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thetriumphantpanda · 7 months

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I Could Use Somebody | Joel Miller

The Checklist - Free Use

Chapter Summary | Joel, coming home from work frustrated and pent up, doesn't seem to care you're in the middle of a serious work meeting. He wants you? He'll have you.

Chapter Warnings | Basically porn without plot, this is a free use fic so please keep that in mind, consent conversations beforehand, oral sex (M&F), unprotected PiV sex, creampie, cum eating, fingering, these two get up to some questionable things on a zoom call, dirty talk, pet names (baby), established relationship, No Outbreak AU, No Use of Y/N.

Word Count | 3.2K

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Authors Note | I'm going to out myself so hard by telling you all this specific scenario is such a fantasy of mine and imagining Joel Miller being the one to give it to me was too much. The amount of pacing I had to do writing this is not worth imagining haha. I know this isn't for everyone, but I hope those of you into it enjoy it! Shoutout to @swiftispunk for starting off the flurry of voting for this next part - enjoy y'all. If you do enjoy this, reblogs and comments are always appreciated, and if you'd like to support me further, you can donate to my Ko-Fi.

A reminder that whilst this is part of a wider series, this can be read as a standalone if you wish.

Beautiful divider by @saradika

I no longer have a taglist, to keep up to date with my work, please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs and turn on notifications.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi.

You’re finishing up dinner, plate empty, sipping from a glass of water when Joel slips the now worn piece of paper over the table to you. Some things crossed off, some still waiting to be explored. You grin at him over your glass of water.

“Baby, I’m tired tonight.”

“I know, I ain’t fishing, I promise, just wanted to talk to you about this one.”

You look down at the little checklist, one of Joel’s fingers pointing to your handwriting, free use. You bite your lip a little, looking at him through your eyelashes.

“You know what it means?” He asks.

“Yeah,” You nod simply, “Means I let you have me whenever you want, right?” You shrug a little, “Why, you been doing your research, Miller?”

He snorts a little, shaking his head with a little laugh, “Sounds like you have too,” He takes a drink of his water, “Means you agree t’let me do whatever I want t’ya, whenever I want, but I need t’know if there’s anythin’ you don’t want me to do.”

You think for a minute, biting at your lip, “You can do whatever, just as long as I’m not asleep.”

Joel nods his head in agreement, sliding the piece of paper back over the table and into his pocket.

“I’m going to be living in pure anticipation over this now.”

“I know, baby,” He smirks, standing up to clear the plates from the table, dipping to kiss the top of your head as he pike yours up, “That’s part of the fun, right?”

You sigh, heel of your palm digging into our eyes. This meeting was dragging. This meeting definitely could have been an email. It’s now thirty minutes after you were meant to log off, and Jean from Finance won’t shut up about budgets and correct invoicing. Mark still hadn’t said his piece, and he’s known for droning on as well, so you’re going to have to wait at least another thirty minutes to give your update and leave.

Reaching over to pick up the now lukewarm cup of coffee on the desk, you hear the front door open. Sighing again, knowing that Joel is very rarely done with work before you are.

“Hello?” He calls into the house.

“Still in a meeting, baby!” You call back, office door ajar so he can hear you.

You can hear him climbing up the stairs, even without his boots on you can hear his heavy footfall coming down the hallway, his head peaking around the door frame.

“Camera’s off, thankfully.” You smile, turning in your office chair a little to reach your hand out to him.

“It’s late.” He comments, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips when you tilt your face up towards him.

Motioning your head to the screen, you say, “Jean won’t stop droning about budgets, I’m probably in it for the long haul.”

Joel runs a hand down the back of your head, fingers digging softly into the back of your neck which has you leaning back into his palm, rolling your shoulders as he works his thumb through the stress knot, “Did you say it was camera’s off?”

You nod your head, closing your eyes, leaning back into his touch. You can feel him running the tips of his fingers down your arm, fingers circling your wrist, which he then brings up, placing your palm again the front of his jeans where he’s already half-hard. The hand on the back of your neck is gentle, but firm, as it pulls you back a little, making you open your eyes to look up at him.

“You’re gonna suck my cock, baby,” It’s not a question, he isn’t asking, and he’s firm with it too, unbuckling his belt, “Been hard all day thinkin’ a’you, and I want you t’fix it.”

You swivel the chair a little, so you can bring your hands up to pop the button on his jeans and pull the zipper down. You pull his jeans down just to his mid-thigh, bringing your face forward to press soft kisses to the skin where the legs of his boxers are sitting, your palm rubbing gently up against the growing bulge tenting his underwear.

Joel reaches down, palm cupping your cheek softly, but when you look up at him, his eyes are dark, face stoic, “I said fix it baby, not tease me.”

You hook your fingers into the elastic around his hips, dragging the material down slowly, watching as his cock springs free when you’ve pulled his underwear down to meet his jeans. You can already feel the flicker of heat in your abdomen as you wrap your palm around his base, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to the skin around him, focusing your attention anywhere but where he wanted it, as your hand moves up and down his length.

Before he can chastise you again, you lean back a little, guiding the head of his cock to your mouth. You bring your lips the the underside of him, pressing your mouth all the way down, before using your tongue to lick all the way back up, relishing in the way Joel exhales, all shaky, when you flick the tip of your tongue to the underside of the tip of his cock. You let him rest on your tongue a little, fisting the base of his cock, before you wrap your lips around him, tongue swirling wet and hot around it.

Joel has always loved when you do this to him, and you’ve always loved the way you can make him come undone with just your mouth. He’s already groaning a little when you flatten your tongue against the underside of his cock, moving your head down, taking as much of him into your mouth as you can before you feel him nudge at the back of your throat. You drag your fist up his length as you pull your mouth back off him, pumping him a few times to wet his cock with your spit, before you carry on exactly as you were, slowly running your mouth up and down him, following the movement of your lips with your fist.

You’re still half-aware of the sound coming from your laptop next to you, you can still hear Jean talking, which is no surprise, but there’s something about her talking about the new budget codes for the next financial year, knowing you’re paying no attention to her and instead sucking your boyfriend’s cock, that makes you rub your thighs together. You’re so wrapped up that when Joel uses his palm to cup your chin, you think he just wants to look at you with his cock stuffed halfway down your throat, but then he’s tilting his head towards your computer.

“I think someone just asked you a question, baby.”

Joel is smirking as you pull your mouth off him, scrabbling to unmute yourself, “Sorry Jean, I didn’t quite catch that, could you repeat the question?”

She sighs, and you can see her in the tiny rectangle, shaking her head. Joel reaches down, taking hold of your hand to bring it back to his cock, his own hand covering yours as he guides your movements, jerking him off whilst Jean repeats her question.

“I said, can you send me your budget reporting by the end of the week so I can get it all imported into the master finance sheet ready for auditing?”

You’re keenly aware that although your camera is off, your hand is currently fisting Joel’s cock whilst you’re having a conversation about fucking budget sheets. You’re pretty sure if you put a hand in your panties right now you’d be soaked from the situation alone.

“Sorry Jean,” You apologise, “Yes, that should be fine, I can email those over before the end of Friday.”

You don’t even wait for her response, just click the microphone button again to mute yourself, turning back to Joel, who is moving your hand off of his cock, fisting the base of it himself to bring to back to your mouth.

He cups the back of your head in one of his wide palms, inching his cock back into the wet heat of your mouth, “What would Jean think baby?” He asks, starting short thrusts into your mouth, “If she knew you’d been jerkin’ me off whilst talkin’ to her?”

It’s a rhetorical question really, considering he won’t pull himself from your mouth to let you answer, but he knows her, he met her last year at the Christmas party, she’d be horrified, clutching the gold crucifix necklace she always wears and praying for your salvation probably.

“Want you t’get nice and sloppy, baby,” Joel coos, “Y’know how I like it.”

And you do, you know exactly how he likes it. You move your palms around his body, palms resting on the meat of his ass, fingers digging into the skin ever so gently as you you slacken your jaw around him, finally letting the head of his cock hit the back of your throat. He loves it when you get messy, when he can hear you gagging around him, when you pull back and he’s covered in your spit.

“Yeah, that’s it baby,” He encourages from above as the tip of your nose brushes against the soft skin of his tummy, “Takin’ me so fucking deep.”

His palm is still on the back of your head, holding you still as he starts those shallow thrusts into the back of your throat. You can feel saliva pooling at the corners of your mouth, the sounds of gulping and Joel’s hisses when you gag around him all that you can hear. You bring your hand lower, cupping his balls and almost preen when he gasps, massaging them gently as he fucks your face.

He pulls himself out of your mouth, holding you still, his cock still so close to your mouth, with trails of spit still connecting the two of you. As you take a breath, you’re aware that it’s now Mark’s voice you can hear, which still means you’ve got time until you say your piece, but time is running out.

Joel clutches your cheek in his palm, rubbing away the trail of tears he’s caused from fucking your face, “Gonna fuck you now, baby,” He says, stepping back to kiss your mouth, “Stand up.”

You do, Joel pushing the office chair away from you so he can stand behind you, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your leggings, pulling them down your legs to pool at your ankles, along with you underwear. He’s behind you, pressing himself against your ass before you know it, cock sliding through your slick folds. You’d be embarrassed that you’re so wet without him even touching you, but the way he slides himself into you, burying himself to the hilt in your aching cunt, has your brain blank immediately.

“So fuckin’ wet, baby,” He hisses from behind, hands holding your hips to keep you still, “All from suckin’ my cock, huh?”

Your palms are face down on the desk, body placed just to the side of where your laptop sits. You turn your head around to look at Joel behind you, catching Mark in his little rectangle on your screen - you have no idea what he’s talking about, but the thrill of knowing that you’re not paying attention because Joel is dragging his thick cock out of you, holding still before he slams himself back into you, and they have no idea that’s what you’re doing, makes your indifference to the conversation even more noticeable to you.

He’s rough with it today, not uncomfortably so, but you can tell he’s had a stressful day of it, you always can, when he grips your hips hard enough to leave fingerprints on your skin and does nothing but use you for his own pleasure. He’s always one to return the favour afterwards, getting you off with his fingers or his mouth, but there are just some times when he needs to let out his own frustrations first.

Joel snakes a hand up your spine over your t-shirt, letting his hand tangle in your hair before he pulls back harshly, arching your back into him, it causes a strangled cry to fall from your lips as his cock punches back into you, the thick sound of his skin slapping against yours as he brushes that spot inside you enough to cause tiny black spots to appear in your vision.

“Feel good baby?” He asks from behind you, leaning his chest across your back, tagging at your hair to pull your face to his, his teeth nibbling at the skin of your jaw, tongue licking across it afterwards.

The change in angle, with him led flat against your back is insane, his thrusts now deep and short inside you, his weight pushing you flat against the desk now as he presses his mouth to yours. You open against him immediately, tongue melding with his own, moans swallowed, breaths tasted as he keeps a firm grip in your hair.

“Fuck me,” He groans out, almost pained, “Feel so fucking good baby, gonna make me come.”

You gasp into his mouth, not so much kissing him anymore than you are just lips to lips as he presses further into you, head of his cock nudging painfully at your cervix as he chases his high. You can feel yourself clenching around him, walls tightening and fluttering around his cock as you can feel him start to falter, until he’s biting down on your shoulder through your shirt, groaning out into your skin as you feel him fill you.

It’s a feeling you’ll never tire of, unsure of how you ever went so long without letting him do it, when it feels this good to feel him pulsing inside of you, your name whispered into your ear with a press of a kiss behind it. The feeling of him so desperate and full for you that he’s dripping down your thigh before he’s even pulled himself out of you.

He doesn’t give you much time to recover. He’s pulling at the hem of your shirt to get you to stand, his other hand reaching behind him to get hold of the chair, which he guides you into.

“I think that’s pretty much it from me,” You can vaguely clock Mark saying in the background, signalling that you’re up next, “Does anyone have any questions before I hand over?”

Mercifully, someone does have a questions, which at least gives you time to smooth your hair and try and tamp down the fact you’ve just been fucked by your boyfriend when you should have been listening to the meeting. As you’re reaching down to your ankles to pick up your leggings and pull them back on, Joel’s hand circles your wrist.

“What do you think you’re doing, baby?” He asks, settling himself on his knees between your open ankles, pulling your leggings off completely, tossing them to the side.

“I’ve got to present in a minute.” You pant, pointing to the screen.

He nods his head in understanding, “You’re good at multitasking though, aren’t you?”

It takes a second for what he’s suggesting to settle in your mind, and you think about denying him, but then you remember the agreement, and the fact you’ve not come yet, and then a smirk appears on your face. You’re scooting your office chair further into him, widening your thighs as you do it, reaching out to drag your laptop to the edge of the desk as Joel settles his face into your cunt, tongue already flicking gently at your clit.

“I’m going to hand over to HR now.”

You take a deep breath, unmute yourself, and start talking, just as Joel sinks two of his fingers into your cunt, dragging a gasp from your lips, “Sorry everyone, my camera doesn’t seem to be working, but can you all hear me okay?” You ask, biting your lip at the end to stop a groan from escaping when Joel curls his fingers up into you.

There’s a muttering of agreement across the screen, so you launch into your usual end-of-month spiel, “We’ve had a good response to our employee survey,” You start, the flat of Joel’s tongue working over your bundle of nerves, you let out a cough to stifle the need to moan, “If you haven’t already, please encourage all of your team members to complete it so we can get an accurate picture of what people are feeling.”

You drop a hand to your thigh, where Joel’s hand is splaying your legs apart from him, squeezing onto his fingers as you whimper slightly, “We’ve also attempted to start streamlining our onboarding process, which we’ll test with teams who have new starters in the c-coming w-weeks.”

You look down at Joel, face between your thighs, looking up at you, his fingers pulled from you now, replaced with his tongue. You’re about to protest, tell him you’re a mess there, that he’d only just filled you up with his cum not minutes before, but the way his dark eyes are looking up at you, that familiar twinkle settling across them, and the fact you’re meant to be talking right now, you keep quiet.

“A-and finally,” You try and continue, feeling his tongue dragging through your folds, back up to your clit, “I know it’s only August, but we’re starting to plan our Christmas celebration, so keep an eye out for the date holder and please accept the meeting invite so we can have an idea of numbers, more information to follow.”

It’s a miracle that you mute yourself in time to complete fall apart when Joel sucks your clit into his mouth, rolling his warm tongue across that nub of nerves. The pressure, teamed up with his fingers back inside you, have you falling apart with a scream, your hand flying to his hair, tugging at his curls as he works you through it, thighs shaking, clenching together until he’s forcing them apart, dragging his tongue back down to your entrance, swirling through your combined slick and his cum. He pushed up from on his knees, clutching his palms to your cheeks before he’s putting his tongue on yours again, letting you taste the mix of you and him on his tongue.

“We taste good, huh baby?”

You bite your lip, “That was hot.”

“Yeah?” He smirks, “What about it?”

“Apart from you eating me out whilst I give a very serious company update?” You shrug, “The fact that you ate your own cum from my pussy probably did it.”

He leans forward, pressing another kiss to your mouth, “Sounds like that’s all done,” He comments, you look over his shoulder to the now empty Zoom meeting, with just you left in it, “You hungry?”

You reach over his shoulder and leave the meeting too, closing your laptop down for the night, “Starving.”

624 notes · View notes

dat-town · 5 months

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you are the knife i turn inside myself (that is love)

Characters: Seunghun & OC (Jieun)

Setting & genre: angst, hurt/comfort, set in the world of Save Me Kill Me MV

Summary: Jieun had always been an enigma. Yet, Seunghun can’t stop loving her.

Warnings: mentions of suicide (Yonghee’s), past attempted suicide (MC), bullying, parents’ divorce and neglectful behaviour (MC’s), deceased parents (Seunghun’s), academic pressure, depression (MC’s), therapy ‒ if any of these topics are triggering for you, please don’t interact with the fic. if you would like to know what to expect under any warning beforehand, feel free to send me an ask

International suicide hotline: https://blog.opencounseling.com/suicide-hotlines/

Words: 6k

Author’s note: it’s a spin-off to in your eyes i see another me, for my convenience I named the previous reader, as Jinah. I don’t think it’s a must to read it but it gives more context. Heavily inspired by the CIX story films and Save Me Kill Me MV, so the boys’ characters resemble that more than their idol personality. This story is heavily Seunghun-centric.

Title taken from Kafka, read the meaning here.

For @restlessmaknae, thank you for always being such a supporter, for introducing me to new music (and groups) and for fangirling with me over fictional characters or real people in general. I hope next year you find a place where they appreciate you the way you deserve it and that it will be a better one health-wise. I wish you more (kpop) concerts, travel experiences and happiness! love you <3

Seunghun couldn't tell when exactly he fell in love with Jieun. Was it love at first sight? The way her fringe had fallen into her dark eyes, the fierce fire in them, the way she had looked at him like everything was a challenge ever since the first day of high school? Or was it much later when she had held his trembling hand during his mother's funeral?

Seunghun wasn't sure but he knew one thing: he didn't remember how it was to not be in love with her. That's why it hurt when he started to notice her building up walls, acting weird and hanging out with Byounggon more. The boy told himself he wasn't jealous, he had nothing against the other guy after all, but lying could only take him that far.

Then his whole world turned upside down when it turned out that Jieun had a twin who pretended to be her while she was in a hospital. In a coma. Because of attempted suicide.

It was like an ice cold shower because Seunghun would rather have Jieun be with somebody else than dead. Or in pain. But Jieun was like a rose with sharp thorns, so to love her was like handing her a knife, ready to be hurt.

The smell of the hospital was the same. Seunghun remembered it all too well. It didn't matter that it wasn't the same building or that months had passed. He had spent too much time beside Yonghee's bed, praying that he wouldn't leave like his mom, to forget. And now here he was, right by the unconscious Jieun's side doing the same.

She looked so vulnerable in the hospital bed, all pale and put on machines that kept her alive. So unlike how she really was: wild and lively like ember among ash. Whenever Seunghun came to visit, his heart sank at the sight and he couldn't help checking the heart monitor just to make sure. Hoping that one of these days it would be different, that she would open her eyes and everything would be okay. What a wishful thinking but it's not like he had anything better to do.

"Your sister comes back from the UK tomorrow. You should see Byounggon, he's like an excited puppy," he recited, sitting on the uncomfortable metal chair next to Jieun's bed. He didn't believe she heard him but the nurses told him it could help, so he did his best. It made it feel less weird too, just being there, silent, watching her sleep. Like this, he could pretend they were gossiping, like she could chuckle anytime soon and call him out on his bullshit when he exaggerated. Not this time though; ever since Jinah notified them that she had finished all her final exams and was heading back to Seoul for the summer, Byounggon was restless. "How long do you think it will take them to get together officially? We all saw how they looked at each other and long distance can't be an excuse now."

Honestly, given Jieun's and Byounggon's arguing history, Seunghun didn't think the girl would have been thrilled to know that her twin got so close with the guy, but he would have rather taken her frustration than her silence at this point. He would have given anything for her to wake up. Maybe he was selfish but he wasn't ready to lose her too. Too many good people had left them last year.

"I miss you," he whispered, toying with a loose thread of her thin duvet. The realization wasn't sudden but his confession was. It tasted bittersweet on his tongue or like sour candy.

Seunghun gulped while watching Jieun's porcelain face, her dark lashes and listened to the rhythmical beeps of the machine beside her. Nothing even stirred. Gently, he reached out to take her hand in his, so cold against his sweaty palms, so still and unlike her. Jieun wasn't fond of public displays of affection after all. He sometimes got away with a brief hug or nudge on the shoulder, but Jieun was often quick to pull away. But she was like that with everybody, so Seunghun didn't take it to heart.

He squeezed her hand softly, suddenly nervous at being so daring, but naively he hoped that maybe the cliché things from dramas would turn out to be true for once. But no, even as he stood up to leave and let go of her pale hands, the heart monitor's beeps remained steady.

With Jinah back in town, they had one more person at those Saturday hang outs Hyunsuk liked to call movie nights in honour of the film club they used to be a part of.

Eventually all of them had graduated, even Byounggon and Jinyoung had managed to do so without having to retake the senior year. Seunghun wasn't sure it would have happened without Jinah. Sure, her lying to them and impersonating her sister had been morally wrong but with her around they had all gotten a new perspective: that they all had something to live for and none of the people who had left them would have wanted them to feel otherwise. At first, Seunghun had thought that it had been naive to think so, so unlike Jieun, but then he had gotten to know about her in the hospital and realized that maybe it had been their pessimistic mindset of theirs all along that had pushed the girl to the edge.

Hyunsuk and Byeol had gotten into the same college, sociology majors – she had wanted to study that and he hadn't known what else to do –, and it was cute how they lived their campus romance. Jinyoung had started working in a coffee shop and whenever they visited him, female customers were making heart eyes at him. Byounggon had gotten a job at a convenience store and often took night shifts because he had always been a night owl (and because with the timezone difference, this way he could talk more with Jinah), but with her back in time, it was most likely up to change.

And Seunghun? He had taken on a few children's dance classes to teach and was studying for the civil worker exam. With house bills to pay he couldn't allow himself to dream big. With all of them pressed up against each other on a couch, watching a movie, he was already paying his dream coins thinking of Jieun – that she would make faces but like this anyway –, wishing she was there.

It was almost the end of the visiting hours when Seunghun woke up. He didn't mean to fall asleep over Jieun's hospital bed, arms folded like a pillow but he was up late learning a new choreography. He loved the lack of crushing thoughts when he was dancing, the soreness in his muscles and the beats of music the only thing he was aware of. No what ifs or guilt or anxiousness, just dance. Except when Jieun had been watching him dance before because then his thoughts had been all about her.

The boy startled and pulled back, scooting back in his chair. He yawned as he rubbed his eyes. Then he froze, eyes widening.

Jieun was watching him.

Her eyes were misty and unfocused but she was awake. Seunghun stood up so vehemently that he almost knocked his chair back. Her name was a prayer of gratitude as he called it. The soft sound made the girl focus on him. Breathing through the plastic mask over her face, heartbeat measured by the wires put on her body, white hospital grown over her pale skin, Jieun seemed like a stranger but her eyes, they were still the same: sad but with fire in them.

Seunghun held his breath while a single drop of tear rolled down Jieun's temple, then she closed her eyes again right before the nurses arrived.

Seunghun was sent out while the doctors and nurses ran a million tests on the girl. He called Jinah and wrote in the group chat but he didn't know what else to do. He was pacing, walking up and down the corridor and while this was what he was waiting for, for her to wake up, it was also nerve-wrecking.

"How is she?" Seunghun ran up to the nurse who just came out of the room.

"Better than expected. But I can't tell you the details. Only family members are entitled to know medical details."

It left a sharp feeling in Seunghun's gut after spending in the hospital hours every week, but he wasn't surprised. He needed the family's permission to be able to visit too, so he didn't push it.

"Can I see her?" He asked instead, but the nurse looked at him uncertainly, with pity.

"I'm sorry but… the patient specifically said she doesn't want you to see her like that. Nobody apart from her family actually," she bobbed her head apologetically before hurrying away, leaving the boy behind.

Disheartened, Seunghun sank down onto the row of uncomfortable plastic chairs in the corridor and tried not to feel hurt. He knew how proud Jieun was, how much she hated to show weakness to others. He should have expected it, but it still stung.

He didn't know how much time had passed by the time the doctors and rest of the nurses left or when Jinah and Byounggon arrived. He just sat there, waiting, waiting. He wasn’t sure what for, not anymore.

Jinah told all of them that according to the doctors Jieun would make full recovery. She had to attend rehabilitation because she just spend months not moving and obligatory therapy due to the attempted suicide. She wasn't particularly happy about either of those nor having to repeat her senior year. But at least she didn't look like she was disappointed that she survived or so Jinah said. Not that they talked about it. Jieun wasn’t quite generous with words, not when it came to topics like this.

After a week of various examinations they would let her out of the hospital and she would spend two weeks in the mountains for recovery. Three weeks until Seunghun could see her again. If she was ready then.

"Seunghun, you are a beat behind. Where's your mind at?" His dance teacher's scolding pulled him out of his running thoughts.

Thoughts around and about her. Always her.

"Sorry," he mumbled and tried not to think of Jieun.

But he saw her even when he closed his eyes.

Jieun was alive and awake yet she had never felt farther. Seunghun's messages went unread on her phone and he only knew what was happening to her from Jinah. It felt wrong. Weren't they supposed to be best friends? When had it all gone wrong?

When she had jumped? Or when Yonghee had done?

Or when he had fallen in love?

Seunghun felt like she was slipping through his fingers like sand. It was almost like he was losing her all over again. For real, this time.

People said that it was natural to drift apart with your friends after school, once you didn't see each other every day, but he couldn't let go. He knew it wasn't about him graduating. Jieun was avoiding him. Seunghun told himself that she must have needed time. She was one of the strongest people he knew and she hated when she was seen as weak or vulnerable, she must have resented that he had been with her in the hospital. But how could he have not? At least he had been close to her that way.

The day after Jieun got back from the mountains, Seunghun got a text in the middle of his teens class. It was one simple message:

Can we meet?

His heart thrummed like a traitor when he saw it. He was sweaty and tired, but he wouldn't have missed out on the opportunity.

