come back to my room later on’ couldn’t you understand ?” A compromise was almost made, and he fucking blew it.

He chuckles and looks at you dreamily. For a second there, you really thought that he was sleep-walking. His brown hair is in a bird nest, accommodated by a pair of plaid pants and white t-shirt. This prick never fails to make your heart skip a beat. You’re glad that at least he doesn’t sleep shirtless like your brother. It gives you major nightmares since middle school just by waking him up every morning.

“I can’t sleep on a foreign bed..” Minho pouts. He really can’t, especially when you’re not around. And he’s not risking the chance of one of your folks or Chan accidentally. barging into the room when he’s doing some voodoo shit either.

You huff tiredly and walk over to him, grabbing the pillow from his arms before throwing it on the couch along with your blanket. Well, lucky him, your parents just happen to love ginormous couches and you’re far too lazy to drag him back to your bedroom. “Come here.” You order after plopping yourself onto the soft surface, letting out a prolonged yawn. Minho takes a good ten seconds to look at you again. He can’t help but keep staring like a creep when you’re in an oversized t-shirt with shorts underneath, exposing your bare thighs. You’re too cute for your own good.

You say when he remains silent. “Hurry up before I change my mind.”

He obediently nods, quickly settling down under the blanket. You two shuffle around for a bit until no one’s uncomfortable with less than a few inches away from each other. And when you decide to flip yourself over to face the wall, Minho gently pulls your back flush against his chest. Your eyes fly open at the sudden contact. “What-the-fuck-do-you-think-you’re-doing ?” You turn around and stare at him square in the eye.

Even in the dark, his eyes are gleaming with a demonic glint of silver. He beams innocently at your threatening tone. “Get comfortable ?”

“I mean…” You hesitate for a few seconds. Because you’d hate to admit but it does feel kinda nice having his warmth radiating off from underneath his thin shirt. It makes you feel fuzzy inside, more secure, more like you’re finally home. “If you don’t mind then…” You gather up every last bit of courage and energy to scoot yourself towards him, your arms snaking around on either side and hug his torso closer, your face buried in his chest.

And it takes every single strand of willpower for Minho to not jump and teleport to the nowhere. His breath starts to quicken when your body is practically attached to his. He didn’t expect this at all. It might be because you’re exhausted from the flight so you’re just far too sleepy to be conscious of your own actions. But anyhow, he’s not against the idea of having you in his arms like this. It makes him more relaxed knowing that you’re safe in his sound right here.

So Minho drapes one of his arms around your waist to hold you in place and the other underneath his head, straddling his legs with yours to keep them warm since you’re only wearing shorts. “Thanks for dinner, by the way.” He murmurs into your hair, taking in the scent of your familiar shampoo.

“If anything, you should be thanking my parents. They looked like they just saw Jesus when you first arrived.” You say and snuggle closer to him.

He chuckles, sending vibrations to the tip of your nose. “Admit it, your family’s in love with me. Even your brother isn’t half as bad as you made it sound. I think he would actually have nothing against our wedding.”

You make a face and lift your head upwards to look at him. “Dude, it’s just really good acting. Such a shame how the other Lee Minho gets the title of an actor when you’re over here stuck with being a demon.” If you’re being completely honest, you’re kinda scared right now. Because one, all of this is just a big play and when you fly back to Korea, it may seem like nothing has ever happened. And two, if this goes way too far, your family might disown you for ‘breaking up’ with Minho when he wasn’t even your boyfriend in the first place.

“Actually, I’d be glad to take the title of being your boyfriend instead.” And the thumping force inside your chest picks up the pace as you can feel your cheeks heating up. His simple acknowledgement makes you flustered, absolutely moonstruck. No one has ever said that to you before, well, partially because you’re super single but you can’t help but let those words affect you tremendously. “Where do you want to go for our honey—“

“We’re not getting married.” You hiss at him like a snake.

Minho draws a cat-like grin on his lips, mischief glistening in his eyes. “Nuh uh too late. I’ll consider you as my own from now on, Mrs. Lee.”

You reply flatly. “You talk a lot for a demon who treasures their beauty sleep. You’re not vampires and you don’t watch people in their sleep, do you ?” The only person Minho watches in their sleep is you, but he’s not saying that to your face. And that was one time, one-time.

Upon his silence, you raise a brow. “Wait, you do ?”

“Who I watch in their sleep is none of your business, Y/N.” He replies with flaming cheeks.

You giggle. “I knew it, you’re related to Edward Cullen.”

“No, not that bitch Edward !” Minho makes a disgusted face but can’t contain his laughter for long. God, what are you doing to him ?

seven.

You wake up with a cold sensation wrapping around your feet. With body shivering slightly, you instinctively nuzzle your head into the nearest heat source, retreating your legs deeper into the fuzzy blanket. Groaning, you shake your head slightly to shake the weariness away. This is why you hate long flights with a passion because you’re never not gonna be jet lagged for the rest of your life.

“Why do you always wake up so fucking early ?” Your eyes shoot open at the hoarse voice only to find Minho squinting his eyes at you sleepily with his bedhead and wrinkled shirt. He looks so human right now you can care less about the fact that you’ve just spent an entire night on your parents’ favorite couch with a creature from Hell. Definitely boyfriend material.

“My feet get cold easily in the morning, and that wakes me up.” You pout and hold his torso closer. Minho tries his best not to flinch when your arm brushes over his as the strangest warm feeling bubbles up inside his stomach. And you’re glad that he doesn’t snore and isn’t a messy sleeper. Just sleeps like the death, which makes sense. Unlike your best friend, Seo Changbin who sleeps like a fucking starfish with his four limbs wide open. Give him a king sized bed and he can still manage to have his blanket on the floor by the time the sun rises.

Minho runs a hand through the messy bird nest on his head which takes the breath right out of your lungs because it looks like those too good to be true shampoo commercials with people who have shiny, luminous hair. But those models spend hours on a wooden stool for their stylists to make it look like they didn’t even try but they’re not even close to Minho’s league because he needs none of that in order to look attractive.

Finally, he sighs. “Go back to sleep then.” He pulls the blanket down slightly to cover your feet completely and hugs your waist closer so that your upper body won’t be bothered by the morning breeze. “I’ll make breakfast later, what do your folks usually prefer ?”

You look up at him in awe. No one has ever offered such a sweet thing to do when they come over to your house. Not even your relatives ‘cause they’re far too busy bombarding you and Chan with questions about your personal lives rather than helping your parents out with washing the dishes after a meal is done. Minho might look cold and all but it’s all really just the typical demon facade that he’s trying to maintain. He’s actually really caring and thoughtful, you’ve found more sense of morality whenever you look into his eyes deeply than when you look at other people.

“Lee Minho is making breakfast for my family ? What’s this ? Is World War III coming ? Is the world hanging on the verge of ending ?”

He shakes his head at you in disapproval. “I just wanted to do something nice in return to last night’s dinner. Your parents really didn’t have to go all the way to the supermarket just because of me.” And he secretly enjoys seeing you munching happily on the food that he makes. How your cheeks are bunched up when you accidentally take too much of a bite, how your eyes light up in joy when you melt into the taste. He loves you for being you, for going all out without trying to act like a lady, eating quietly and shit.

You think for a bit. “They all have a big appetite, plus they’re not picky so anything will do. Just try to work with things in the fridge that you find promising ?”

“Oh okay.” Minho shrugs before leaning forward to press a kiss on your forehead. “Go back to sleep please, I beg. Jetlag is killing me, or else I’m gonna have to kiss you again and again until you get tired of me and doze off.”

With coral cheeks, you muster the calmest voice possible. “Is that a challenge ? Because if so, kiss me before I kick you off the couch.”

He smirks at you. “If you’re willing to.” As he leans in closer, you can feel your confidence level decreasing dramatically, your heart feels like it’s running on a treadmill endless. You’re no longer brave enough to keep eye contact so your eyes are screwed shut at some point, waiting for his lips to collide with yours.

Suddenly his phone buzzes obnoxiously on the coffee table, making you two pull away in a hassle. “Sorry, I gotta take this.” Minho says sheepishly as he sits straight up and grabs his phone. The apologetic smile on his face drops when he sees the caller’s ID. He swipes right to answer, placing the cool device close to his ear. “Yeah, Hyunjin ?”

“Hyung, you’re going too far. Come back.”

eight.

It’s been a few weeks later, and your family can’t stop gushing over how lucky you are to find a boyfriend like Minho.

You start getting daily voice messages from your parents, asking if you’re taking good care of yourself, if Minho’s treating you well, if anything’s been hard lately. Oh boy you sure regret running away before because your parents keep checking up on you every two hours. If not for Minho, they would have made you move back to Australia for who knows how long.

With that being said, Minho is obligated to move in with you. But you’re not complaining at all because cuddling with him is naturally carved into you like second nature. Even Jisung and Changbin didn’t bother to question why you start to have two mugs by the sink, two pairs of slippers by the shoe rack and a foreign smell of cologne all over your couch. They’ve probably figured it out that you got yourself ‘a man’ since the night that you came back to the apartment in such a rush.

And from then, you wonder why you’ve never considered having a roommate before. There are always really shitty excuses inside your head like : what if your roommate has some kind of questionable habits, what if they’re secretly a part of some mafia organization ? But really, it’s because he’s Lee Minho, because you’re too utterly soft for him. Nonetheless, you did learn a few things from spending more time with him rather than locking yourself up with work.

The feeling of having someone waiting for you to come home is beyond heartwarming. And you’ve also learnt to use your time and effort on someone else rather than just yourself. It actually feels really nice because his presence brings more than just a sense of comfort and happiness to you. There’s something about him that’s irreplaceable. As if he’s your soulmate, that one person who adores you to the moon and back, who’s willing to bring out the best in you and deal with you when you’re at your lowest.

But the whole concept of soulmate is still debatable because life isn’t just peaches and cream, it’s roses and thorns.

“Something’s bothering you, tell me.” You make the sharpest of a turn to the left to snap Minho back to reality. You don’t like when people keep ignoring your questions.

“Nothing’s bothering me.” He answers flatly. Obviously, he’s lying because he’s only spoken to you seven words maximum since you started the car. “Follow-the-GPS-to-reach-the-destination.” That’s it. No more. No less.

You scoff. “Something’s clearly bothering you. I don’t need your mind reading crap to know what you’re thinking.” You’re trying so hard not to take an argument out on him, especially when you’re driving to somewhere you don’t even know. But Minho’s not dumb, you bet he already had everything planned out on his mind. There’s a reason for everything, so you don’t have anything against driving in the middle of the night, just because he insisted you to.

He voices. “I’m thinking about surprising you.” And when you glance at him sideways, there are those specks of playfulness glistening in his midnight orbs again. But there’s also something else, and it’s unfathomable. “Trust me, you’ll love it.” He reassures you with a somewhat forced smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Fine.” You sigh in defeat, carefully pulling over not to hit the tree by the road.

Minho jumps out of the vehicle first. “We’re here.” You roll your eyes at him playfully and follows not long after.

And the sight in front of your eyes leaves you speechless. Even in the eerie darkness, your eyes can still make out the vibrant display of multicolored flowers all over the green field. The sweet scent soon fills your nostrils, making your eyes go wide in awe. “Come on, over here.” Minho links his hand into yours and drags you along the dirt road, trying his best not to step on any flower. Once he stops, you realize that you’re in the middle of the field, surrounded by the most surreal things that you thought could only happen in fairy tales.

The sky represents a black curtain being draped over your entire universe, with milky swirls and glitter specks dancing elegantly in various patterns. It’s transcendental, you think. How the sight have all of your worries and concerns disintegrate into dust, how you’re here with him as time seems to stop when he looks at you with nothing but pure devotion in his eyes. You’re hanging by this moment, waiting for him to say something. “Do you like it ?” He breathes out ever so softly.

You nod repeatedly. “I love it, thank you, thank you, thank you !” Mixed emotions burst inside your chest and you unconsciously fall into his embrace as if you were meant to be there all along. You bury your head into the crook of his neck, letting his more than familiar cologne hug you like a warm blanket.

Minho opens his mouth to say something but snaps it close later on. The bitterness inside is making him nauseous, burying every last bit of courage to the bottom pit of his stomach. He has so much, so much to tell you yet nothing comes out right.

He’s the first to pull away. “I’m glad that you like it, Y/N.” Take good care of yourself, okay ?

“Of course I like it, it’s everything !” You smile, not noticing how there are tears brimming in the corners of his eyes when it’s so dark outside.

Minho tries to hide the shakiness in his voice. “Close your eyes, the stars will grant a wish to whoever has enough sincerity and purity.” You’ll be fine without me, will you ?

“A wish ? I guess…” You close your eyes, tightening the grip on Minho’s hands, accidentally ignoring how his hands are getting colder, and colder by the second. “There, I made a wish !” Your eyes fly open as you giggle happily. “We should come here more often, don’t you think ? Promise me that we’ll be here every week.” You extend your pinky finger outwards.

Minho nods, intertwining his finger with yours. “I promise.” I’ll miss you.

As a silent tear rolls down on his cheek, his orbs flash a shade of crimson red.

eight & ½.

Changbin cries out dramatically. “Y/N, a little help over here ? Hello ?” He’s struggling real hard to open the door while carrying the groceries all by himself.

You quickly snap out of it, running to help him with the whopping five paper bags in his arms. “Sorry, I just thought that I saw someone who looked familiar.”

He cranes his neck tiredly after stuffing the bags into the backseats of his Tesla. “Could be some guy who reached out to you before. You know how the industry works, if they want you, they gotta have you. So be careful, creepy people are literally everywhere.”

“Right..” You trail off and jump into his car, shutting the door close. Even when Changbin twists his key and drives away from the supermarket, you can’t help but turn your head constantly to see if there’s anyone. On the way out, you made eye contact with someone, who has an odd ray of red in their eyes. Normally, things like this would have crept you out but you found an unexpected sense of familiarity in those eyes. Perhaps you’ve met before ?

But why… red ?

“Hey Bin…” You start. “Do you believe in soulmates ?”

Changbin snickers. “What the fuck is wrong with you today ? Are you sick ?”

You wave your hand to brush the topic off. “You’re right, I stayed up until three last night, can really use a nap right now.” Maybe everything’s in your head after all.

