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#i always picture you with a suitcase in your hand
pitchsidestories · 1 day
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eras of us (1) II Ona Batlle x Reader
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masterlist I word count: 2981
a/n: inspired by this request, be warned it's a bit angsty but we promise it will have an happy ending in part 2. Your feedback is always appreciated.
2024
Barcelonas training had just ended and you were still breathing hard. Grabbing your water bottle, you already dreamed about taking a nice long shower and ordering some food. But you had not expected Alexia to appear in front of you, right before you wanted to leave the pitch.
Her arms were crossed in front of her chest: “Y/n, can we talk for a second?“
The seriousness in her face made you stall for a second, replaying every scene from training and searching for a mistake you made: “Yes, sure…“
She motioned for you to follow her away from the rest of the squad: “Come with me.“
“Uhm okay?“, you replied slowly, your heart beating almost as fast as it did when you were chasing after the ball.
You finally stopped on the opposite end of the field. Alexia turned towards you: “You and Ona…“
“Yeah? Did we annoy you during training?“, you grinned, all the tension immediately gone when you heard your best friends name.
The corners of Alexias mouth quirked up: “Yeah, by acting like you don’t fancy each other.“
“Excuse me, what?! We don’t fancy each other. We’ve been close friends forever.“, you explained. The smile had died on your face and was now replaced by furrowed eyebrows.
The team captain shrugged unimpressed: “Sure, keep telling yourself that.“
You shook your head as you continued: “That’s why I’d never go for her, she’s one of my best friends.“
You immediately knew something was wrong when Alexia did no reply. When you turned around, you only saw Ona running away towards the dressing room. Your warm up shirt was laying on the grass.
Your brain needed the moment but eventually made the connection. She obviously wanted to bring you the shirt and must have heard you. You cursed under your breath: “Shit.“
“I told you.“, Alexia said plainly.
Your thoughts were racing: “What?“
She shook her head with a sigh and pointed in the direction of where Ona had disappeared: “Just go after her!“
2011
They say beginnings are always the hardest. And at twelve years old, you had to agree.
Setting your first steps into Barcelonas youth academy La Masia had felt like the end of everything you knew so far. You were riddled with anxiety and awe, walking through the halls towards your new room. You could barely grasp that you were finally here but at the same time you started to ask yourself if you even wanted to be here at all.
You stopped in front of an inconspicuous looking door. Only the number on the front told you that this was the room that you would call your home from now on. You took a deep breath and knocked.
A short girl with reddish brown hair opened the door with a wide grin. Her face was covered in freckles. “Y/n, right? Hi, I’m Ona. We’ll be roommates.“
There was a warmth radiating off of her that immediately made you feel a lot calmer. With your suitcase still in hand, you smiled: “Hello, nice to meet you, Ona.“
“If you want, you can leave your stuff here and I’ll show you everything.”
You were eager to get to know the place which would be your home for the next years. Gratefully you took Ona’s offer:” Yes, let’s go.”
It turned out that your roommate was the perfect guide, she seemed to know where everything was and had a charming way to introduce you to this new place and people.
Still the vastness of the grounds was intimidating to you as the girl who grew up far away from the Catalonian capital in a village with a small population:” Wow, this is huge.”
“It’s quite cool, right?”, Ona beamed at you.
You nodded in agreement while taking a closer look at the pictures on the wall from footballers like Messi, Iniesta and Xavi who have started here where you were now:” It’s especially when one thinks about the people who came here before us.”
Before the visual history could put too much weight on your shoulders the other girl quickly changed the topic:”Do you have your schedule, already?”
“Yes, I do. Do we have things together?”, you curiously asked her before showing her the printed schedule you got at your arrival.
Happily, Ona observed: “Looks like we have a lot of classes together. And training of course.”
“Of course, what’s your position?”
“I play defense. Mostly left back.”, your roommate replied with a grin. You could immediately tell that she enjoyed what she was playing which was much to your surprise most players in your previous team didn’t like to be a defender or a goalkeeper.
“That’s cool. I usually play right back.”, you told her in an excited tone.
The brunette beamed at you:” Oh, that’s perfect.”
“Do you think they thought about that when they assigned us to be roommates?”, you thought out loud.
The fellow defender answered thoughtfully:” Possibly. They always try to put people together that might be compatible.”
“Can’t wait for the first training.”, you confessed.