They agreed to meet at the park they often hung out later that night. Seunghun was more nervous than he would have liked to admit. His hands got clammy again after taking a quick shower and water droplets were still falling from his hair when he jumped on the bus. He was drumming on his knees to the rhythm of his heart, a jumpy little dance.

He didn't know what to expect. After months of not talking to Jieun, he wasn't sure. After her not wanting him to see her, he got even more uncertain. He kept replaying their last conversation. The one Jinah had confirmed wasn't with her. The way Jieun had smiled at him, nudged him playfully and stolen his fries. It had been painfully normal. He had used to beat himself up over not noticing the signs but all of them had been a mess after what had happened with Yonghee and Seunghun had been busy with his mother's funeral too. There had been a new norm after that, nothing had been the same, so nothing had felt out of the ordinary. Nothing had felt like ‘Yonghee all over again’.

Jieun was already there when he got to the park. She sat on a bench with her long hair falling onto her shoulders, moonlight shining on her fair skin beautifully. She wore her signature eyeliner and black nail polish which reminded Seunghun of times before she got to the hospital where she was pale and bare faced, looking young, innocent and so so fragile. Seeing her again like this knocked the air out of the boy.

"Hey," she looked up, straightening her spine a bit once she was aware of his presence. The small movement didn't sit well with Seunghun. They were closer than to act differently around each other… Or so he thought they were.

"Hey," he echoed and took the seat next to her, his hands gripping on the edge of the bench. It felt unreal, being so close to her again, and she was awake, warm and real. "You… you look better."

It was a clumsy compliment but Seunghun knew Jieun would have never let him get away with calling her pretty or something like that. She didn't like that and the boy never knew why but according to Jinah they were always compared based on their academics and looks too. Early signs of Jieun's rebellion came with her going against what their parents would have liked to see her as: the ideal, well-behaving, perfect little angel.

"Better than half-dead in the hospital? Jeez, thanks," the girl snorted and her tone made Seunghun wince. Joking with her almost dying wasn't funny to him. He didn't say anything though, so silence embraced them for an uncomfortable moment.

"I'm sorry," Jieun sighed eventually and she sounded sincere.

Seunghun wasn't sure why she apologized though. For the insensitive joke? For ignoring his messages? For not letting him visit her in the hospital once she was awake? Or for the reason she had been at the hospital in the first place? Nevertheless, Seunghun shook his head, not wanting her to blame herself.

"Don't be."

"I am," she insisted, her eyes intense when their gazes met. "I never wanted to hurt you."

The boy sucked in a breath.

He was at fault too: he cared too much. But he couldn't say it was okay nor he could say he wasn't hurt. He was so damn confused at the same time as he was just happy to have her back. Because she was back, right? She wouldn't disappear like that again?

He wanted to ask. He wanted to beg even though he didn't have the right to tell her what to do. He wanted her to stay, but they didn't talk about it, about the elephant in the room, since everything was still so fragile.

Instead Seunghun looked into her deep dark night of her eyes and smiled.

"I missed you," he said.

Stay with me, he wished.

"I missed you, too," she said with the smallest of genuine smiles in the corner of her mouth.

For then, it was enough.

Admittedly, Seunghun had feared that Jieun wanted to meet because she would have preferred to cut ties with him, that it would have been a goodbye, maybe her moving away or just trying to start a new life. He was terribly relieved when it turned out that she just didn't want to apologize over messages for being distant ever since she woke up. She just needed time and space and she didn't like the idea of him wasting his time beside her hospital bed like he had done with Yonghee, too. He wouldn't have called it a waste of time though, he'd had nothing better to do and he had wanted to be there for them. Since he hadn’t been able to help, this was something he could have at least done. But convincing Jieun something like this was a lost cause and he didn't want to argue. A part of him just wanted things to go back as they were but another part of him, the one that wasn't a coward, wanted to be mature about it and talk it through. But he was afraid Jieun would put her walls up and shut him out then and he didn't want to lose her. He knew how much she disliked that therapy already that she had to attend for a year.

So Seunghun did the next best thing he could think of: making sure Jieun had reasons to live. He started writing a list, a list that he hoped would never end, of things that he knew she wanted to do, achieve or see. Be it a band concert, a trip to Gangnueng or just a choker she bookmarked on her phone. He knew her well and long enough to easily come up with a dozen list items but the hardest part was being smooth enough at delivering these that Jieun wouldn't call him out on it.

Like when they were out late again one night and he thought using that excuse that he was hungry would be enough to suppress her doubts.

"It's just so random," she grumbled when he told her dinner would be on him. It wasn't even anything fancy, just bibimbap that she always loved.

"I wanted to take you out from my first paycheck but you weren't awake then, so here we are," he echoed the practiced explanation. Technically it wasn't even a lie, he had wanted to do that. But now he had one more reason to.

When they crossed an item off his unwritten list, Seunghun added two more points in its place. With time, it turned into a little bucket list about things he wanted to do with her. Hyunsuk teased him that it was almost like he was planning dates for them and Seunghun had to make him promise not to call them dates out loud in front of Jieun. So what if he wanted to try out the new bingsu place with her or watch falling stars together or discover old record stores? He just wanted to be with her.

He knew it was only a matter of time that Jieun noticed the pattern and actually said something about it and then it would end. Seunghun guessed she kind of already knew, she just entertained him by letting him throw in a new idea for every weekend. Sometimes she asked if he shouldn't have studied instead but eventually let him be after listening to his nonsense excuses like how taking a break would fuel his productivity eventually.

Seunghun thought he could act like nothing had happened. Because it seemed like this was what Jieun wanted.

But sometimes he just couldn't.

"Jinah told us that you went to a psychologist," he said quietly after they visited Yonghee and his steps halted when Jieun fell behind.

"She shouldn't have. She had no right," she snapped, sounding both cold and angry at the same time, brushing past him, clearly not wanting to talk about it.

It was exactly what Seunghun wanted to avoid, but the cat was already out of the bag, so he didn’t want it to be an affair to brush off. He caught up with the girl, grabbing her wrist just temporarily to stop her and slip in front of her vision.

"You could have told me," he added, quiet and gentle, and Jieun's anger seemed to fade. She always seemed to soften just a bit when it came to him. Maybe that was also a reason why he fell for her. Because she made him feel special.

"You were struggling already because of your mom on top of what happened with Yonghee," she reasoned and Seunghun wished that she would have been more selfish than that. How could she have thought that her struggles would have been too much on top of everything as if she mattered less to him?

The boy sighed, shaking his head.

"That's not the only reason," he argued because he knew her and she respected him enough not to deny.

"That's not the only reason," she agreed, keeping eye contact. Brave, brave Jieun, why was she so afraid of showing vulnerability as if it was a weakness? Didn't she know that he wouldn't have thought less of her because of something like that?

"Can you tell me now? What happened? I would have never thought that you…" Seunghun wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence and it was probably the worst timing and not the best location either. But at least the streets were vacant and they were the only people under this alcove. The stars would keep their secrets.

"I wanted to know how Yonghee felt," Jieun shrugged, trying to play it off but Seunghun saw the nervousness in her movements, the way she put her weight from one leg to the other. “Was he scared? Was it fast? Did it hurt? Maybe if it was fast and painless, it would be easier to accept it.”

Seunghun imagined her walking over the bridge, watching the river rush by underneath her and thinking of Yonghee. Of the boy with the gentlest soul and all those bruises on his fair skin. He imagined her screaming and reckless, finding comfort in the dark and the waves. The impact of her jump held magnitudes. It could never be fast and painless, not for those who loved them.

“Do you know what was the last thing I told him?” Jieun asked but Seunghun didn’t answer.

How could he have known when she had never told him? What he knew was that she had gotten into an argument with Yonghee not much before he had left them. But that was nothing new, Jieun had got into her fair share of arguments with all of them, especially Byounggon, because she was like an ember, fierce and restless. Yonghee had known this, he had known that her words were sometimes harsher than she intended.

“I called him a coward. I told him he was weak. That if he wasn’t going to stand up for himself, it’s like he’s letting them kill him,” Jieun’s lips trembled and she looked away, her voice getting breathy. “We were his safe space and I made him feel like he was a disappointment. I…”

A sob escaped her. It was so sudden that Seunghun didn’t see it coming. He had never seen Jieun cry. Not at Yonghee’s funeral, not when she had broken her arm trying a skateboarding trick in their freshman year. Yet, it was like an instinct: winding his arms around her, pulling her into his embrace. He half-expected her to push him away, to build up the walls once again just to prove that she was strong and independent. But maybe, finally she knew that from time to time it was okay to be vulnerable, with the right people it wasn’t a bad thing.

“I… What if that was the last straw? What if it was like I pushed him over the edge?” She sobbed into his shirt and he held her tighter as if he could keep her together as she was spiralling down. He had no idea she held so much guilt and grief inside.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he whispered into her hair and murmured other reassuring words while storing her back. Yes, they were all bystanders and maybe they could have offered help, could have pushed more but Yonghee had loved them and he insisted that he was okay. There was no way they could have known what had been going on behind his smiles.

Jieun cried for a long time. Years worth of tears dried up on Seunghun’s white tee as she pulled back and wiped away the rest from her cheeks.

“Shit. I shouldn’t have dumped all that on you,” she sighed, her voice raspy from all that crying and the boy practically saw her build up her walls level by level as she composed her facial expressions and wiped away her smudged makeup. She was mentally running away, so the boy told her the only words he thought that could stop her.

"Jieun... you are the strongest person I know."

The girl blinked at him in disbelief, his reflection clear in her shiny eyes.

"Do you really still think that?" She asked ironically with the certainty of someone ragged and patched up, scars from her fall still fading into her pale skin. But to him, she had never been broken.

"Yeah, I really do," Seunghun nodded, convinced and genuine.

She had never looked stronger.

Seunghun was hovering over his textbooks in the pleasant warmth the coffee shop where Jinyoung worked provided when somebody stopped by his table. His first thought was the barista boy but the mellow female voice that greeted him proved him wrong. Even after months of knowing Jinah, sometimes the striking similarity of the twins still surprised him. Most likely because he had spent years without knowing about the other girl's existence. But now that he knew and the girl stopped pretending to be Jieun, it was also painfully obvious in just how many subtle ways they were different. It wasn't just about the lack of eyeliner – which Byounggon had noticed since day one –, but the way they styled their hair, the way they dressed or the way they talked. There was that warm smile on Jinah's face too that Jieun so rarely showed. Looking back it was impossible to not tell them apart.

"Hi, how's studying?" She asked, sounding sincerely curious as her fingers intertwined over her iced frappé.

"As okay as it can get," the boy shrugged, straightening his back, using her presence as an excuse to focus on something else other than the material. "And what are you doing here?"

"Just getting coffee while I wait for Gon to finish his shift," she explained and glanced at her watch, checking the time, before pointing at the chair across from Seunghun. "Can I join you until then?"

"Sure," the boy nodded, trying not to show any lingering awkwardness that remained from the time when she had been pretending to be Jieun. He wasn't angry at her anymore, he understood her reason no matter how wild it was but he still couldn't forget the confusion he had felt when he had thought he had been starting to lose Jieun to Byounggon only to realize that it hadn’t been her to begin with.

Small talk with Jinah wasn't as awkward as he thought though. He asked her about how she was holding up in the Korean summer weather and told her about his upcoming civil servant exam. Only when they seemed to run out of easy topics like that did she bring up her sister.

"Did Jieun tell you anything about Gon and me?" She asked, fidgeting with her napkin.

Seunghun furrowed his eyebrows. Why would they have talked about them? Was something up? Should he have known something? He thought things were going well.

"Uhm, no. Why?"

Jinah seemed a bit uncertain at the outright question. She was probably embarrassed to bring it up herself.

"She doesn't really like him, huh?" She whispered, tapping her nails against the glass. "And it's not like I need her approval but... she's still my sister, you know."

Well, Seunghun didn't know. He didn't have any siblings and up until last year he had no idea Jieun had. But after getting to know Jinah and their close bond with her twin despite being separated for years, he thought he understood why she felt that way.

"Jieun doesn't hate Byounggon or anything like that. They are just too similar in a way," he told her eventually, thinking of how vocal they both could be about their opinions, how fierce they could fight for their loved ones or how reckless they could be if they thought it was the right thing to do. They had similar enough personalities to clash because neither of them liked to be proven wrong... or seen vulnerable. They were the lone wolves that could lead packs. "Maybe the same reason why she doesn't think she is fit for happiness is why she would prefer if you stayed away from him."

Jieun was good at holding grudges but the one she forgave the hardest was herself. As if she didn't deserve it just because she made some honest-to-god mistakes.

"The same way she stays away from you?" Jinah asked and Seunghun's eyes widened, his ears on fire.

"Did she–"

"She didn't need to say anything, but I can tell that she is guarded whenever it's about you. She cares about you, a lot, but she doesn't want others to know," Jinah interrupted him before he could have asked and yeah, that sounded very much like Jieun. "While I was pretending to be her, I heard girls whispering that she didn't deserve you. That's also probably why she had 'bitch' written over her locker and who knows what else happened to her that made her think it would be a bad idea to… let you closer, I guess."

Seunghun hummed, more to himself than to her, his hands in fists, knuckles white in his lap. Was he a bad friend for not knowing about it? For thinking that something so petty couldn't get to Jieun?

He wasn't sure he had the right to ask more even if Jinah knew more, so he stayed silent and then watched Jinah's face brighten and following her gaze, he saw Byounggon by the door, with the same, small but happy smile on his face. They were so obviously in love that it made Seunghun wonder when it had stopped hurting for them.

Seunghun made a plan. It wasn’t a very thorough or foolproof plan but summer was ending and he really should have stopped being a coward. Life was short and he didn’t want to live with regrets.

He asked Jieun to meet at the playground in the park where they often hang out. This late it was empty and Seunghun was sitting on one of the two metal swings, enjoying the last of the summer breeze in his face. Jieun arrived with soft steps and a not so soft push on his swing. Her laughter that followed his yelp was a chime of bells in the night.

"So what's the occasion?" She asked, straight to the point, taking a seat next to him, not yet sensing his nervousness, so the boy decided it was better to just tip off the bandage.

"I thought we could get away from the city before you go back to school," he said once he was sitting up straight again. He reached into his backpack and handed her a return train ticket to Gangneung, her favorite beach town. She took it with a frown, her surprise morphing into something akin to embarrassment mixed with frustration. Not a good sign but the boy tried not to lose hope as he waited patiently for her to say something.

"You don't have to do this. You don't have to, I don’t know, trying to convince me that life is beautiful or whatever," Jieun scoffed but her fingers grazed across the paper ticket in her hands like it was something precious. Her addition almost sounded like resignation. "I don't want to die."

The not anymore echoed somewhere between them.

"I know. But I want to do these things with you," Seunghun insisted because it wasn't just about that. What happened to her made him realize that life was fragile and fleeting, he didn't have all the time in the world to wait around for a chance with her. He didn't want to procrastinate these plans anymore.

But it wasn't enough for Jieun, it never was. She liked logic and reasons and the truth.

"Why?" She asked firmly and Seunghun felt like he was held at gunpoint.

Because we are best friends sounded like a lie.

"I want to be the one you do these things with," he admitted and it sounded like a confession. He didn't plan it but his voice softened as he looked at her, his eyes were probably full of the longing he tried to hide so hard all these years because he knew she would reject him for a better or worse reason.

"Seunghun…" Jieun sighed and he thought this was it, she knew and she would reject him. Of course, she knew. He wasn't exactly subtle, even Jinah knew and she knew him for the least amount of time. Jieun looked at him and the boy held his breath, waiting for the blow. The invisible gun, aimed at his heart, fired. "You deserve better. I'm such a mess and a bad influence. You deserve a pretty girl who is kind and patient."

It didn't hurt as much as he expected. Jieun said nothing about her feelings or that his were ridiculous or one-sided. She just said what she thought was true because she had no idea how he saw her, how much he could thank her. She might not have been the conventional idea of pretty but to him, she was the prettiest. And bad influence? When it was her who pushed him to believe in himself and keep trying because he could do anything?

"I don't want anybody else," he said because he knew he couldn't have convinced her of anything else. “I like you.”

Jieun abruptly stood up from her swing and leaned over him, grabbing the metal chains to support herself just above his hands, her hair falling around them like a silk curtain and her warm breath fanning over his skin. Seunghun felt heat rush to his cheeks as he kept eye contact and warmth spread through his whole body from the point where her pinky brushed against his fingers.

"Why me?" Jieun asked and it was the most ridiculous question because the boy couldn't have said why it could not have been her.

The girl who had taken the blame when they had gotten caught being late from school because there had been a long queue for the waffle they had bought before classes. The one who had been there for more of his dance recitals than his own parents. The only one who had told him he could do it even when he hadn’t believed it. His safe place. His first love.

"It could never be anybody else," he whispered. He didn't mean it literally and she knew it. There were girls who had approached him before both in class and at the dance academy but he didn't care. To him, there was only Jieun.

"Idiot," she murmured but there was no edge to her words, only fondness. She sat back down on the swing next to him, feet kicking sand.

Seunghun turned to her, watching her expressions closely before he reached for her hand. First, he just tentatively held it, half-expecting Jieun to pull away, like she always did but when she didn't, he intertwined their fingers. They were both holding on.

What was love if not this? Feeling content just by sharing a space, this kind of closeness between two people? Knowing that by being vulnerable with them, they could hurt you and yet you willingly give them the power because you hope they wouldn't? Why? Because they love you too.

#cix angst #cix scenarios #seunghun angst #seunghun scenarios #cix seunghun #stories

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forbidding-souda · 3 years

Note

headcanons for Kazuichi, Leon, and Mondo with a s/o who has trouble eating?

Kazuichi Souda, Leon Kuwata, and Mondo Oowada with a S/O who has trouble eating

i'm assuming you meant mentally and not physically but

anyway send more asks like this . anyone please . i'm dying to write more about this

tmi don't read this if it's triggering but around literally last year my intestines went bLEH and i couldn't eat anything but broccoli for literally like 3 months and i was so so badly underweight. now i'm a strong muscle man ig but i stopped exercising like a month ago because it started making me uncomfortable LMAOSDJSKANX<D

currently listening: craving for fresh shit by torsofuck

album: torsofuck / lymphatic phlegm

-Mod Souda

Kazuichi Souda

❤ He almost doesn't even notice. He's gullible in the way that - if you tell him you aren't hungry, or that you've eaten beforehand, or that your stomach hurts: he will believe you. Why would you lie to him? What would your motivation be? He eats a lot, anyway. This also motivates you to ask him to finish your food. He'll do it. He always does. I don't think he'd see the problem with you hardly eating until you point it out or warn him beforehand. You have a hard time eating? As in, not getting the nutrients you need? He's going to get so hurt, feel so betrayed (not towards you - but towards your brain for giving his lover such a hard time).

❤ He will offer you small foods. Things like fruits: apples, pears, or persimmons. He loves making smoothies for you. He likes drinking smoothies after he works out, he has a whole freezer dedicated to the store-bought ingredient meshes. He tries to fill you up with healthy, portionable foods just to keep your stomach fool. If it's the calories you're worried about, he gets you things like seaweed or apple cinnamon oatmeal bites.

"It's good for you."

You know it is, and even if you didn't, he has said this many times before.

He continues, "I'll take the first few bites and you can finish the rest, alright?"

For a second, you're annoyed. How about you just eat it all yourself? You stop wanting him to care: wishing he would just let you deteriorate. You have to remind yourself that you're the one in the 'wrong', not him, and that maybe it'll be good to listen to him.

❤ With practice, he has learned the things that tick you off vs. the things that actually help you.

❤ No matter how low in mood he is that day, or how angry somebody has made him - he will always have time to help you eat. He will always be encouraging and sympathetic.

❤ He might even ask Mikan about it - would she be able to help some? As a nurse she has to have a say in it, right?

❤ There's a genuine effort and it's one that you can sense perfectly.

Leon Kuwata

❤ He noticed your hands were always empty. Usually after games, people's arms would be filled with snacks and drinks. They're be slurping on their icy's and eating bags of chips, hotdogs, nachos, amongst the other things the stadiums offer. You never had any of that. Though, it's not that he would regularly eat any of that food anyway. He had brushed it off as you being a health-freak, or certainly, not hungry during those hours. But no matter how many hours the game went on, no matter how many after-game dinners the two of you had went to, he had never seen you eat.

❤ Dates regarding food were just not a thing. He brought up restaurants before, and you politely declined, making him a bit uneasy. His idea was to leave you alone about it. If you weren't comfortable with sharing that space with him, then it's fine, and he definitely does not want to push you. But the longer it went on, the more his thoughts began to race. Is it a health concern? Should he be getting involved? Every time he would eat something he would think about you. How would you feel if you ate this?

❤ He'd also try to pull the if you won't eat then I won't eat thing.

❤ And he's stock the fridge with small cups of pudding and jello in hope of you just picking it up. Thinking that you even open the fridge in the first place.

❤ Sometimes when you sit in the living room, he'll toss you one of the small cups, eating one next to you. He'll even throw away your trash (he does this because he wants to see just how much you ate).

❤ In a more NSFW light, he'd be the one to make your brain relate food to sexual pleasure, deeming it a more... positive with connotations (which, by the way, this is an actual method that works).

❤ I think no matter how deep it gets, he won't truly be able to understand the uncomfortable tension between you and food, but he will know that it's not exactly a good mentality and it's one that which he should encourage the changing.

Mondo Owada

❤ Would feel inclined to force feed you. He is going to feel the strong desire to just pin you down and put the food in your mouth. He isn't going to, but damn does your denial of food sometimes piss him off, especially when you're out in public with him and his boys. He feels incomplete and like a horrible boyfriend when he can't feed you. The traditional sense of 'taking care of the one who is mine' has dug deep within his values, and knowing that you are unwell in a way that he can't control is painful to him. So just eat a bite (or two) of his food when you order nothing. His eyes will light up once he notices that you're leeching off of him.

❤ Would steal your safe foods for you. What is it you want? Now, you have this special privilege, of since you can hardly do anything - even the small things you do are rewarded greatly. So what do you want to eat? You get to pick every night. If it means you'll eat, Mondo will spare his bias. Any drinks you want from the store? The moment he walks into any establishment the workers are already cowering in fear. Is that gum you want? Excellent. He practically gets it for free.

❤ He is going to have you sit on his lap while you eat. Even if it's a small amount, now you're sitting here, so have fun. When you're in this position he can also offer more to you. And you being so close to him while he eats often tempts you.

With his hand patting your cheek, you chew slowly, trying not to make a face with your discomfort. You sigh, "you rob me of joy."

He only laughs at you. His hand moves down to your shoulder. "That's my job, you know?"

You let out a small yeah yeah before settling in deeper to his lap, resting your head against his neck, breathing softly. "I know."

❤ He goes out to restaurants a lot - which is funny - because there is only around four that he can actually go to and not get kicked out (or the authorities coming).

❤ He is fine with you not ordering anything as long as you two share a platter. He is a fast and devious eater anyway, so even if you ate normally, you wouldn't get a handful out of that plate. This is perfect for you.

❤ He loves sharing drinks with you, as well. He drinks a lot of things. These fill you up - and he's content with you getting your nutrients from the drinks, so he stops bugging you about eating too much.

❤ As long as you're not dying or being annoying, he won't bother you about your eating habits at all.

#kazuichi souda x reader #kazuichi soda x reader #danganronpa kazuichi #kazuichi soda #mondo owada #mondo owada x reader #mondo oowada #leon kuwata x reader #leon kuwata

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youwerenevermeanttofeelalone · 3 years

Text

A Heartbeat Away | Damian Wayne

✦ pairing — older!Damian Wayne x gender neutral!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 2.7k

✦ based off the song I Should’ve Kissed You by One Direction

✦ summary — Damian is haunted by the fact that he only said good night when he should have kissed you.

✦ warnings — light angst, mentions of pregnancy (a minor character is pregnant), mentions of food and beverages, fluff.

✦ author's note i — randomly remembered my obsession with this song and couldn’t get it out of my head.

✦ author's note ii — the parts in italics are flashbacks.

════════════════════════

Ever since he started living with Jason, Damian found himself straying away from the things that held him back.

His life would never be normal, but in hindsight, he could admit things weren’t as bad.

The fallout with his father came crashing down in the worst moment possible — Dick was dead and his relationship with Tim wasn’t the best.

As little as he knew Jason, he was sure he could trust him so he asked for his help instead of somebody else’s.

And Jason didn’t say no. Whether he had the heart to do it or not was irrelevant because he still took Damian in and helped him find a job.

He hated said job.

‘It’s a job,’ you had told him, ‘you’re not supposed to like it.’

You.

Damian rarely stopped thinking about you. Calling it infatuation felt like an understatement, and yet he couldn’t find a better word to describe the whirlwind of emotions you gave him.

He still remembered the day he met you for the first time.

Jason paced in the living room, perking up every time he heard a noise outside the apartment.

You’re driving me insane,” Damian said from the small dining table.

”Roy’s late.”

”Why are you surprised?”

Jason glared at him.

Both of them heard somebody stand on the other side of the door. Their steps didn’t sound like Roy’s.

Pulling the door open, Jason was ready to snap at whoever had knocked.