But little did you know, from across the streets, the silhouette of a demon who once shared unforgettable memories with you is embedded onto the cold brick wall. Minho has his arms crossed in front of his chest, mind blank, eyes empty. He only dares to watch in silence as your friend drives you away, fighting back the voices inside his head that are yelling at him to just hug you, to see your smile, to hear your laughter.

Little did you know, he longs to be by your side again. Minho tried to force himself into hating you but he can’t. He can’t because you taught him how to love, because you mean far more than just the universe to him, because blaming hurts more than trying to forget you. But before things get out of hand, he managed to get a hold of himself and decided to cut ties with you for good.

This is for the better, he keeps telling himself.

People say that there’s no sorrow in the demons. Since joy and sorrow are like fire and ice, there’s no possibilities for them to exist in the same subject. Demons are believed to find joy in those who despise God’s commands, and rejoice over this kind of sinister power. Therefore, there’s no sorrow in the demons. Meaning, demons can never feel heartbroken because they simply don’t have one.

If so, then why can Minho hear something shattering into pieces inside his chest ? That’s because he’s experienced something other demons aren’t supposed to. He finally knows what it feels like to actually be ‘someone’ to someone, what it feels like to think of them all day and smile stupidly about it.

And that’s something other demons are fortunate enough to not get themselves into. Because they wouldn’t want to know how painful it is to not being able to be with their loved one. Demons attract other demons by their scents so if a demon fell in love with a mortal being, that one human will live in constant danger.

Not to mention, it’s going against God to fall in love with someone who’s so different, so out of reach. And Minho could never risk losing you to anything but he can risk it all to protect you.

“I just feel so fucking broken.”

“You’ll be fine.” Hyunjin gently places a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

But it is love after all… what can he do ?

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taexual · 4 years

Text

HOLIC - 49 | jb x reader

pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader

genre: enemies to lovers au | roommate au

warnings: angst (ONE LAST TIME, LET’S GO)

words: 4.7k

disclaimer: i do not own the gif, please let me know if it belongs to you, so i can give proper credit

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Jaebum watched you for a while after you asked the question, the echo of your voice ringing inside of his mind. Seeing you after nearly a week was too overwhelming. He couldn’t focus on just one emotion that he was feeling and the urge he had to cross the room and approach you overpowered everything else.

“I don’t—” he tried, resisting his own heart in order to remain true to his mind. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

But even despite what he said, he remained frozen in the same spot, not closing the door and not walking away from you.

“Please,” you said, the stinging pain in your heart translating itself into words, “I need you to know what really happened. I’m not—I don’t want you to immediately forgive me and move on. I just want you to know a-and to understand.”

“Don’t I already know everything I need to know?” he asked but still moved to a side—just slightly but that was enough for you to slip into the lounge room, away from the loud music.

In the brief second that it took for you to walk past him into the room – your shoulder brushing against his chest gently – you thought you were going to suffocate. The smell of his cologne, his side profile and the twin moles above his eye that you’d spent countless mornings staring at, his close proximity and just him, as a whole, brought back every moment of the life that you’ve shared with him and you immediately understood that walking away from this life—away from him—was going to be a task you would never have enough strength to finish.

“No, not everything,” you said as he closed the door. The two of you were back to where you’d been so many times before – in your own lost, broken, and exhausted world that pulsed with pain and sorrow and desperation. “Y-you know about these events I had to do. Well, that was Jiho’s idea. He insisted the gallery couldn’t invest in me if I wasn’t popular enough. It was all about media play. I thought that sort of made sense but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to establish my career by having my pictures taken with him—”

“I get that,” Jaebum interrupted. He’d had enough time to analyze every single one of your cryptic and vague answers to his questions about how your exhibition was going. He managed to put the pieces together himself. “I understand that you were working on your career. It was a way to get your own exhibition, that’s fine. It’s good. But faking a relationship while—”

You protested immediately. “I wasn’t—”

“Please,” Jaebum looked away. The utter lack of emotion in his voice scared you far more than any possible outcome of this conversation could. “He took you to all of these places to stir shit up on purpose. To draw more interest to you because you and him were there together.”

It was starting to become obvious that you wouldn’t have to talk about what happened since you saw Jiho at the gallery out of town. Even despite not giving Jaebum the detailed breakdown – or any sort of details about what you did, really – Jaebum still seemed to know everything. In the time you’ve spent preparing the right words to say to him, you’d forgotten to give him credit for his unrivaled perception skills.

“But there was no relationship,” you said. “There never was.”

“Right,” Jaebum continued, the hollowness behind his eyes taking you back to the night you told him about Jiho. You could feel your hands start to shake just like they did back then. “Except you went along with all that he was feeding the media.”

That was true and that’s why you were unable to find an excuse. “I-I was doing it to get the exhibition—”

He scoffed. “Because there was no other way, right?”

“Yes!” you agreed, your voice growing desperate and borderline manic. “You’d have left me behind, otherwise. I’d have—”

“What?” Jaebum’s voice had risen, too. Your accusation had clearly taken him off guard. “How would I leave you behind? I—”

“Oh, come on, you were already busy with your company dinners with executives and your meetings about the upcoming single…” you said, not trying to sound accusing but feeling like you did anyway. Pausing for a quick moment, you tried to continue in a softer voice, “you’re already working on an album. I was just trying to catch up with you so we could do this together. Like we wanted to.”

He narrowed his eyes and did not find a way to form a sentence for a minute or two.

“Okay,” he finally said then. “Yeah, so that makes it better, right?”

“It—”

“No, no, stop, it’s—” one of his hands squeezed the bridge of his nose as he exhaled slowly. “I just—God. I took you with me to everything that I was going through. I told you about all of it—like you said. I’ve welcomed you into my life and actively tried to include you in every single thing that was going on with me. And not just in terms of my career. I mean every thing. And you—well, fuck, clearly, I don’t mean enough for you to—”

He started to pace around the room – all while avoiding your eyes – but you had a feeling that the creaking sound wasn’t caused by the old floorboards. It was the sound of your heart breaking.

“No, Jaebum,” you stopped him before he could finish the sentence, “t-that’s not it at all. I’m—I’m horribly afraid of hurting you or ruining the things between us and that’s why I didn’t tell you. This fear was—it just took control of all of my decisions. I’m sorry, I—I should have never kept quiet about something that was this big. I never meant to hurt you like that, I just genuinely—stupidly—thought that this was the only way for me to do this. I thought that if I could endure those events with him, it would ensure a future for me. For us. A happy, successful future.”

“That’s built on a lie?”

You blinked, his raw words ricochetting off the walls of the empty room and hitting your chest. “Built on—”

“—on you, selling yourself out to Jiho?” he finished for you.

“I wasn’t—Jaebum, please. I don’t like him, either. I hate him, really. Nothing ever happened between him and me—honestly, just the thought of something happening makes me want to tear my hair out in disgust. It’s just--at first I didn’t tell you about this to spare your feelings. You were in such a good mood, I never wanted to ruin that. And then I-I was scared because you’d started to drift away from me – you were telling me about all of these new opportunities, all of these new people. Imagine how much worse it would have been if you were making it in the world, and I was still scrubbing the walls at my gallery per Eva’s orders.”

You realized that no matter which direction you went in, your words still sounded accusing. But before you could express yourself more clearly, Jaebum was already groaning in exasperation.

“At least, I was telling you about my life!” he snapped. “You are the one who tried to leave me behind, in the end.”

“I—that’s—I didn’t mean to make it sound like you’re the one to blame here,” you said carefully. “I know I fucked up. I genuinely believed that everything would have worked out, eventually. I thought that I could host that exhibition and we could put all of this shit behind us, not having to focus on it at all. I thought I could completely erase the part of my life that involved Jiho while I was still living in it and only now do I realize how big of a reality check I needed. No one can live and attempt not to live at the same time.”

Jaebum didn’t speak but you saw his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed. You took this as your cue to continue and say the words you’ve come to say.

“I just… I couldn’t shake these thoughts that you would have started to feel bad about talking about your achievements to me if I wasn’t achieving anything myself – that’s why I went along with what Jiho offered. Otherwise, y-you would have kept quiet about advancing your career so you wouldn’t upset me and, maybe, you would have found someone else to talk to,” you said and noticed that he opened his mouth – evidently ready to protest – so you continued louder, not letting him cut in, “you’d meet a lot of other people, a lot of similar people – aspiring singers – and they would listen to you. They would understand. You’d feel sorry for me then, maybe even try to help me. We would argue just like we used to, only this time, it would be so much bigger. We would—”

“Alright,” he couldn’t listen anymore. “I get it. Okay? You did this for your career. I get it.”

He didn’t just say that to get you to stop talking about all the hypothetical ways in which your relationship would have reached its end. He truly did understand your reasoning and, in any case, he wasn’t this upset about your choice to pull a publicity stunt with Jiho. What bothered him this whole week was the fact that he didn’t even know about this choice. Your voluntary silence in regards to your career was what hurt him the most and, when he allowed himself to unclench his muscles and finally glance at you, you saw the repercussions it had on him.

He looked exhausted. Vulnerable. Hurt.

“I didn’t want to keep it a secret,” you said slowly, your voice breaking when you needed it to be strong the most, “but there was nothing I feared more than losing you. Every time I was supposed to see Jiho, I felt sick. Every time I had to smile next to him, I was just about ready to die. I regretted it every step of the way and I wanted to tell you about it. I knew you’d tell me that I didn’t have to do this – that I could find a different way – but I feared that the end result would have been the same. My inability to keep up with you would have created a bottomless pit between us. It was already looming in the distance.”

“How long did you think you were going to keep doing this with him?” Jaebum asked but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer. Just this question, however, asked in a sensible tone, let you know that he was now hearing what you were saying and, as the gaps in the puzzle he’d pieced together began to fill, he was beginning to feel the tension in his chest recede.

“It was supposed to be just a few appearances,” you said. “He said it’d be good for me to make a name for myself but no one cared about that. I obviously wasn’t the first person he was dragging to these events and no one gave a shit about me. I was just his plus one.”

“So, why—”

“I finally decided to end this in the car on our way to Jackson’s event,” you began to respond, guessing what he was going to ask, “I knew this wasn’t going to work. I-I mean, it probably would have worked, eventually, but I’ve had enough. I didn’t want it to be like this. And then Jiho and I got into a fight and I got—I don’t know, confused? Distracted?—and I decided to wait until the end of the night before I told him I was done. I figured it’d be good for me to, at least, get to know some more relevant people before I gave up on everything I’ve been trying to work on.”

“But then Jackson ruined everything,” Jaebum pointed out.

You weren’t exactly sure how much Jackson had told Jaebum about your conversation but now didn’t feel like the right time to ask. You weren’t here to testify according to Jackson’s testimony. You were here to tell Jaebum the long-overdue truth.

“He didn’t ruin anything,” you said. “Jiho didn’t hear what Jackson and I talked about at that event.”

“Well, then what happened? How come we’re here?”

You took a deep breath.

“I ended it,” you said simply with a small shrug, “because I finally realized that none of this was ever going to be worth it. I ended it and then I quit my job at the gallery, too. I realized I’d made a mistake: I should have never stomped on all that I thought was right. I should have stuck with my morals. I realized where I was and what I was doing, and I didn’t want to be there anymore. I didn’t want to talk to Jiho anymore, let alone work with him,” you could feel yourself fire up as you talked, the emotions that had taken over you too difficult to control, “I didn’t even want to host a stupid fucking exhibition anymore. I just—I wanted you. And I no longer cared if I would've had to rob a construction site so I could build my own fucking gallery from the ground up and have the damn exhibition there, all on my own terms. I no longer cared if the exhibition would never even happen. I think, for a moment, I was hoping it would never happen because I didn’t think I deserved it. Because it made no sense if I didn’t have you. Nothing made sense if you weren’t with me.”

Jaebum couldn’t find enough air in the room to fill his lungs.

“Y-you—but why?” he asked, breathless and completely distraught. “You could have kept going. Like you said, if you’d have endured him a little more, you could have had your own exhibition just like you wanted. Why tell me and break the deal with Jiho off—”

“Because I love you,” you cut him off and for the next minute, the two of you listened to the heavy silence of the room, hearing how, beat by beat, your hearts returned to the harmonious rhythm.

He didn’t say anything – he was afraid – and you didn’t think you’d manage to find the strength to talk either, but the look on his face pushed you to open your mouth.

“I-I love you so fucking much, I’d rather throw away my only shot at a successful future than lose you,” you said, very uncertain about breaking the silence but gradually growing more confident once you saw the old glimmer in Jaebum’s eyes return, “I love you so much, I can’t pretend to be a different person with a different set of values, because every step along the way, I know that you would never support me like this,” you dared to take a step closer to him and nearly tripped over your feet when he stayed still, not pulling away from you, “I love you so much, I would rather stand behind and quietly watch you drift away from me, further and further every day, than risk drowning our relationship for the sake of something as trivial as ambition.”

You were standing right in front of him now, the two of you breathing each other’s oxygen like you’ve done so many times before.

“That shit means nothing to me in comparison to you,” you said quietly, the corners of your eyes wet with tears. “I don’t want anything else. Not like that. Never like that. And I’m so fucking sorry it took me this long to see this. I’m so sorry I didn’t immediately—I’m really sorry. I’m sorry I hesitated for so long. I-I waited and waited until I started to feel as if I could either have my exhibition or you and, if that was the case, I didn’t care about the fucking exhibition. I wanted you. I’ve only ever wanted you.”

“F-fuck. You didn’t tell me. You kept quiet—”

“I know. Fuck, I know. And I’m sorry, Jaebum,” you kept going, repeating the apologies over and over as tears slid down your cheeks, leaving a glistening path of sorrow in their wake. Ignoring your own feelings, you focused on collecting all of the pain you’ve caused him. You’d have spent the entire night apologizing for every bit of it—no matter how small and irrelevant. “I’m so fucking sorry. I love you and I can’t think straight. I’ve never—you’re the only—fuck, I thought I was keeping it all to myself because I didn’t want to ruin your happiness. I don’t even know why that made sense to me—I-I’m sorry. I should have never kept you in the dark about this. I wanted—I want you next to me through everything I go through. I do, really, and I’m so sorry. I should have—”

“Please stop,” he asked shakily, “don’t apologize anymore. Please, just—l-let me kiss you. I can’t breathe.”