“You’ll like it. The girls are really nice.”, Ona promised you with a warm smile on your lips.
Thinking about your own football history you admitted to her:” It’s my first time playing with an only girls’ team.”
“You played with boys before?”, she lifted an eyebrow in surprise.
“Yes, you didn’t think that, huh?”, you gave her a challenging look, knowing full well how you must look in your eyes with your long ponytail which was held together by a bow.
Quickly Ona waved it off:” I was just surprised.”
“Because I look too girly to kick a ball around with boys?”, you teased her.
“I didn’t say anything about that.”, she protested laughing.
“Yes, okay, you didn’t.” When you discovered a ball close to your feet, you picked it up glancing expectantly at your roommate:” Do you want to play for a bit now instead of just talking about football?”
Your first days in La Masia were filled with football and classes. All these new impressions and the tight schedule left you with little time to catch your breath. Only at night, your thoughts started racing and the heavy feeling in your chest became unbearable.
Lying awake in the dark of your room, you could not stop the tears from falling. You quietly sobbed into your pillow when you felt a weight pushing down the mattress next to you. A small hand started stroking your hair while you held your breath.
“Hey… are you okay? What’s wrong?“, Onas voice whispered close to your ear.
You quickly wiped away the tears: “Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you up…“
“It’s okay. I wasn’t asleep yet anyway.“, she replied softly.
“I just miss home, my family, friends and team… They live so far from here.“, you tried to explain but the tears welled up in your eyes again.
Ona laid down next to you, pulling you close to her for a short hug: “I understand that, trust me. The first few weeks here are always hard.“
“But it gets better?“, you asked with slight hopefulness.
“It will. I promise.“, Ona nodded.
For a moment, you both wordlessly stared into the darkness, existing in each others space.
“The coaches are really tough but you were right, the girls are really nice.“, you said into the silence.
You could hear the soft smile in Onas voice when she replied: “They are. Trust me, the coaches only want the best for you. You will get used to everything.“
“What if I’m not good enough?“ When your question was met with a chuckle, you gently hit Ona on her upper arm: “Hey, don’t laugh about it.“
“I saw you play. You belong here.“, your roommate grinned.
The heavy feeling started to lift with Ona by your side. You finally had to smile now too: “If you say so.“
Ona shrugged: “Fine, don’t believe me. But I know it’s true.“
“Thank you for listening to me.“
“Do you think you can sleep now?“, Ona yawned.
“Yes, good night, Ona.“, you mumbled before the increasing drowsiness let you fall asleep with your head on Onas shoulder.
2015
You and Ona trusted each other blindly. You had become best friends over the years which made for an incredible partnership on the pitch. With one of you on each side of the defense line, you were stable parts of Barcelonas youth team. You had a league game against Levante and it was half time when Aitana came to you: “I’m jealous of Ona and you.“
“You’re jealous, Tana? You don’t need to be, you’re one of our best.“, you laughed and pulled the shorter girl into a hug.
The midfielder shook her head: “But you have such an understanding of each other. You always know who’s going to attack and who needs to hang back without talking. I love that.“
“I wish I was a part of that.”, Laia sighed.
Smiling Aitana stated:” You kind of are, Laia.”
“Laia, you’re equally as important in our line of defense.”, you reassured her.
“Yes, we need you.”,  Ona padded your teammates thigh who’s face lit up after all those kind words from her team.
Closing your eyes you told Laia:” I feel like you’ll score a header in the second half, Laia.”
“We’ll see about that.”, your teammate laughed warmly.
“Trust me.”, you grinned at her.
“I do.”
Only five minutes into the second half and Aitana scored a screamer with your assist. “Oh my god, that was amazing!”, Ona jumped into your open arms, you almost fell over but could stay up with the two of you.
Her compliment made your cheeks turn red almost immediately:” Nah, Aitana’s goal was prettier.”
“Stop it and take the compliment.”, the midfielder rolled her eyes at you.
“She’s been bad at it since day one.”, your best friend blurted out with a teasing smile on her lips, clearly referring to one of your first nights at La Masia when you have doubted yourself so much it brought you to tears.
“Shut it.”, you tried to stop her from adding anything more.
But she nonchalantly responded: “It’s true.”
“Let’s keep our head in the game, chicas.”, you reminded them.
“Ugh fine.”, Ona groaned.
At the end your prediction turned out to be true, only one minute before the game was over Laia scored the winning goal.