“You ordered something and gave my apartment number instead of yours. Again.”

Damian didn’t recognize the voice so he slanted his body to the side to see who it was. He couldn’t stop staring.

”I’ll make it up to you.”

”Jay,” you sighed. “I’ve told you before, you just need to tell me beforehand if you don’t want things to arrive to your apartment. My roommate could have opened it.”

Damian chuckled, a single elbow resting on the table.

Jason craned his neck. “You think this is funny?”

”I think you’re a moron.”

”Shut up and come meet our neighbor.”

Damian didn’t have to be told twice. He stood up with an eagerness he hadn’t felt since Jason texted him to let him know he had found the materials so he could build a suit and go back to patrol.

”This is my brother Damian.” Jason turned around to place the package under the table next to the door.

He knew you’d either seen him before or heard about him the moment his eyes landed on you. People always had a visceral reaction when they met him, some found him attractive, others attempted to ask for favors, and some recoiled in fear.

But you didn’t. You held his gaze and stood in the same spot you had been since you knocked on the door.

And whether it had been in a newspaper or a gossip forum, he was glad you knew something about him. There was something about the way you stared at him that screamed for him to trust you. Wishful thinking, perhaps.

“Nice to meet you,” you politely said, smiling at him.

Stunned by the fact that you hadn’t mocked him, and now assuming it wasn’t wishful thinking after all, he tilted his head. Most people did mock now that he wasn’t under his father’s wing.

Still, he said, “Likewise.”

Your smile became warmer. “I live three doors down the hallway in case you need anything.”

He felt a pang in his chest at the gesture. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

Weird sensations in his chest were normal when he was around you. Befriending you was easier than he’d ever admit and talking to you became the highlight of his day.

The pangs in his chest turned into a fluttering sensation in a heartbeat. You’d make him feel breathless when you did the smallest things — when you smiled at him, when you complained about other neighbors with him, when you asked about his day.

He felt special. For once in his life for being the closest he had ever been to resemble a normal person.

And he also remembered, quite painfully, that night he let you walk away without mustering the courage to tell you —or show you— the way you made him feel.

The deserted hallway was yet another proof of how easy it was to lose track of time around you.

Damian hadn’t expected to get back home past midnight or to skip patrol, but 1:00 AM turned into 2:00 and he couldn’t part from you no matter how many times he tried to remind himself to do it.

He hadn’t even expected to enjoy the state fair as an adult, yet he couldn’t remember a time he had more fun than that evening.

You gazed up at him, waiting for him to either do or say something. Anything other than stare at you in the middle of the hallway.

You had already thanked him for making you company, there was no way you’d say anything. And he froze.

“Good night,” he sputtered.

Your brow twitched. “Night.”

He watched you unlock your door and get inside your apartment with a heavy heart.

You moved out a couple months ago and he hadn’t seen you since then. The texts the two of you exchanged were sporadic and they bordered in formal.

He should have kissed you, he was aware of that. And to make matters worse, Jason chewed him out when he found out.

He still looked for you every morning he left the apartment as though you’d remember you had forgotten something. That you had forgotten him.

Jon said it was for the best, that somebody as sweet as you didn’t deserve to carry with his baggage.

Damian knew his best friend to be right, but how could he let go of you that easily when you made him see he was more than his mistakes and regrets?

He didn’t need anybody to carry him, he could drag himself anywhere if needed.

He simply hated the hole in the pit of his stomach every time he entertained the possibility of having to see you one day with somebody else because he wasn’t brave enough to say what he needed to let out.

The idea of being out of time was killing him slowly, so naturally, he’d sought a quick death.

════════════════════════

You gasped upon opening the door. You weren’t expecting anybody to be outside — much less Damian Wayne.

“Oh!”

“Hi,” he softly greeted.

You blinked rapidly. “Did you need anything?”

“I wanted to... Are you on your way out?”

“I’m just dropping this off for my mom.” You momentarily lifted the bags you were carrying in one hand. “She lives nearby.”

He spared a look to the reusable bags in your grasp. “Is she sick?”

“Pregnant,” you explained, playing with your keys. “It’s high risk due to her age so we take as much care of her as we can.”

Damian walked backward, allowing you to come out of the apartment and lock the door.

As you pushed the door to make sure it was locked, he asked, “Would you care for some company?”

Turning around, you gave him a small smile. “That would be lovely.”

He reached over. “Let me help.”

“They’re not heavy.”

“I insist.”

”Okay.” You handed him the bags and took the initiative to lead the way.

He reached your side immediately.

Not knowing what else to do, aware you’d let something slip if you didn’t find something, you made small talk. “How’s Jason?”

“As annoying as always.”

You still remembered when he meant those words, when he complained about Jason and how often they butted heads. His tone was different now, lighter, almost playful.

“Good to know some things never change.”

You walked the streets with an ease you hadn’t been able to in years. Growing up in that neighborhood meant which streets to avoid, and sadly, most of them were unsafe.

There were many things you could have asked or said, perhaps apologize for being cold while texting.

You were in your right to be cold and you could have just not answered, but you wanted to keep contact even though you were hurt.

Damian was great company. It was a shame you misread the entire situation and couldn’t go back to chat with him like before.

It took you a few attempts to get them to talk comfortably, but once he was able to, he didn’t look back. He even gossiped with you.

Stopping in front of the house, you looked around to make sure your mom had the windows open. Once sure, you walked up the front steps.

You withdrew a single key from your back pocket and extended your other hand so Damian would give you the bags.

The floors were recently mopped which meant your aunt had visited that day.

“It’s me,” you yelled so your mom wouldn’t get up. It was her time to be watching TV in the living room.

Carrying the bags towards the kitchen, you caught the jingle from a commercial.

You filled a glass with water and added a couple of ice cubes.

Your mom was comfortably sat on a recliner, feet up and remote control on her thigh. “Hurry back before it gets dark.”

“Don’t worry, a friend of mine walked me here.” You handed her the glass. “Do you need anything else?”

She ignored your question as she took the glass. “Who is it?”

“You don’t know him.”

“Him?” She lifted an eyebrow.

You hadn’t mentioned a guy to her in almost two years now, her surprise was understandable. “Not now.”

“Oh, so it is like that?”

Maybe it was and maybe that was the issue. She wouldn’t blame you if she knew him like you did, if she heard him laugh or saw him change his demeanor to accommodate to somebody else’s sensibilities.

You didn’t think you’d witness anything remotely close to that when you met him for the first time, but you learned really quickly that Damian was full of surprises.

“I’ll call in the morning in case you need something. I’m working ’til 3:00 PM tomorrow.”

“It’s okay.” She took a sip of water. “Did you bring anything sweet?”

“Homemade muffins and a few chocolate bars. Do you want one now?”

She shook her head. “I’ll wait after dinner.”

You kissed her cheek. “Call me, please.”

“Go, go.” She ushered you to go with a gesture of her hand. “Don’t make your friend wait.”

It was your time to ignore her comment.

Damian was sat on the front steps when you came out, looking up at the darkening sky.

“Is everything alright?” you asked in a whisper as to not scare him.

“No.” He shook his head and stood up. “I mean, yes. How’s your mother?”

“She’s good. Having fun watching reality TV.”

Damian squinted. “Is reality TV really that entertaining?”

“It’s mindless stuff, but it’s fun sometimes. You get to judge other people’s lives without feeling remorse because it’s most likely fake.”

The walk back was way shorter and you didn’t want to part. It was time to swallow your pride and your feelings for him.

He didn’t part ways with you at the building entrance. He walked beside you until you reached the elevator — Damian extended his arm to keep the doors open and allowed you to get in first. He followed suit.

You turned the lights on with Damian on your tail. He did wait for you to invite him in, but you were sure both of you knew there was no way you wouldn’t.

“I made muffins. Do you want one?”

Damian nodded.

You guided him to the dining table where a trippy vase in pastel colors rested with flowers.

He looked around the apartment as he walked towards the table. As he sat down, he fixed his eyes on the vase.

“Green or black?”

“Mmh?”

“Your tea.”

You could swear you saw him smile to himself.

“Black.” He placed his cellphone on the table. “You still have that thing,” he said, referring to the trippy vase.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He huffed a laugh. “Jason said it was ugly.”

“Jason doesn’t have the best taste in the world,” you lightheartedly retorted.

The vase was precious to you, a gift from Damian who spooked you in the middle of a rainy night and made you knock your favorite vase.

You set a plate in front of him and placed the muffin there. “Your tea’s almost ready.”

“No roommate this time?”

“Nope. I miss Lou, but I don’t miss having a roommate that much.”

“I thought the move was temporary just so you could be close to your mother...”

“It is, but there’s still a long way to go. The baby should be here next month and she’ll need help around the house.” You disappeared for a moment as you looked for a mug.

Having found one, you dropped the teabag and poured the boiling water in.

“Sugar.” You put the sugar bowl down just in front of the mug. Feeling his eyes on the side of your face, you gazed at him. “It’s brown, don’t worry.”

He relaxed and uncovered the sugar bowl. “Is the father of your mother’s child around?”

“Yeah.” You sat down on the chair closest to his. “She remarried last year and her husband tries to help, but you know, work gets in the way.”

“Tell me if I can help with anything.”

“Don’t worry, you have enough things to juggle with already.”

“What’s one more? At least let me make you company or walk you home. These streets are dangerous.”

You softly nodded. From the day you met him you knew you would never be able to tell him no — and having his company after a long day sounded nice.

“So...”

“So,” you encouraged him to go on.

“Are you seeing anybody?”

“No. I thought I was a little while ago, but...” You hoped he’d understand what you were getting at. “I guess something got lost in translation.”

“Did it? Or was he too much of a coward to show the way he felt?”

“Don’t.” You hated hearing him talk like that about himself.

“You don’t know how much I regret not kissing you that night. I—“ He sighed, twisting his mouth as he frowned. “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“At least now I know you did think about doing it.”

“I did. Many times throughout the night.” He turned to the side to fully look at you. “I wanted to find the perfect moment and became overwhelmed. Sounds like a bad excuse, but I swear it’s the truth.”

“I believe you.”

Damian scooted closer and reached over to place his hand on your face. Softly, he caressed your cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

You leaned onto his touch, tilting your head. “Me too. Sorry for being such an ass.”

“It’s fine. I would have reacted similarly.”

“Similarly or worse?”

“Worse.”

You laughed, making him smile.

“May I?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Damian leaned in, placing his free hand on the back of your chair as his nose brushed yours.

His lips softly connected with yours, but the slow pace didn’t last. The two of you had wasted too much time, thrown away too many opportunities to be this close —or closer— and patience wasn’t a virtue Damian possessed.

The chair was now balancing itself in two legs, making you interrupt the kiss with a squeal.

Damian then made you stand up and wrapped his arms around your waist. His lips were immediately back on yours.

Your hands went up to rest on his biceps as he kissed you again. His arms tightened around you as he deepened the kiss and you melted.

You melted into the kiss, onto his warmth, due to the fact that he wanted this as much as you did.

Kissing him had become a mere fantasy for you, and there he was, not only making it a reality but exceeding your expectations.

Grabbing him by the neck, you broke the kiss in search of air. His breath was barely ragged and you remembered he told you he could hold it in for a long time.

You needed him to teach you just to be able to kiss him for longer.

“That was nice,” you said, still breathless.

“Yeah, really nice. We should do it more often.”

“Are you asking me out?”

“I’m telling you I want you to be mine.”

All in or nothing, of course. Jason had warned you that Damian didn’t take things lightly.

But you were okay with that.

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x plus size reader #damian wayne

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cheri-translates · 3 years

Text

[CN] Shaw’s MQ: Hot Summer Syndrome (Part One)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a Mind’s Quest, 热夏症候群, which has not been released in EN! 🍒

[ This was released on 16 August 2021 ]

[ Chapter 1]

MC: Do you have anything you wish to say to the fans who support you guys?

Xie Chi: I hope they won’t be taken in by passing fads and that they’d stay authentic. This has always been the goal of our band, Thicksalt.

The youth is sitting upright on the sofa opposite me, revealing a hearty smile.

“Thicksalt” differs from many rock bands. It’s a band which made its debut during a talent competition variety show, and are supported by an incredibly experienced operations team.

The songs they produce appeal to the masses, and are often used as background music for all sorts of video clips and vlogs. Ever since they debuted four years ago, they have amassed a huge fanbase.

They’re about to release a new mini album, and our company is creating a promotional interview for them.

Without realising it, the morning shoot for the advertisement comes to an end. Packing my documents, I once again express gratitude to the leader, as well as bassist, of the band - Xie Chi.

MC: I’m genuinely happy that you accepted this interview, Mr Xie Chi.

Xie Chi: How did it go, Great Producer MC? Are there any issues in my answers today?

MC: I think they are really good. They are very sincere and very interesting! Before this, I even thought you’d be like those arrogant and unruly rock musicians. I didn’t expect you to be so amiable and easygoing.

Xie Chi: I might just be a different breed. Somebody once said that people like me aren’t suitable for rock. I’m doing just fine right now, aren’t I?

MC: Haha, Mr Xie is too modest...

Xie Chi and I exchange pleasantries, but that bluish purple figure beneath the lights of Live House subconsciously flash past my mind.

If I were to interview that rascal, he definitely wouldn’t be this honest, would he...

Xie Chi: Miss MC?

MC: Hm? What is it?

Xie Chi: Your phone.

Lowering my head, I realise that my phone, which is squished under documents, is currently vibrating. I pick it up quickly.

Shaw: Tsk. Why didn’t you pick up after such a long time?

MC: I had to do filming in the morning and put my phone on vibrate mode, so I didn’t notice...

Shaw: Okay then. Done with work?

MC: Mm, the shoot just ended! Are you done with classes? In that case, are we going for a meal or meeting straight at Live House?

Shaw: Which floor is the film studio on?

MC: The third floor... wait, what are you planning to do?

Shaw: Waiting downstairs is boring. I’m coming up to look for you.

With this, Shaw hangs up without waiting for my response.

Why did he come over without telling me beforehand? I’m in a slight daze while holding onto my phone. At this moment, a soft chuckle suddenly drifts from beside me.

Xie Chi: Seeing the sweet smile on Miss MC’s face - was that a call from your boyfriend? I heard that you’re both meeting at Live House? Does he do music too?

Before I can think about how to respond to Xie Chi’s question, his line of sight shifts to something behind me, and his expression freezes.

Xie Chi: Shaw...?

Following his line of sight, I turn around. The person who enters my vision is Shaw’s tall and slender figure as he stands at the door.

This is the first time I’m seeing such an expression on Shaw’s face.

His eyebrows are tightly knit. The corners of his lips, which were initially lifted upwards, have pursed at a sharp angle. And those eyes, which are always filled with a teasing glint and fearlessness, are now filled with...

Hostility.

Xie Chi clearly notices Shaw’s cold and detached expression, but he has a warm grin on his face.

Xie Chi: Shaw, long time no see. Are you still in Isolated? Are Adam and the others still there?

Shaw doesn’t respond to the other party at all. He walks straight over to face me, using half of his body to block Xie Chi.

Shaw: I’m hungry. How much longer do you need to pack up?

MC: I’m actually done. I just need to confirm a few scenes with the artiste’s agent and...

Xie Chi: There’s no need to trouble the agent for that. Miss MC, just decide on the location and me and my brothers will head there directly.

Since the other party has put it this way, I have nothing more to say.

MC: Okay then. The location will be at Lake Heart Park. We’ll clear the venue and set up security measures an hour in advance. You guys can head to the venue for makeup before noon.

Xie Chi: Before noon... I’m afraid that might be a little difficult for night owls like us. Right, Shaw? Oh yes, you’re slightly different. Since you’re a student with morning classes, you can definitely get up.

Shaw: ...

Shaw turns a deaf ear to Xie Chi’s peculiarities. His line of sight has been averted to the side, but I can clearly feel iciness emanating from his body.

Sensing the atmosphere growing increasingly odd, I quickly put an end to the conversation.

MC: Cough. Shooting in the afternoon results in the best effects, so we still hope that the band can arrive punctually. Is that okay?

Xie Chi: Of course.

MC: Thanks. See you guys tomorrow then.

With this, Xie Chi gives me a friendly smile. After sweeping a meaningful glance at Shaw, he turns around and calls his group to leave.

Seizing this opportunity, I tug on the corner of Shaw’s sleeve quietly.

MC: What’s up? How does Xie Chi know you?

Shaw: Adam said that he found an old album today and was incredibly happy. He invited all of us to hotpot. They’re all in the queue. If we leave now, the timing will be just right.

He takes two steps forward. When he turns his head to look at me, a smile no different from the usual surfaces on his lips.

Shaw: Let’s go, Great Producer. Or do you want me to haul you downstairs by the neck?

MC: ...

The more he smiles this way, and the more he pretends that everything’s normal, the more uncomfortable I feel.

Biting my lower lip, I follow after Shaw with heavy steps.

Even if he doesn’t say anything, I can ask other sources!

Adam: You’re saying that Shaw met Xie Chi?!

The hotpot shop seethes with activity. While Shaw answers a phone call, I seize this opportunity to relate what happened earlier in the film studio to the other band members.

The moment I mention that Shaw and Xie Chi met, the members of Isolated gasp in unison.

MC: Do the both of them have a grudge from the past or something?

Adam scratches his head, as though not knowing where to begin.

Adam: Actually, it isn’t just a personal grudge between them. Sigh, how should I put it...

Jensen: What’s so difficult? Someone simply wanted money and not his pride.

After Jensen says this, Randal, the guitarist, agrees from beside him.

Randal: Basically, Shaw was already being polite. If I were to meet that rascal, I’d definitely strike his ears with both fists, attack him with claws, and do the “Angry Crow Takes Flight” martial arts move...

Fitch: Me too.

Even the habitually silent drummer speaks up.

Seeing that Isolated shares such a bitter hatred for their common enemy Xie Chi, I feel even more puzzled.

Could it be that in the past, Xie Chi had duped their band of money and fled?

Just as I’m about to continue probing, Shaw finishes his call, returning with an unhappy expression. Seeing this, Adam lowers his volume and speaks to me.

Adam: If you really want to know, I’ll send you a clip later on. I’ll just remind you that Xie Chi isn’t the same breed as us. So let this go after watching it. And never mention it to Shaw again.

Exclusive radio: here

[ Chapter 2 ]

Jensen: Once again, let us welcome our keyboardist Adam, drummer Fitch, guitarist Randal, and bassist Cash with your screams once again-

Audience: AHHHHH-

I’m hiding on a sofa in Live House’s lounge, watching the video clip Adam sent.

The video clip is a little dated. The unclear quality renders everyone’s faces hazy in the riot of lights.

The Live House in the clip is cramped, and can probably accommodate only a few hundred people. The camera lens passes by the audience, and members from Isolated are at the front.

And the bassist with the name Cash is... Xie Chi.

Xie Chi used to be a member of Isolated?

While I’m still feeling confused, I watch as Jensen continues pointing backstage.

Jensen: Additionally, we have a special assistant performer for our live encore - Shaw!

After saying this, I spot a youth lifting up the curtain, then whooshing to the front of the stage with a leap.

MC: Shaw...?!

Jensen: Shaw’s an unrecognised and wandering talent we discovered. With him joining us, I think the middle-aged Old Xie should feel a sense of crisis!

Xie Chi: Go to hell. I’m only in my early 20s!

Both the people on stage and off stage laugh. The only person who doesn’t laugh is Shaw.

As a youth, Shaw’s already more or less the same height as adults. He’s in a simple vest, the pitch dark fabric binding his lean, tough, and gradually maturing body.

He’s akin to a sharp-edged spear which has been plunged onto the stage.

He doesn’t greet the audience, his expression stiff. Even the spotlights can’t seem to melt the sense of alienation in his eyes.

Only when he strums the bass can one hear the scorching and fiercely burning sounds from his fingertips.

It’s pretty novel to have two bassists on stage. By the time one song is over, the interior of the cramped Live House is already boiling over from excitement.

Amid the cheers, Shaw seems to be slightly impatient. However, before he can stride off to the side, his band mates drag him over to the front of the stage.

Xie Chi puts a hand on his shoulder and says something into his ear, causing Shaw to be taken aback momentarily.

Although the image is blurry, I can clearly see a grin surfacing on his lips.

The video clip ends at this point.

I grip the phone, feeling slightly confused.

Before doing the interview, I clearly recall that Xie Chi has an incredibly prestigious background. To outsiders, he has always claimed that Thicksalt is his first band.

Why does he treat Isolated as a “dark past”?

After surfing through a few websites, I finally find a tiny hint.

In an abandoned discussion thread related to rock music, someone had made a post four years ago.

“Does anyone know why Isolated’s bassist Cash left before the Collecting Dreams Music Festival?”

Sieving through the comments, I can only see a few comments along the lines of “What band is this?”, “He’s just a bassist who warms up the stage”, or “I’ll be waiting for an answer here”.

Reaching the end, I finally see the final comment on the post.

MC: “...different virtues and different plans.” The person who posted this is “JensensThroatIsATreasure”? ...Jensen? Did they get into a conflict around this time? I remember that the Collecting Dreams Music Festival is held in February every year. That’s half a month before Xie Chi made his debut in the variety show...

Just as I plan to search for more clues, an icy object is pressed against my left cheek. At the same time, bundles of warm air land on my right ear.

Shaw: [whispers] What are you looking at while hiding over here?

MC: ...!!

The cold sensation on my left and the warm sensation on my right causes me to tremble, and I almost shoot up from the sofa.

The moment I turn my head, I can see Shaw’s triumphant expression.

MC: Shaw, you scared me again!

Shaw: You’re scared just like that? It shows that you lack guts.

He places a can of iced cola into my hand, then falls backwards onto the sofa.

A pair of long legs rest on the back of the chair, shaking back and forth, and he appears to be in a good mood.

Swallowing half a yawn, he glances at the phone in my hand. It’s clear that he has already seen the contents on my screen.

Shaw: If you wanted to know about what happened four years ago, you could have just asked me directly.

MC: But didn’t you have an icy and unwilling expression earlier?

Shaw: I’m willing now.

MC: ...

Shaw: So are you asking or not? There won’t be a next time.

After giving Shaw a glare, I dawdle for a moment before turning my body, lowering my head while looking at him.

MC: Was it because Xie Chi left the band before the music festival?

Shaw: Yes. He said that nobody listens to Isolated’s music. Even if he were to go for the music festival, nobody would applaud, so he didn’t want to continue staying on.

MC: Why was he so unreasonable... Did the both of you get into a fight?

Shaw: Are we that lacking in character? Oh right, Randal wanted to beat him up, but we stopped him. He’s the exception. In short, it wasn’t anything serious. It’s just that the argument turned ugly, which is why I can’t be bothered to say anything more to such people.

Shaw relates this casually, but I can detect the offence he took back then from his tone.

I can’t help but reach out to poke his cheek.

MC: Come to think of it, there used to be two bassists in your band?

Shaw: How’d you know? Did that chatterbox Adam send you a clip of our past performance?

MC: Mm.

Shaw: Mm... it was only for a short while. After he left, I’ve been the only one.

While speaking, Shaw grabs my hand, interlacing and toying with the spaces between my fingers.

After a while, he suddenly pinches my thumb.

Shaw: Who plays better?

MC: What?

Shaw: The two bassists. Who’s better?

This question comes out of nowhere. I do my best to recall the video clip, and respond honestly.

MC: I can’t tell. The bass is naturally soft, and the quality of the clip is too low.

Shaw: ...you’re truly a block of wood. You can’t be saved.

Shaw glances at me from the side unhappily, then flips over and sits up on the sofa.

Shaw: I’ll give you one more chance to decide. Their band will be engaging in a battle with us next Friday. Remember to come.

MC: Huh, what?!

[ Chapter 2: Extra ]

Due to the sudden battle with Thicksalt, Shaw’s band is busy preparing for it this week.

During my work intervals, I’d drop by to listen to their rehearsals.

Adam: Sigh. Despite what we said, they do this full-time. We do it more for fun, and the odds of success don’t look okay...

Jensen: Enough with the discouraging words.

Adam: Got it, got it.

Shaw: Randal, try using another pickup?

Randal: Will that make the guitar sound a little muffled?

Shaw: Give it a try first. If it doesn’t work, we’ll try something else.

Looking at how seriously absorbed Shaw and the others are in production, I don’t wish to disturb them. Amid the chaotic yet catchy music, I open my laptop and do my own work quietly.

By the time I finish a document, Shaw and the others happen to be taking an interim break.

Shaw sits down next to me, opening a can of cola.

Shaw: Why are you working overtime again?

MC: Work never ends... what about your side? Is there anything I can help with?

Shaw: As a jack of all trades but a master of none, haven’t you helped enough during the previous music festival?

Although he did save the show back then, being teased by him makes me feel a little indignant. Before I can retort, Adam chimes in on my behalf.

Adam: You can’t say that. If it weren’t for MC being a last minute stand-in, the music festival might have been bland. MC, don’t mind Shaw’s current behaviour. He’s watched that recording of the both of you performing together a hundred times!

Shaw: One more line of nonsense and you can forget about your precious keyboard.

Adam grins, then hides off to another corner.

MC: Really? You really watched it a hundred times?