The words seemed heaven-sent -- you could almost hear a grandiose tune crescendo in the background but that could have just been your heart exploding -- and the speed with which your hands wrapped themselves around his neck as his lips found yours, stopped the earth from turning. The feeling of his body pressed against yours and every single touch of his fingers against your skin was filled with emotions so strong, it could have rearranged every star in the Milky Way.

You could hear the stars exploding in the night sky outside and you could taste the supernovas on his lips. You kissed him back, reading every painful memory he kept as your fingertips brushed against the shivering skin on the nape of his neck. You could feel the love for him burst in your chest, extending far into the other galaxies and returning right back, right to this empty room, where one single soul was beginning to patch itself back together again.

You never wanted to pull away and Jaebum held you like he wasn’t ever going to let you. His tongue slid under yours until the kiss was almost as deep as the love in his heart and as strong as his grip on your waist. He kissed you like he was never going to leave. Like everything was going to be okay.

When you pulled away, your lungs were heavy with the air you had both struggled to find in this room and your chests were full of the love you’ve held yourselves back from sharing. You leaned in, kissing him again – not taking the feeling of his lips against yours for granted but still not being able to get enough of him – and he stopped you from pulling away by kissing you harder because the thought of not having kissed you for so long suddenly hurt much more than anything else.

You were laughing when he broke the kiss to inhale, leaning his forehead against yours. His hands were still on your waist as if the only way to make sure that you were really here, was to hold you as close as possible.

“Y-you said you quit your job,” he mentioned after a moment, his eyes scanning every inch of your face to check how much of you has changed while he wasn’t there to see it. “Are you sure about that?”

“Oh. Yeah. It’s okay. I’m looking for a new one,” you said and then could not resist adding, “maybe you can support a poor girl with the money you’ll get when your debut album goes platinum.”

Jaebum laughed and, for a quick moment, it felt like you’ve died and appeared right at the gates to heaven. The thought that you’d risked never hearing the sound of his laughter again was impossible to bear.

“Hey, but what about the bottomless pit, looming in the distance of our relationship?” he asked.

You hated the metaphor when you said it but you wanted to stomp it into the ground when he repeated it. He was probably never going to let the dramatic flair in your speech go but even the possibility of him mocking you for the rest of your life excited you.

“I spit in it,” you said, dead-serious. “And anyone who tries to get to us will be drowned in said spit.”

Jaebum frowned but the smile didn’t leave his lips. “That is disgusting and very violent.”

“Every time I end up almost losing you, I become more aggressive,” you confessed in a humorous tone but you weren’t joking about anything you were saying. “Watch out, I’ll kill a man for you one day.”

He laughed again – and the heavenly gates opened up even wider – shaking his head. “I hope that won’t be necessary.”

You cleared your throat, the moment’s banter broken by the heaviness in your chest that, frankly, might never go away despite how tonight ended.

“I hope so, too,” you said and your hands detached themselves from around his neck, sliding down his chest until you felt him reluctantly release your waist. You needed more distance if you wanted to tell him the things you’ve gotten too overwhelmed to say before. “I truly am sorry, Jaebum. I never ever wanted to keep any secrets from you, I—”

“I know,” he said almost reflexively. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not.”

He nodded, agreeing with your disagreeing eyes. “Yeah, alright. It’s not. But I love you. I don’t know what’s okay anymore when it comes to you.”

The shivers that ran down your body after he said the three words seemed to buzz so loudly, you couldn’t hear your thoughts anymore, let alone think about the power you held over him.

“I… I’m scared of the lengths I might go in order not to lose your love,” you admitted slowly, your stomach clenching and twisting and turning as you said the words that seemed right but felt so terrifying. “I’m scared I might keep proving to be unworthy of it.”

Jaebum lifted his hands to reach yours – still resting on his chest – and he squeezed them, pressing them into his chest harder until you could feel his heartbeat.

“My love isn’t that noble of a thing,” he said.

“It is to me,” you insisted. “I know you don’t give it to just anyone and I hate to think that I almost proved to you that all of your fears about this – about us – were rational.”

You were afraid to look him in the eyes but he refused to speak if you weren’t.

“They weren’t rational,” he said once your gazes finally met.

“W-what?” you frowned. “But—”

“They never were rational,” he said, the beating of his heart accentuating every word. “There was never a legitimate reason for me to be afraid of what would happen to us next. I can’t be afraid of life. And I know that for certain now because you told me you loved me a-and you meant it. You’re the first person who told me that and meant it.”

“Jaebum,” you whispered, scared to talk louder than his heart was beating. “You will probably never meet a person who fucks up more than I do. I make mistakes so stupid, it’s impossible I haven’t accidentally killed myself yet. And I always realize that what I’m doing is wrong when it’s too late.”

He watched you before admitting, “I don’t see your point.”

“I love you but I don’t want you to feel like you owe me to love me back,” you confessed, getting your hands out from under his and dropping them to your sides. The words you were saying to him now were a permission for him to leave and touching him felt too much like holding him back from making a rational, sensible decision. “You deserve a relationship where you wouldn’t have to try so hard. A relationship where you would be treated right and would never have to overcome all of these huge obstacles in order to be happy. A-and I love you enough to leave if you tell me to leave.”

He didn’t respond right away and, for every second that he was quiet, the fear spread faster and faster inside of you. You would certainly go if he told you to but you were scared of how many pieces of yourself you’d leave with him when you walked away.

“God,” Jaebum finally said. “You do make painfully dumb decisions, that part was true.”

“I—” your eyebrows had risen as these weren’t the words you’d expected him to say. “Yeah, alright. I do.”

“If you left me, ever,” Jaebum said, “that would be the mistake you’d realize you’d made too late.”

You tried not to focus on the excited whimpering of your heart. “I-I just don’t want you to feel like—”

“You are indescribably thick—” Jaebum interrupted.

“Okay, now that stung a little—”

“—for ever thinking that I wouldn’t want to spend the rest of my life with you,” he finished, taking your hands back into his so you wouldn’t cut him off again.

“Y-you…” your breath hitched, “you’d want that?”

“Of course,” Jaebum said, pulling you back closer to him as final proof that he was absolutely not going to let you leave. “No relationships sail smoothly from beginning to end. There are obstacles everyone has to overcome so they could be together in the end.”

“But these obstacles, they—they’re never this big for others,” you weren’t sure why you kept talking but it still didn’t feel like all was said and done. You’ve already made so many apologies about keeping secrets from him that it didn’t feel right to stop talking before you’ve truly said everything. “We’ve gone through so much and I’ve always been scared that you and I might have an expiration date. I don’t want to put you through any more suffering because of me, and, God knows, I can’t walk away from you but maybe being with someone shouldn’t be so hard.”

His grip on you only tightened.

“Maybe it shouldn’t,” he said. “But if it is, then you’re the only person I want to go through all of those hard times with. Maybe that’s my painfully dumb decision.”

You gave him a look. “Ha.”

“I love you,” Jaebum smiled, his voice sounding far less strained than it did when you first came here tonight as if a thousand pounds have been lifted from the inside of his throat. “And if this love is exactly what kills me, then, at least, I’ll die knowing that you love me, too.”

“I do,” you promised, smiling when he grimaced at his own choice of words. “Always.”

It was what he needed to hear. It was all that he needed to hear and he leaned in to capture your lips with his in a kiss that sealed the promises made here.

Jaebum could recognize his own vulnerability when it came to you – not that it mattered when your lips were against his – and he was partially convinced that he’d already forgiven you long before you came to see him tonight. But the fact that you did come only proved to him that you were worthy of his forgiveness.

You would've had to be extremely naïve to believe that you'd immediately move past the weeks of silence and the days of pain. All of it might still return to haunt you in the future but it was okay because, with every shared kiss, the hurt and the pain would recede until, eventually, it’d turn into a memory. A memory that made you stronger.

You’ve made promises to each other tonight. Promises to fight together, even if sometimes you couldn’t help but return to your very roots and argue with each other instead. However, at the end of every fight, what you would truly be defending would not be your own interest or your own feelings. You’d be defending this relationship. Defending your heart and his heart, permanently tied together with rusty, tortured--and yet unbreakable--chains.

You would have screamed, suffered, and sacrificed the whole world to keep his heart safe and he would have done all of that for you.

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yikeswtfmate · 4 years

Text

The Duck Debacle

Summary: Bucky is trying to finish writing an essay, but Y/N has other plans.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (College AU)

Warnings: swearing; more dumbassery

A/N: Yuhhhhhhhh I’m on a roll these days. I guess this is what happens when you’re unemployed and no one is hiring in the middle of December!

Happening a few years later after this.

masterlist // Watermelon Sugar - another part

Bucky nearly falls off his chair when his phone starts vibrating on his desk. One thing he has learned through his four years of studying law at college was to always completely turn off his phone when he's about to immerse himself in writing an important paper that he knows will take all night. Unfortunately, he forgot this time and his train of thought is entirely lost right when he had only 5 sentences left to write in the conclusion. He sighs and starts digging through books, papers and notebooks, cursing his luck because he knows there is no way in hell that particular train of thought will come back to him. Not even after the last 3 coffees he's drank since 2 am.

He finally finds the phone under a book on skills and reasoning, a wrap with a half eaten sandwich and what might've been a chocolate muffin that right now just looks like mush. Y/N's name flashes on the screen and he looks at the clock with a frown. It's 5 in the morning, which means she either hasn't gone to sleep yet or is going through one of her "productive" phases again when she joins Steve for his runs.

"I fucked up." She says, before Bucky can even open his mouth.

He sighs and rubs his eyes, suddenly feeling all the tiredness that eluded him until now through a miraculous mix of caffeine, anxiety, and focus.

"On a scale of The Faucet Fiasco to That Time We're Not Allowed to Mention, how badly did you fuck up?"

"Uh, remember The Chair Catastrophe? Around maybe the same level?" The uncertainty in her voice doesn't help ease the alertness that starts coursing through his veins.

"Shit." Bucky stands up and makes his way to the door of the apartment, picking his keys, wallet and shoes as quietly as possible so as not to wake up Sam, although the idiot deserves it after blasting music until midnight.

"Where are you?"

He climbs in his car, and already starts driving towards the hospital she indicates. She rambles on about a duck for some reason, but Bucky doesn't really listen to her, focusing on driving as fast as the speed limit allows him. He's not sure whether letting her speak helps more with her nerves or his, but he manages to end the call after he promises he'll see her in a second.

The nurse at the reception directs him to a room on the ground floor, which is honestly useless, because he can already hear her laugh through one of the closed doors.

The first thing he can see is Steve in the chair next to her. The smile on his face is immediately erased by a panicked look when he sees Bucky fuming in the doorway. Getting up from his chair, he steps towards his friend with his hands raised.

"What the fuck happened now?" Bucky demands.

"Buck, I swear it wasn't my fault this time." Steve tries to reason, but Bucky ignores him and stalks towards the bed, where Y/N is hiding under the cover. He can only see her eyes peeking out, a purple bruise on her forehead and he hopes he imagined the cast on her left leg.

"What did you do now?" His voice is accusatory, but all three of them know Bucky can never stay mad at her.

"In my defence, I was left unsupervised." Even though her voice is muffled by the blanket, he can hear her pout.

"Explain. Now, or I'll start kicking Steve." Bucky warns.

Y/N's eyes widen and she shuffles in her bed so as to better show him the cast. Steve takes it as his cue to leave them alone and gets out of the room with some muttered excuse.

"I fell in the lake." Now Bucky hopes even more that he hadn't heard her properly.

"You- you fell..."

"In the lake, yes." She confirms.

"Care to elaborate on that?"

"I already told you on the phone!" Y/N whines and tugs the cover back up to her eyes.

Bucky sits on the vacated chair with a sigh. He looks at her expectantly, waiting for an explanation. He is way too tired for this. On the other hand, he thinks idly, he should've expected something like this to happen. She was left unsupervised after all, even though Steve apparently was there.

"I went for a run with Stevie. When I got to the bridge, he was way ahead of me." Bucky nods in understanding, of course Steve left her behind, the man shows no mercy when it comes to his runs. "And there was this small little duck just passing by and I wanted to say hi so I leant over the railing and fell in the water, spraining my ankle in the process."

"You wanted to say hi to the duck."

Y/N nods her head vigorously. He crosses his arms, unable to form an appropriate response. He's shocked into realising that he's more grateful that she didn't drown or worse, like it is known to have happened, rather than worried about her lack of common sense. To be fair, after knowing her for all these years, he's more than accustomed to her dumb ass, so this doesn't come as a surprise.

"What's with the bruise on your forehead though?"

"Oh, that? I walked into a glass door yesterday."

Bucky lets out the longest exhale known to man.

"I'm sorry I bothered you while you were finishing your essay, although I told you not to pull an all-nighter. Wanna lie down for a bit?" She looks at him with a tentative smile and scuttles over in the bed.

Slowly, and feeling as if his every single joint decided to let him know they did not appreciate the 12 hours of sitting in a chair, he stretches on the small bed. He puts an arm around Y/N, her head and arm on his chest. Bucky flicks her nose with his free hand and she yelps.

"I can't let you by yourself for even an hour."

Steve comes back with three coffees that he's more than sure will taste of bitter brown water. When he enters the room he finds them sleeping, their faces almost touching. He shakes his head and wonders when will they get their shit together already. He snaps a picture of them and sends it to the group chat with the caption 'Idiots.' Two hours later, Bucky makes that photo his lock screen.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic

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thinkyoureholy · 5 years

Text

Fragile Figures [7]

Pairing : Choi San / [fem] Reader

Genre : Angst, Violence, Language, Fluff, Smut, Character Death?, Mafia! AU, Hired Assassin! AU

Words : 2.4k

Pt 1. Pt 2. Pt 3. Pt 4. Pt 5. Pt 6. Pt 7. Pt 8. Pt 9. Pt 10. Pt 11. Pt 12.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

-San's P.O.V-

I stared down at our hands in shock, only snapping out of it when I heard her speak. I moved my gaze up to look at her face, my heart skipping a beat at the look in her eyes. I could've sworn I stopped breathing for a second. Fuck, this is bad, really bad. I've always been affected by anything she's ever done...but not like this, never like this.

"San?"

I hummed out almost immediately when I heard my name fall from her lips. She offered me a gentle and warm smile, squeezing my hand in hers. I exhaled shakily through slightly parted lips, my heart about ready to burst through my chest. Is this what euphoria feels like? Shit, shit, shit, calm down. Why are you like this? You've gone further than this with her yet you're about ready to pass out the moment she holds your hand? Grab a hold of yourself, Choi San.