Excited Laia gesticulated with her hands:” Have you seen my header? Thanks, Oni!”
“Nice one.”, the fellow defender remarked happily.
Meanwhile you hugged Laia from the side:” I told you so.”
At the final whistle you could see Ona walking away from your team to greet her brother who was watching the match in the stands. Grinning Joan embraced her in a hug before he said to her: “Ona, you and your roommate have a great chemistry on the pitch.”
“Thanks?”, she replied a bit confused by the tone in his voice.
“Is there more to it?”, her sibling wiggled his brows.
With an amused smile on her lips Aitana joined their conversation:” Honestly, we’ve been asking them that for forever.”
“No, that’s ridiculous.”, Ona protested giggling.
You came to her rescue, adding:” Right, we’re just friends nothing more and nothing less.”
“That would be weird.”, she thankfully pressed your hand.
“Yeah, I agree.”
“Okay, I got it.”, Joan answered.
“I don’t.” Aitana confessed.
“Aitana, stop!”, you both demanded.
The midfielder smiled innocently:” What?”  
In hindsight Ona and you might could have notice that there was more to your connection, but you didn’t like when people were right because you rather proved to them that they were wrong even when those could read you better than yourself at the time.
2018
You both were 18, in a few weeks’ time you both would be 19 but it was the first time you were about to party with the adult team of Barcelona.
A lot of things had changed since your academy years, for example Ona was playing for Levante now while Aitana and you were a few of the lucky ones who were allowed to stay in the Barcelona senior squad as the club was trying to get more experienced players and let the younger ones go. But you still were best friends, and you were happy that she was in town to celebrate.
The two of you sat in the Barcelona apartment that you had recently moved in and got ready for the party.
“Can you believe it? We get to play with the adult teams now and we’re going to party with them for the first time.“, you asked while applying mascara to your eyelashes.
Ona was busy changing into a new shirt for the third time: “No. But I’m so ready for it.“
“Me too.“
Your best friend examined her outfit in the mirror and with a satisfied nod turned to you: “Are you done?“
You put on another layer of lipgloss: “Yes, I’m ready.“
“Let’s leave.“, Ona grinned while passing you your purse.
Of course, you arrived fashionably late at the party where the older players were already celebrating.
With a drink in hand, Jenni elbowed Alexia in the side: “The children arrived!“
Unimpressed, you rolled your eyes: “Not funny, Jenni.“
“Oh come on, take a joke.“, the dark-haired striker grinned.
“Maybe after a drink.“, you replied casually which caused Alexia and Jenni burst out laughing.
“Someone’s thirsty.“, Alexia teased.
“No, worries. We got you.“, Jenni smiled before leaning over the bar to order some drinks. She handed you and Ona a glass each.
You quickly took a sip: “Thanks, Jenni.“
“You’re welcome.“
Alexia held out her glass: “Cheers, you two.“
“Cheers.“, you said as you all clinked your glasses together.
You and Ona spend most part of the night talking to the other players who always made sure, you had a drink in hand. While the clock ticked closer to midnight, you started feeling the alcohol.
“Come on, Oni. Let’s dance.“, you begged and pulled on your best friends arm.
Ona who seemed a little less drunk, grimaced: “Dancing? In front of everyone?“ You took her glass and set it down on a table before pulling her towards the dance floor. Gently, you took her hands in yours: “Close your eyes, pretend it’s our room.“
“Fine.“, she sighed and followed your instruction.
You happily watched as she finally started moving to the rhythm of the music. “Better? Or still terrible?“, you laughed.
For a moment, Ona said nothing and as you followed her gaze, you realized why. A man, definitely older than you, had started dancing close behind you and kept thrusting his hips in your direction. You immediately felt panic rise in your stomach.
“It just gotten horrible.“, Ona belatedly answered your question but you could barely hear her over the rush of blood in your ears.
“Want to dance with me?“, he asked. His smile was betraying him, telling you that he did not only have dancing in mind.
You forced yourself to a stiff smile: “No, thanks.“
“What’s the problem? It’s just a dance. Or do you have a boyfriend? He doesn’t have to know.“
Surprised by his persistence and audacity, you found yourself unable to answer.
Luckily Ona stepped in and gave him a cold look: “Actually, she has a girlfriend?“
“You?“, he asked.
“Yes, Ona is my girlfriend.”, you quickly lied. To make sure the man was finally leaving you alone your best friend kissed you. The words didn’t work but that gesture thankfully did.