Shaw: You believe what he said? You’re too gullible.

Shaw bursts into a laugh. Sweeping an unintentional glance at my laptop, he speaks after a moment.

Shaw: Are you... done with that show?

MC: Which show?

Shaw: Xie Chi’s.

Shaw speaks rapidly and muddily. I almost can’t catch what he’s asking about.

MC: You’re referring to the interview with Thicksalt? It was over last week, and I’m about to submit the final draft for publication.

Shaw: Oh.

Shaw rarely asks about my work. I blink, and a vague guess comes to mind.

MC: Do you want to see the draft I prepared for Xie Chi’s interview?

Shaw: No.

He answers as quickly as before.

I feel slightly tickled by this, but keep my expression levelled as I lean a little closer to him.

MC: I’m being serious. This was the first time I interviewed a rock band. Could you help me check if I used any professional terms wrongly? Come on come on~

While saying this, I’ve already opened the document, handing it to Shaw eagerly.

Shaw purses his lips. Despite how reluctant he looks, he takes the laptop.

Shaw: Tsk... so troublesome. This counts as proofreading a thesis. Remember to pay me.

[ Chapter 3 ]

This battle is part of a personal grudge, and it was arranged very abruptly. Originally thinking that there wouldn’t be many people here to listen, I’m given a fright even before reaching the entrance.

I watch as a long queue of fans line up at the entrance, almost stretching to the road junction.

Although they aren’t waving lighted signboards or light sticks as fans often do with other celebrities, everyone is wearing merchandise related to “Thicksalt”.

Taking in a deep breath, I move around the crowd carefully, hiding in the lounge backstage.

MC: Huff... why are there so many fans of Thicksalt outside?

Adam: Tsk. They’re a popular idol band. The tickets were swept clean by some ticket scalpers.

Jensen: I heard that today’s entrance tickets are ten times higher than usual.

Randal: It must be really nice to have money...

Fitch: Really nice.

Shaw: A few hundreds of fans are enough to frighten you guys like this? Did you forget how that music festival went?

Adam: Mm... that’s true.

Hearing the band members bring up something from the past, I stick my head out curiously.

MC: “That music festival” - which music festival are you referring to?

Shaw: The music festival we participated in after Xie Chi left the band.

Hearing the name of today’s opponent, I subconsciously glance at him. Seeing that he’s pretty indifferent, I continue probing.

MC: What happened back then?

Shaw: Tsk. Let Adam tell you. He’s happiest to reminisce about this part with others.

Adam: Right right right, I’ll do it! I’ll tell you along with a video clip!

Adam immediately locates a video clip excitedly, then hands it to me.

Adam: Here, look. Back then, we were nobodies who simply warmed up the stage. Before we could even perform a few lines on stage, there was a shower of rain, and the audience left to find shelter.

In the video clip, the downpour is torrential. The audience seats are empty, and Jensen’s voice drifts intermittently from the sound system, sounding dismal and disastrous.

During their first performance at a music festival, Isolated was in such a sorry state.

Adam: Afterwards, yes, this part... Just as everyone was losing heart and leaving the stage, there was a sudden clap of thunder.

A rumble of thunder drifts from the phone, along with the sound of a bass.

I watch as Shaw steps out.

In the heavy downpour where there are no audience members to cheer for the band, the youth stands towering like a giant at the front of the stage. The collision of the thunder and the bass steals my breath away.

Closely after, the guitarist and keyboardist join in, continuing the interrupted performance.

The originally discordant rumbles of muffled thunder morph into the finishing touch, bringing the performance to life. Every sound perfectly tallies with the wilful, brash melody.

The cheers of audience drift from the videoclip. All around, there are people who brave the wind, running towards the stage.

MC: How incredible...

Jensen: Of course it’s incredible. It’s basically a miracle!

Jensen cuts in to add. Clearly, this is an unforgettable memory of every member in Isolation.

Jensen: I managed to showcase death growling. Along with that flash of lightning at the end...

Fitch, who is sitting in front of the drums, taps on the bass drum.

Fitch: A turnaround.

A performance where they shouted themselves hoarse. A performance where they did all they could. A perfect turnaround.

Adam: Tsk, that growling of yours was terrible. It was the only flaw in that performance!

Jensen: Nonsense. It was only when I started howling that the audience braved the rain and rushed back!

Randal: Call a spade a spade. They screamed because of my guitar solo, thank you.

Everyone laughs and jokes around, but the lingering charm of the bass and the story continues echoing in my ears.

With my heart palpitating slightly, I turn my head to Shaw.

MC: Shaw, was the thunder...

Shaw: What are you thinking? It was just a coincidence.

MC: Really? Was it really just a coincidence?

My questions cause Shaw to click his tongue a little unnaturally. He grabs me by the shoulder, then pushes me towards the door.

Shaw: Fine, you’re the most gossipy person in the entire world.

MC: I’m obviously concerned about you...

Shaw: If you’re really concerned about me, why don’t you buy me two cans of drinks right now? Remember to get sugar-free ones.

MC: Hey... so was it a coincidence or not?

Shaw: I won’t tell you.

Before I can react, Shaw has already pushed me outside.

With a “hmph”, I pull a face towards the entrance indignantly, then head over to the vending machine along the corridor.

Just as I retrieve two cans of sugar-free drinks, a voice suddenly drifts from behind.

Xie Chi: Producer MC?

Turning around, I realise that all the members of Thicksalt are here.

After hearing about what happened in the past, there’s a slight discomfort in my heart when I see Xie Chi. Even so, I maintain due politeness and nod.

MC: You’re all here too?

Xie Chi: Haha, if we didn’t rush over, we’d get stuck outside because of the fans. Is Producer MC here to cheer for Isolated?

MC: Of course. To be precise, I’m here to cheer for Shaw.

I flash the cola in my hands to Xie Chi.

MC: Also, people do listen to Isolated’s music, and people will applaud for them. That’s all, I’m heading back now~

After a few performances by underground bands, the highlight of the evening finally arrives.

The first to go on stage is Thicksalt. They have no need for further introductions. The cheers from fans are almost enough to overturn the ceiling of Live House.

Thicksalt’s song has a powerful rhythm, and the melody is incredibly memorable. When the lead singer sings the first line, people are already following along.

The smooth performance is modest, and everything is meant for the public to listen to it again.

I recall the assessment I had given to Thicksalt during the interview -

This is a band which is “just right”.

By the time the song is over, everyone’s emotions have been ignited, and the sound of cheering is incessant.

I feel a little nervous, not knowing what kind of song Shaw and the others will perform. At this moment -

The sound of a squeaking erhu drifts from backstage.

Shaw: Hey hey hey, can all of you hear this?

Audience: What’s going on...

Members of the crowd look at each other. Even Xie Chi’s band members reveal expressions of surprise.

Shaw and Randal are carrying an erhu each, playing it while stepping onto the stage.

In an instant, Shaw spots me below the stage. He gives me a wink, then snaps his fingers at Randal.

The strings create high and low notes, echoing each other. The two of them play all sorts of tricks using the erhu.

When the last note flings into the air, Fitch’s drum sticks crash down powerfully! A shapeless firework suddenly erupts in the air!

At the same time, Shaw and Randal toss their erhus aside, grabbing the bass and guitar respectively!

MC: Isolated! Isolated!

My uninhibited and loud cheering is infectious, and it causes everyone in the audience to follow suit, waving their arms.

Audience: Isolated! Isolated! Isolated!

This is the brash and wilful Isolated belonging to Shaw!

Every melodious stand-off is akin to two experts clashing with their differing opinions, their swords and talents crisscrossing.

The audience have not yet enjoyed themselves to the fullest. Following their fervent requests, both bands begin their solos.

When both bassists appear on stage, Adam steps away from the keyboard, unfolding his hands towards Xie Chi.

Adam: No way. I can be the accompaniment for other battles, but I can’t remain calm while doing it for you.

Xie Chi: That’s okay. I don’t mind having another accompaniment. For the sake of fairness, let’s pick a middleman.

Shaw: Sure.

Shaw turns his head towards the audience, his line of sight landing fixedly on my face.

Shaw: MC then.

🔥 Part two: here

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc shaw

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anabsolutetrainwreck · 3 years

Text

i get so lost inside your eyes || h. styles

warnings: mentions of a break up, swearing, kissing, mentions of alcohol

word count: 1.5k

summary: you and harry are alone on valentine’s day, so decide to spend it together...

“I brought wine!” Harry smiled, showing you the bottle he’d bought on the way to your home.

“My hero,” you joked, opening your front door wider to let Harry in.

“And I got you flowers,” he shrugged, his cheeks coated in a light tinge of red.

You smiled, “Why did you do that?”

“Just felt like it. You deserve them anyway,” he sighed, passing them to you.

“Well, thank you, Harry,” you grinned.

You took the wine and flowers from him, taking them through to the kitchen. He shrugged his coat off and head through to the living room. It was dark outside, the sun having set two or three hours prior to Harry’s arrival.

You’d know Harry for a long time. Nearly seven years. And you’d been good friends for that time, enjoying one another’s company perhaps too much. He’d been there for you when it felt like nobody else was. Harry had seen some of your ugliest moments and his adoration for you had never faltered.

Due to you both being single, you’d made the mutual decision to spend Valentine’s Day together. Spending the evening together, binging cheesy romcoms and crying over fictional characters’ love lives, sounded like the perfect way to spend Valentine’s Day to you. And evidently to Harry too, for he was, sat on your couch, flicking through Netflix.

You placed the two wine glasses down on your coffee table, pouring the bottle out between them. You sat in silence as the title sequence of Harry’s selected movie rolled, taking occasional sips of the wine. “How’s Valentine’s Day being single then?” he asked suddenly. “You know, since you and Peter broke up.”

“Thanks for reminding me of that,” you joked. “Just what I wanted to hear today.”

His eyes widening, realising how rude his question was, “Oh, Y/N, I’m-“

You chuckled, “Harry, it’s fine. I was kidding.”

“Oh, right,” he laughed. “Obviously. Are you looking for anyone right now?”

Your throat suddenly became very dry. You were in the midst of trying to suppress your feelings for Harry before looking for anything serious with somebody else. After you and Peter had broken up, you had assigned yourself a ‘no guys’ rule, in which you’d stay away from dating altogether for at least six months.

But then you began to see Harry under a different lens. You’d always found him attractive and you were never to deny the fact that Harry was good-looking, even before you first met him. But you’d never seen him under a romantic light. And then you began to, and it made hanging out with him feel completely different. You were hyper-aware of everything he did and you picked up on the small things he did. It became exhausting.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you forced a shrug, “Not really. No point forcing something with somebody when I’m not in any rush to be in a relationship.”

“Oh… fair enough,” he nodded, his eyebrows knitted together slightly. “Yeah, why force it?”

He prayed you hadn’t picked up on his slight shift in mood. The awkwardness and the slightly disheartened tone. But you had. You weren’t going to mention it though; it would be mean to put him on the spot like that. So, instead, the two of you stayed silent as you watched the movie.

About an hour and a half later, the credits rolled. You yawned, stretching your legs slightly, they were dead from the position you’d had them in for the duration of the movie. “I’ve got ice cream, come and tell me about yourself,” you said, getting up to fetch the tub of vanilla ice cream from the freezer.

He followed, beginning to talk about how the band were and how writing was going. You nodded along, genuinely interested in how his music career was going, as you fished out some spoons. The pair of you sat down at the kitchen island, sharing the tub of ice cream as he told you about the many love songs he was writing. He’d tell you about a date he went on, which inspired this song, and a crush he had, which inspired that song. And, though hard for you to listen to, you still nodded along eagerly, wishing he wouldn’t notice the frown that was playing on your lips. “How’s Gemma?” you asked, hoping you didn’t seem desperate to change the topic of conversation.

He shrugged, “She’s good. She was actually asking how you were today, I was on the phone with her.”

“Oh,” you smiled. You adored Gemma. “That’s kind of her. Tell her that her podcast has been keeping me sane.”

“She’ll be glad to hear that,” he chuckled. “Have you still got that piano?”

It was a random question and it took you by surprise slightly. It was so off-topic. You nodded. He smiled, “Can I teach you one of my songs?”

You grinned, “If you’d like.”

Playing the piano was something your parents had forced you to do when you were a child. And, it wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy it, you certainly did now that you were an adult, but it was never something you were necessarily passionate about. Not like Harry was about music anyway. It was more of a hobby for whenever you could make time to play now.

You followed him through to the dining room, deciding the empty tub of ice cream could wait until later to clear away. He sat himself down on the stool, patting the space beside him. “Come on, Y/N,” he laughed at your hesitancy.

Sitting down beside him, you felt your cheeks suddenly heat up. Your thigh was pressed against his, your arms grazing slightly. And you realised, as he was playing one of his songs, his eyes flicking between the keys and you, how intimate this really was. You felt like you were in school again, getting incredibly too nervous whenever you were partnered up with whoever you were crushing in at the time. “See, it’s just like this,” he said, playing it slower.

You nodded, “Kudos to Charlotte for remembering all of this.”

“I remember it too!” he said, acting as if the compliment you’d just offered Charlotte was the most offensive thing anybody had ever said to him.

You stifled a laugh, “Yeah, but you don’t play it in front of thousands of people. God, you’re such a drama queen.”

He shrugged, “What can I say? That’s showbiz, baby.”

You felt ready to pass out. He’d just called you ‘baby’, and though you knew it was part of the saying, it still felt weird to have him direct the name at you. You laughed anyway, trying to act as normal as possible. “If you say so,” you smiled.

“Right, now you try,” he said, taking your hand and placing it on the keys.

“Harry, it’ll sound terrible,” you sighed.

“Just give it a go,” he smiled supportively at you, staring into your eyes. “You’re great at everything anyway.”

You scoffed, “Well, that’s just a blatant lie. Play it again. I’ve only seen you do it once.”

He nodded, repeating what he’d played before. You took note of the notes, lodging them into your brain somewhere. Besides, it was only the intro of the song. And so, you gave it a shot and it sounded somewhat decent. That was until you noticed Harry staring at you out of the corner of your eye. This completely ruined your concentration and you managed to absolutely butcher the beforehand beautiful tune. “Shit, sorry,” you said quickly.

“Don’t apologise, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” he said softly. “It was great for a first attempt.”

You turned to look at him, only then noticing how dangerously close your faces were. It was a tight squeeze on the piano stool as it was, but now it was forcing your faces inches apart. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

You expected him to suddenly recoil, realising what he’d just said and apologise. But he didn’t. He sat silently as if waiting for you to say something back. “Can I kiss you?” he asked before you had the chance to return the compliment or thank him for it.

You nodded, “Please.”

And he did. And it was wonderful. Better than anything you’d dreamt up inside your head. His hand on your cheek, the other on your thigh, you felt safe with Harry. This kiss with Harry felt more natural than anything else you’d shared with previous partners. As he pulled away, he grinned, eyes fluttering up and down your face. “Sorry,” he said quietly as if he was second-guessing the perfect moment of intimacy you’d just shared.

“Don’t apologise, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” you repeated his earlier words, earning yourself a grin from Harry and another peck on the lips.

He smirked slightly, “Do you want to maybe end Valentine’s Day with a boyfriend?”

“Is that an offer, Harry?” you grinned.

“Perhaps it is, yes.”

“Then I might just take you up on it.”

#harry fanfic #harry fanfiction #harry imagine #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry x you #harry x reader #harry x y/n #harry styles imagines #harry imagines

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scribblingfangirl · 3 years

Text

WITH LOVE, THE GHOSTS | Julie and The Phantoms - Part Two

not my gif!

.•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•.

Author’s Note: Somebody on Wattpad asked if they could get ‘a part two where she like meets them and they still do kind stuff?’ I really liked that idea, so this little part is a filler (their meeting) so that I can fullfill the request in a third and final part. Enjoy! :D

word count: ~ 1.4k

summary: You finally meet the boys. Obviously, chaos ensues.

warnings: // (english is not my first language, not beta-read)

| Part One | Part Three |

.•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You knew that Julie wouldn’t judge you, not after the year she had. But honestly, after hearing that Flynn was almost going to egg her house after finding out about the Swedish hologram boys you were very inclined to just shake your head and forget about it all. Even if the note from Reggie, Alex and Thing Three had been burning a hole into your pocket.

Needless to say that it had been a very weird winter break. But you were still kind of disappointed when nothing happened on New Year.

Nevertheless, you closed your locker and turned around to look at Julie and Flynn while they approached you. “Does a flying pen called Reggie and a computer that suddenly decides to cheer me up called Alex and a third something, temporarily called Chicken Scratch, do as well?” you asked and took the note out of your pocket, hoping it would come out as comedically rather than insane.

At first, nothing happened and Julie and Flynn just stared at you. Then Julie ripped the little paper out of your hand and quickly unfolded it.

Almost afraid you smiled at them nervously when they looked back up at you, expecting everything and yet nothing at the same time. Which is why you weren’t quite sure what to make from Julie and Flynn’s reaction. Sighing they both looked at each other and whisper-shouted: “Reggie!”

“Reggie… as in the pen? You’re calling my pen?” Bewildered, you looked at your two best friends. Okay so maybe they did think you’ve lost it. ‘Retreat, retreat! Make a final joke about it and let it slide!’ “ I think you kind of forgot the magic word ‘Accio’ beforehand. Accio Reggie, you know? And don’t forget to swish and flick it guys or else it might blow up in your face,” you giggled nervously. ‘Nope, that wasn’t it.’

But instead of going into it, Julie suddenly seemed busy staring angrily at a locker just to their right and making weird eyebrow movements towards it, while Flynn just swung an arm around your shoulder and pulled you with her.

“I think it’s time that we, or rather Julie, told you something. But, first things first, you know that egging your best friends house isn’t the solution, right?”

Correction: They lost it. Not you, they! Ghosts. Forking 90s ghosts they said.

Because apparently Reggie, Alex and Luke (not Who or Thing Three - just a ghost with a very terrible handwriting, Flynn couldn’t stop giggling and said something about the Fat Ones?) were exactly that - forking 90s ghosts. You almost snorted into your cereal and inhaled the milk when Julie told you that after arriving home from school.

“Sure. Ghosts are wishing me a Merry Christmas. What’s next? Did I miss Michael Jackson wishing me a Happy New Year and will Elvis Presley be serenading me on Valentine’s Day?”

“Wait... Michael Jackson died?! When? Ah damn... I barely had time to listen to his 9nth album before we died!”

“Dude... First Star Wars, now this? What exactly are you doing when we aren’t rehearsing?”

“Not screaming in a museum, but I did say dibs on the shower… the rubber duckies are just too cute to ignore!”

“You use them in a bath Reggie, not the shower!”

Obviously, you couldn’t hear them but you did see the eye-roll Julie gave the thin air before turning back to you. “Sorry to disappoint but no. Michael and Elvis are dead.”

Silence fell upon you three six.

Ending the silence by eating your (crunchy) cereal, you swallowed and said, “Yeah fun fact, the adjective dead literally appears in the definition of ghosts. That’s kind of what makes them ghosts. Being dead. So… what makes your buddies so special?”

Silence. Again. (Well, for you. Julie was listening to two ghosts chasing each other around the kitchen ‘STOP IT REGINALD!’ while the third one was sitting by your side, face in his hands, eyeing your cereal wistfully and sighing.)

Taking a deep breath Julie pushed her hands away from her body. “We don’t know. But we would like to show you. So... Boys, Garage. Now! Girls, Garage. Please,” she said, waving her hand to the backdoor.

Opening the garage door a few moments later and gesturing at the couch and chairs Julie said, “Please sit down. The band will be with us shortly.”

“Uh!”, you said excited, clapping your hands. Might as well go along with it. Worst case scenario? All three of you will go visit Dr. Turner. Best case scenario? Well… best case scenario the boys ghosts are real and you will be sleeping with one eye open from now on. But honestly, how bad can that be? They have a good taste in Christmas music after all. “What are we going to hear? Panic! At the Disco? Taylor Swift?”

“No no no. They only do originals. Now come on, Mama needs her eye candy. Oh, and watch it. Reggie needs space to rock out,” Flynn told you as she guided you to the couch.

“Look at that! She listens and learns!” Julie giggled and sat behind the keyboard. “Let’s do it the old fashioned way. Y/N, this is Flying Solo.”

Well, they were real. Or as real as ghosts can be.

“Yeah… quick question. Why am I always the one who gets probed?” the dark-haired bassist asked after your hand passed through his shoulder.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I should have asked first.”

“Ah don’t worry. It was nice actually. Now I know that you have a kind heart.”

The shaggy-haired guitarist snorted, accidentally strumming his guitar a little too hard. “And an endless black pit as a stomach.”

“And you know that why?” Julie asked with her hands crossed in front of her chest.

“He watches her eat the sandwiches he makes for her. He finds it cute when she giggles at the Nutella faces he paints onto them," the bassist answered for the guitarist.

“You make her sandwiches… with Nutella faces?! Why don’t I get those?!” "You watch me while I eat?!" Julie and you screamed out at the same time.

“Chill out you both! You," Flynn said pointing at you, "get free food! But watch it, they did die by eating poisoned hot dogs, so don't trust them entirely. And you!" She moved over to Julie, "You get eye candy 24/7! I should be the one to complain! I don’t get anything and I am your manager!”

Blushing the brown-haired boy averted his eyes and muttered, “I don’t remember agreeing to that." (Because of course that would be the point he would focus on.) "You booked us a school dance after all!” Feeling and then seeing their indignant looks he quickly retreated. “Which we are still very, very sorry for missing out on! A… and and the band name you came up with is really great Flynn!”

Throwing her hair back and squinting her eyes, Flynn gave him a joking glare. “You pass. Barely. I’m still watching you.”

“Okaaaay so, judging by your looks and your attitude I’d say… you're Chicken Scratch, right?”

“HEY!” And then more quietly, “My name’s Luke.”

You nodded. “You deserve it. So, Luke, I guess it's nice to meet you.”

“So today is ‘Make fun of Luke’-day?”

“Oh… that’s only today? Sorry, I must’ve missed that memo. I thought that was every day.”

You giggled and turned to the drummer who had just spoken. “Alex, right?”

The blond guy nodded smirking while continuing to quietly drum.

“Then you must be Reggie!” you smiled at the bassist again. “I heard Kayla talk about you to Carrie on a few occasions.”

As he dropped his bass the last thing you saw or heard from Reggie was an excited, “Girls talk about me? Take that Alex!” Then he puffed out of existence.

“Reggie, you do realize that my ‘they can’t tip what they can’t see’ statement still applies here, right?” Alex said sighing and mouthed, “I’m sorry” in your direction, before flinching and puffing out of existence as well.

“They don’t have to tip me, Alex, they just have to like me!” Luke imitated Reggie sarcastically, shaking his head and raising his eyebrows while eyeing the thin air.

“Wow! Watch it!”

But Julie’s warning came too late. With a ‘whooosh’ and followed by a dull pain one of Alex’s drumsticks flew through the air and hit your head. “Ow!”

“Oi boys! Stop it!” And with that Luke vanished as well.

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animeyanderelover · 3 years

Note

thank you for doing my minato request! that was a great story. if you don't mind, can i request prompt 41 for minato? thank you 😊

I don’t mind at all honey.

Warnings: Yandere themes, bribing, blackmailing, pregnancy

Prompt 41: “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll look cute with a swollen stomach carrying our child.”

“(y/n)! Open the door! We can talk about it like we always did in the past!” You didn’t want to. How could he even compare those situations from before with this one?! “(y/n), sweetheart! Let me in!”, you heard your husband pleading through the door. You couldn’t! How could you after finding out what he had did all those years secretly behind your back? He was the goddamn Hokage! He was supposed to protect the villagers, but instead he had bribed those people and had let them become ruined. Sure, they did hurt you a lot in the past, but still! How could he have done this and keeping it a secrete from you?! And that right now where you had just been about to tell him the exciting news one of the nurses had told you today. Upon hearing them you had instantly rushed to the building of the Hokage, wanting to tell Minato everything. Since you were his wife you were permitted to visit him whenever you liked to. One of the shinobi inside the building had told you that he had an important talk right now and had told everyone to not interrupt him. But you had ignored him and had walked to the office since the news you had were important as well. But when you had reached the door to his office you had heard two voices which you had identified as Minato’s and Kakashi’s. And you had just stopped in front of the door and had listened. That had been your mistake.

Like this you had found out what had happened to all the people who had ever gone too rough on you. Of course you had heard that somehow they had all mysteriously lost their jobs, but you had never given it too much thought. But when you had heard Kakashi talking about how he had collected informations about a certain guy who had hurt and had found a few dirty secrets and if he should do everything else you had started to rethink all this events. But you had only understood the impact of this conversation when Minato had said he wanted to let this guy suffer a bit before punishing him for attacking you. You had an idea about who they had been talking about. You remembered that there had been a few weeks ago where you had been attacked by a guy who had been clearly drunk. The people surrounding you had stepped in to help you, but you had still suffered some injuries. That’s when you had realized why everyone who had seemed to cause you some serious damage in the past had suddenly lost everything. Because of Minato! You had instantly stepped back and ran home, hoping that both of them would never find out that you had been there. But sadly one of the people who had seen you walking in had told Minato that you had wanted to visit him, but for some reaso had ran only a few minutes later with a scared expression out of it. And Minato was everything, but stupid and had realized that you had overheard his and Kakashi’s conversation.