Shit. Well, there goes that plan. Butterflies erupted in my stomach when she leaned forward, her free hand combing my hair out of my face before tracing the length of my jaw. We've almost fucked and I'm about to lose it over small touches like these? What the fuck? No...it's not because of the way she's touching me...it's that look she has in her eyes, I've never seen it before, not even when she kissed me almost two weeks ago. I'd kill to see that look in her eyes everyday for the rest of my life.

"You okay?" She asked with a chuckle, "You look a little out of it…"

She went to pull her hand out of mine but I tightened my hold, keeping her hand in place, "No...no I'm wait--I...I mean yeah I-"

I shut my mouth after a few seconds of stumbling over my words. I sighed heavily, rubbing my hand over my face in embarrassment, hearing her try to stifle a laugh. A smile tugged at the corners of my lips at the sound, another sigh leaving my mouth before I looked back up at her.

"I'm fine."

She chuckled for the second time before falling silent, her eyes scanning my face, as if she was searching for something.

"Y/N...y'know...not that I'm not loving this because believe me I'm over the moon," I started, gesturing to out hands, "But is something up? You seem a bit different today."

"I just...finally gave in today."

I furrowed my brow, tilting my head, "What do you mean?"

She gave a small smile before suddenly closing the distance between us, stealing a kiss from my lips. I groaned softly against her lips, leaning in to deepen the kiss. I went to cup her cheek with my other hand but just before my fingers made contact with her skin I froze. I hesitated, my lips now still against hers. I pulled away somewhat reluctantly, keeping my eyes closed as I rested my forehead against hers. I let out a heavy sigh, clenching my free hand into a tight fist, my nails digging into my palm.

"What's wrong?"

I bit my bottom lip before pulling away from her completely, finally opening my eyes, "Nothing...I...I just didn't want to rush anything…"

Please believe me. Please don't try to see through my lie.

She furrowed her brows, tilting her head to the side ever so slightly.

No, no don't do that. I can't find it in myself to lie to you when you look at me like that.

She opened her mouth to speak but I stopped her before she could get a word out, "It's just that I--I don't want to do this on the floor y'know."

Her face cleared up the moment those words fell from my lips, a chuckle leaving her own. That chuckle turned into a full body laugh as she doubled over, tears coming to her eyes the harder she laughed. I simply stared at her in silence, a bit stunned to see her laughing this hard but at the same time, I couldn't help but smile fondly as I watched her. I watched her with what I could only imagine was pure adoration in my eyes, my heart skipping a beat at the look she had in her own eyes.

"Choi San...every time I think I have you figured out you surprise me once again."

I rose a single brow at her words but she just grinned in response. Without another word she leaned forward, placing a gentle and lingering kiss on my chest. I closed my eyes for the duration of the kiss, enjoying the feeling I got from it.

"Y'know...you're my favorite puzzle...and I can't wait until you're completely. And then--then I'll finally be able to see and know you, all of you."

I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat at hearing her words. I gave her a tight lipped smile, shutting out the words that echoed in my mind in response to what she just said.

You know you'll never be as important to her as Yunho. She's said so herself, no one comes before her Yunho.

I stood outside in the rain, waiting for them to come out. Y/N had given me a few names a little over an hour ago and I had never been happier to get out of that house. I couldn’t stay there for another second without exploding. I know my anger is misplaced but my jealousy isn’t. I hated even admitting that I was jealous in the first place. I had never felt jealousy this strong before but I guess there’s a first time for everything. I scoffed at just the thought of being jealous of that idiot, my fists clenched so tightly my knuckles had turned white. I set my jaw, images of those two together clouding my mind as the rain continued to pour down, soaking through my clothes but I didn’t bother finding shelter from the rain. In fact, I welcomed the rain, it helped cool me off in a way, most times but today it just wasn’t helping.

While standing in the rain I heard light footsteps approaching from behind. If I wasn’t as skilled as I was I wouldn’t have been able to hear them over the rain but nothing escaped my ears.

“What do you want?” I asked, my annoyance carrying over.

He chuckled, placing a hand on my shoulder, one I shrugged off almost immediately.

“Go home. I’m not in the mood for you tonight.”

Again, he chuckled, coming to stand next to me, “My my my...what’s gotten into you? It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you so riled up. Let me guess...trouble in paradise?”

I turned to glare at him, a wicked grin spreading across his face at the look in my eyes, “I’m warning you...back the fuck off.”

He raised his hands up in mock surrender, that grin still plastered on his face. Man, did I want to punch that smile right off his face. As much as I wanted to do that I held myself back, going back to staring at the building across the street, wanting them to just come out already so I could blow off some steam.

“Why are you here?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.

“No reason.”

I turned to look at him once more, the look on my face impassive, “Don’t give me that bullshit. Everything you do is for a reason. Now, answer my question.”

He said nothing for a moment before turning away from me, looking towards the building I had been keeping an eye on this whole time, “I think your targets are walking out…”

I cursed lowly, looking to see that he was right but before I went to them I muttered some words to him, “Don’t think this conversation is over. You better be here when I get back.”

And with that I left, reaching into my coat pocket and pulled out two knives. I ran up to them silently, even in the rain my footsteps were silently. They had no idea I was even there until it was too late. I sliced through the first man easily, my knife cut through his jacket, leaving behind a huge clash across his chest as I buried my other knife into the side of his neck, giving it a twist before pulling it out. The blood that stained my hands with each person I killed was watched away by the rain...but that didn't erase the fact that their blood still stained my hands...and it always will. I cut, slashed, and stabbed every last one of them until they were all scattered on the ground, their blood mingling with the rain.

I sighed out heavily, leaning down to wipe the blade of my knives on the coat of the woman closest to me. Once put away I took a few steps away from the pile of bodies before collapsing to the ground. I hung my head, breathing heavily, the sound of the rain drowning my heavy breathing.

"So are you going to tell me why you're here or not?" I asked, not bothering to look over at him, knowing he was still standing where I left him.

I heard him chuckle before seeing him crouch down beside me out of the corner of my eye, "I need your services."

I said nothing for awhile. Silence fell over us as my eyes roamed over the dead bodies not too far away from me. Finally, I looked up, staring at him through my drenched hair.

"Who is it this time?"

He smirked as he pulled out a piece of paper, handing it to me without a word. I took it, a frown immediately making its way onto my face at the single name written in black ink. Feeling my blood begin to boil the longer I stared at the name I tore the paper to pieces, throwing the pieces back at him.

"Find someone else to do it or do it yourself."

"Oh ho...you're declining a job?" He paused to whistle, a beaming smile on his face but that smile was anything but warm, it was as cold as ice, "I never thought I'd live to see the day where you refuse to do a job I give you. And you're declining knowing how much I pay...hell I'm even willing to pay you triple the amount I usually give you."

"You can offer me as much as you like and I still wouldn't do it." I shot back, the fire in my eyes only burning hotter the longer I stared at him.

"Man...she's sunk her claws in you too? The enchantress strikes again...I'm impressed."

"Careful." I warned, poking my tongue against the inside of my cheek to try and control myself.

"So you really won't do it?"

"No." I replied curtly before rising to my feet, "Give me her name again and I'll kill you myself."

He chuckled darkly, standing to his full height as well as he stared intently into my eyes, "It was worth a shot wasn't it?"

"I'm not your fucking lapdog anymore. Don't come looking for me again."

He grinned, combing his wet hair out of his face, "Wouldn't want Y/N to think you're doing shit behind her back, huh? Okay. I get it. Now I know where your loyalties really lie...with her. I can't say I'm surprised really...she had me hooked years ago as well, it took a while to free myself."

I stayed quiet as I glared at him, watching the grin slowly fall off his face.

"What surprises me more is you've decided to move in with them, with her. It's only been like what a month, two months? And you're already playing house? Pathetic." He spat out, his words dripping with disgust, "You're not the cold blooded killer I trained anymore."

I set my jaw, my nostrils flaring as I trained to control myself, "I suggest you get out of my sight before I show you what exactly you trained me to do."

He gave me a smug smile, staring into my eyes, challenging me until he finally turned on his heel. I watched him leave, clenching my teeth so hard I thought I might chip them. Just before he was out of sight I called out to him.

"Kanda!"

He froze at the sound of his name but he didn't turn around to face me.

"This is the only time I'll let you go with your life. Approach me again and I'll slit your throat," I all but growled out before adding, "And I swear to you...touch Y/N and I'll not only kill you I'll skin you alive, torture you until you're begging for death."

He chuckled at my words, his shoulders shaking ever so slightly, "I look forward to it."

Even after he left I stayed where I was. I kept my head bowed, staring at my hand as I twirled a knife around aimlessly. Soon after a small puddle began to form right in front of me, showing me my reflection, a distorted one but a reflection of myself nonetheless. And I absolutely hated what I saw. I set my jaw, twirling the knife around once more before gripping at the hand tightly. Without thinking I jabbed my knife into the ground, straight through my own reflection. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding once I realized what I had done, my hands beginning to shake ever so slightly. I inhaled deeply, trying to clear my mind but everything just became more of a jumbled mess.

I felt all sorts of different emotions running through my veins, all this being a little bit too much for me. But there was one emotion that was stronger than the others...and it was guilt. I felt guilty...guilty for keeping so many secrets from Y/N. At the time I didn’t think it was any of her business to know my secrets but the moment I found out that the Kanda she hated was the Kanda I knew that guilt had been weighing heavy on my shoulders. And now more than ever I wanted to tell her but I knew she’d hate me for keeping something this important from her. Everything that had happened between the two of us would crumble right before my eyes and I...I didn’t want that. I wanted to stay by her side. I was only deluding myself into thinking she’d never find out but I knew she’d find out eventually...it was just a matter of when and if I’ll be prepared for the hateful words she’d surely throw my way...

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hadestownmodern · 4 years

Text

dont have sex u will get pregnant and get made fun of by persephone

Hi guys! @dilforpheus here! I want to preface that the first segment of this was written before the banter on Instagram, but once I saw it I had to incorporate it. There is one final segment with WAY too many spoilers to share yet!

This friendship/semi maternal relationship between Eurydice and Persephone is arguably my favorite in the ENTIRE modern au.

The exams were passed back with no particular ceremony. Just Persephone turning them over on Student’s desks, curling writing on the front projecting a number as to how well a student did. Eurydice wasn’t particularly paying attention. She didn’t sleep much the night before and her back was absolutely killing her. She wasn’t even sure how she was going to make it through the next fifty-seven minutes of Persephone lecturing her on social structure in some specific midwestern town and the obscure sociological study that was performed on middle schoolers in the region.

Eurydice barely notices when Persephone puts her returned exam in front of her, and most certainly misses the smirk on her features as she hands back the papers. Eurydice flips it over to see her grade- 87, adequate- before flipping through the exam to see what she missed. She notices that one corner is bumpier than the other, and flips to see what is interrupting the pages.

There, staples to the corner of her exam, is a single condom. Not much use now that there is a staple through the middle. In persephone’s swirling cursive is written

“You, like the girls in this study, could benefit from these -Seph”

Dumbfounded, Eurydice looked up to see Persephone smirking at her as she returned to her laptop in the front of the room .

“Are you fucking with me, Stephanie?” Eurydice mumbled, turning the paper to look at Persephone. “Jokes on you, i’m allergic to latex.” She quips, disregarding the fact she was fully in class in front of people she didn’t know. Fuck ‘em, she’d never see them again after this semester anyway. Persephone was going to be in her life forever.

“Excellent point. I’ll remember that for next time.”

They ignore the gaping looks of her classmates, and the murmured whispers as Persephone goes back to teaching and beginning the new unit.

“What did she just call her?” “Did she lowkey call Eurydice a whore?”

It’s halfway through class, not even a full 30 minutes into the lecture when Eurydice is grasping the edge of the desk so tightly her knuckles were white. Her breathing is labored, but only enough that a trained eye would see. She isn’t even taking notes as Persephone tosses a keyring at her. “Get out of here, you look like shit.”

Persephone is erasing the board before Eurydice can process it, grasping the key ring in her fingers.

“No, i’m staying. I have to learn this eventually before you give me an 87 again”

Persephone rolls her eyes before shutting her laptop. “Fine. Class is over.”

Noone else in the class argues as they quickly pack up their things and scramble out of the classroom, short “bye” and “have a good weekends” pour out of their mouths as Persephone watches them go. She sits at the now empty desk beside Eurydice and runs a hand over her hair. “Is it your back again… Orpheus told me it’s been bothering you recently.”

Eurydice only nods, letting out a shaky breath. ‘You didn’t need to end class-”

“Well you weren’t leaving, and you were distracting me. I was afraid you were gonna pass out right here.”

Eurydice laughs half heartedly, and starts to put her stuff in her bag. “Thank you, Perstephanie.”

Persephone put an arm around her shoulder and rubbed her shoulder. “You know, if you used a condom, you wouldn’t be having this problem.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Are you fucking serious right now?” Eurydice pulled out the tissue paper, pulling a single box of condoms out. Attached was a note, in Persephone’s flourished cursive.

“So next birthday you don’t have to be pregnant -Seph. P.s. the real present is a vacation where you can put these into use. “

“I’m just saying, twenty two is way more fun when you don’t have feet you can’t see.” Persephone is on the other side of the bar, pouring herself an extra drink to toast to Eurydice, where she herself could not. “We could be drinking on the beach, but no, you drank two glasses of wine at my house and ended up in bed with my nephew.”

“Oh fuck off, You set me up for that-”

“EuRyDiCe! PeRsEpHonE!” Orpheus’ voice cracks from the other end of the bar at the same time a shot glass slips from his fingers and shatters on the ground. “What...whats going on? Why are you fighting?”

His hazel eyes are wide as they flick between the two most important women in his life who are seemingly arguing over..a gift? Their impending child? “I thought you liked each other!”

Eurydice reached out and grabbed his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We do, Orpheus. We’re just messing around.”

“We do this in class all the time!” Persephone promised, squeezing his shoulder. “And you clearly didn’t listen when I taught you what safe sex was all those years ago. Maybe it’ll get through to her.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

There’s a gentle knock on the door that startles Eurydice, who pulls her eyes away from her daughter. A couple of hours old and she already seemed to shift the tilt of her world’s axis. She’s finally showered and in something comfortable when Orpheus stepped out to grab something to eat- namely, bring her fries from that diner down the street. She deserved it, dammit. Eurydice looks up to see Persephone in the doorway, waving and smiling brightly.