After the kiss you went back to the table the Barcelona girls were sitting around.
“Oh my god, girls, what if something happened and he didn’t just leave?!”, Alexia who has seen everything sounded deeply worried.
“Alexia, relax that was hot.”, Jenni grinned.
The midfielder shook her head in frustration:”  This isn’t about that, Jenni. It was about their safety.”
Softly you intervened:” We’re okay, Alexia. Really.”
“I hope so.”, she grumbled.”
“The kiss.”, Aitana started.
Promptly you interrupted her:” That was just a measure to make him leave, Tana.”
You could hear her voice being filled with scepticism:” Yeah, definitely looked like that.”
“We’re just very convincing that’s all.”, Ona replied with a wink.
“Sure.”, Aitana said, clearly not believing a word she said.
“Let’s stay with us for now please.”, Alexia pleaded smiling.
Despite the incident earlier you enjoyed that night out. So much that you looked up in surprise a couple of hours later:” You’re leaving?”
“It’s late, children.”, Jenni answered amused.
Her comment made Ona blush:” We’ve not noticed.”
“Of course, you two didn’t.”, Aitana remarked giggling.
2020
“Wait, Ona you’re going to Manchester?!”, you repeated while feeling weirdly numb to the news your best friend just told you in your own appartement.
“Yeah, I’m signing the contract in a few days.”, she tried to keep her voice calm even though your reaction confused her.
“Oh. Wow.”, you muttered.
A bitter laugh escaped Ona’s mouth:” What? You’re not even excited for me?”
“No, I just hoped you would go back to Barca.”, you admitted.
She raised an eyebrow:“Why?”
“Doesn’t matter. Good luck in cold England.”, you waved it off.
“Thanks. I don’t need it. If you excuse me now, I must continue packing.”, the hurt in her voice was undeniable. You noticed that the defender was holding on to one of your sweaters which she was trying to put into her tote bag: “That’s mine, can I have it back?”
“It’s my sweater.”, Ona coldly stated.
“Whatever.”
She was already on her way to the front door but turned around glancing hopeful at you:” You’ll visit me, right.”
“We’ll see about that.”, you replied.
Much later you’d realize that you didn’t react like a best friend more like a lover who was hurt that her love was leaving for another country to find success abroad.
to be continued...
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bellawedderburn · 2 years
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i always picture you with a suitcase in your hand
unknown/richard siken/margarita karapanou/d.j./the national/ocean vuong/richard siken/phoebe bridgers
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pityroad · 8 days
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— Into the Breach, Ocean Vuong, from 'Night Sky with Exit Wounds'
[text ID: To love another / man — is to leave
no one behind
to forgive me.
I want to leave / no one behind.]
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sukunasweetheart · 5 months
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👀👉🏾👈🏾 Sukuna x Reader ex's to lovers?
wowowow i cant believe im doing like another celebrity au again but here goes nothing ahaha...
i love this trope, i ended up writing a WHOLE, lengthy ass, detailed plotline on it i hope u dont mind <3 (A WHOLE WHOPPING 6K WORDS YALL)
prepare for hella angst, OOC sukuna, insecure fem!reader, ghosting, messy break up, conflicting and complicated feelings + sexual tension and then intense smut @ the end (make up sex)
imagine sukuna being like, an amateur model-turned-actor, with you being his highschool sweetheart, who was there to support him since day one
a very happy, fulfilling relationship for the most part-- until he starts gaining huge amounts of popularity.
youve always known that he was meant and born to reach sky-high levels of success, and you were certain he was going to make it one day
but things get rockier by the second, and insecurity is such an ugly, ugly thing
seeing him model with other beautiful celebrities, acting in roles where he had a love interest to kiss and fondle, reading those gossip scandal articles involving him and another party every few months or so-
it all got too much for you.
all you needed was some reassurance... but young and vivacious sukuna, drunk on this fame and attention, failed to recognise that and left you feeling neglected.
not on purpose tho, he's never engaged in infidelity, he's never gazed upon someone else with lust or love on his mind - he was using everyone around him as a stepping stone towards his own career
sukuna's known you since forever, and he was confident that you knew his affection for you was unwavering... so he failed to understand where you were coming from whenever you brought these things up
arguments after arguments after arguments
the worst part of it was that he wanted to keep his relationship with you a secret. saying something about how having a significant other would slow his progress in his career down... the decision was urged on by the entertainment company that he was in a contract with
it hurt so damn much when he was being interviewed on tv about his romantic life, only for him to tell the world he was single.