“(y/n). Please!”, you heard him begging. You stared with mixed emotions at the door. “Go away. I don’t want to see you.”, you said with bitterness lacing your voice. He stopped knocking on your door upon hearing you finally responding to him. “I can’t believe you! You’re the fourth Hokage. You’re supposed to protect the village and it’s citizens. It’s not your job to make them lose their jobs and faces. You could have punished them properly as the Hokage, but instead you decided to sink that low? I thought you were better.”, you spit out. You heard Minato taking a deep breath outside, probably to calm his nerves down. “(y/n). Open the door.” You furrowed your eyebrows. His tone had changed. It sounded more demanding. “I don’t want to. Sorry, I’m not interested in opening my doors for a criminal.”, you replied almost sarcastic. For a few seconds it became quiet before you heard him chuckling. What was so funny? This situation was serious and he just laughed? “I’m sorry to interrupt your amusement, but this isn’t the time to laugh.”, you said. “Believe me I know that. It’s just funny to think about that you would rather have me breaking the door than open it willingly.” Breaking...the door? You admitted that you hadn’t thought about that, but it would be indeed a piece of cake for him to break the door. Why had you even run back to the house in the first place? You should have just run away. But from what use would that have been? He was the Hokage, the whole village knew that you were married to him and to whom exactly could you have run to? Your family members were absolutely in love with him as well as all your friends. Even if you would have told somebody about what you had heard, they would have never believed you. That was the reason why you hadn’t run away. Because you knew that you had no other options.

You slowly stood up and walked to the door. With shaking hands you turned the lock around and slowly opened the door. You didn’t dare to look up in his face, you couldn’t bear it to think about that Minato had done such things. Minato stepped inside your shared bedroom and was quick to engulf you in a hug. “I’m so sorry you had to witness this. But I promise, I only did it to those persons who really deserved it.” Normally you would have always found comfort in his hugs, but now you couldn’t stop trembling in his arms. You really didn’t want to accept the fact that he had done such terrible things, but you had heard it and he had even admitted it. “Darling. You look a bit pale and you’re shaking. Are you alright? Do you feel sick?” Minato quickly led you to the bed and made you sit down. He checked your temperature by laying his hand on your forehead. “Do you feel ill? Or is it just because of the current situation?” It was both. You did feel in general the last few weeks from time to time a bit ill, that had been the reason why you had visited the hospital, but you guessed finding out the truth about Minato had only strengthened your nausea. You knew that you would throw up.

“Can you get me a trashcan?”, you asked him weakly, feeling your stomach spinning up and down. You didn’t have to ask twice for this. The next moment Minato vanished only to appear a few seconds later with the requested object. You wanted to thank him, but couldn’t because the next moment you felt your breakfast coming up. You bent over the trashcan and started throwing everything you had eaten today up. Minato held your hair back with one hand and rubbed with the other soothing circles on your back. No lie, you felt shitty in that moment. For more than one reason. After a few torturing minutes you stopped retching all the food up, having emptied your stomach. You let a exhausted sigh out. “Are you feeling better now?”, Minato asked you worriedly. “I still feel like shit, but at least now I have nothing in my stomach that I could throw up.”, you replied. “You came to visit me today in my office because you had your medical appointment. I know that if it wouldn’t have been something important you would have waited. What did they find out?”

You tensed up. That’s right. You had to tell him. You had been so happy to tell him, but now everything had changed. You started to feel angry all of a sudden. “How could you do that? You lied to me!”, you hissed angrily and moved away from him. “(y/n). I understand that you’re disappointed, but-“ He was interrupted by you. “No but! There is no excuse for this! Even though you only did it to protect me, that doesn’t change a damn thing! These people had family and friends and lost because of you everything! You’re a monster! But the worst of all is that I won’t be able to leave you! Not only would I bring the whole village against me, but my parents and friends would be disappointed in me as well. And now I’m-I’m-“ You couldn’t finish your sentence, feeling despair rushing through your blood. Minato wanted to comfort you, but you slapped his hands angrily away. “Don’t touch me! That’s all your fault! I bet that you planned all of this beforehand! Making my family enamored with you do that they would never let me leave you! And now that I know that I’m carrying your child there’s no way I’ll ever be able to leave you! I’m not that cruel to let the child grow up without it’s father!”

Minato had a flabbergasted expression on his face. “You’re...pregnant?”, he stuttered. You nodded. “That means...I’m going to be a father?” Was he deaf? “Yes, you’re going to be a father! Are you really that stunned that you can’t even understand this?!” For a few moments it looked like his brain needed a few moments until he finally understood. “I’m going to be a father!” In less than a second you were suddenly in his arms. He had exactly the reaction you had expected him to have, joy. You knew that Minato really had wanted to start a family with you for a while now. This moment was supposed to be perfect, but you couldn’t really feel happy. Not anymore. You had a sad look in your eyes whilst thinking about the little infant. You had always wished to give your children a happy life, but you just realized that this dream would now be impossible. You would never be able to give the child a happy family, not as long as you knew about what Minato had done and would continue in the future. Minato noticed your worries. “Don’t stress yourself too much about what you’ve just found out. Stress isn’t good for the baby. I promise that everything will be alright. You know that I would never do something that would harm you. I’m sure that we can talk this out and find a solution if we try hard enough.” You shook your head. “How can you talk so lightly about this like it’s nothing? You know that I can’t forgive you for that. It isn’t that simple.”

“You have to try it at least.”, he told you softly. “And if you don’t want to do it for me,”, one of his hands stroke gently over your stomach,”then do it for the baby. They deserve a happy family, don’t you think so?” You did think so. And you also knew that you would give all of this a try. Not necessarily for Minato, but more for the baby. You were stuck. You chuckled hopelessly. “You’ve won...”, you mumbled quietly and let your muscles relax, accepting your defeat. “You sound so hopeless. I can’t change what happened, but I can make sure that you’ll love me again. It will be alright.”, he mumbled with a gentle voice. You were scared. Scared that he might be able to do it. And you were scared for your child and your future. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll look cute with a swollen stomach carrying our child.”

#yandere naruto #yandere naruto shippuden #yandere minato #yandere minato namikaze

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fanfics-of-marvel · 3 years

Note

Are you up for writing winter13? 40. “Once you’ve tasted me, you’d never want anybody else”

Hello there anon! Thank you so much for the great prompt! ♥ I’m really sorry this comes so so late but I’m very busy in my daily life and I had to leave tumblr for a while. Anyway, I hope you’d still get to read it even though you’re anon and I hope you’ll enjoy it! ♥

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REQUESTS ARE CLOSED

Release date: 25/01/21

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter

Summary: Bucky seemes to have recovered after his rescue from Hydra but Sharon continues to be reluctant anout it and believes he still works for the Nazi organization. One day while she follows him in hopes to catch him on the act she discovers his secret which turnes out to be much more different than she had imagined.

Words count: 3 292

A/N: The side S.H.E.I.L.D. agents are made up for the story and do not resemble any other Marvel characters

Warnings: Mentioning of a bad word

Requests | Masterlist

I’m not a native English speaker, so there might be spelling or grammatical mistakes.

This fic is my own work, it is not to be re-posted on this site or posted anywhere else without my knowledge and consent!

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Sharon wasn’t remotely impressed by Bucky. He was nothing more than the next mission, the next target in the endless list of targets. Even though this one was quite different from the others.

With this target came the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. But with S.H.I.E.L.D.’s destruction came Hydra’s demolition as well. Everything and everyone was shortly eliminated, all but one. In Steve’s request Bucky’s life was spared.

He was kept in a dark dungeon – one of the few parcels of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s that had remained. For months he was supervised by the remaining agents, including Steve himself and Sharon. At first he didn’t show any signs of recovery. He still seemed to be in the state under Hydra’s control. There were moments of clarity in his mind when he seemed to have recognized Steve, when he seemed to have questioned everything and everyone he had faced with Hydra. But he still wasn’t his own self. He was still somebody else – the person Hydra had turned him into.

Steve didn’t give up on Bucky. Month after month he was always by his best friend’s side, worked with him, told him stories of their past until little by little his buddy was back. It was most sensational news when Fury gave the order to release Barnes and took off his status “Danger to S.H.I.E.L.D.”. There were many protests including from Sharon. She insisted that Bucky wasn’t to be trusted, that once altered he most probably would never change back, and that he was a ‘ticking bomb’ left by Hydra’s legacy and could explode in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s face any moment. Especially during such a fragile moment while the agency was still recovering itself.

However, Fury was firm in his decision. He knew that maybe Barnes wasn’t to be trusted but he knew that Steve was. And if Steve said Bucky was ready to go back to the world, then he was ready. Steve knew his buddy better than anyone else and spent months to make sure of that.

At the beginning Bucky was under stringent surveillance. He could barely take a shower without S.H.I.E.L.D.’s supervision. But as time went by the control got milder. There were moments in which Bucky was free to do activities on his own and even smaller walks among the society.

Sharon never let down her guard. She was always extra cautious with Bucky and often supervised him on her own. She still believed he might be a part of Hydra and that he was faking everything. She didn’t know Bucky was slowly turning into his older charming self.

One afternoon Sharon followed Bucky as he went out on a short walk. He had been out many times without any troubles occurring but she was still reluctant to believe. She followed Bucky as he walked through the nearby park, watched him as he bought a hot dog from the street stand and slowly ate it while watching some youngers doing the craziest flips and acrobatics with their bikes and skateboards. He seemed to be genuinely fascinated by today’s youth and how much the world has changed. Sharon wasn’t impressed.

After Bucky finished his meal he walked towards the town’s market. He stopped at a florist shop and bought the prettiest bouquet. Sharon was a little surprised. Bucky paid for the flowers and strode down the road. Sharon needed to fasten her pace in order to keep up with Bucky. But he disappeared with the agility of a panther. Or more specifically – a deadly killing machine designed for efficiency and minimum failure.

Sharon’s breath stopped for a moment. Was this it? The moment in which the ‘ticking bomb’ was about to explode? Was the hot dog, the flowers and everything else beforehand just a bait which S.H.I.E.L.D. bought? Was this really the end?

Sharon circled the perimeter but she couldn’t find a trace of Bucky. Her blood cooled, she felt her stomach turning upside down, and cold sweat emerged. She failed. She was hoping to catch something suspicious in Bucky’s behavior which she could report back to base and finally have him chained again. But it seemed like he was so skilled that he had managed to fool her as well in his plans.

“Base, this is Agent 13,” she said on her com with a trembling voice. “We have a Code Winter. I repeat – Code Winter. The subject has showed suspicious and abnormal behavior. I repeat – the subject is suspected in treachery.”

“Agent 13, this is Base,” she heard the even and unbothered voice of Agent Finery. “Can you clarify more upon your report?”

“What is there to clarify, Roy?” Sharon screeched on the com. She was getting out of her skin – her biggest nightmare seemed to be closer to reality.

“Agent 13, I’d ask you to calm down,” Agent Finery seemed to be caviling. Sharon nearly broke the device in her hand with her squeeze. “Bucky Barnes is no longer under permanent surveillance and is a level 2 threat. No one is even supposed to be supervising him now. What in his behavior prompted your report?”

Sharon took a deep breath. Stupid bureaucracy. Everything would have been so much easier without it. “I was following the subject on my own,” she never referred to him as ‘Bucky’ or ‘Barnes’, always as ‘the subject’. “I think he had noticed me somehow and disappeared from my sight in no time. You know how skilled he is. I believe it was his intention to lose me, so I wouldn’t know where he’s going.”

After a short pause Sharon heard, “Or maybe you were a little slower?” Agent Finery asked unpleasantly. “You seem to…,” Roy’s words were interrupted.

“What’s going on?” Steve asked imperiously. “I heard somebody talking about ‘Code Winter’ back there,” the rumor had spread with the speed of light.

“Oh thank god, Steve,” Sharon sighed with relief. “Finally somebody with a brain,” she said returning the carping.

“Are you sure in what you’re saying?” Steve had overtaken the communication from Agent Finery. The latter looked like a little boy compared to the Super Soldier’s physique.

“I noticed abnormal behavior, Steve,” there was an intense pause. “I think he noticed I was following him and he vanished from my eyes skillfully.”

There was a long painful sigh.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” Sharon said. “I wish it was otherwise.”

“Alright, where are you now?” Steve finally said.

“At the town’s market,” Sharon said overexcited. Somebody finally listened to her. “The alley with souvenirs. Approximately where I saw him last.”

“Stay where you are unless you see Bucky. Keep us updated if anything happens,” Steve ordered Sharon and left the base with a battalion of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s finest agents.

Sharon sighed in relief. S.H.I.E.L.D. were on their way led by Steve himself. She looked around for more traces trying to stay as close as possible to where she was. She thought she was alone when she turned around and suddenly noticed a bouquet of flowers in front of her face. Her sharp deadly reflexes were activated in a millisecond. She took her weapon out of the holster while her other arm swung towards the flowers and the hands that were holding them. But before she managed to do any of that the opposing person disarmed her with the finest skills. Her gun was on the ground and her back was pressed at her attacker. How did he manage to turn her so fast? A cold sharp blade was pressed at her neck. She couldn’t breathe and her pulse was accelerated.

“Shall we try this again?” Sharon clearly heard Bucky’s voice.

With the same dexterity Bucky turned Sharon towards him. When she looked at Bucky still slightly dazed the knife was already put away. Damn, the speed! Bucky bent down to pick up her weapon and the bouquet he had thrown during the little scuffle. He sighed. It had gotten a little dusty and some of the stems had broken.

“Your gun,” Bucky said and handed Sharon the weapon. There was a hint of disappointment in his voice.

Sharon took her weapon cautiously with her eyes fixed upon him. She doubted she could be faster than him. It was probably for the best if she sustained a conversation until the back-up came.

“Aren’t you going to put it in the holster?” Bucky asked with a foxy smile. There was something on his mind. “There are people in here. Civilians. We wouldn’t want any accidents, would we?”

‘Well played’, Sharon thought to herself.

After her gun was put away Bucky looked at the damaged flowers, hesitated for a moment, sighed and handed them towards Sharon. “These are for you,” he said sounding somewhat frustrated.

Sharon looked at the bouquet with a rapid breathing. Was there a bomb in there? A weapon? Chloroform spray? For the first time in her carrier she didn’t know what to do.

Bucky sighed. “I know they’re not as pretty. But it was your fault they fell on the ground.”

Sharon was standing frozen. For the first time in her career she was facing a threat far more skilled than herself. Furthermore, they were standing at a lively part of the city which could have led to many casualties. She wished she had called for back-up earlier.

Bucky pulled the bouquet backwards. He sensed how terrified Sharon was even though she was hiding it professionally. He realized he might have startled her with that sudden appearance.

“Are you alright?” Bucky asked cautiously. “Did I scare you earlier?”

Sharon was still standing motionless. She knew she had to start speaking, so he wouldn’t run away. After all, S.H.I.E.L.D. were on their way.

“I’m fine,” Sharon finally said with a shuddering voice. “You just startled me a little bit. That’s all,” she even forced a slight smile.

“I definitely didn’t mean that,” Bucky replied with care in his tone. “I just wanted to give you the flowers but,” he looked at them and seemed a little embarrassed. “It’s been like 70 years… I’ve lost form,” he smiled shyly.

Sharon got quite confused. Bucky seemed to refer to his life hitherto Hydra’s capture. But what did he mean?

“I don’t know why I thought surprising you in such a way would be fun,” Bucky continued talking with bitterness. “Girls used to like it. But that was in the ‘40s, of course,” he faintly smiled remembering the good old days. “Now everything is so different,” he looked around him thoughtfully.

“I’m sorry?” Sharon said after a short pause. She was completely tangled.

Bucky looked at her seemingly terrified. “Oh, no. No, no. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you or anything,” he was slightly panicking. “It really has been so long and after all… I was somebody else for a while. I really didn’t know what to do. Somebody suggested buying you flowers and here they are,” he handed the bouquet towards her again.

Sharon looked at the flowers. Then at Bucky’s hopeful expression. Then at the bouquet again. After a pause she looked at him again.

“Are you hitting on me?” Sharon’s voice sounded both shocked and angry.

Bucky got terrified again. Did he mess up? He pulled the flowers at him. The hopeful expression switched to a hopeless one.

“Well, I was trying,” Bucky said wearily facing down. “The bouquet was definitely prettier before and I guess I shouldn’t have startled you,” he puffed. “And I used to be so good at this,” he added quietly, obviously talking to himself.

“Wait,” Sharon really needed to clear the matter up. “What is going on actually?” she sounded demanding.

“Um, well…,” Bucky started stuttering. “You know… the flowers for you and… a surprise, I hoped… which you’d like,” he smiled as if he had actually made sense.

“What!?” Sharon yelled. She really needed to hear it all clear.

“I like you!” Bucky shouted back pressed from her behavior.

Sharon stared at him with her eyes and mouth wide open. He didn’t look like the most deadly human-weapon. He looked like a terrified puppy.

“I really like you, okay?” he continued. He thought it’d be best to just talk straight. “You were there. The whole time. While I was recovering and remembering. There were many people, yes. But I had eyes only for you,” he said those last words so romantically that Sharon’s knees nearly bent. “I noticed you sometimes followed me and when I gained enough confidence I decided to act,” Bucky looked down at the flowers. “I was a little too shy to ask anybody for advice what to do. I mean, I said I like a girl but I didn’t say who the girl is. And the advice was to just buy flowers. I guess that’s why I didn’t do the right thing. Maybe you don’t like flowers,” he smiled bitterly.

Sharon was still trying to figure out whether Bucky was being sincere or acting up in order to fool her. But he seemed so genuine in his reactions and facial expressions. She has had a closer look at the Winter Soldier. His only expression was the frowned eyebrows and his only words were channeled towards conversations for killing. But now Bucky sounded entirely different. So genuine. So human.

“Oh, no, no. It’s not you,” now Sharon felt embarrassed. “It’s me. I got quite nervous,” was it really sane to be saying those words out? “When you disappeared from my sight I thought you were escaping. I thought The Winter Soldier had woken up and you were running away from S.H.I.E.L.D.,” she said the final words cautiously.

“Oh,” Bucky laughed adorably. “Understandable, yeah. I only did it because I wanted to surprise you. You didn’t leave me out of your sight. I had to be creative,” he smiled so charmingly that Sharon subconsciously giggled.

She couldn’t deny Bucky was an attractive man. He had cut the long Winter Soldier hair, his beard was stubble, his appearance – most intriguing. Sharon didn’t admit at herself but she definitely had sympathies for Bucky from the very beginning. Those steel blue eyes in which you could stare at for all of eternity. Those luring naughty lips which she desired to bite playfully. His firm tight body that she had observed many times during his recovery. And that damn metal arm. Why was it so arousing to even think about it?

Suddenly, Sharon felt a little dizzy. There was something in the air. Bucky’s charm was ravishing and on point. She completely forgot about the back-up from S.H.I.E.L.D. which she called earlier.

Sharon didn’t realize it but she was smiling like an idiot. She giggled again and subconsciously played with her hair like a school girl. When was the last time somebody flirted with her?

“I do like flowers,” she finally said with twinkling eyes and a provocative smile.

“Good,” Bucky replied curving his lips.

Sharon looked down at the bouquet and spoke playfully. “But you’ll have to buy me new ones.”

“Is that so?”

The shyness and suspicion had entirely faded from the conversation and were replaced by flirting and provoking.

“Can I compensate some other way?” imperceptibly Bucky had made a step closer to Sharon.

“Like how?” Sharon was totally consumed by Bucky’s enchanting powers. Even an exploding atom bomb wouldn’t move her eyes from his.

“A kiss, maybe?” he said unceremoniously.

Sharon gasped. How dared he?

“Judging by the bouquet your kissing abilities are questionable,” Sharon didn’t realize she was playing a dangerous game.

“Doll,” Bucky said in the sexiest voice ever. “Once you’ve tasted me, you’d never want anybody else”.

In a matter of a second Bucky grabbed Sharon’s waist and pulled her so close that he took her breath away. He pressed his lips at hers so passionately that her knees weakened. If Bucky wasn’t holding her Sharon would’ve fallen on the ground.

Shivers ran through her back, her whole body trembled, her pussy tingled, her body filled with so much oxytocin that she got dizzy again. Sharon felt the kiss on so many levels.

When Bucky finally moved his lips away she was like plasticine in his arms. Just hanging there letting him do anything he wanted with her. A quiet sigh exited her lips. Oh, what a day.

“Nice,” suddenly they heard Steve’s voice.

Sharon jumped out of Bucky’s arms so startled that she nearly fell. She looked at the back-up she had called. There were so many people, maybe even a whole division staring at her and Bucky smiling smugly. At the front was Steve. His smile was even wider than the others’.

“So,” Steve looked at Bucky. “That’s the girl?”

Bucky smiled shyly looking down while Sharon closed her eyes wishing the ground would suddenly open and swallow her.

“Like I said earlier,” Steve continued. “Nice,” he was smiling so much that it was ridiculous.

“Carter,” she heard the voice of Agent Johnson. The protégé of agent Finery and the second most annoying person in S.H.I.E.L.D. “Code Winter is for abnormal behavior. If you haven’t been kissed until now, well, this isn’t abnormal,” he was caviling at her just like his ‘original’.

Everyone started laughing. Now Sharon wished the ground would suddenly open and swallow them.

“Alright, alright,” Steve shouted at the excited crowd. “There’s nothing more to see here,” he barely held his giggle. They weren’t supposed to see anything whatsoever. “Apparently, there’s been a mistake. There’s no Code Winter. I repeat – Code Winter is called off. Everyone back to base,” Steve gave his orders and looked at the embarrassed couple after all of the agents had left still laughing and commenting. “So,” he started with a smile.

“I’m really sorry, Steve,” Sharon said embarrassed. “It’s all my fault. I’ll take full responsibility over my actions. I shouldn’t have called Code Winter before I had seen firmer evident…”

“Sharon, it’s alright,” Steve said warmly still smiling.

“No, Steve, it’s not. I called for back-up and so many agents came and got involved. I deviated everyone’s attention. What if an actual and more dangerous threat had appeared? I could have jeopardized everything.”

“Sharon,” Steve’s voice and smile were so warm that they could’ve melted the nearby ice-cream stand. “You had every reason to assume the worst. Bucky is a mystery and definitely looks like a bad boy,” Steve said facetiously.

“What?” Bucky objectified with a smile.

Steve giggled. Then returned to Sharon. “Agents like you are the ones who keep S.H.I.E.L.D. from falling apart completely. You did the right thing. Don’t blame yourself about anything.”

“Thank you, Steve,” for the first time since everything Sharon smiled genuinely.

“Well, I guess it’s best to leave you two to… whatever you were doing before we interrupted you,” Steve said playfully and winked at Bucky. “Just like the old times. You still got it.”

Bucky and Sharon smiled shyly as Steve walked away. Then they spent the rest of the day together. Bucky bought her a new bouquet, they went for a walk, and tested their shooting skills at the local shooting gallery. Sharon seemed to be the better shooter. Bucky justified himself that The Winter Soldier’s skills seem to be fading away. He never admitted to Sharon that he withheld his skills that day, so that she would win.

For a while everyone at the base joked with them. Some started referring to the happening as ‘Code Love’ or ‘Code Kiss’. Bucky and Sharon did everything possible to not pay attention to their annoying colleagues. And expectedly as time passed by everyone started getting bored with the jokes. Sharon and Bucky turned into the ultimate couple. They were the best agents S.H.I.E.L.D. had and never failed a mission. The jest turned into respect and after a while nobody made any more jokes about Sharon and Bucky.

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Thank you for reading! If you liked it please react - reply/like/reblog! Your support is appreciated!

This fic is my own work, it is not to be re-posted on this site or posted anywhere else without my knowledge and consent!

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justinalovee · 3 years

Text

Now we live

Previous chapter

Chapter: 0.06

Nova turned another corner hearing the footsteps that had been following her down the hallway, she stepped into a small empty room. Letting out a sigh she turned to see the person she hated most in the world staring at her.

“I’m sorry.” Letting out a scoff Nova turned to walk away when a sobbing noise caused her to stop. “I deserved what’s going to me, I know that. Raven, Clarke, Abby, Kane all trying to beg for my life when we both know I don’t deserve a second chance. I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

The grounder stared at without showing any emotion. “You killed my sister, and her unborn baby.”

“I know.”

“And my friend,” she sighed. “Treyton would have been able to get your people out of mount weather.”

“I know.”

“Why did you do it? Why did you decide to massacre an entire village full of innocent people?” Nova blinked away fresh tears. “Nobody deserves to die like that.”

Finn wiped away his own tears before shaking his head. “I thought I was doing it for love. It was never my intention to harm anyone. I just wanted to find Clarke.” The blonde girl from before. “I didn’t know about the mountain men, and I was convinced the grounders took her.”

“And you would have done anything to get her back?” Finn nodded. “Is Clarke your life partner?”

“No, she hates me. It’s complicated, you wouldn’t get it.”

Nova frowned, “try me.”

______

“You don’t need to follow me around Nova,” Murphy scoffed.