“Hey sunshine, can I come in?” Persephone peaks in, genuine joy on her face as she watched Eurydice. So young, but in the short time she’s known her, she’s seen her grow into a completely different woman. “Everyone else will be here soon..Junie’s with my mom..but I wanted to see you.” Yes, she was overjoyed to see this baby that belonged to the boy she raised, but her priority was currently on the woman holding her. She wasn’t about to let her get overlooked in all the excitement of the baby.

“Yeah, Yeah of course… I’m trying to get the hang of feeding her, but then she fell asleep. And they keep telling me to sleep when she does. But I can’t seem to stop looking at her…”

Persephone sat on the end of the bed, near Eurydice but not daring to crowd her personal space. “No, no I understand completely. I didn’t even put Junie down for about two weeks. Wouldn’t even let my mama hold her..” She rests her hand on Eurydice’s knee with a smile. “So a girl, huh? Does she have a name yet?

“Don’t act like you didn’t know.” Eurydice teased, running her finger over the baby’s nose with a lazy smile. “Your mother knows everything. But yes. I can’t believe it. I love her so much already, and I’ve barely known her three hours...we can’t name her. Nothing seems good enough..I’ve called her french fry for months now.”

“Even you’re starting to believe in her magic. That’s impressive. And a name will come to you. Well, My mother named Junie. No way in hell did my husband pick the name Juniper.” Persephone watched the way Eurydice didn’t even look at her, unable to drag her eyes away from the tiny person she held in the crook of her arm. “How are you, honey. And don’t give me that fine, bullshit.”

“i...I’m so happy. I love her so much and I love Orpheus so much and- i’m so tired.” Eurydice admits, letting out a sigh. “I love her so much, and I can’t even describe how happy I am. But i’m tired and I didn’t realize how much pain i’d still be in.. and it’s like her gums are razor blades and I don’t think i’m every going to physically be capable of having sex again, not to mention why would Orpheus even want to and- I’m so tired but I can’t look away from her! I can’t put her down. She’s been apart of me for so long.” She’s crying before she realizes it, warm tears running down her face. She hiccups as she feels the baby starting to move in her arms and almost cries harder. How was she supposed to do this if she was already exhausted?

Persephone is closer to her, tucking black curls behind her ear before wiping at her cheeks. “It’s okay, Eurydice, it’s okay. I understand. I really do. I felt guilty for being tired, for not being on top of the game all the time. I worked so hard to have her, how dare I be anything less than 100%.” She pulled her head to her chest, stroking Eurydice’s soft curls as she held her. Eurydice needed a mother, she needed a mother to care about her, and Persephone was more than glad to fill her part. “”I would take showers that were exactly three minutes long. And for 180 seconds I would sob. Because how dare I be anything less that grateful. But fuck, I just wanted a nap for more than two hours at a time. And to not feel like a cow. So I get it.”

Persephone kisses the top of Eurydice’s head, feeling the girl’s body just shake as she cried into her. Of course she kept it in. Women were trained to think they could show nothing but joy that day, when in reality the emotional highs and lows came like the changing tide. “It’s okay. You’re going to be the best mom. You are allowed to feel things, Eurydice” She promises, allowing herself a glance down at the incredibly small little girl Eurydice was clutching as if her life depended on it. “She’s so beautiful already. Looks just like you…”

“She looks like a potato alien, you can say it!” Eurydice whined, hiding her face in Persephone’s shoulder.

“Well..all babies do. But you ate so many fries what do you expect other than a potato?” It’s teasing, and light, and the way Perspehone lightens the mood. She won’t dare ask to hold the baby, not with the way Eurydice anchors herself by holding her.

“I feel like I got punched in the stomach with at least six knives and then someone ripped out whatever balances my emotions. All that while feeling like a dairy cow mixed with the happiest person in the world.” Eurydice tries to describe, laughing just a little as she wiped her tears away. “I’m a mess.”

“Well, you know, all of that could have been prevented with a condom. Which, by the way-” She pulled out a card and handed it to her. “Heres one for safekeeping, remember it in six weeks.”

“You’re such an asshole sometimes.”

“I know.”

#modern au #hadestown modern au #persephone #eurydice #persephone and eurydice friendship

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beerecordings · 4 years

Note

How do we recognize ableist content like that? I've never been in situations like that, so something that look pretty harmless to me could be in fact quite shitty. I don't want to share stuff like that and be unaware of it, how do I learn?

well thank you for asking!!! but the first thing I’d like to do is make it clear that while I do trust myself to recognize many common ableist errors/choices, I do not pretend to be an authority on this issue any more than anyone else who’s done some research, talked with other people, and worked to recognize things. I need help sometimes too! Also I’d like to reiterate that I am able-bodied and people with disabilities are free to correct me.

The second thing to notice is that SOMETIMES these things are context-dependent. For instance, while I usually gag to see Jameson made into like the son of somebody the same age as him, if you’re actually writing an au where Jameson and maybe another character or two are actually children to another character, that can be pretty cute!!! In that case an adult is not being infantilized and he is not made into a child because of his disability - he’s being made into a child because he’s a literal four-year-old and that’s the premise of the story (and he still can’t talk). Alternatively, maybe Jameson needs extra attention and love and protection from older brothers after a traumatic event - but at some point, that Jameson should begin to regain his independence, should still experience a wide range of emotions, and should not be condescended to about his emotions or ability to function alone. However, please be careful with this… don’t use context to make excuses if you’re actually pulling ableist shit.

I think that list I gave in the post I made is a good (but not comprehensive!) starting point for some of the things to look for that are offensive to people with disabilities (some of these are specific to mutism). Let’s take another deeper look at these points:

Before reblogging something with Jameson in it, for instance, ask yourself - does this infantilize the character?

Is Jameson unable to function alone in society beyond the reasonable limitations we would expect of a person with a disability? Is Jameson babied to a ridiculous degree by the other egos? Does Jameson only experience basic emotions? Does Jameson ever stand up for himself or display “unpleasant” and unromanticized emotions such as anger, desire to isolate, desire for violence, ugly grief and sorrow, etc? Disabled adults are still ADULTS. Don’t treat them like little kids!!! If you want to portray Jameson’s trauma reactions - and you should!! he’s been through a lot!! - make sure this is more complex than just reducing him to a sweet needy baby who needs a hand to hold twenty-four seven. He should have ugly reactions too and be more complex than sad sometimes because he’s disabled and needs more attention. Otherwise you are infantilizing his mutism and romanticizing his trauma.

Does this erase Jameson’s disability completely or partially?

I have had people tell me it’s okay to erase Jameson’s disability because “they just wanted him to have a cute British accent.” I have had people to tell me to “chill out” because it “isn’t a big deal” that people erase his disability. I’ve heard people say “I couldn’t really get into Jameson for some reason, he just wasn’t my favorite character - so I decided to make him my own and give him new powers and let him talk and now I like him a lot!”

FUCK OFF M8

DON’T WRITE HIM IF YOU AREN’T WILLING TO INCORPORATE HIS DISABILITY AND YOU HATE DISABLED CHARACTERS. WHY ARE SOME OF U LIKE THIS. HOW DARE YOU qUITE FRANKLY

DO NOT SUPPORT CONTENT WITH A SPEAKING JAMESON UNLESS ANTI IS ABOUT TO SHOW UP AND CUT THAT BOY’S THROAT OR MAYBE IT’S AN AU WHERE SOMEBODY ELSE HAS THE DISABILITY BUT I’M NOT A HUNDRED PERCENT SURE ABOUT THAT ONE -

When you erase Jameson’s disability, you are telling every disabled person who might come across your writing that there is something wrong with being disabled and that they need to be fixed, as well as warping your own perception of the disabled people you will meet in your life. Do not use magic spells to erase Jameson’s inability to vocalize. Do not just decide you prefer a vocalizing Jamie.

Is this a respectful and accurate representation of a character who cannot vocalize?

If you are not disabled, you probably should not write pieces deeply exploring his relationship with his disability, because you just can’t do it right. I’m tired of seeing people write like ten thousand words of whump about how sad Jamie is about being disabled and how he longs desperately to just be normal like everyone else!! If only he didn’t have to sign!!! And he never seems to make any progress at accepting himself, he never seems to have any righteous anger at the people who treat him like shit, he always seems to let himself be comforted by other people telling him how to perceive himself instead of coming to terms with it with the help of both others and his own internal development. Incorporate his disability, and yes, it’s okay if it upsets him that other people react poorly to his inability to vocalize sometimes, but avoid stories which focus on him dealing with his disability exclusively if you are not disabled. If his disability is the only thing that ever makes him sad or makes him experience a negative emotion, you have fucked up again and you are using his disability for whump points like an asshole instead of seeing him holistically. I get upset sometimes because I see people will get prompts about JJ and it will be like… “job interview!” so they write one where Jameson gets turned down for a job because of a disability or it will be like “mourn!” and it’s about how he mourns his lost voice and “spell!” is about Marvin trying to fix him and just….. I guess it’s okay to write that stuff every now and then, but it’s a BIG RED FLAG if someone takes every single prompt or thought about JJ and makes it about him being sad about his disability.

Is this a respectful and accurate representation of sign language?

Please be aware that Jameson speaks BSL, not ASL! I think most people mess that one up just because they don’t know, not because they’re ableist, so it’s great to spread awareness! If you are writing something about Jamie, though, you really should know. You should also try to learn a little about the way people sign and just do some research! Also, when writing Jameson, be aware of the signing. If he is in another room than Jackie, then remember that Jackie can’t “hear” him. You just forgot he couldn’t talk! Double-check your work or ask someone to beta and this one is avoided easily. Be open to someone pointing out “actually, Jameson couldn’t do that, he was downstairs!” and work to accommodate him.

If I were unable to vocalize, would I be offended by this representation?

Many of us have disabilities of our own. Think about the things that bother you and how they apply to mutism or even other disabilities like Chase’s depression. One thing that always helps me (though I am not in a wheelchair!) is comparing this to people in wheelchairs. Would it be okay for me to write a fic where a person had their legs magically fixed after a lifetime of not being able to walk and then everybody liked them better and they finally found purpose? Would it be okay for me to write ten snippets in a row about how sad they are they can’t walk? Would it be okay for me to just decide they can walk now because I’m annoyed when I have to write in their wheelchair? Is it okay for me to say that they can’t wheel themselves around or that they use magic to move at all times and would not be able to move at all if someone were not pushing them or they lost their magic? Is it okay for everyone to treat the person like a helpless baby because they can’t walk? Honestly, I think we know more than we think if we take a moment to critically examine. Trust your gut.

Does this contain common problems in portrayal of characters with disabilities/mutism such as derision or lamentation towards sign language, making the character defined entirely by their disability (always a cheerful character except when reminded of their disability, for example), having other characters explain things about their disability to them, or treating the character as childish, needy, and unable to function in society because of their disability?

Pretty self-explanatory, but well worth repeating.

Do not show derision towards sign language (though a villain might, if it was clear that they are the villain and doing something wrong!). We have already discussed the complexities of lamentation and I suggest that you avoid that as well, especially if you are going to make his character flat. If you are not disabled, you really can’t portray it well, and it’s ableist to focus so much on the disability that you do not give the character any other complexity. Do not make the disability the “tragic backstory” of the character’s life. Complexity is important because it means you are seeing the person as more than their disability! You should know things about the character other than “they are happy and sweet and sugary and never get angry or make mistakes!! except sometimes… they are sad because they can’t talk uwuw poor baby” you look that shit in the eyes and you tell it to fuck off, you hear me? It’s great to have a sweet, nice, sugary baby brother Jameson as long as he is more complex than that, with real independence and abilities of his own and complex emotions and character! His disability should not be his one weak spot or his tragic backstory or some shit!

ALSO DO NOT DO NOT DO NOT REFER TO JAMESON AS “THE MUTE.”

like dude even “the mute man” is pretty fucking shifty because why do you feel the need to define him by that??? but definitely not “the mute moved down the hallway” i will block you on sight and you will deserve it that is SO offensive would you call a person who can’t walk “the cripple???”

Don’t have a speaking character explain things about disabilities to characters with disabilities. Speaking characters should not be condescending towards the character about much of anything, really, or else you’re infantilizing - if you need someone to explain things, obviously that’s okay, but do it in a way that recognizes that this is a mature and independent adult.

The character with a disability should be able to function in society past the limitations that are to be expected. No, Jameson isn’t going to magically start talking, but if he wants to go on a walk alone, he can. Let him do things like writing or texting. Don’t be afraid to give him a cool job and awesome hobbies. Let him have independence. If you can’t imagine JJ living on his own because he can’t speak, you’re doing it wrong. Look for signs that Jameson is capable of things other than making tea and kissing his brothers good night.

It’s okay to have a Jameson with a slightly childish personality, and I love it when he’s a sweet boy! But there should be more to him than that. I’m just going to say it - you know when Jameson is being treated like a baby. You know the difference between infantilization and a nice friendly man with sweet cute hobbies and interests. You can see it. Trust yourself. Don’t buy it when you see it and if you’re writing him, make sure there is complexity instead of just sugar-sweet with a sugar-sweet filling. He’s an adult. Remember that and remember that it’s harmful to pretend otherwise.

Geez, that was a rant and a half. Again, I am not the perfect authority. But there are some tips.

Does that help at all?

Feel free to add on to that if you have seen specific things in the fandom that I might not have seen or you have a disability and have experience with being discriminated against.

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cutesuki--bakugou · 4 years

Text

Ancient Soul

Time Travel, Quirkless, Feudal Japan AU

“Your soul does not belong here.” Those were words you never thought that you would hear. Now, thrown into the past in feudal Japan, you must find a way to survive, all while struggling to avoid the growing feelings for one hot-headed war general. War, romance, death and love drive you forward, to find the place where your soul truly belongs.

Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader

Want to start from be beginning? Check the Ancient Soul tag. New chapters released every Wednesday as long as schedule permits.

Genre: Romance / Angst Story Rating: Explicit | Adult Themes, Sex, Death, Depictions of Violence, Alcohol

Chapter 15: Recovery

Chapter Rating: Teen | Cursing, Making Out, Sexual Intimate Situation Words: 3432

One would expect to feel rested after a week of being unconscious, but when your mind was finally able to find a grasp on life, you immediately wished that you were dead. Already, you were suffering through the worst migraine imaginable, and your entire body was aching. It felt like there were millions of little needles in your skin, pricking you with fire over and over. What was worse, you were still feeling an unrelenting thirst, your throat so dry that you couldn’t even find the ability to swallow. The pain of attempting the mundane action was nearly unbearable, your entire body wincing in reaction as you gasped out in a choked yelp.