it leads to more arguing.
of course, as a rising celebrity, he was quite awfully busy with many business trips and attending a lot of parties and galas
another terrible fight occurred right before he had to leave for a flight overseas but by then, youd pretty much already decided that you were going to leave him
you basically ghosted him, packing all your belongings overnight, blocking his number and all his social media accounts, making sure even all yours and his mutual friends didn't know of your whereabouts. you're going to start fresh. and give him no closure.
it was petty revenge, and maybe immature of you, but you were just as young as he was, and you wanted him to hurt as badly as you were hurting back then.
sukuna's still overseas, having just come back from another fancy gathering and is fresh out of the shower, in his hotel room... he decides he's gonna try and give you a call, but ofc you don't pick up
he sighs and convinces himself that he'll sort things out with you later when he gets back, not knowing that there won't be a 'later'.
meanwhile you're dragging a suitcase out of the apartment, taking a taxi somewhere else far away, crying as you pass by giant billboards that have pictures of sukuna plastered all over
he feels like such a faraway person now. no longer someone who you used to cuddle closely in bed, or hold hands with. you're not even sure of who you are without him anymore.
you could imagine his reaction when he came home, only to find your entire existence missing. seriously, it was like you were never there. you left nothing of yours behind, and the place was cleaned spick and span, not a hair of yours to be found.
when was the last time sukuna felt so panicked?? this dull ache in his chest, as he spams you calls and texts that never reach you
he contacts mutual friends in rotation but everyone is absolutely clueless... he considers filing a missing persons case but then a trusted friend of yours tells him to not look for you... and that you wanted them to relay a message to him, just a simple goodbye.
what the fuck are you talking about?
oh, here comes a severe headache.
his mind is whirring with overlapping memories, thoughts, regrets, thinking about any clues that might give away where you couldve gone, but theres simply nothing
the shock moves into sorrow, then denial, and then it turns to anger. does he mean nothing to you? so much so that youd abandon him without saying a word?
its like he was going through the five stages of grief, but for someone who he knew was still alive..
eventually, he finds a rebound out of spite. if youve left him, then it's means he's free and single, right? he gets himself piss-drunk, and beds another, only to wake up feeling absolutely disgusted. it feels like... it feels like he's cheated on you. even though you're already gone. he's just a mess of conflicting emotions, and it lasts for so long.
the reason why he doesnt hire someone or use some other underhanded method to actually look for you is because of a weird mixture of both his pride and feelings of insecurity, thinking that maybe, just maybe, you do deserve someone better, someone who understands you more... (and he's also fearful that someone like you, might've already found love somewhere else, and he's definitely not confident that he'll be able to act maturely if he sees its true)
eventually, acceptance does come... but does it really?
i like to think he went through many failed relationships, his partners always leaving him upon witnessing him getting intoxicated and calling for none other than your name in his state. someone who no one around him knows anymore.
years pass, and time really does allow you to forget. for both you and sukuna alike. in your mid thirties, both of you are single at this time.
you've been busy with your new job at some company (dont ask me, i was too lazy to decide what kind, so u guys can make this one up bye), and he made sure to keep himself busy as well. no time for fleeting romance.
of course, until fate does that weird thing where it pushes people together again... a new project lands in your lap, where it involves some kind of collaboration with THE celebrity, ryomen sukuna. of fucking course.
you really did desperately try to get it off and pass this off to some other colleague but they insisted your involvement was necessary. what are you supposed to do? you almost decide to quit... but this job means a lot to you... you can't just throw everything away because of an ex... right?
and, oh my god, when the first meeting does happen, involving the celebrity himself, you and a couple other coworkers to discuss the project, sukuna sees you and his brain short circuits for a moment.
he starts doubting his own vision, and then he reminisces, in the middle of whatever the fuck everyone else was talking about during the meeting.