He liked his grounder friend, but ever since he punched Bellamy she had been strangely clingy to him. Almost as if she was afraid to let him out of her sight.

“Your people don’t like you, I don’t trust them.”

Murphy laughed at her comment. She was right. Nova had overheard his conversation with Clarke, and had jumped in to defend him.

“You were with him at the village.”

“I tried to stop him.”

“Not hard enough.”

Nova finally snapped, “John did everything he could. It’s not his fault somebody went crazy and massacred innocent people.”

Murphy cut Clarke off before she had a chance to respond. “You know what, you want to start blaming people, Clarke? He was out there looking for you."

“Yeah, well...let’s say I’ve given them plenty of reasons to hate me. I can’t expect them to trust me over night. Maybe I’m only a one compadre at a time person anyway.” Murphy stopped walking when he saw the confused look on Nova’s face. He smiled and shoved her shoulder playfully, “It means friend.”

“Will you tell me about it someday? What happened when you fell from the sky?”

“Only if you let me use your bow and arrow.”

Nova paused for a moment, “no deal.”

They continued to walk in silence, both of them taking in the beauty of the forest around them. Murphy had walked in the same direction many times, but this was the first time he truly appreciated it. He glanced at the grounder by his side, the sunlight caused her different eye colours to be more obvious. He had heard mocking comments in Arkadia about her eyes, but to him they were beautiful.

“Are we really friends?” Nova asked.

Murphy blushes, realising he had been caught staring. “Uh...I guess. Why?”

“Friends forgive friends when they do something bad.”

He frowned at the comment. What was she planning on doing? “You can alway just tell me what’s going on. I’m not very good at decoding things.”

“I can’t,” she shook her head. “Trust me...if things go south over the next few days, just know I appreciated you looking out for me.”

Although he didn’t like it, Murphy let the subject go. Nova had been awful quiet, and he knew it wasn’t because of the whispers around camp. She was hiding something from him.

______

When they reached the drop-ship Bellamy, Raven, Finn, and a wounded Clarke were already there waiting. Nova noticed the look of anger that crossed the brunette's face.

“Why is she here?” Raven spat. “We are trying to save Finn, not hand him over to the grounders.”

Just as an argument was about to break out among the group, Finn interrupted them. “Don’t be mad at Murphy, I asked Nova to come.”

“Why?” Clarke asked.

Nova rolled her eyes seeing the blonde girl from before. Couldn’t she have stayed at camp? Both Raven and Clarke stared at the grounder, wishing she wasn’t there. Clarke felt guilty every time she looked at her. Nova reminded her of what they did to her and Lincoln. Raven was pissed, Nova wasn’t a part of her plan.

“Murphy, what are you doing here?” Bellamy finally asks.

He turned to look at Raven. “I believe I was invited.”

Nova glanced between the sky people, something was off. Finn was right. The spacewalker had warned her beforehand that his friends would try to save him. She spoke directly to Raven, “why did you really invite John here? And don’t say it was for an extra pair of hands.”

“Finn wasn’t the only one in the village.”

Bellamy shook his head, “Raven hold on.”

Murphy looked at her, shocked. “Whoa. Raven, I came here to protect him. You were the one who wanted me to come. You…” He paused. “That’s why you asked me to come along.”

Raven turned to face her friends, to try and convince them of her cause. “Enough Grounders saw him at the village. They’d believe he was the shooter.”

“I was there!” Nova yelled. “I saw what he did. What Finn did. Lexa won’t accept somebody else’s life over his.”

“Go to hell!” Murphy hissed.”

“Drop your gun!”

Raven took a step closer to Murphy, causing Nova to point her arrow at her. The moment was tense. Nobody except from Finn and Murphy knew for sure that Nova wouldn’t shoot Raven.

“This is stupid,” Finn said. “We need to split up so we don’t kill each other. Murphy, cover the upper level and take Nova with you. I’ll take the lower level, and the rest of you guys cover the front gate.”

As Murphy started to head towards the ladders, he noticed Finn whispering something into Nova’s ear. He watched as she nodded and followed him without saying a word. “What did he just say to you?”

“Nothing important.”

______

The screams and pleads from the Skaikru landed on deaf ears. Finn still walked towards the grounders to hand himself in.

Murphy walked up behind Nova and spoke low enough so only she would hear. “You knew he was going to do that, didn’t you?”

She nodded.

“You should have told me.” Murphy couldn’t hide the pain in his voice, he felt betrayed by her not telling him. “Anything else I need to know about?”

Nova opened her mouth to answer him but she’s closed it again. “I can’t tell you, it’s better if you don’t know.”

“Wh-what will happen to him?”

“It starts with fire. Then they’ll take his hands, tongue, and eyes. All who grieve will get a turn with the knife. And at sunrise, if he still lives, the Commander will kill him with her sword.” Nova turned to see a look of horror on Murphy’s face, she placed a hand on his cheek. “But I won’t let that happen.”

“How?” He asked, confused. “How can you stop any of this?”

“I can only do so much. But I can’t tell you...”

Murphy pushes her hand away, “because you don’t trust me?”

“You’ve got it wrong, I’m not telling you because I trust you. And your opinion matters to me, I’m afraid you’ll hate me for this. What I might cause...”

“Nova, what the hell are you planning on doing?”

______

The chanting for blood got louder as Finn was approached by the blonde girl Clarke. Nova had noticed the knife Raven had handed her, but Lexa wasn’t stupid. Her commander would have someone check her before she approached Finn.

Once Clarke had said her goodbyes, a couple of grounders shoved her aside as the ritual was about to begin. The drums started to beat faster as Finn searched the crowd for the face he was longing to see, he finally spotted her. He smiled and nodded.

Before the first grounder could cut him with their knife, an arrow landed in Finn’s heart.

“Yu gonplei ste odon,” Nova spoke quietly, before jumping down from the tree she was in.

She watched the brunette crumple to the ground as Bellamy caught her. A few other sky people, including Clarke broke down in tears. Nova gulped down as her commander looked directly at her. Lexa’s eyes weren’t full of venom as Nova expected, but instead a soft expression of pride crossed her face.

She let out a deep breath as her hands began to shake. The realisation finally hit her. She had just killed someone. Nova had killed him. Finn had murdered her friends and family, but knowing that still didn’t make her feel any better.

“Nova...”

She spun around to see Murphy looking at her like he never had before. Pity. She didn’t want his sympathy.

“He asked me too,” she explained quietly. “He didn’t want the people he loved to see him suffer.”

The moment Murphy heard the break in her voice he pulled Nova into him. She rested her head against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her tightly, feeling her sobbing against him.

Still onto her, he quickly kicked her bow into the bushes. Just in time. Bellamy approached them. Nova held onto Murphy tigger, knowing if she faced the sky people she would break.

Bellamy cleared his throat, not sure if they knew he was there. Murphy looked up and nodded. “The grounders think one of us killed Finn, so we are all being questioned by Kane.”

_______

Lexa looked at Nova blankly. “Some might think you don't want justice, you want vengeance."

“They have not seen my vengeance.” Nova paused. “He explained his reasons for doing what he did, and asked me to spare his loved ones the pain I suffered.”

“And you agreed?”

“I didn’t at first,” Nova confessed. “I wanted him to die, but then I thought about my sister. Vengeance isn’t what she would have wanted.”

“That’s not the only reason,” Lexa looked at her knowingly. “You wanted to meet death.”

Nova nodded ashamed, “I did. At the time I really did. I went against your orders, and for that I ask you for forgiveness.”

“I will give you that, but I am proud of you.” Nova stared at her shocked. Was she imagining this? “I should have you killed for betraying me, and I will if you cross me again.” Lexa studied her for a moment before speaking again. “What about the one they call Murphy, he was in Tondic when it happened.”

Oh no. Nova began to shake her head rapidly. “He didn’t- he saved me more than once.”

“Explain.”

“When the sky people captured me he and another person called Octavia refused to torture me. John cleaned my wounded feet, gave me extra water, and food. He brought me clean clothes and realised me.” Nova licked her lips. “When me and Treyton escaped the mountain men he saved me from his people.”

Lexa looked at her curiously, “but not Treyton?”

“No, we had split up by that point. He hid me when Finn was on his grounder killing spree. John also got into a physical fight with his own people when he thought one of them was trying to harm me. I’d be dead if it wasn’t for him.”

Lexa raised her eyebrows, the sky boy seemed to care for Nova. “I find it interesting how you speak so highly of him, considering we have been at war with his people. Love makes you weak.”

Nova watched as her commander rose from her chair. “Does anybody else know you shot Finn?”

“Only Murphy, but I believe him when he says he won’t tell anyone. How did you know it was me as soon as I did it?”

Lexa placed a hand on her shoulder, “You aren’t a warrior Nova, your heart is too soft. But you are one hell of a shot.”

Nova let a sad smile spread across her face.

“You will tell know one else of what you did, and you should stay away tomorrow.” Nova wanted to protest but she kept her mouth closed. “The moment the bodies are burned your emotions will give your secrets away.”

“Secrets? I only have one.”

Lexa shook her head. Oh how sweet, Nova doesn’t even know her own feelings yet. “As I said, love makes you weak.”

______

Nova walked away from her people feeling slightly shell shocked. The adrenaline from her mercy kill, and commander spearing her life had just started to wear off.

The stars shined brightly in the night sky, Nova looked up at them and imagined what it would be like in space. Seeing such things everyday.

Hearing the rustle of footsteps, she looked back down to see Murphy. He had been waiting on her. A small smile graced her lips as she accepted the hand he offered her. Fingers locked together they walked back up the hill together in silence.

Next chapter

#the 100 #John Murphy #john murphy/grounder #john murphy/oc #john murphy imagine #john murphy x oc #the 100 x oc #murphy the 100 #the 100 imagine #the 100 fanfiction #grounders #Bellamy Blake #finn collins #clarke griffin #heda lexa #raven reyes #lexa the 100

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the-lady-writes-what · 4 years

Text

Twisted Dream

Yandere!Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader

WARNING: Contents include somnophilia, non-con/dub-con, drugging, unhealthy perceptions, “yandere” behavior, blackmail, emotional manipulation, and an unreliable narrator. Readers discretion is advised.

(All underaged characters are aged up. I do not writer minors in adult situations. Izuku is over 18 here)

Izuki snuck into the master bedroom undetected, quiet as a mouse. He groped around in the shadows but quickly found his footing. He passed around the room as if he had been within the confines of Katsuki's bedroom several times beforehand. But not for the reason one might think. It was never his rival and school bully that garnered Izuku's obsession. Somebody like Katsuki could never understand how good he had it. Top-ranking pro-hero, wealthy, and above all married to the most beautiful woman ever born. Someone who bullied and stepped on others to get what they wanted could never understand the passion made manifest in Izuku.

How did Katsuki manage to bag a refined woman like you, Izuku wondered. You had all the gifts and virtues Katsuki so desperately lacked. You were cultured, intelligent, witty, and oh-so-delicate. You were as fragile as a porcelain doll. How did only Izuku see it? He thought about how Katsuki looked at you from time to time. A piece of meat, a trophy wife, an art piece for him to show off to all his friends. Izuku never saw love in Katsuki's eyes for you, only admiration of you brought to the table of his pride and reputation. It churned Izuku's stomach watching from afar. All of your smiles had to be fake underneath it all. There was no way you could smile with any sincerity while holding Katsuki's hand.

So, there he was. He was standing in the middle of that bedroom with both you and Katsuki, unaware of his presence. Izuku heard your slow, steady breathing. Unhurried, Izuku made his way over to you and watched you sleep. Your clothes were rumpled and wrinkled from when you probably fell asleep as soon as the drug took effect. You discarded your shoes by the door, a fact Izuku confirmed when he almost tripped over them while sneaking inside. For the longest time, Izuku stood there to watch you. You were perfectly, completely unaware of what caused your sudden dizziness and strolled to your room to lay down for the rest of the evening. What you didn't know was that Izuku had followed behind to make sure that you didn't hurt yourself on the way up. It was the least he could do since it was his fault. You left your drink unattended. The wife of a pro-hero should have known bette

Izuku's hand trembled as he lifted the sheet and proceeded to make you more comfortable. Your silk dress in (favorite color) clung to your body like a second skin. Your darkened cheeks made you look so-deliciously innocent once you were naked. Moonlight streaming between the curtains cast a silver glow on your skin. Your soft, rounded breasts heaved with each breath; Izuku licked his lips. The bed dipped slightly under his weight. He crawled over your body and delighted in how the coolness of the evening somehow made your skin softer and more pliable than if you lay sweating in humid summer.

Izuku palmed your breasts, marveling at your twin peaks. He noticed how quickly your nipples pebbled at the first touch of his hand. Izuku threw off his shirt, vest, and tie and let them all pile on the floor. Katsuki wouldn't be coming upstairs anytime soon; Izuku made sure of it. Izuku's eager hands felt up your body. Since you couldn't protest, Izuku caressed, groped, and even pinched to his heart's content. Goosebumps arose all over your flesh. You shuddered in your dreamless slumber, only vaguely aware of what was happening to you. It felt more like a hyper-realistic dream than a dangerous reality. Izuku bent his head down and took one of your nipples into his mouth. He looked up at your face to make sure that you hadn't stirred too much before he started sucking. He licked and sucked on your breast like a hungry baby. He moaned softly while his other hand teased your other breast. Izuku bobbed his head while he sucked, unable to stop his hunger, then switched places. He treated the other as the first until he covered your chest in his spit and love bites. The dark violet marks stood out like bright arrows marking you as his.

Izuku felt himself harden with all of his administration. Just touching you was enough to get him going. He could come then and there, spraying your body with more marks of his possession. But it wouldn't be enough. Katsuki needed to know that he may have married you, but that didn't make you 'his.' That honor belonged to someone else, and Izuku was about to demonstrate that. His calloused fingers ran down your torso, played with your plush hips, and scored down your legs. He rubbed your muscles, then moved back up again. Your thighs parted with ease for him. Izuku shuddered as you opened to him like a flower bursting into bloom. Thin curly (hair color) hair hid a fantastic treasure. Izuku parted your folds and uncovered that sweet-looking bundle of nerves. He needed you to feel good before he did; Izuku couldn't control himself anymore.

Izuku dove between your legs. Your taste was unlike any other. He practiced on peaches for tonight, unsure of himself how best to please you. When you moaned in your sleep, he took it to mean to continue. Even in your sleep, you trusted that he could please you better than Katsuki could. Izuku licked and teased you with his tongue buried inside of you. His fingers were busy pinching your clit. His touch made you whine helplessly. Though still unconscious, your body shifted, and your hands twisted in the sheets. Izuku moaned as he worked. It wasn't long before he felt your walls flutter then clench tight. A flood of your essence coated his mouth. Izuku cleaned up the mess he made of you as he didn't want to waste a single drop.

Izuku’s cock strained against his pants. He stripped bare and quickly rearranged your body. You were still wonderfully pliant when he laid you out on your stomach with your head facing towards the door. Izuku pulled at your hips until he lifted them off the bed. He spread you open, the sight of which made him pause. Not out of anything like morality, but to adore your wet cunt he was about to ruin for Katsuki.

Izuku didn't wait. His pulse hammered against his temples as he aligned his cock against you. With one thrust, he buried his cock to the hilt. A groan erupted from deep within his throat. You felt so warm, wet, and tight inside for him; it was all for him.

"I love your body so much right now, Y/N. You're so tight and warm for me." Izuku started moving.

You moaned in your sleep while Izuku impaled you over and over. He roughly grabbed your hips and brought your body closer to his. There was almost no space between you. A thin sheen of sweat appeared on Izuku's brow as he plowed into you. He grit his teeth to keep himself from thrusting harder and hurting you. Your tight walls made it almost impossible for him 'not' to want to fuck you into the mattress. He wished that your eyes would open, and you saw him. Izuku wondered what your voice would sound like once you were splayed out for his pleasure alone. Would you mewl like a kitten or scream like a banshee as he fucked you?

Izuku couldn't imagine you acting like a tigress in bed. No, you were pure and simple. So easily corruptible. He was going to make you crave no one else but him. Izuku thrust in your body until your walls clenched around him. Warmth spread over his cock as you unconsciously came around him. The feeling of you surrounding him was enough to make Izuku throw caution to the wind. He bruised your hips while slamming hard into your tight cunt.

Izuku snapped his hips harshly against yours. His eyes scanned the room while he was still fucking your sleeping body. In the dark, a small red light shined in the corner of the room. Anybody wouldn't notice it unless they knew what they were looking for. He positioned himself so that the camera got a good look at what was being done to you. The camera didn't record audio, just video. Izuku would have to save a copy for himself later.

The thought of Katsuki eventually seeing his wife being railed from behind sent a pleasurable thrill through Izuku's body. His orgasm zipped shot down his body to his cock. Surrounded by your warm, tight walls, he came. Izuku bit his lower lip to keep himself from crying out too loud. He emptied himself. Slowly, Izuku pulled out. He quickly went to work erasing what he could of his presence in the room. There was a bathroom attached to the master bedroom; he used to dampen a washcloth and clean you up. Izuku dressed quickly and made a swift exit.

Three weeks later, Katsuki received an anonymous package at his agency. After testing it for drugs or explosives, he found a seemingly innocuous flash drive. He put it into his computer, and the flash drive contained only a single file. Katsuki played it, then read the note found inside the envelope: If you don't divorce your wife, we will make this video public. How does it feel, hero, to have been unable to stop what happened to your wife?

You fell quickly into Izuku's waiting arms. It was as if he knew you needed a shoulder to cry on. You silenced that nagging little voice in your head that said something was off. Izuku wouldn't have any reason to know why Katsuki started filing; they hadn't spoken in years. While you wept into Izuku's chest, clinging to him like a life-saving buoy, you couldn't see the smile creeping on his face.

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krreader · 4 years

Text

EXO reacting to you, a foreign idol, receiving hate after your relationship went public.

pairing: exo x foreign idol!reader fandom: exo warnings: language ; racism genre: angst ; fluff word count: 1.5k+

a/n: I wish the reality were a lot different, but with jongdae having received so much backlash.. god I just hope people will leave them all alone and let them love in peace.

kim minseok

Concerts were supposed to be a fun time for both idols, as well as fans.

But seeing stuff like this always made Minseok regret his career choices.

All he could do was stare at the racist sign that a fan was holding up in disbelief, maybe even a little bit of sadness and disappointment that one of his fans was behaving like so.

His band members must have seen his reaction, Junmyeon, as the leader instantly nodding towards the fan and a manager handled the rest from there.

She was gone, but what she had written on that sign was branded in his memory.

“You okay?” you asked later that night when you joined him in bed.

Minseok opened his mouth and looked at you, but then he closed it again and smiled, shaking his head a little, “Just tired.”

This wasn't something that you needed to know. He wanted to protect you from that world of hate as much as possible.

kim junmyeon

Junmyeon was so busy bowing to the artists that passed him that he didn't even notice your band being among them at first.

But the moment his eyes landed on you, his smile instantly widened.

PDA wasn't exactly something you could do here and you both knew it, neither of you was this stupid.

But the smile that Junmyeon had only reserved for you seemed to be enough to start a shit-storm online.

“Why is he only smiling at her like that? It's disgusting.”

“Does she think she's special or something? Somebody remind her that she's not.”

“Can she just go back to where she came from? It’s annoying me.”

Were just examples of hatefulness spread in online forums and the likes. But Junmyeon made sure that you wouldn't read them.

Right after the award show, he and you decided to – instead of going to the after-party – go straight home and just enjoy some alone time together.. without your phones.

You knew he was looking out for you when every time you wanted to check your messages, he pulled you closer and kissed you instead and every time you’d ask why, he’d just laugh and tell you that he couldn’t get enough of you.

And well.. his strategy worked.

zhang yixing

Yixing must have thought that with him barely being a part of EXO's promotions anymore, that fans would lay off of him and you.

Maybe give him a pass and let him live and love in peace.

That's why he brought you to the film premiere as his date, because he truly thought it would be fine.

But damn, fans were viscous.

The moment he and you stepped out of the car, they were screaming at you to get back to where you came from and it was.. a mess, to say the least.

Nevertheless, Yixing was proud to have you by his side and every chance he got for an interview, he mentioned it, wanting to show these “fans” that their racism wouldn't change his opinion on you in the slightest and that it was absolutely not appropriate here or anywhere else.

But he knew that this night wasn't easy for you, even if you smiled throughout the entire time and he was glad when it was finally over again and you were back home in the safety of your own four walls. There, he could at last wrap his arms around you and hold you close as you were finally allowed to shed a few tears.

“I'm so sorry,” he kept whispering into your hair, “I love you so much, never forget it.”

byun baekhyun

“Are you even able to communicate?” one of the interviewers asked Baekhyun after the topic of you and him having started dating came up.

And the question caught him off guard because, “You've.. talked with her.. lots of times before? And she spoke.. perfect Korean?”

“Well, yeah, but it's just.. she's not Korean.”

It was so stupid and everyone in the room knew it. Some of his band members snorted, others even started laughing, while Baekhyun just really didn't know what else to say to this.

“I think you handled it well,” you said later that night when you sat down next to him on the couch, “They just want gossip and they'll do anything to get it.”

“I just wish they'd stop disregarding you so much just because you’re not Korean.”

“My confidence is a lot bigger than they think,” you smiled and kissed his forehead, “I'll be fine, babe. You don’t have to worry about me,”

He pulled you into his arms with a sigh and held you there until the world felt like a better place again.

kim jongdae

Jongdae put down his phone with a heavy sigh after having read yet another headline that was so similar to all the ones before.

“South Korean idol Kim Jongdae dating foreign idol (Y/N) and fans aren't happy about it.”

It was a Korean article and people knew, even by his name alone, that Jongdae was Korean, but they still had to emphasize it.. because you weren't. And that was apparently an issue.

“How are you?” he texted you later.

“I'm okay, don't worry about me,” you replied only a few minutes later.

“But I am worrying. Don't read the articles, okay?”

“I'm fine, Jongdae, really. Media can suck my non-existing dick.”

After reading that line, Jongdae immediately started to smile and nod to himself.

You were right.

The media could sick his dick too.

park chanyeol

“What are you doing?” Chanyeol leaned down to press a kiss against the back of your head, his eyebrows furrowing when you were watching one of his music videos.

“Nothing..”

But from the way your voice sounded and the fact that your shoulders were slumped when you walked into the kitchen, it really didn't look like nothing.

So he followed you and pestered you for as long as it took for you to finally tell him what was bothering you.

“People keep comparing us to you guys. Saying that we have fewer views and that we're less popular and that it's all my fault.”

“(Y/N), they're just jealous.”

“I know.. but our relationship.. it's ruining my group's image, Chanyeol. These girls have worked so hard and it's..-” you let out a heavy sigh and shook your head.

“Hey,” he took a step closer and grabbed your chin to make you look at him, “Nobody is ruining anything, especially not you. You are an essential part of your group and without you, they'd lose an important puzzle piece.”

He must have known that you were hinting at leaving the group, but that wasn't something that Chanyeol would stand by and just watch. You had worked hard too.. and he wouldn't let you stop now just because some jealous idiots thought they had the power to destroy your life.

do kyungsoo

“I'm sure the situation isn't easy for you,” his new make-up artist said as she was doing the finishing touches on his face, “In regards to (Y/N), I mean.”

He didn't want to talk about it, but he appreciated her concern, so he said: “Thank you.”

“It's not easy when someone clings to you so hard that you can't get rid of them. I've been there.. but you'll escape the relationship eventually.”

That had him stare at her with confusion, “Wait... what?”

“I heard foreigners are extremely clingy... that's probably why.”

Needless to say, she had her job for exactly one day.

Kyungsoo wouldn't work with a racist, especially not one that disrespected his girlfriend like that.

kim jongin

They were doing a fan sign right now, the first one after Jongin's and your relationship got exposed.

He had been incredibly nervous beforehand, but so far, everyone was nothing but kind to him. Nobody had even mentioned you.

Until one fan came up.

“Don't you think you should find someone like yourself?”

Jongin stopped writing on her album momentarily, his eyes still on his writing, but then he continued with his signature with a smile, “She is like myself. An idol. An artist.”

“But she's a foreigner. She's not really like us.”

Jongin clenched his jaw, then looked up with a sweet, but very fake smile, “She's a human being. A very kind one. I hope that can be respected.”

The girl would have liked nothing more than to argue with him about this, but the manager ushered her to keep going and Jongin was with the next fan that was a lot nicer than the one before.

He was just glad that you hadn't been here to listen to what she had said.

oh sehun

“Hey, I just wanted to call you,” Sehun smiled as he accepted your call, but when he could hear you cry, he instantly froze, “What happened?”

“Are you sure this is good, Sehun? I don't think anyone approves.”

“What do you mean?” he furrowed his eyebrows and quickly hurried into an empty corridor where he could speak to you in peace.

“The fans.. your fans, they all.. hate me.”

Sehun let out a heavy sigh and closed his eyes for a moment.

So you had read all the nasty comments.

“(Y/N), don't read them. The people that write these things are not in their right state of mind. These people don't matter.”

Of course, it was easier for Sehun to just say these things as he was not the victim in this situation, at least not directly. But he still felt for you, of course he did, he loved you. All he could do was be there for you and continuously tell you and show you just how much you meant to him.