“She’s awake!”

“Tsu-Chan, help me with the water, please!”

“[L/N], don’t move so much!”

The familiar voices tugged at your heart, instantly bringing an intense burning to your eyes. Wanting to see someone, anyone that was important to you, you opened your eyes against the blinding light, only able to see shapes at first. Then, a familiar figure, the blonde hair and crimson gaze first coming into focus before the worried expression. From what you could tell, he was sitting beside you, but nearly everything else was lost.

“Ka… Kats…”

“Don’t try to talk, dumbass.” Looking up, Bakugou turned his attention to two other blurry figures beside you, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t pull your eyes off him, your mind racing between disbelief and longing. Was he really here? Had he been the one to save you? Needing to feel something physical to confirm that this wasn’t all a dream, you reached out with a trembling hand, clutching onto his arm and digging your tired fingers into the fabric. Not only did he allow it, he let your hand slide down into his, clutching it with his strong yet tender grip that you adored.

“Katsuki…” Somehow, tears began to stream down your face, flooded with happiness and relief that he was here. You had thought that you would never see him again, and yet, here he was. He had come for you, risked his life to save you. Everything you had been mad at him for, everything that you had argued about was completely erased from your mind, and all you wanted was to be with him.

Frown crossing his lips, Bakugou removed a rag from your forehead, dipping it into a bowl of water beside him. “I said shut up, don’t talk. Here--” He gave a gesture with his head, nodding towards the other two figures you hadn’t even bothered to look at. Not letting go of his hand, you turned your attention to them, finding two women looking down at you. Tsuyu was one of them, holding a wooden jug. The other was a woman you had seen very little of, her brown bobbed hair hanging down a bit as she leaned over you, working to prop your head up with extra pillows. You knew that her name was Ochaco and that she worked in the infirmary, and by her presence, you assumed that’s where you were.

“Here, [L/N]. Have some water, slowly.”

Taking a cup from Tsuyu, Ochaco held it to your lips, allowing you to slip from it. The cool water both soothed and burned your sore throat, but you didn’t dare stop, not until the cup was taken away from you. “Not too much, you may not be able to keep it down.”

After taking a moment to rest and catch your breath, you glanced back and forth between those that sat around you. There was a mix of relief and worry on their expressions, but as Bakugou placed the newly damp rag onto your forehead, you found the strength to question them. “What happened?”

“Do you not remember?” Tsuyu asked softly, filling the cup back up with water. With a small shake of your head, you used your free hand to wipe your eyes.

“No, no I remember that I was taken but… How did I get here?”

“We were able to figure out who took you quickly,” a small smile on her face, Tsuyu helped you to drink again. “When the time was right, we set fire to the building and took you back. I’m sorry it took us so long…”

Taking a moment to catch your breath after drinking, you couldn’t resist the small smile on your lips. “Don’t apologize… Thank you for helping me.” Turning your gaze to Bakugou, you noticed that his ears were flushed bright red and his brow was still furrowed with concern, which was made doubly obvious by his firm grip on your hand. “Did… you…?”

“I pulled you out of the fire, yes.” Bakugou finished for you, the redness of his ears spreading to his cheeks ever so slightly. “You stupid woman… So reckless.”

Feeling your heart flutter, that familiar bubbly feeling filled your empty stomach, only making the smile on your lips grow. “Thank you, Katsuki. I… I’m sorry for fighting with you--”

“Seriously?” Bakugou cut you off, scowling down at you with that embarrassed huff. “Don’t start with those apologies. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

You gave a small nod, tearing your gaze from him to instead look up at the two women. “Am I in the infirmary?”

“Yes,” Ochaco spoke with a nod, adjusting your blankets. “You’ve been in and out of consciousness for a week with a fever. I was worried you weren’t going to pull out of it, but it seems like you’re stronger than we thought. Your wounds have mostly begun to heal… I want you to stay here a while longer, though, to completely recover.”

And so you did, for another week you were subjected to lazy days of sleep and recovery. Bandages were changed and medicine was taken, even though half the time the medicine made you feel worse. What was the hardest to heal, however, was the mental scars that the experience had left on you. Already, you were struggling with nightmares and jumping at any little creak or bump. Strangers that came into the infirmary made you incredibly nervous, and you even found it difficult to trust those who you had deemed your friends.

Someone had to have leaked information about your skills to the enemies, and until you could find out who, distancing yourself may be the best option. For now, Tsuyu and Bakugou were the only two who you found you could still talk openly with, and their occasional company kept your mind at ease.

Eventually, when Ochaco deemed you healthy, you were allowed to leave. A hot bath, a warm dinner and the comfort of your own room made everything that happened seem like just a nightmare, and with the help of jasmine incense and the knowledge that there were guards at your door, you slept without a single disturbance.

The morning was different, however. Almost immediately, you were summoned by a servant to come to Bakugou’s private quarters, which was a place you had never been. The servant allowed you to dress and prep yourself before leading you quite a ways through the palace, and though you knew you shouldn’t, you tried your best to memorize the path. You didn’t know what to expect from Bakugou so early in the morning, and you couldn’t help but be curious if he had some type of romantic intentions. A silly thing to imagine, you knew that, but your love-stricken heart couldn’t help it.

When you finally reached the entry doors, the servant slid them open for you, bowing deeply to allow you in. Nerves silencing you, the first few steps into the entryway were as silent as you could make them, eyes darting back and forth across the massive room. Much to your surprise, it wasn’t like what you had expected at all. It was neat and tidy, with weapons and armor as decorations in a very organized fashion. There was even art hanging from the walls, depicting battles in brilliant black and colored ink.

Being sure to leave your sandals at the entrance, you timidly made your way out into the open room, only stopping when you noticed him. Sitting by himself on the floor next to a low table, Bakugou had his back to you, though you could see by his posture that he was agitated. You could even hear soft grumbling as he mumbled to himself, though it was impossible for you to make it out. Still, you found it cute, smiling softly as you tried to ignore the burning in your cheeks.

“Katsuki?”

“Eh?” Looking over his shoulder, Bakugou glowered at you for a moment before he calmed, as if he thought you had been a different person at first. “Oh, Demon. I didn’t hear you. Come.” Turning back forward, he gave a vague gesture to the empty spot to his left. While he wasn’t looking, you fixed your clothing into place and made your way over to the spot, sitting down on your legs properly.

Now, you could see what he had been focusing on. You had grown familiar with what their official reports looked like, and seeing it just made your purpose there immediately obvious. He had to tell Lord Yagi what had happened, and to do that, he needed a full description from you. The sake bottle and cups that were set out at least gave you a little comfort to know that it wasn’t all that formal, but it still disappointed you a bit. You had hoped that maybe he just wanted to chat with you, to check up on you and--

“How are you?”

His question caught you off guard, almost expecting that he would get straight to business. Instead, he looked at you with a curious gaze, comfortable and seemingly actually interested in your wellbeing. You knew that he had been, as he had come to visit you at least once every day that you were awake in the infirmary. Swallowing your bashfulness, you gave a small shrug, trying to relax. “Ah, you know… I’m feeling a lot better, now. And I didn’t have any bad dreams last night.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re better.” Bakugou took a moment to pour you both a drink. “But I have something we have to deal with, and it can’t wait a second longer.”

“A report…?” You took the small cup as it was handed to you, looking down at the clear liquid. Through your reflection, you could still see the bruises on your cheeks that were yellowed and healing and the remnants of some cuts. They hurt your self-confidence, but you did your best to ignore them, knowing that soon they would be nothing but bad memories.

“Yes. My Lord wants one immediately. We need to know exactly what happened and what they wanted. He’s worried you gave them useful information...”

“I… Okay.” You couldn’t help your reluctance to avoid the conversation. You wanted to forget about it, to move on and hopefully repair the relationship that had been damaged by your arguments with him. Even though it was necessary, and you knew that you had to tell him eventually, it wasn’t the very first thing you wanted to do. Some casual conversation and maybe a shared apology would have been ideal, but once again, you weren’t sure why you had expected such a thing out of him.

“Is that a problem?” The annoyance in his voice and raised eyebrow told you that he had already picked up on your reluctance. Should you just go along with what he wanted, or should you fight it? Up to this point, you had been nothing but an obedient woman, doting to every command and word he had said, but you didn’t want to be like that anymore. No, you couldn’t be like that anymore. After being almost killed, you realized that it just wasn’t worth it to be treated like a tool all the time.

You wanted to be treated like a person, to have your feelings and troubles recognized for once.

Setting down the still full sake cup without taking a single sip, you placed your hands firmly in your lap, clutching onto the fabric that covered your thighs as you kept your stern gazed locked with him. “Yes. It is a problem. I didn’t expect to have to immediately talk about this stuff and be interrogated right out of recovery.”

“You’re lucky I was able to wait until you did recover. My Lord wanted a report the instant you were awake, but I pushed it back to give you time. It will only be a few minutes, I don’t see the problem-”

“The problem is that I don’t want to be treated like a tool anymore! I just feel like your lawnmower that got stolen, and now that you’ve gotten me back, you just want to use me all over again!”

“Lawnmower--? Damn it, can’t you just get that shit out of your head?! I don’t think you’re a tool!”

“That’s all I’ve been since I’ve gotten here, a thing for you to use for your own gain. The sense of security I had, of comfort and friendship, it’s nothing but bullshit to keep me around! I know that now, after all this shit I’ve gone though, and even still none of you trust me to keep my mouth shut.” Standing, you flattened out the clothing around your legs, struggling to keep your frustrated tears at bay. “I was beaten and starved for you people because I wouldn’t give any information to them! I almost died protecting you and your secrets, but I bet that no one will believe me!”

Before you could walk away, Bakugou stood up in your path. At first, you thought he was going to grab your arms, but he kept his hands to himself. “No, you have everything all wrong! Just let me talk to you!”

“I don’t want to talk, Katsuki!” Tears not streaming down your face, you tried to get around him, but he didn’t let you. “Just let me go!”

“Do you think that I would have risked my life and my men to come save you if I didn’t care about you?! I’ve already told you before, your visions or whatever the fuck they are just help me with my strategies, you don’t do everything for me! I was just fine before you, and I’d be fine without you!”

“That doesn’t prove anything! You could be lying to me, to just try and keep me totally fucking fixated on you so I don’t try to leave!”

“It’s not a lie! If I say I care about you, then I care about you!”

“Then prove it to me!”

At first, you thought that saying that was a huge mistake. You thought that he would just continue with his jumbled thoughts, to try and get you to listen to him with words. But it was obvious at that point that you had forgotten what everyone had told you up to this point. Bakugou wasn’t one to use words to express himself, nor was he good at it. It was actions that he preferred, and although you should have expected it, his actions still shocked you.

Pulling your body against his, Bakugou placed one strong hand on your hip while the other held the back of your neck, pressing his eager lips against yours. You had always thought that, if this exact moment ever occurred, you would be frozen in place, unable to react or decide if you should return the affection. Any reluctance you had imagined would come into play here was nowhere to be seen. Instead, your own wanting for him exploded like a firework, sending hot sparks pricking over every inch of your skin.

How quickly you gave into him had you immediately short of breath, but you didn’t dare allow this to stop. Your arms slipped around his neck, pressing yourself into him as he caressed you even closer. He was much more passionate than you expected, his kiss hot and rough as he invaded your willing mouth. It was everything you had ever wanted, and yet, you found yourself wanting more as you pushed yourself up on your toes to be as close to him as you could.

The hot taste of sake on his tongue and the heat of his hands on your body filled you with a burning fire, making your skin so hot that the feeling of the cold wall suddenly at your back made you squeak in shock. Smirking against your lips with a deep chuckle, Bakugou scooped you up into his arms, forcing your kimono up to your hips as your legs wrapped around his waist. “Damn, irresistible and fucking cute.”

One hand clutching onto his shoulder tightly, you slipped the other teasingly around his neck, massaging with your fingers that trailed up into his hair. You felt a sharp tingle through your body as he gave a soft groan into the kiss, spurred on by your nails against his scalp. He was so eager, everything about him so intoxicating that you couldn’t find it in yourself to stop this.

Wait… Should I stop this?

The further his hand slid up your bare thigh, the more you began to wonder if this was really okay. Did you want this? You could answer that question with a strong ‘yes’, not a single doubt in your mind that you wanted him. Every inch of your body was aching for him, the heat between your legs and tingling of your skin enough proof. But if you wanted it didn’t really matter.

Sex does not mean love. At least, not in your world, and you knew that it was the same here. And yet, he had finally made a move that was definitive for how he felt about you, that there truly was more there than just wanting to use you for war. Anyone would have thought that this was enough proof that he cared about you, but in what way? Was it true adoration or was it just lust? Going from zero to a hundred in intimacy scale was always a dead giveaway that it was nothing but lust, or at least that is how you saw things in your world.

Was this actually different?

“K-Katsuki, wait--” Getting ahold of what little wits you had left, you put your hands onto his chest, pushing back with just a bit of pressure. “--I can’t.”

Stopping just as you had commanded, Bakugou stared down at you in confusion, his brow furrowing in a way you had never seen before. It was that sinking feeling of rejection, that sudden punch in the gut that you didn’t want him. “You... can’t?”

Feeling your entire face heat up with embarrassment and shame, you dug your fingers into his clothes, finding it impossible to even look him in the face anymore. “I don’t… I just can’t do that with you.”

“But you told me--”

“Sex doesn’t mean that you care about me, Katsuki.” Finally, you forced yourself to look up at him, though you immediately wished that you hadn’t. You saw many things on that flawless face that made your heart feel as if it were made of stone.

Rejection. Confusion. Frustration. Contemplation.

It was obvious that he just didn’t know what to do or say, and if you were honest, neither did you. Apologizing wouldn’t mean anything, and there wasn’t a point in trying to explain your reasoning behind stopping him. Instead, you both stayed quiet, just the shuffling of clothes filling the air as he placed you back down on your feet. The feeling around you had become heavy and awkward, finding yourself trying to be as casual as possible as you fixed your kimono back into place.

With a small cough to clear his throat, Bakugou took a few steps back before leaving you completely, sitting back down at the table in front of his report. As you stood there and watched silently, he grabbed your still full sake cup and took the shot that had originally been for you. “Forget the report for now. I’ll just include what you’ve already told me and let my Lord know that you had kept silent.”

“Katsuki, I’m--”

“You’re what?”

His snap instantly silenced you, as did the blank glare he turned in your direction. He didn’t want you to apologize or explain yourself. It was obvious that all he wanted was for you to leave.

So, you did.

#bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #bakugou x reader #bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha fanfiction #fanfiction #bnha writing blog #xreader #personal #ancient soul

38 notes · View notes

rkiverse · 5 years

Text

otoñal - 2 | jjk

previous → Chapter 2 → next

Pairing | Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre | fluff, angst + professor!jungkook, college!au, and very strong e2l!au

Warnings | for future chapters, there will be explicit language, lots of bantering, and lots of pining :-)

Summary | Of all the women Jeon Jungkook can have, he goes for the ones he can’t. And so when he’s faced with an arranged marriage, his best buddies come to the rescue with a proposition that leaves him with no choice but to go with. Little did he know, said ‘proposition’ has something to do with a student he doesn’t get along with quite well.

→ to get into the mood of this series, i highly suggest listening to this!

Word Count | 4k+ words

Namjoon’s startled when he hears Jungkook slam the door shut. He eyes Jungkook as he trudges his way towards his work station. Dark circles are evident around his doe-eyes and Namjoon can’t help but wonder what must have kept the younger one up at night.

“Pulled an all-nighter, I assume?” Namjoon decides to spark up a conversation. Jungkook’s putting on his lab goggles before shaking his head in reply, chuckling softly.

“Had a very interesting talk with my parents at the dinner table last night,” he explains. “I couldn’t sleep because I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

“It must bother you that much, huh?” Jungkook hums in reply.

Jungkook lets out a tiring sigh. At this point, Jungkook has lost count of the times he’s sighed ever since he got to campus. Unfortunately, he had only gotten three hours of sleep and he was still late.

As he places his sample underneath the microscope, he gives it a good look before prying his eyes away from it. It couldn’t hurt telling an upperhand what was going on in your life, right?

He hesitates. “My parents think my dating life is boring and that I’m probably going to die single.”

Namjoon bursts out into laughter. “That’s what kept you up all night?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” he tries to laugh it off with Namjoon, but he can’t help but ponder on it. “But it’s true, and I don’t know if I should be concerned.”

“But you’re only twenty-three, why rush?” Namjoon questions.

“My parents are planning to set me up with an arranged marriage.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders.

Namjoon almost chokes on his spit. He tears his eyes away from his microscope and he places his tools down before he wrecks something out of shock.

“You parents are what?!”

“____, do you mind having a word with me after class today?”

You abruptly stop in your tracks. As your eyes meet your professor’s, you quickly nod your head before scurrying to your seat that Hoseok’s saved for you. The whole class erupts into whispers that are most likely about you and you can’t help but pull at the strings of your hoodie, hoping that it’ll make you disappear.

“You literally just stepped into the class and Professor Jeon’s already breathing down your neck.”

You hit Hoseok’s arm and he lets out a muffled yelp into his sweater paws. You watch Professor Jeon as he starts to pull up a PowerPoint presentation for today’s lecture. He rolls up the sleeves of his black button-up shirt and you hear the class erupt into whispers. He has veins travelling up his arm and you can’t help but look away.

“Seriously though,” Hoseok whispers. “What did you do to have Professor Jeon hate you that much?”

You pout. “A coffee stain on his white button-up shirt, apparently.”

Professor Jeon turns around to face the class and he clasps his hands together. As he begins to briefly talk about today’s lecture while the PowerPoint loads, you take this as a chance to get a good look of the classroom itself. You notice how all the females are seated near the front of the auditorium, and all the males are seated near the back. You also notice how the females barely have any laptops with them, and instead, opted for a pen and notebook for note-taking.

You snap out of your thoughts when Professor Jeon clears his throat. “I’ve also marked your quizzes, and since this quiz is worth five percent of your mark, I decided to lightly mark your work.”

“Lightly,” Hoseok scoffs to himself. “On my other quiz, he deducted points because I wasn’t too detailed in my explanation.”

“The class did fairly well, but as the course progresses on, I’m going to expect a bit more from each and every one of you.” Professor Jeon explains. “Are we good with that?”

The whole class agrees and it prompts him to begin his lecture. You pull out your laptop and open a new word document. As you begin to type away, you could feel Hoseok nudging your arm.

You glance at him. “Why do you think he does surprise quizzes?”

“To make people come to class?” You shrug your shoulders.

“Good point.” Hoseok nods his head as he scribbles down the notes from each slide. “His notes aren’t even helpful. Maybe that’s why I’ve been bombing the quizzes.”

Professor Jeon switches to the next slide of his presentation. The great thing about taking notes with your laptop was that 1. you’re a fast typer and 2. it hid you from your professors. However, Professor Jeon takes notice of how you’re practically hiding behind your 13-inch laptop screen and he can’t help but smirk.

He clears his throat. “____, do you remember the term we used from yesterday’s lecture?”

You jump in your seat, completely alarmed. You look up from your laptop and your eyes meet Professor Jeon’s. You gulp nervously. “Immunological memory?”

He smiles, nodding his head. “Correct.”

You let out a sigh of relief before leaning back in your seat, letting yourself slowly sink down into it. Hoseok bursts out into soft giggles and you send a glare at him.

“He really is out to get you,” Hoseok mumbles.

“He really is.” You groan.

“He barely calls out anyone in the class,” he mutters. “He must’ve chosen you as a target.”

Almost an hour passes and the lecture is about to finish. Hoseok glances at his watch before letting out a small gasp. You raise an eyebrow at him and he shows you the time. Your eyes slightly widen and the both of you start to quickly take all the notes down before class time runs out.

“I’ll end the lecture here, but please, pick up your quiz before heading to your next lecture!”

The whole class starts to gather their things. You’re too busy shoving your laptop into your backpack while Hoseok’s trying to shove all his coloured pens into his pencil case. Both of you had a lecture right after this one and it only meant that you only had five minutes to run across campus to get to the classroom. It was unfortunate that the next class you both shared was on the other side of campus, and the only time it was offered was after Immunology class.

As the both of you scurry down to the front of the classroom to pick up your quizzes, you hear your name being called out. You look up to see Hoseok waving at you. He has both of your quizzes in his hand. You sigh with relief, catching up to him before you hear your name being called out again.

You stop in your tracks. You look over your shoulder to see Professor Jeon. As you let out a sigh, you turn towards Hoseok. “Go ahead, I’ll be late. Save me a seat.”

Hoseok purses his lips into a tight line. “Don’t worry. I’ll save you a seat.”

Biting your lip, you face Professor Jeon. “Is there a reason why you wanted to see me, sir?”

“Yes.” He replies. “It’s about your quiz marks.”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. There’s nothing wrong with your marks in the course, as you’ve been acing all of the quizzes so far. “My… quiz marks?”

“Yes. I noticed that you’ve been doing really well in the class and I was wondering if you’ve had any background in immunology.” He explains.

You nod your head. “My father was an immunology major when he was in university. He’s taught me everything he knows ever since I was a kid.”

“Interesting,” he hums in reply. “Well, that’s not the only thing I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh,” you mumble. “What else did you want to talk about, sir?”

“The Dean of the faculty called for a meeting with all the professors and talked about implementing class presidents in each class.” He says as he erases the chalkboard. Once he finishes erasing the board, he places the eraser back onto the ledge and glances at you. “And I was wondering if you could be the class president.”

“Me? Class president?” You question.

“Are you interested?” He asks as he dusts off the remaining chalk from his hands.

“Well, I’m quite busy with my other courses so I won’t be able to take such a huge responsibility.”

He squints his eyes in suspicion. “Well, you do owe me.”

You raise an eyebrow and watch him as he begins to smirk. You scoff. “Owe you? Since when do I owe you?”

He starts counting with his fingers. “You owe me for my white shirt, for my car, my parking spot… right, and also for questioning my job position as a professor.”

As you start to laugh nervously, you scratch the back of your neck. “Right. Well then, I’ll get right to it, sir.”

He grins. “Great.”

“You’re really out here to get me,” you mutter underneath your breath.

“What was that?” He asks innocently.

“Nothing!” You yelp.

“Well then,” he throws his bag over his shoulder and shoves his hands into his pockets. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, class president.”

“Namjoon, please, just help me out.” Hoseok pleads.

Namjoon’s busy reading his novel. At this point, Hoseok’s run out of solutions. At first, he had thought that immunology was an easy course, the bird course he had only ever dreamt of taking. Everyone had said that the course was easy and it helped boost their gpa. But surprise, surprise, Hoseok has been bombing all the quizzes so far and even the help he was getting from you wasn’t even helping him at all.

“You know the professor, can’t you just help me out by getting some notes for me?” Hoseok begs.

Namjoon sighs. “Look, I know we’re best friends and I’d do anything for you. But the things you’re asking me to do is impossible.”

Hoseok pouts. “You’re such an ass. All you have to do is just ask Professor Jeon to give you some notes for his class because of some made up reason then hand it to me.”

“And you think Jungkook’s going to buy this ‘made up reason’?”

“At this point, I’ll do anything to pass this course.”

Namjoon sighs. “You know, all you have to do is go to his office hours, ask him for help, and he’ll help you. He’s not an asshole who’ll just dismiss you before you could even speak.”

“But he’s completely unapproachable,” he whines. “He’s literally out to get my best friend and I’m pretty sure he’ll be out to get me.”

“Here’s where you’re wrong,” Namjoon shuts his novel and places it onto the coffee table. “First of all, Jungkook’s definitely approachable, he’s just the shy type.”

“Shy?” Namjoon nods his head.

“He’s a shy twenty-three year old, cut him some slack.”

Hoseok gasps. “He’s only twenty-three?”

Namjoon chuckles. “Yes, a twenty-three year old professor who’s somehow single.”

Hoseok falls silent. Namjoon could almost hear the gears turn in Hoseok’s head. But before it dawns on him, Hoseok’s already beating him to it.

“Forget what I just said.”

“Did you just say that he’s single?”

Namjoon curses to himself. “Yes, he’s single.”

“And ready to mingle?”

“Well, he is being set up in an arranged marriage that he’s completely against but―” Namjoon cuts himself off and slaps a hand over his mouth.

Hoseok’s in complete shock. He has his mouth hung open. Namjoon knows that he’s fucked up and that he can’t take back what he’s said. However, Hoseok clamps his mouth shut and begins to pace back and forth in Namjoon’s living room.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” Namjoon begs.

“So, you said that Professor Jeon―I mean, this Jungkook dude―is being set up in an arranged marriage against his will?” Hoseok questions. Namjoon nods.

“Hoseok―”

“I have a plan.” Hoseok interrupts him.

“A plan?”

Hoseok grins. “I have a plan that will give us all the benefit of the doubt.”

“Who do you exactly mean by all?” Namjoon asks.

“It will benefit Jungkook’s love life, it will improve my declining grades, it will save ____’s ass from being roasted by Jungkook, and you won’t lose your friendship with Jungkook.”

“Jung Hoseok, what do you have planned under your sleeve?” Hoseok’s grin gets wider.

“Thank me later.”

It’s been a couple of weeks since the whole campus became aware of the ‘class president’ concept. Professor Jeon had another meeting with you regarding the duties you have to fulfill as class president. Every Friday, you had to conduct a brief one-on-one meeting with Professor Jeon to outline any struggles the class has been going through in terms of course content. Before each class, you have to arrive fifteen minutes early to help Professor Jeon set up. At this point, with all the time you have with Professor Jeon, you wouldn’t be surprised if all your female classmates would die to be in your position.

But as the weeks pass, you guess you could say that the coffee stain and parking lot incident has been forgotten.

“Class president.”

You stop in the hallway. You look over your shoulder to see Professor Jeon standing a couple of metres away from you. “Yes, sir?”

“I know I told you that I didn’t need help setting up for today’s lecture, but I need help bringing a few things to class.”

You inwardly sigh. “Alright, sir.”

As the both of you head to his office, you could see Professor Jeon glancing at you from the corner of your eye. You look up at him and he quickly looks away. Professor Jeon covers it up with a cough.

He shoves his hands into his pockets. “So, what’s your major?”

“I’m a physics major.” You reply.

He looks surprised. “And yet you took my class?”

You nod. “Although I’m completely invested in the world of physics, I do have an interest in Immunology. My father loved Immunology, and I guess I wanted to live on his legacy.”

The both of you reach his office and as you walk in, you marvel at his bookshelves with all the Immunology textbooks your father used to read to you. You snap out of your trance when you feel a heavy stack of books being placed in your arms.

“Mr. Jeon?”

Out of curiosity, you turn towards the owner of the voice. It’s a classmate of yours. She hesitantly steps into the office, hugging her textbook to her chest. Professor Jeon looks quite surprised at her sudden presence, making him place down the books in his arms.

She clears her throat. “I know it’s not office hours but I have a really important question to ask.”

He folds his arms. “My office hours were yesterday, did you not set aside some time to make it to my office hours? Class is starting in a couple of minutes.”

“I just need you to clarify a diagram in the textbook. It’s not the same as the one you used in the slides―”

“I thought I made myself clear in the syllabus that the diagrams presented in lecture are the ones to be followed.” He cuts her off.

You purse your lips into a tight line. As you fix the stack of books in your arms, you slowly head towards the door.

“Professor Jeon?” You say softly, and he glances at you. His face filled with annoyance softens. You point at the door. “I’ll start heading to class. Is this all I have to bring?”

He nods his head. “Yes, just place them on the table. Thanks again, ____.”

Just before you leave his office, you make eye contact with the girl. She looks at you suspiciously before sticking her tongue out at you. Your eyebrows raise in surprise, and just as you turn on your heel, you could see the girl intentionally lean over Professor Jeon’s office desk from the corner of your eye.

You could only scoff. Right. Lately, the lecture auditorium has been overly packed due to all the female students trying to find a closer seat to get a good look of Professor Jeon. Some of them were your classmates, and some of them just heard all the gossip about a young, handsome immunology professor teaching down the hall. You couldn’t blame them, Professor Jeon did look handsome. And young. And very attractive. Wait, what’s going on with you?