Your nationality didn't change that, despite what other people seemed to think

#exo scenario #exo imagine #exo reaction #exo x reader #exo #reader #requests #kpop imagine #kpop scenario #kpop reaction

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puckbuddies · 4 years

Text

Not quite a disaster

Tyson Jost x reader

2361 words

Warnings: swear words, mentions of bad dates?

From the prompt: “Yeah I’ll probably die alone.” “I asked if you were dining alone.”

The biggest thank you to @canadianheaters for helping and motivating me ❤

You were looking at your phone for what felt like the hundredth time in the past forty minutes. This guy you had met online and felt like you had a good connection with, had just stood you up. After four failed dates in the past month, this was the last straw.

The first guy was only after sex, which would have been fine if he told you that was what he wanted beforehand. Instead, he shouted at you after you declined the invitation to his apartment after a very mediocre date. A week after that, it was the most boring person you’d ever met. You felt horrible for making up an excuse to leave half an hour after you met them, but you couldn’t put yourself through any more frankly sleep-inducing conversation.

The last guy was the worst. He had asked you to go see a movie with him which in itself would have been fine. Except he chose a movie that you told him you’d already seen with your friends the week before. On top of that, he made you pay for parking and snacks and didn’t even try to talk to you at all the whole night.

Your hope had been dwindling throughout the month and another bad date was the last thing you needed. You’d been really excited about this one as well. Dylan, as your date was called, was very much out of your league and apparently, that was what he thought as well because he decided to not show up to the restaurant he had asked you to go to.

Taking a deep breath to try and keep tears from rolling down your face until you were at least in your car, you reached for your phone one last time to immediately block his number. You didn’t even need to look up to know the waitresses would be looking at you with looks of pity so you decided it would be best to keep your head down while you put on your coat.

Your plan failed however when you heard a person clearing their throat right in front of you. You were so caught up in the surprise of someone talking to you that you didn’t completely catch what they’d asked you.

Answering what you thought was their question you said “Yeah I’ll probably die alone.”

After that, you were more annoyed than anything. Why would somebody even ask you that question? Could they not see you weren’t in the mood for this.

A loud laugh interrupted you as you were trying to find your wallet to leave this place as soon as you possibly could. You looked up at the stranger with the most deadpan look you’d ever given someone in your life. It took a minute for the man in front of you to stop laughing long enough to give you an explanation of what was happening all the while the whole restaurant was now watching your interaction.

“I’m sorry for laughing at you, it was just funny.” The man said while still laughing.

“I asked if you were dining alone.”

This was it. The one thing that could make your night even worse, embarrassing yourself in front of a whole entire restaurant. The only thing you could do was let out a pathetic “Oh” at your own stupidity.

You could feel tears starting to form in the corner of your eyes and as soon as the stranger in front of you noticed, his laughter stopped.

“Hey it’s alright, please don’t cry.” But it was too late. You couldn’t hear what he was saying because your head was spinning. You barely even noticed him leading you outside to a less populated place.

Once you were sitting on a bench across the street, you couldn’t keep your tears in any longer. They came crashing down like waterfalls and at this point, you didn’t care who could see you. Letting out all of your feelings was the only thing that was going to make you feel better.

You didn’t know how long you sat there, just crying into your hands while the guy from the restaurant patted your back comfortingly. It felt nice, even if you felt like shit otherwise.

After a while, your sobs turned into quiet sniffles and you regained the ability to think. It was then you turned to the guy to apologize for your behavior. Looking up, you met his worried gaze and it almost made you burst into tears again. The nicest interaction you’d had with a male in a month was when you were hysterically crying on a park bench.

You took another moment to calm yourself down completely before you tried to speak. The stranger was still trying his best to make you stop crying and you really appreciated the effort he was putting in.

“I’m so sorry you had to see that.” was what you offered after your cheeks had completely dried up and you cringed at how hoarse your voice sounded.

“It’s okay, I’m more sorry for making you cry.”

You felt really bad. He thought he had made you cry when that wasn’t the case at all and on top of that he got stuck trying to comfort you when he most certainly had better things to do with his evening.

“You didn’t make me cry, don’t worry.”

He didn’t answer you. Instead he looked at you in disbelieve causing you to give him the most reassuring smile you could come up with.

“Well, do you want to talk about it then?”

It was said in the softest voice, like he was scared you were going to start crying again. For all he knew, you could. But you told him anyway. About all of your bad dates and how embarrassed you felt when everyone in the restaurant was looking at you while you just wanted the ground to swallow you up. He listened very well, only interrupting to wipe away any fresh tears trying to escape your eyes.

Having someone there was nice. Even if he was just a random guy who would’ve forgotten all about you by tomorrow.

“I just wish someone would care enough to take me on a nice date for once.”

This caused the guy next to you to tense up. You could tell he was trying to figure out how to respond to your statement. You felt his eyes on you but were all of a sudden too shy to look up at him.

A soft “Hey” accompanied with a hand on your cheek made you turn to face him. His eyes were full of compassion and care. you were still half sitting in his lap and the moment suddenly felt a little too much. You moved back to put some distance between yourself and the man whose name you did not know. He looked a little hurt but didn’t comment on your movement.

The silence didn’t last long as the guy abruptly stood up. He was wearing a wide smile but his eyes were still as kind as they had been the whole night.

“Let me take you somewhere.”

“No.”

Your answer came almost immediately but you wished you had thought about it a little longer when you saw his smile fade slightly.

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to pretend like you want to spend time with me to make me feel better. I’ll get over it.”

“But I do want to spend time with you.” His answer came even quicker than the one you had given him. “I’m not here to pity you, I promise.”

His face showed a hopeful expression and you didn’t want to be the reason it disappeared again. After all he’d done for you today, you felt like you should agree to do this for him if that was really what he wanted.

And so after having asked his name, you were on your way. Most of the walk was spend in silence while Tyson, as you now knew his name was, tried to figure out where to take you.

“Okay close your eyes.”

“What, why?”

“Because I don’t want you to know where we’re going and we’ve almost arrived at our destination.”

You looked at him for a few seconds trying to figure out his age. He seemed to be in his early twenties but he still had that childlike wonder that made you doubt that. When you didn’t close your eyes, instead just choosing to stand there, it was his turn to look at you. He rolled his eyes after you raised your eyebrow at him in a challenging way and turned you around by pushing your shoulders.

Just as you were about to ask what he was doing, he placed his hands over your eyes. You let out a surprised huff at that but ultimately went along with it.

Despite only having known Tyson for maybe an hour, you trusted him. His hands on your face were giving you warmth that the Denver night couldn’t give you. It was sort of relaxing. Blindly walking through the city making you feel like you had no responsibilities or worries.

“Ta-da.”

It took some time for your eyes to get used to the lighting again and when they did you felt your heart drop a little. Tyson had taken you to McDonald's. You didn’t have anything against the place but after your conversation earlier, you had expected a little more.

“McDonald's?”

“Don’t sound so disappointed. Come on, let’s go sit down.”

You were quickly learning that Tyson liked to act like an excited puppy all the time and it really showed as he was basically skipping to a table in the back of the restaurant. While you did really enjoy that about Tyson, it also made you more aware of your own bad mood.

It took you a little longer to reach the table he had picked out and your face showed how unsure you were being there.

“Why are you pouting? We’re on an amazing date.”

“Going to McDonald's is hardly a date Tys.” You replied while rolling your eyes.

“Sure it is, what’s better than milkshakes?”

You had to applaud him on his enthusiasm. As much as you were giving him a hard time, Tyson didn’t let it affect him at all. Looking at him smiling to himself while browsing the menu made the corners of your own mouth subconsciously turn upwards.

It was then that you decided to just forget about what had happened earlier in the evening. You were sitting here now and you owed it to Tyson to at least try and have fun. Even if he didn’t consider this a date and was just sitting here to keep you company, he still offered up his night for you and you really appreciated him for it.

“So what are you suggesting?”

Tyson looked at you over the top of the menu card, his eyes once again showing you everything you needed to know. He was very easy to read and you wished you could be a little more like him. It seemed like he didn’t have a care in the world.

After ordering three different milkshakes, because apparently ‘they taste the best when you mix all of the flavors together’, you and Tyson fell into some easy conversation. Tyson tried to keep the topics light to make sure you were comfortable at all times.

At the beginning of the night, and even an hour ago, you’d never thought you’d be sitting in a fast food restaurant having the most fun you’d had in months all thanks to the boy sitting in front of you. He was currently entertaining himself by throwing pieces of his napkin at your face but you couldn’t even be mad at him.

You eventually leave MacDonald's with a booth full of torn up napkins and a smile on your face, not even noticing the near freezing temperatures because Tyson was making you feel so warm inside. The thought of arriving at your apartment which looked so appealing earlier, now filled you with a sense of disappointment.

Would Tyson want to see you again? Or was this just a one time thing?

This was the first time during the whole night you had no idea what he was thinking. His eyes were on the ground and silence overtook you. You felt awkward again as you walked the short distance home.

“I hope you at least had a little bit of fun.”

You could feel the nervousness coming off of him and wanted nothing more than to hug him.

“I did yeah.” You answered with a smile. “More than I thought I would have at MacDonald's.”

Tyson rolled his eyes at you playfully before answering.

“It’s not about the location though, it’s about the company. You really think you would have had as much fun sitting in that expensive restaurant with whatever his name was? Money does not compensate a shit personality.”

His expression was playful but his words were serious and it took you by surprise. You hadn’t expected Tyson to call you out like that. Maybe it was good he did. He was definitely right.

“Yeah you’re right, he has nothing on you.”

“So does that mean you’re open to a real date in the future? I promise I’ll do better than MacDonald’s.”

“Tys, you could take me to an outdoor food truck festival in the pouring rain and I’d still think it was the best date ever.”

The happiness that overtook his features was unlike anything you’d ever seen. Even though moonlight was shining down on you, you felt like you were looking at the sun.

“Okay.” He began but paused a moment later. You’d caught him of guard with what you’d said.

“Okay, I’ll call you then. I wanted to kiss you but I feel like I should wait for a better time.”

He gave you a hug and then he was off. And while he didn’t leave you with a kiss, he did leave you with his phone number and a plan to meet up again, and that was good enough for now.

#Tyson #Things I write #Tyson Jost #nhl imagine #Tyson jost x reader #colorado avalanche imagine

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marveloussupernerd · 3 years

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champagne problems - Yoosung

Back to my evermore inspired series :) hope y’all like angst

Warnings: angst, mentions of mental illness, stressful situation, rejection, language

Summary: Yoosung had everything prepared for the perfect night to propose to you. But he wasn’t prepared for you to say no

Yoosung had really gone above and beyond for your birthday. He had planned a large party with his family and the RFA in one of Jumin’s large summer homes. He invited your family but they were too far away to attend. They did wish you happy birthday though!

Everyone came other than your family. All the RFA members, even V. Yoosung’s mother and father and sister. The party got started relatively quickly. Yoosung’s sister splashed open a bottle of champagne for you all to make a birthday toast, Zen pulled Yoosung’s mother to the dance floor, you were in awe by it all.

“Yoosung, this is so sweet!” You held onto his arm and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you. This is great.”

“I’m happy you like it,” he smiled. “I know you aren’t big on giant parties or anything, so I tried to keep it smaller... I hope this is okay?”

“It’s perfect.”

“Will you dance with me?” He asked eagerly. You took his hand and let him lead you to the dance floor. You danced for a couple of songs until your heels started to hurt your feet; then you led him back to sit down on one of the plush couches in the room.

“My feet are killing me,” you complained, taking off a heel to make sure you didn’t have any blisters.

He chuckled. “I told you you don’t have to wear heels! It’s not like I’m tall or anything.”

“I know. I just like them. Sorry I had to take a break,” you apologized.

“Nah,” He grabbed hold of your hand, turning to smile to you. “This is fun too.”

“You’re so great.” You flushed. He was. This was all so perfect. “I really don’t deserve you Yoosung.”

And you didn’t. He could do all of this for you. Set everything up perfectly. Got your favorite flavor cake. Got all your closest friends together in a way that wasn’t overwhelming. Every song that played was a song that you liked. He thought every single thing through.

“Of course you deserve me,” he rolled his eyes playfully. “You make me so so happy.”

“But this? For your birthday we ordered pizza and stayed in playing LOLOL.” You had thought it was a good idea at the time. But in comparison, wow, your birthday party for him was awful.

He squeezed your hand. “And I thought that was great. Hey, you wanna do cake now?”

“Of course I wanna do cake, you kidding?”

He had gotten you a fancy looking two-tiered cake. It was absolutely stunning. He even had candles for each year placed on top, perfectly spaced out. When Yoosung committed to something, he made sure it was perfect.

You hated when people sang happy birthday to you. It was so awkward. What would you wish for? For things to stay exactly like this. For things not fo change. This, right here, was perfect.

The thinking helped you ignore the song. You blew out the candles in one try (since they were all concentrated so close together) and the room cheered. Yoosung cut your piece of cake first. It was good luck.

The cake was as delicious as it looked. It was so perfect. Everything about tonight was so perfect. The light chatter as everyone talked about the cake. The lighthearted questions Yoosung’s mom asked, like if you had the next party date picked out and if Yoosung still stayed up all night playing games.

Yoosung quickly steered off that topic with present time.

Zen had gotten you a spa day. The two of you went the other day and got mani/pedis and facials. Jumin had gotten you a new fancy dress for the RFA parties. He gave it to you early so you could wear it tonight though!

Jaehee got a pair of noise-cancelling headphones, for when Yoosung was too loud playing and was distracting you from your work. Yoosung’s sister got you a bottle of wine. His parents got you a scrapbook filled with your memories together. It was adorable. V got a gift card, Classic V. Seven got you a new modded laptop. You weren’t sure what it did, but eh, you’d figure it out later.

“Thank you all so much,” you said cheerfully, gathering up the wrapping and tissue paper to throw away.

“Wait! Uh, I have a gift for you too,” Yoosung announced. His voice started off loud but became more timid.

You smiled, moving over to him to cup his cheek with your hand. “You didn’t have to get me anything. This party was everything I could have wanted today.”

“No, please.” He covered your hand with his, taking it off his cheek and holding it tight. “You are so amazing. From the moment I met you... yes, even over text, I knew you were special. You remembered the little things I talked about, sympathized with me when things got hard, and showed me how to be brave and responsible. And that’s before we even started dating!”

You giggled. He wasn’t wrong.

You didn’t expect him to continue speaking. “And since we’ve been dating, my grades have gotten better, I feel like I know what I’m doing with my life and I’m confident in it. You make me feel confident in myself. And proud. And when I’m not feeling good about myself, you’re there for me.”

Why was the room silent?

Your heart was pounding in your ears.

“And I want you to keep being there for me. Forever and ever more.” He... got down on one knee? He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring? Was this really happening? “Will you marry me?”

It was.

You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t hear anything but ringing in your ears. Time seemed to stop. What would you say? You had wished for things to stay the same; this was the exact opposite of your wish.

You dropped his hand. And ran up the nearest flight of stairs. Through the hall. Turn to another hall. Pick a random door on the right. Lock yourself in there. A bathroom. You couldn’t breathe.

But now you could hear. At least, you thought you could. It was hard to tell; everything was silent except for the humming of the bathroom fan.

You weren’t sure how long downstairs was in silence. How long you stood in the bathroom, staring at your reflection, asking yourself for an answer. Why had you run away? You were happy with him. Why didn’t you say yes?

His whole family was there. His sister was splashing champagne. Your friends were there. He wanted to share the happy moment with everyone. He wanted you to say yes, get so excited you couldn’t help but pull him into a kiss in front of all your friends. He wanted them to applaud. He wanted his sister to ask you if she could be a bridesmaid way too early. That was his mom’s ring. You knew them well enough to catch that. She had given him her ring. She had known it was going to happen.

Why hadn’t he ever asked you about marriage beforehand?

You couldn’t blame him. It was all your fault.

You were stupid. Why wouldn’t you marry him? You loved him. You had no reason.

Were you that broken that you couldn’t even accept this? Were you unwedable? Did you think somebody would make him happier? You had said earlier that night you didn’t deserve him.

How would you leave? Would you break up? Would you be kicked out of the RFA?

Your choices were to either jump out of the second-story bathroom window and try and direct an Uber to this place without getting caught, or face them downstairs.

The first almost sounded better.

Technically you could hide here. There were plenty of rooms.

He had planned everything so well. He had never planned if you would say no.

You sucked it up. You had to do something. You had to apologize. Had to explain yourself. Had to try and mend the pieces of broken glass that had been Yoosung’s heart. Being gone probably was making it worse. You left the bathroom and walked through the halls that you had earlier ran through, approaching the stairs.

“I’m sorry.” It was V’s voice.

“No, I’m sorry. I’ve embarrassed myself... and her... and I don’t even want to think about the secondhand embarrassment you’re all going through. I just, thought I had it all planned out.” Yoosung’s voice was nasaly. That’s how you could tell he was going to cry.

“Oh Yoosung.” His mother. You forced yourself not to get upset and cry.

You shouldn’t be eavesdropping.

“You can come home and stay with us for a while. It’ll get better.”

“Maybe she wasn’t ready! Did you ever talk about it beforehand? She’s probably just overwhelmed,” his sister said, trying to keep some optimism in her voice.

“I don’t know... I thought we were ready. We live together. We spend almost every waking second together.”

He was right.

“What are you gonna do?” Zen asked. His voice was hushed.

Yoosung sniffled. “What can I do? It’s clear she doesn’t want to be with me.”

Your heart was cracking, beginning to splinter.

“Well. She would have made a lovely bride. It’s a shame she’s fucked in the head,” Jumin commented, his voice as even as usual. “There’s nothing you can do about it though. Someday you’ll find the real thing. And it’ll be worth it all in the end.”

Your heart broke.

Not just for Yoosung. But to hear your friends speak of you that way.

How would you leave this house?

The room fell silent.

“I’m going to go talk to her,” Yoosung whispered.

Shit. What do you do? Where do you go? Maybe you should have jumped out the window after all. You treaded to the first room you came across. He’d find you regardless.

“It’s okay,” his mother comforted. “We’ll go if you want. Feel free to come home anytime.”

The front door opened, then shut after a moment.

Footsteps made their way up the stairs.

You were crying.

He knocked on the doorway. You hadn’t bothered to close the door.

You turned to face him. His eyes were red. His nose was running. It seemed like he had done a good job not crying in front of them, but you could tell he could break at any moment.

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, tears falling down your cheeks quickly. You wanted to hug him. You couldn’t.

His own tears began to fall. He walked closer to you, then took a seat on the bed. His tears fell. He sobbed. You couldn’t hold him. You had always held him when he cried. He had always done the same for you. Now you were both a few feet away, crying, unable to comfort one another.

“I don’t even have a reason,” you cried. You sucked in a big breath of air. You could feel yourself near-hyperventilating. “I’m just an awful person. I’m just not ready for that. I don’t know.”

He shook his head vigorously. “I should have seen the signs, wherever they may have been.”

“I don’t know if there were any...”

His hand reached out and grabbed your arm, not a tight grip by any means, but one firm enough to make sure you knew he was there. “No!” His voice rose shakily, tears still evident in his voice. “I know you best. I should have found the signs. This is my fault.”

“It’s not. It’s mine. You did everything right, Yoosung.”

You both were quiet, aside from the sniffles.

“What are we gonna do?” You asked quietly. Were you even allowed to use that word anymore: we? After everything you had put him through?

He sighed. “You can take the car home. I’ll take the train and find somewhere else to stay for the night.”

You wanted to sob out no. That you needed him, especially right now. You had no right to. Your body wouldn’t even let you say it.

“We can talk about it another time... I just, need to sit on this for a while.” He explained. He fished around in his pocket, taking out the car keys and setting them on the bed next to you. Then he stood. “I’m gonna go...”

You couldn’t speak. You could only sniffle and look up at him, fresh tears still forming.

“Listen, don’t drive until you calm down. And... I know everything is fucked up but text me when you’re home. Please.” His eyes were watery, glistening, begging you.

You still couldn’t speak. You nodded.

He left.

#mystic messenger #mysme #evermore #Yoosung kim #// y’all don’t play pls ask for a happy pt2

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neowinestainedress · 4 years

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↬ title: the devil’s in the details, but you got a friend in me ↬ pairing: lee taeyong / kim doyoung ↬ summary: when Taeyong's world falls apart right before his eyes, he realizes that staying with him means that clouds will always hang around them. And he wonders if what he has to offer will be enough to make Doyoung stay, even if he will never be able to give him peace. ↬ genre: idol!taeyong (but not nct!taeyong, soloist!taeyong), song inspired - peace by taylor swift, angst (not really, doesn’t concern the couple, tho), hurt/comfort, still romantic/fluff, happy ending ↬ warnings: since is peace inspired there are references to a situation similar to the one taylor had to go through in 2016 and the aftermath of it, so taeyong is in a bad state of mind (mention of suicidal thoughts), homophobia (one explicit comment, but there are references to it during the whole story), implied sexual content at the end (nothing explicit) ↬ words count: 6.8k ↬ playlist ↬ ao3 link

Taeyong knew it, he knew everything since he was young and naive, too busy dreaming of filled stadiums and tears marked faces screaming his name. Taeyong always knew how fucked up the music industry was, how unfair, how fake and cynical it was. But Taeyong had always been a dreamer, a believer, and after all, he still was, even now. A grin made its way on his beautiful face, as he wiped a lonely tear on his rosy cheek away. Yes, he still believed in a miracle, he really hoped that the art he had been gifting to the world for all these years was enough for people to not stop supporting him. He really wished that all of his countless sleepless nights awake writing songs on his kitchen counter while his other half was sleeping in their bedroom were worth something. He wanted to think that the immense love he had been giving to his fans travelling around the world to perform with just four hours of sleep was appreciated. But deep down he knew that now everything was gone. His world crumbled apart into million pieces, and his love, his passion, his dedication, his art, weren’t enough to save it. He sighed, letting his head fall on the back of the chair in his home studio, he wanted to cry, scream maybe, destroy everything that was in that room, but he decided that it simply wasn’t worth it. Or simply that small sparkle of hope that was still burning inside of him stopped him from doing so. Except he knew what was about to come. “Tomorrow at 8, be careful nobody sees you entering the company, they’re not happy. We have to talk about the contract.” The manager's words were direct, strict and cold even through a text message. Lee Taeyong, the record-breaking artist from South Korea, with his incredible all-round personality full of charms and talents, was over, and there was nothing he could do to change that. When people fall out of love with you, there’s nothing you can do to change their mind. They simply don’t love you anymore.

✯✯✯

It wasn’t the first time Taeyong had to go through something like that. He had always been extremely controversial during his seven years career, whether it was for something he had seriously done or some crazy fake rumour spread around. People are fast at judging others without looking at the mirror even once, and he had experienced that on his skin more than once. He had to say sorry for things he had never done. He had to stay silent in front of the tremendous words people would throw at him, his agents never taking his side, even when they knew the truth, and some of his fans turning around on their backs.

Was he still famous? Did he still break records? Skyrocketed on the charts at every comeback? Yes, definitely. Probably somebody could say that after all these years he still had the world in the palm of his hands, but, honestly, he felt like he had nobody he could count on. All the people who used him just for clout, just to talk shit about him once they arrived where they wanted. All of the people who liked to call themselves tyongfs but never stayed when he needed them the most. His real friends all left the country, for different reasons, and the ones in the industry he felt to call like that, could be counted on one single hand. So when he met Doyoung and the other wasn’t totally disgusted by him or tried to work his way to the top, Taeyong was seriously surprised. A bittersweet forced laugh escaped from his lips as he put his coat on, and tried to take deep breaths in the mirror, trying to prepare himself to see the end of his career. He had been through so much shit since he was barely eighteen, but nothing ever hurt him more than seeing his dream disappear from his hands simply because he loved somebody, the only one who ever stood by his side. Nothing could ever come close to the pain that he was feeling at the moment, thinking that he had to choose between the people he loved the most, Doyoung and tyongfs. A choice that he never wanted to make, because his love and his heart were enough for them both. A choice that he wasn’t making, because apparently his fans, Korean netizens, and his agency decided that it wasn’t right, that something was twisted in him, and they simply couldn’t support somebody like him anymore. Taeyong had stopped being the perfect straight boy next door, and somebody decided for him that it was time to take him and throw him in the trash. And Taeyong had come close to that many times, but never like this, never he had seen such harsh words addressed at him, never he had felt so much hate and disgust. He knew that now, they were deleting him, acting as if he never existed.

✯✯✯

Doyoung had no idea what to do. It had been a week now since their kissing photo got spread around, one week since the internet exploded, seven days since he had to thank God he worked in his own place or else he would’ve been fired too. It had been five days since Taeyong’s company kicked him out, giving him no chance to fight for his art and his job, it had been five days since Taeyong got home and wandered around like a ghost, his favourite blanket over his head, his feet lazily dragging themselves on the cold floor, and drinking cups over cups of coffee in front of their big window which faced the whole city.