But then it dawns on you. Before you even know it, you’re sprinting down the hall to get to the auditorium before all the seats are taken and you end up sitting in the aisles.

“I’m not interested.”

Hoseok tugs at your arm, pulling you back into his dorm. You use all of your power to shrug him off, but it only results in him pulling at your arm again. As you let out a tiring sigh, you face him in defeat.

“It all makes sense, ____!” Hoseok exclaims.

“How does forcing me, your best friend, to go on a blind date make sense? I’m not interested in dating, did I not make that clear for the past half hour?”

Hoseok pouts. “Listen, ____. I just need you to go out on a blind date with Namjoon’s best buddy and in return, he’ll help us ace Professor Jeon’s course.”

“Why can’t you just study? Is it that hard? Has our study sessions not helped at all?” You question, huffing out a strand of hair away from your face.

“I’ve been studying! It’s just that Professor Jeon hates my ass,” he frowns. “It’s like the moment he sees my name on a test paper, he automatically marks hard.”

“Maybe you’re not trying hard enough,” you argue.

“Do you not feel bad for me the slightest bit?”

You ponder. You shake your head. “Nope. Not even the slighest bit.”

“____!” He whines. “Please, just one blind date, and we can put it all behind us.”

“Just one?” He nods his head.

“Just one!” He places his hands on your shoulders and you feel your shoulders slump at the sudden heaviness. “Please, ____? I’ll do anything in return.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Like doing my laundry for the rest of the year?”

Hoseok nods his head. “Anything.”

“Like sharing the notes with me once Namjoon gives them to you?”

“Anything, ____.”

You pry Hoseok’s hands off your shoulders. As you push him aside, you make your way towards his kitchen. Grabbing a bottle of soju from his fridge, you look over your shoulder to see him still standing at the door, looking very lost.

You tilt your head. “So, when’s the date?”

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hope-for-olicity · 5 years

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Fabulous Olicity Fanfic Friday - May 10th, 2019

Happy Friday! So this is my attempt to both thank awesome fanfic writers for their amazing work and offer my recommendations to anyone who is interested. Here are the fantastic fanfic stories I read this week! They are posted in the order I read them. This and all previous Fabulous Olicity Fanfic posts can be found on my blog.

With the Speed of an Arrow multi-chapter Complete by @academyofshipping - Oliver Queen’s elite and silver-spoon life has taken some blows in the past few years, but he is still the carefree billionaire everyone knows of and loves. When his role in the family business is in jeopardy and he is introduced to a motley of new people, his status quo is threatened. With a changed perspective, Oliver realizes his feeling for his best friend and anchor-in-life, Felicity Smoak, may be more than just platonic. OR A modern adaption of Jane Austen’s Emma with a gender swap* and no island. *Knowing that gender is not binary https://archiveofourown.org/works/16559846/chapters/38799857

Tick Tick Boom multi-chapter WIP by @nodecaff4me - This story is loosely based on S02, starting with the appearance of the Clock King. Only this time, Tockman is not just after the money, but also after Felicity. Someone hired him to go after her. How will she and her team handle this new threat? And the even bigger question; who is after her and why? https://archiveofourown.org/works/5365172/chapters/12390371

Time for a Story multi-chapter WIP by @smkkbert - This fic shows Olicity and their life as a (married) couple with family. Although Olicity (and their kids) are the protagonists, other characters of Arrow and Flash make appearances. YOU NEED THIS STORY IN YOUR LIFE. https://archiveofourown.org/works/3912157/chapters/8757172

Let it Out by @laxit21 - Let’s pretend that Arrow ended after Oliver was acquitted in 6x21. The Lizard and everyone connected to him all died or were erased from existence, including Black Siren. This is sad. You’ve been warned. After an unexpected tragedy, Oliver and Felicity say goodbye to someone important to both of them. https://laxit21.tumblr.com/post/184626020474/let-it-out

Conspiracy by @felicityollies - (prompt) Slade conspires with Thea of all people to get Oliver and Felicity to break their "let's take it one step at a time rule" by putting them in a situation for Oliver to propose to her again. https://archiveofourown.org/works/11915487

Blast from the Past by @felicityollies - Set in season two - Oliver’s ex comes to visit him, but has to stop by executive assistant Felicity first. https://archiveofourown.org/works/11921649

Unasked Questions by @laurabelle2930 - This one takes place during 3x20. It’s my take on what happened before we see Oliver staring out over the moon lit sands of Nanda Parbat. Warning: It’s smutty... https://archiveofourown.org/works/11927979

Want vs Need by @felicityollies - Felicity knows the difference between want versus need, but she can’t seem to let go of a beautiful jacket she saw in a department store window. She goes as far as to steal it right off the rack. A kind stranger, that happens to be the city’s mayor, steps in when she gets caught. (prompt) https://archiveofourown.org/works/11940456

Every Piece of You multi-chapter WIP by @bowsmoakandarrow - If anyone had told Felicity Smoak that she'd be a single mother right out of MIT, she would have laughed in your face. https://archiveofourown.org/works/11554779/chapters/25950957

I Do Believe In Magic by @smoakmonster - AU 5x09 flashback, in which present day Oliver Queen actually time-travels back for a short visit to see Felicity in 2012, before she became his partner, before he’s supposed to be in love with her. https://archiveofourown.org/works/2588447/chapters/20369764

Is it Too Much to Ask? (It Probably is) by @laureningall - Written for the Olicity Hiatus Fic-A-Thon prompt "Ask" Felicity knows that Oliver would do just about anything she asked of him. But what about something that was pretty silly. It was silly really, what was bothering her. Felicity works to track down a long lost team mate for some help with her unusual request. https://archiveofourown.org/works/11921043

Something Old and Someone New by CaptainBrieOnToast - Felicity decides to make a pretty drastic lifestyle change her Senior Year of high school, at first no one notices, but then some does. https://archiveofourown.org/works/11944593

You're thinking too LOUD by sssssssim - Once upon a time, metaphoricalanchor posted this thing: AU prompt: Person A is thinking sexually graphic or generally odd thoughts and suddenly panics and thinks “If you’re a mind reader, cough right now.” Person B coughs. Then, wittyfelicity had a party in the tags: #IMAGINE THIS ABOUT OLIVER AND FELICITY#LIKE FELICITY IS HAVING A DAYDREAM AND THEN HER THOUGHTS START TO GET REALLY GRAPHIC AND OLIVER PRACTICALLY CHOKES WHEN SHE SUDDENLY THINKS#THAT#CAN YOU IMAGINE THIS THOUGH#SOMEONE NEEDS TO WRITE IT ... I took it upon myself to write the thing. Smut. THING. https://archiveofourown.org/works/1414105/chapters/5204288

The Only Way to Know is to Ask by @cruzrogue - Felicity and Oliver have been living in their new home for roughly a month and after Oliver's run he meets one person that Felicity has conversed with during his outing. But they aren't the new neighbors... https://archiveofourown.org/works/11951745

Olicity One-Shot: The Rage Phase by @entersomethingcleverhere - Newsroom AU — Felicity might have been the face of Atlantic Cable News’ financial analysis, but when an ex-boyfriend takes revenge on her for breaking up with him, he tries to ruin it all for her. Oliver’s the only one she can turn to to help her get off the floor and fight back. https://entersomethingcleverhere.tumblr.com/post/164841890517/olicity-one-shot-the-rage-phase

The Fan multi-chapter WIP by @leuska - For the past couple of months, Felicity Smoak, previous child star known to the world through her alter ego Lisy the Tech Whiz, who ended her career and her growing popularity at the age of thirteen rather abruptly, has sporadically received disturbing notes and gifts in her mail. Police believe the notes to be just little tokens of appreciation by a former fan. Despite having left the spotlight over a decade ago and living in anonymity since, the fan mail keeps coming, increasing in frequency as well as intensity. Thelast drop is when Felicity receives another letter with a love note. A scary, ominous note. A note written in human blood.FBI director Amanda Waller tasks her best Agent to the case. Oliver Queen, a criminal profiler, is currently working on a special task force formed between SCPD and FBI to catch a man dubbed the Start City Slasher, who has murdered at least three young women in the past nine months. Agent Queen is not thrilled with the prospect of holding a former princess’ hand through her problem with a simple stalker while a serial killer is still at large. However, once meeting her, Oliver finds there is nothing easy or simple about Felicity Smoak as their worlds start to intertwine. https://archiveofourown.org/works/17726573/chapters/41820368

Did You Pack Enough? by @christinabeggs - Felicity preparing for trip with the two most important men in her life. https://archiveofourown.org/works/11955036

Ghost by @felicityollies - Olicity + "I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner. I love you Felicity. " post 3x09 angst https://archiveofourown.org/works/6610375/chapters/27070692

Mission Impossible by @felicityollies - Felicity gets kidnapped during an undercover OTA mission https://archiveofourown.org/works/6610375/chapters/27072189

Choose Me by @felicityollies - prompt: choose - Felicity begs Oliver not to continue his daredevil lifestyle. She wishes he would give up his street racing and choose her, but he’s adamant that his racing is for her. https://archiveofourown.org/works/11034534/chapters/27176745

Choose by @wetsuiton - dialogue fic, prompt choose https://archiveofourown.org/works/11084547/chapters/27178335#main

Our Once Barren World Now Brims with Life by @overwatchandarrow - Felicity is worried Willaim won't like her. Oliver wholeheartedly disagrees. https://archiveofourown.org/works/12018810

Five Times Felicity Finds the Ring multi-chapter Complete by @anthfan - Five part series. Each chapter shows a different way Felicity finds out about the ring in the bowl. Chapters are standalone. https://archiveofourown.org/works/5184392/chapters/11944589

The Voyage to You multi-chapter WIP by @obibalwin - Felicity Smoak didn’t want a complicated life. She enjoyed helping people as a nurse at Starling City General Hospital and spending time with her best friend Sara. When a John Doe arrives on the fifth floor of thehospital, she finds herself being dragged into a world of mysterious oaths and visions. The only thing she can hope is to stay strong enough to resist the man who has traveled to find her. https://archiveofourown.org/works/16596788/chapters/38895977

I Can't Let Her Die multi-chapter WIP by @originalhybridloverfics - Future Oliver seeks present day Oliver help to save Felicity. Chapter 1 https://originalhybridloverfics.tumblr.com/post/183625037894/i-cant-let-her-die Chapter 2 https://originalhybridloverfics.tumblr.com/post/184191980224/i-cant-let-her-die-ch2 Chapter 3 https://originalhybridloverfics.tumblr.com/post/184665869079/i-cant-let-her-die-ch3

Forget Me Not multi-chapter WIP by @mindramblingsfics - Felicity was presumed dead after The Gambit was shipwrecked and she went missing. As the one year anniversary of her death approaches, a miracle happens and she is found. Just when Oliver thinks the universe has given them a second chance, he learns Felicity barely remembers him and the memories of their love together are gone entirely. Oliver and Felicity’s journey after they reunite prove to be a tough road ahead, and then they learn that Felicity’s accident may have had a more sinister motive behind it. https://archiveofourown.org/works/18392291/chapters/43556987

Providence multi-chapter WIP by @so-caffeinated - Will Queen has struggled in silence in the year since he was shot. But when a shadowy crime lord known as Domino targets the only woman Will’s ever truly loved, fate forces him to confront his demons in ways he never could have imagined… Whether he wants to or not. Amelia Prescott has fought to take control of her life since learning two years ago that her personal and professional worlds were manipulated by others. But nothing can prepare her for just how hard she'll have to fight to set her own course, especially when her heart belongs to a damaged man and a crime lord threatens her every professional move... And her life. Destiny brings them together, but as chaos reigns and personal demons haunt Will and Amelia both, it may also threaten to tear them apart. https://archiveofourown.org/works/17919056/chapters/42308753

Hard To Find Love multi-chapter WIP by Mellowyellowdiamonds - Through a tragic twist of fate Felicity finds herself left with an orphaned young William Clayton. Keeping her promise to her friend, Felicity raises William diligently, loving him as if he were her own child, only to have Moira Queen storm into their lives several years later demanding custody of her grandson. Locked in a war with Moira Queen, things get complicated when Felicity finds herself developing unwanted feelings for William's biological father, Oliver Queen. At the same time she must try to manage her meddling 13 year old son, who has it in his head that if Felicity would just cooperate and fall for his father, everything would be right in the world. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15941786/chapters/37173917

Ivy Town to Star City by @geneshaven - Oliver's thoughts as he and Felicity take the limo from Ivy Town to Star City https://geneshaven.tumblr.com/post/184709636599/ivy-town-to-star-city

Pieces of Always multi-chapter WIP by @so-caffeinated and @dust2dust34 - Life continues after Forever is Composed of Nows. Ongoing non-linear collection of family moments for the Queens. http://archiveofourown.org/works/8220479/chapters/18840356

Our Version of Events multi-chapter WIP by @machawicket and @geneeste - Action star Ollie Queen is trying to clean up his image and land parts that require him to do more than appear shirtless while fighting stuntmen. Pop star Felicity Smoak wants to be seen as an adult in time for the release of her new, grittier album. And talent manager John Diggle’s got an idea about what coverage of Oliver and Felicity’s brand new (and totally fake) romance could do for them both. http://archiveofourown.org/works/8025382/chapters/18375349

Thank God You're Alive by @alexiablackbriar13 - that olicity reunion scene in 7x21, slightly re-vamped with more hugs and kisses and concern because c'mon arrow... https://archiveofourown.org/works/18749404

P.S. Hong Kong: Was it Real?!? multi-chapter WIP by @cruzrogue for Olicity trope-tastic award: Fake Marriage - This is off season 3 Flashbacks. When Tommy goes to Hong Kong he doesn’t go alone he takes his friend Felicity as the best information system being to help him locate Oliver Queen. Tommy may leave empty handed but Felicity gets to be a bride… https://archiveofourown.org/works/15025697/chapters/34832747

// @emmaamelia95 // @mel-loves-all // @oliverfel4 // @green-arrows-of-karamel // @coal000 // @miriam1779 // @memcjo// @captainolicitysbedroom // @tdgal1 // @spaztronautwriter // @lalawo1// @quiveringbunny // @wrongshipper // @thebookjumper // @vaelisamaza // @myhauntedblacksoul // @lovelycssefan // @laurabelle2930 // @laxit21 //

#FabulousOlicityFanficFriday #olicity fanfiction #fic recs

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