“Sitting there all day won’t change things.” The younger said, slowly making his way behind his boyfriend. He had kept quiet the whole week, not wanting to make him feel worse, and also because he didn’t want to let out his real emotions. Doyoung felt incredibly guilty. As soon as the news came out he already knew the ending, and all he could think was that maybe if they had been more careful, or simply if they had never met, if they had never fallen in love and started dating, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. And he felt that it was his fault because he was the one who couldn’t let Taeyong go, the one who had to persist and convince him that he deserved love, and he would’ve stayed with him till the end, no matter his reputation or the things Taeyong couldn’t give him.

Doyoung sighed when his boyfriend didn’t answer, he sat next to him on the large windowsill, his body facing Taeyong’s even though the other was turned toward Seoul at their feet.

Taeyong let out a barely audible huff, placed the hot cup in the cavity the blanket formed between his legs, and then turned around to face the older. His head was still resting on the wall at his side, and for a while, they simply stared at each other without saying a word. Somehow, that was enough. A silence that only two souls that knew each other that deeply could donate. An unspoken secret language they had taught each other through the years. They were like that, they never needed to say much out loud, it was a particular type of chemistry that flooded between them.

“I’m sorry,” Taeyong mumbled, breaking the eyes contact, too fearful and coward to look at him in the eyes. Doyoung furrowed his brow, his hand moving to grab his chin and lift his head up.

“For what?”

Taeyong sighed, he blinked repeatedly, trying to clear his eyes from the foggy views the tears he beforehand shed gave him. “For all the shit that I put you through, not only now, but since we know each other.”

Doyoung bit his lower lip and then moved closer to his boyfriend, his hands cupped his pretty face, and a smile crept on his own as he stared at the boy in front of him. No matter how tired and broken he was, to him, he was still the most beautiful man on the hearth.

“Don’t say sorry,” he whispered, moving the wild strands of his hair who fell messily on his eyes. “I’ll do it all over again for you, Tae. I knew what was coming when I started dating you, and I choose to stay. I’ve always been by your side, knowing that dating you meant waking up with nobody on the other side of the bed for months, and trusting you while you were on the other side of the world. I’ve chosen to stay, knowing that dating you meant going on the internet and read terrible things about your persona that weren’t true. I stayed, in your worst times, when everybody decided to stab you from behind and leave you bleeding. No, I fell for you there, when you were in pieces. I could’ve escaped, walk away like anybody else, take the distances from you, even foment people against you. But I didn’t.” Taeyong was trying to hold back his tears for the nth time of the day, or better, of the week. They loved each other, he was sure about that, but their love language wasn’t a spoken one. For most people it also appeared odd, their close friends and family sometimes still couldn’t believe that they were dating for three years now. Their dynamics appeared strange to many eyes, or at least considered the few people who knew about them. But they worked, better than with anyone else. Still, with all the love they had for each other, hearing things like this wasn’t something Taeyong was used to. He knew that Doyoung wouldn’t hesitate a second to jump off a cliff if it meant saving him, but hearing what he felt out loud made his heart skip a beat and flip in his chest.

“And you know why?” Doyoung asked as his thumb gently wiped away his rolling teardrops. “And you want to know why I would do it all over again?” His voice started to shake a little bit, Doyoung wasn’t an emotional type, not that he was distant, simply the occasion where he would let himself go in front of the others were rare. But now, with a completely shattered Taeyong standing in front of him, it was just impossible. He had seen Taeyong at his worst, when society wanted him dead, and decided to turn around for the first time, and honestly, he had thought that he would’ve never had to see that again. But he was so wrong because now Taeyong wasn’t even half as broken as he was back then, the oldest didn’t let out much in those days, but Doyoung could only imagine all the things that were running in his pretty little mind. And they weren’t positive. “Because you are a ravishing sweeping fire, the most enchanting one, you have no idea how many times I feared of getting burned by you, but I stayed anyway and learnt that your flames don’t do nothing but keep me warm and safe.”

Doyoung stopped for a second, taking his time and giving his boyfriend the time to absorb what he was telling him. “Remember what you once told me, the day you texted me we were over because you were terrified your life couldn’t fit mine, and how you didn’t want to hurt me?” Taeyong nodded, he remembered that day clearly. They had been dating for five months at the time, the worst rumours about him had just started to slow down, so he felt a little bit safer to go around Seoul when he had a break. All it took to ruin his day and destroy the pieces he had tried so hard to put back together was a rude comment yelled at him “What’s next? It'll come out that you’re gay?” And as he froze at the harsh words, looked at the ground and kept walking, his first thought flew at Doyoung. He couldn’t do that, he couldn’t put him in that situation. He didn’t think twice when he told him that things were over between them as soon as he arrived home. But honestly, he wasn’t expecting Doyoung banging at his door, screaming that he couldn’t care less what people thought about him, or them, trying to make him understand that they would’ve got this kind of remarks anyway, trying to reassure him that as long as nobody knew they would’ve been fine.

“Rain will always come if you’re standing with me,” Taeyong whispered, reminiscing the words he had told him through the tears that night. Doyoung nodded, softly smiling at him, and then kept talking.

“We got drenched with rain, we’ve been in the middle of storms, and look at us.” He smiled, holding his arms out in the air to point at them. “Our love was enough to keep us warm. Your beautiful, sparkling, mesmerizing flame is more than enough to keep us alive, warm and safe.” Taeyong didn’t say a thing, his emotions were all over him, he simply couldn’t find the strength to say anything, not already at least. So he simply let himself crush against Doyoung’s welcoming body, his face sunk in the cavity of his neck as he let the sobs roll out free, they weren’t sad tears, more likely the result of pent up stress of the terrible week he had been trough and the fears for their future who simply seemed faithless and tenebrous.

They sat there for a while, the only sounds they could hear were their breathing and Taeyong muffled cries. The sun was sinking at the horizon, lighting Seoul’s skyscraper of golden, wishing the town a good night, even if the city wasn’t going to sleep at all. Maybe on another occasion, they would’ve cared about that. As Doyoung lazily scrolled through Instagram while the national news channel was playing in the background as he waited for Taeyong to come home after a long day of practice, and then together they would��ve chosen what take out to order, half of the time ending up with Doyoung having to do all by himself because Taeyong was too tired even to make a choice. Or maybe they would’ve hit up some of their closest friends and hang out with them, at their place, without having to worry about getting caught. Maybe in another situation, the radio was on, keeping Doyoung company as he cooked for them, while humming and jamming to the songs the radio was passing, and then he would’ve laughed at Taeyong flustered expression when one of his songs would play. But now, it was totally different. If they turned on the TV they would’ve seen themselves, pictures of their broken privacy splashed on the front page of every journal and gossip show. If Taeyong turned on his phone they would’ve heard the frustrating ringing of persistent notification, missed calls from his mom, and his friends, just wanting to make sure he was still alive. Calls that Doyoung had to take for him during the whole week.

“You know what? We’re cooking together tonight, you definitely need to eat more than just coffee and cheap snacks and I need to distract your mind from all of this.” Doyoung broke the quite they were in, carefully moving Taeyong away from him to look at his eyes. He tried to suppress a sad smile as soon as he made contact with them, Taeyong’s usually big brown warm eyes were now swollen and red, deprived of their typical bright light. He just wanted him to be happy because Taeyong never deserved any of the hurt people had put him through all these years. And the more he looked at his boyfriend the more he questioned when everything would go back to normal, if it ever will. But Doyoung needed things to at least be good again, he needed his happy, goofy, bright, loud and passionate Taeyong back. Because he deserved to be happy.

Taeyong just nodded, not like he had a choice anyway, but not that he minded. He felt the need to spend some time together with Doyoung, just them, in their home, acting like the world didn’t exist. It was just an illusion, but he couldn’t care. And he was also pretty used to pretend, in his world, everything was an illusion, it needed to be like this to survive. Or else, there wouldn’t have been any other way to stand all of those masquerade revellers and their fake smiles, and unnecessarily loud laugh to hide emptiness and sadness. And for a split second, Taeyong thought that maybe, taking a break from all of that wasn’t even that bad.

✯✯✯

“Are you eating?” His mom’s voice ringing from the other side of the phone was muffled, her tone as worried as three weeks before when the mess first happened. Taeyong giggled and rolled his eyes in the back of his head, it was like the third time she had to make sure about that since she called.

“Yes, mom, I’m good. Doyo is feeding me well.” And even though he couldn’t see it, he perceived the genuine smile creeping on his mom’s tired face. She was so glad his son had someone like Doyoung by his side, especially now that she couldn’t be physically near him.

“Still can’t come by?” The woman tried to ask anyway. Taeyong shook his head and hummed in negation.

“You know why.” Honestly, Taeyong would’ve never forgiven himself if something happened to his mother. She wanted to pass by their house since the news broke out, but Taeyong was fast at forbidding her from doing so. Three weeks now, and the situation was still out of control. He simply couldn’t leave the house, the building was surrounded by angry, so-called, fans. Sometimes they were just standing there, breaking the merch, but two times things got out of hand and some neighbour had to intervene. Not that things changed. It was disgusting and scary, to the point he was just expecting from some of them to break in and kill him while he was distracted. Also, Doyoung still had to go to work. Being the owner of his small business he could take a week off to stay with Taeyong and also made up his mind, but they needed his job. Yes, Taeyong’s money were still there, he made pretty much a fortune during his career, but they needed to stay grounded, to have something that somehow reminded them of their everyday reality. Plus, what was Taeyong going to do now? Find another agency? Start one of his own? Cry himself to sleep every night because at this point it felt much more than just music and he couldn’t handle it anymore? Now the latter seemed to be the only thing he could think of. So he just stayed home, waiting for Doyoung to call him every time he made it out and in the house safe. He spent the days with a lump in his throat because of the girls down the house and the terrible things he read on the internet. The only things distracting him, his mom and his friend’s calls.

At least two minutes passed by in silence, just a light buzzing from the line could be heard, but Taeyong felt some sort of tranquillity in his mom’s breathing. He closed his eyes and imagined to be wrapped in her arms, his head on her chest, as it moved up and down, and her voice chanting a sweet song. Just like when he was a child, and everything was easier, and nobody had ever hurt him.

“Yongie,” her mom called his attention. The boy hummed, loud enough that she could hear. “You know that I love you and I’m so proud of you and everything you’ve done in your life, right?” His mom had never been too happy about his choice in the career path. She knew he was talented, she never doubted his capability of filling stadiums and captivate people. She simply hated the industry, their brainwashing, the way they produced robots and not people with feelings. She was aware of what being a celebrity meant and she never wished that life for his son. But when someone you love has a dream, what do you do? Do you clip their wings or let them fly? She let him go, and never stopped, even for a second, to be proud of her little man.

“I know,” Taeyong smiled, a sincere smile after lots of forced ones, “you’re always my number one fan, right?”

“First and last, nobody might stand your annoying self anymore but I’m going to still be here.” She exclaimed, making his son laugh. But he knew it was true, even if everyone left, she was always going to be there.

He talked with his mom some more, but when the phone call ended he fell back into the hole that was devouring him. He sighed, nervously running his fingers through his hair, pulling his bleached blonde locks.

He wanted to pick up the phone and call Johnny, have a chat with him up until Doyoung would've come home. Talking with his best friend would’ve definitely helped him to not think about his life. But they had already talked in the morning when Johnny called to make sure that he was okay and proposed him to spend some time with him and Ten in England. He didn’t want to bother him, but at the same time, he didn’t feel in the mood to talk with any other of his friends.

So, pretty much unconsciously, he did the only thing he shouldn’t have done. He grabbed his phone and went on twitter. Socials were toxic, he knew that. He should’ve already deleted everything and don’t think about it, but somehow he always ended up there. He desperately needed to know what people thought about him, if one, even just one, of his fans stayed. And for some sort of strange reason, he felt like he also needed to know all the bad things. To make sure that it was real, that people really hated him. Or maybe because, by now, that words already crept into his brain and he felt like he was unlovable and unworthy and deserved to read what they had been calling him lately. And his heart took it, up until he saw a tweet against Doyoung, about how they didn’t even know him but to date somebody like him they had to be twice as bad. Or another one saying that Doyoung wasn’t even attractive and at least Taeyong could’ve had better taste if he really wanted to be like that. The more he scrolled on his name the worst things got. People saying that they had been waiting for this for ages, some others saying that Taeyong should’ve already been cancelled years ago when his first scandals broke out, or how he had probably fucked his way to the top. Thousands of tweets saying that they always hated him for his attitude, and they couldn’t stand seeing him feeling himself so much, and all of that was a lesson that he was finally paying. Laughs and jokes on how probably the strong, intimidating Lee Taeyong was now crying like a little bitch.

And they were right, because he was sobbing uncontrollably, curled up on himself as he laid on the couch, the phone abandoned on the floor after he slipped from his sweaty hands. He wanted to scream, and he did. An agonizing loud scream resonated through the walls as he tried to push out of his brain the painful and dark thoughts that were drawing him. He couldn’t take it, he couldn’t sleep at night knowing that he was dragging Doyoung in this hell with him when he deserved much better. But what was he supposed to do? Taeyong had already tried to break up with him, fully aware that their lifestyles were just too different. And Doyoung had spent a whole night up just listening to his nagging and crying, as he desperately tried to convince him that no matter how hard it was going to get, he wanted exactly what they had. But now everything was different. Back then Taeyong had snapped because of one single homophobic comment, they weren’t out, nobody knew about them. Now, everything was different. And he just had to make sure that Doyoung was strong enough to get through that. Because Taeyong wasn’t so sure that all that he could offer was enough for him to stay. And he also wasn’t so sure that he, himself, could make it out alive. He just couldn’t take it anymore. And he felt so fragile as perfectly known old thought came to his mind. It wasn’t the first time other people words made him believe that he simply wasn’t worth living. He disrupted the lives of all the people he loved, he was a tornado, not the nice little flame Doyoung loved to describe him as. But he didn’t want to be like this anymore, to hurt the good and trust the evil, even if unconsciously. Maybe it was a sign, that life didn’t suit him anymore. He was tired, he just wanted a normal life. He wanted to wake up in the morning and go to work, just to go back home to Doyoung preparing dinner. He wanted to spend lazy Sundays on the couch wrapped in Doyoung’s arms. He wanted to live somewhere where they could hold hand with a little less terror of being judged and beaten. He wanted to live, as a human being who made mistakes and not an automaton.

He wiped his tears with the back of Doyoung’ sweater he was currently wearing and got up from that spot in the living room. In less than twenty minutes Doyoung would’ve been home, and he didn’t want him to see him like that. He needed to distract himself, not let his mind travel in the wrong places, so maybe some music playing in the background as he cooked would’ve been helpful.

✯✯✯

The evening passed by quietly. Doyoung had come home safe, finding Taeyong busy at the cookers, humming and dancing to the rhythm of one of his favourite records. The younger didn’t see it coming and slightly jumped when Doyoung hugged him from behind, maybe, given the tense situation, that wasn’t the best idea Doyoung had ever had, but Taeyong couldn’t mind. He just wanted to feel him close, to make sure that he was there for real, and he wasn’t just one of the many mindless dreams he had. Taeyong had to make sure that Doyoung was his, he had to remind himself that he deserved the happiness he could bring him. And Doyoung felt that something was somehow wrong when Taeyong kissed him a little bit longer than the usual and then didn’t pull away but let his head rest on his shoulder. He didn’t say a word, tough, other than pointing that what was for dinner looked delicious.

Seoul's sky was particularly pretty that evening, coloured with soft shades of pink and purple, painting their living room with the same tones. And that dinner passed as one of their old romantic indoor dates, far away from the world, and strangely, for the first time after many, the exhausting sense of suffocation wasn’t there. Maybe Taeyong still felt it, but not as much as that afternoon, when he was all by himself.

Taeyong really didn’t want to ruin that perfect mood. The apparent calm they were surrounded with as they laid on their sofa, carelessly paying attention to the movie they had chosen to watch. They were more lost in each other's touch, Taeyong let himself relax as Doyoung spooned him, their hands intertwined, because they wanted and also because Taeyong had started to nervously bit his nails once again. In the years Doyoung learnt that telling him was useless, he would panic, his cheeks flushed, and then go back doing it once again. So the most efficient method was to grab his hands, play with them, hold them, caress them, anything that could divert Taeyong’s attention and also his nervousness. Not only he would stop bite them, but it would help his sense of anxiety, and Doyoung got to feel him closer, so everybody won with that.

But they needed to talk. This was a point of no return, and Taeyong had to know if they wanted to travel the same road together forever or not. They needed to start over. Their coming of age had come, they couldn’t just sit around and ignore the problems. Taeyong had never been firm on his choices, always walking on eggshells, with fear of crashing because the danger was near. But now, after all of these years in the industry, he had realized that he simply couldn’t get away from it. It was always around the corner, ready to attack, it lived in him. And he had to remind Doyoung that. He had to let him know all the feelings he had for him, and then let the decision in his hands.

“I could never give you peace,” the blond mumbled, his words barely more than a whisper. Doyoung furrowed his eyebrows, he had heard what his boyfriend had said, but he couldn’t understand his point.

“What do you mean?” he asked, moving a little so he could have a better look at the older’s face.

Taeyong took a deep breath while his eyes were focused on their fingers playing together. “With my life, with who I am. And then your life, and who you are.” Doyoung wanted to roll his eyes to the sky, thinking he was going to witness Taeyong trying to break them apart once again, but something in the tranquillity of the other’s voice told him that this conversation wasn’t going there.

“Sometimes I look at you, and just don’t feel enough. Not enough to cope for all the things that you had to stop doing for me, or the fears that I planted in your heart, or even the way I make your future so uncertain. I look at you and I see integrity, and it makes me feel small.”

Doyoung stayed silent, as much as he loved Taeyong, he couldn’t deny that he was right. Their lives were totally different and pretending it wasn’t true would've been. And yes, sometimes it was hard to keep it up with Taeyong’s busy rhythm, sometimes things got bigger than what he could handle. But Doyoung knew that. Taeyong had made it clear since the start, and he knew by himself that dating a celebrity like him would’ve brought along a lot of hard times. Still, he could totally get why Taeyong always felt like a burden; he was insecure, he always believed that he wasn’t deserving of love, especially a sincere one that lead to a healthy relationship.

“You think that I regret all these years together?” Doyoung asked when nothing else came out of Taeyong’s mouth.

The other shook his head. “I don’t know, but I want you to know that I’m fully aware of how hard it has been for you too. And I’m glad for all the things you’ve done for me.”

Doyoung smiled, then one of his hand travelled up to caress his hair. Yes, he knew Taeyong knew that. Taeyong had seen the most fragile and vulnerable sides of him, he had seen him fall apart in front of him so many times that sometimes he wondered why he never left. To strangers’ eyes, Doyoung was strong, always in control of everything, it looked like he always had his shit together, but it wasn’t like that at all. And Taeyong was the only one who ever seen him like that, the only one he had ever opened up to in such a real way. The times he cried because he was terrified of not being able to do well in his new business. The older wanted to spend more time next to him, but the worldwide tours didn’t give him the chance to be present in the way he really wanted. Or when jealousy and insecurity mixed up together, and Doyoung cried at night thinking that Taeyong could find somebody better than him every day; and some nights the blonde was there to roll around, hug him and love the insecurities away, but many others he wasn’t.

“I’m sorry if I couldn’t always be there for you, but God, Doyoung,” he exhaled, squeezing his eyes to hold back the tears that were threatening to roll down his cheeks, “everybody thinks love’s for sure, but I would die for you in secret, any day, without thinking twice.”

Doyoung’s heart skipped a beat, his head fell on top of his boyfriend’s shoulder as he held him tighter.

“You know, right?” Taeyong asked, lifting his body to sit up with his back and look at Doyoung in the eyes. And in a fragment, he could see all of his vulnerability. Taeyong had always thought that Doyoung was like glass. Beautiful, transparent, resistant, but so, so fragile, that one single needle could tear him into pieces. And he had seen him shattered many times. He just wanted to make sure that he knew he could always count on him, since most of the times it was always Doyoung worrying about everybody else, without taking care of himself.

The younger hummed, following his actions.

“You know that I’d swing with you for the fences, sit with you in the trenches. Give you my wild,” Taeyong stopped for a second, his hand moved to grab Doyoung’s one, and his head rolled back as he tried to hold back the tears, and then let out a giggle “I’d even give you a child if it was possible.”

Doyoung chuckled and smacked him playfully on the arm.

“You know what I feel for you, the way I never felt so at ease with anybody else. You know how deep under my skin you got, how deeply you know every single inch of my soul. You know how much I cherish the way we don’t need words to understand each other, a glance is enough, silence is enough. I see your family as mine, your brother is my brother, and I couldn’t ask for anything better than that.” His tone was sincere, not that Doyoung ever doubted that, but something in his voice and in the way he was looking at him, made him feel a certain kind of way. And in that moment realization hit him like a truck, what they had was just above everything and everyone else, a rare gem only them could understand. And he was so grateful that fate, God, his ancestors, or whoever people wanted to believe held the strings of life, let them together.

“I’d give you my sunshine, give you my best,” Taeyong said, now intertwining their fingers, and holding tighter.

“Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?” a tingle of fragility in his voice. He was scared, no, terrified, Doyoung would say no and run away from him without thinking twice and looking back. He was so scared that Doyoung would've slipped out of his fingers that he unconsciously held even more than before.

Doyoung didn’t answer, he threw himself in the other’s arms and kissed him, slowly at first, just to become more passionate. His hands running through his locks, pulling him closer.

“Yes, Taeyong. It will be enough. You are enough. You will always be enough.” He mumbled once he pulled away, tears marking both of their faces.

“I don’t regret one bit of what I had with you, I could never, Yongie,” he said, his hands still cupping the other’s face. “I want this, I want you, and all the mess you bring with you. I love you. I’m dating you, not them, and their poisoned words. I’m in this with you. Not with anybody else. I don’t care about what they say to you, they don’t even know a quarter of the amazing person that you are. I don’t care about what they say about me, their words don’t define me. Their hate doesn’t define our love and its validity.”

This time is was Taeyong’s turn to stay silent and just lean in to make their lips touch again.

And in the dawn of the night, they stayed like that for a while. Forehead to forehead as Seoul was busy outside; with her cars moving between traffic lights and her people getting drunk in downtown bars. They could feel the city’s vibration, but they couldn’t care much about the others. It was just them, lost in their own moment.

Taeyong leaned in to kiss him again, and again. He needed Doyoung like he was his vital lymph. And he couldn’t care if he looked desperate, greedy and messy like a teenage boy during his first love story. He just wanted to feel. To feel alive, to feel real, to feel love. He couldn’t quite remember the last time they made love to each other. The last months had been a hell for so many different reasons, always busy, life moving so fast that the only time they had together he was either too tired or a quick thing was all they could get at.

But now, the world had stopped. His castle crumbled overnight. They took the crown from him. He wasn’t sitting on his throne anymore. He had nowhere else to be, now.

Now they had all the time they wanted to take things slow. To get lost in the smallest details of the other. Taeyong could kiss every small portion of Doyoung’ skin. He wanted to burn in his flames, feel the heat on his skin, and deep down in his soul.

And right now that Doyoung’s hands were on him, modelling him like a sculptor, touching him like nobody else ever could, he was sure of one thing. He had made mistakes in his life, never learning much from them, but at least he had done one thing right.

Now that Doyoung’s starry eyes looked at him as if he was the most precious jewel in the world, he understood that just that was enough to light up his darkest night. No, Taeyong didn’t know how to call that, it was just more than love at this point. Maybe they were soulmates. No, definitely they were, there was no other way they could be described as. And a smile crept on his face, as he let himself be lulled by the strange wave of happiness and safeness that hit him.

Doyoung noticed that, and, stopping for a second, he raised his head to level his. “Why are you so happy, uh?” He asked with a smirk on his face.

Taeyong shrugged. “Nothing, I was just thinking that I won at life.”

“You won?” Doyoung raised an eyebrow, his left arm was resting at the side of Taeyong's face supporting his weight so he wouldn’t fall on his naked boyfriend.

Taeyong hummed, his "dumb" smile never leaving his face. And Doyoung was so glad that the same old Taeyong seemed to be back, at least for now. He knew that the road to healing would’ve been long, but now, Taeyong had stars in his eyes, and that was the only thing he wanted to see.

“If I tell you that I think we’re soulmates in the middle of a lovemaking session will you run away?” Taeyong giggled as soon as he saw Doyoung roll his eyes.

“I can’t believe I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” Doyoung responded, but his hands were once again busy working on the other’s body, somehow pulling him even closer to his.

“You want to spend the rest of your life with me?” Taeyong asked with a genuinely surprised look on his face, which disappeared as soon as Doyoung’s hands touched places that made him see stars. His lips opening, letting out beautiful moans that Doyoung suppressed with a kiss.

“Isn’t that what soulmates do?” Doyoung asked him, leaving a trail of kisses over his neck, down to his collarbone, and all over his chest.

And Taeyong wanted to say something rational, a small part of him even cry for the joy he was feeling after so many time, but he was already putty in Doyoung’s fingers, overwhelmed by too many emotions. But once again, words were superfluous between them.

And as they became one in the night, burning in the heat of their love, they both had the confirmation that it would’ve been enough. Because at the end of the day, even if the devil’s in the details, they had a friend in each other.

And somehow, that was the only thing that mattered.

part two: where all the poets went to die

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