"... Mr. Ryomen?" one of the other participants ask.
he clears his throat, regains his composure and regathers his focus. he's an actor for god's sake. and he starts speaking, with thoughts of you in the back of his mind. about how much youve changed, but also remained exactly the same...
during introductions, you shake his hand and act professionally. his eye twitches. will you continue to pretend not to know him even afterwards? should he talk to you separately after this? no... doing that would mean he's the desperate one...
when you saw sukuna hesitating, part of you felt relieved. so you're not the only one getting freaked out. you don't expect him to acknowledge you anymore, though.
after the meeting, he walks out feeling confident that he's going to ignore you back, if this was the kind of game you're going to play with him. you mean nothing to him, just as he means nothing to you.
but he remembers the shock that went down his spine at the feeling of the warmth in your hand. he watches you take an elevator by yourself, and tries to make a split second decision on whether he wants to let you go, or if he wants to chase you down.
he probably shouldn't bother.
but he impulsively speed walks down towards you, anyway.
youre startled when the elevator doors are blocked from closing just at the last second, with someone's arm coming through between. your heart skips a beat seeing that it's none other than sukuna.
what is this sensation? this mix of fear and... excitement. you should be unperturbed. you're over him. he's someone from the past. you're buzzing with these feelings, but there also comes a creeping resentment that finds its way to you again, as you try to remember why you left him in the first place.
he unclicks whatever level you were heading to, and clicks on the highest level instead. he's gonna take you to the rooftop of the building, where he can confront you peacefully.
"Mr. Ryomen? Is there something wrong?" you ask him. still feigning ignorance. like salt to a wound. you know its another petty move from your part, but you can't help yourself.
"Don't call me that. You know damn well why I'm here," Sukuna drawls, sounding more sad than angry. they've really become strangers.
you grow silent, being hit with a pang of guilt. deep down, you knew you shouldve handled it more maturely than that. he deserved closure, and you needed it too. but isn't it too late for all that now?
the conversation flows tense, but unravels slowly. there's still a lot of questions being withheld though. he wants to ask you how youve been. were you able to sleep peacefully after you left him? why did you have to leave in the worst way possible?
a familiar headache creeps up.
simultaneously, the anger finds its way in his heart all over again. he knows he didn't do much good towards the end of their relationship either but ghosting him was plain disrespectful and childish.
you surprise him when you give a sudden heartfelt apology.
you tell him that you know apologising now after all these years is frankly almost meaningless but still, he didnt deserve to be left behind in that kind of way. you admit that you should've communicated with him properly that you were breaking up with him.
he's left kinda speechless, bc he was so ready to be all snarky to you after everything.. he's still mad, but he can't really say shit anymore without sounding like too much of an asshole.
truth be told, if you did stay around to tell him that you were breaking up with him beforehand, he probably wouldn't have let you go... where would you guys be now, if you never separated?
"i've always wanted to apologise. it's been weighing on me ever since i left."
...and yet, you didn't ever think to call or text him even once afterwards? he never changed his number in hopes for that, and he hates himself for it.
"i understand that you hate me now, but let's try to get through the collaboration without trouble. and then we can part ways again."
that one pierces his heart, like a bullet. you haven't said anything technically wrong. he should hate you. or at least, he should feel indifferent by now. and yet... the way that you automatically assume so irks him badly.
"do you really believe that i hate you? aren't you the one that hates me?"
it's a stupid fucking question. what the fuck is he even saying? he wants to kick the elevator door.
"...i left because i thought you hated me, that you didn't need me anymore. and i tried to convince myself that i hated you too. but that couldn't be further from the truth. even now, i don't ha-"
before you can say any more, the elevator doors open, and a small group of employees are standing outside them, looking curiously in at you and sukuna. then, they realise who he is. they come flocking in, asking for autographs and pictures.
you quietly slip out of the crowd, and after giving one quick glance at sukuna, who visibly wants to pursue you again, you walk away to avoid gathering attention on yourself. wait-! dammit- he thinks.
he can't chase after you. he can't call out for you to stop. he can't push all of these people away. if he did, it will cause rumours and unfavourable articles to fly out. let's try to get through the collaboration without trouble. his own fame becomes another obstacle between you and him.
back then, you were his whole world, yet somewhere along the path, he started to fail in making you feel like it.
he watches you take the fire exit towards the emergency stairs, while he's surrounded by overbearing fans who beg for his attention. you're going to have to walk down in your heels, all because of him. as he catches the final glimpse of you, as he's reluctantly dealing with his fans, he begins to understand, a little bit. he didn't want to understand why you decided to leave him. but he does now. a little.
a couple of stairwells down, you eventually pause for a moment and sit down on the last step to take a breather. you wipe your sweaty palms against your skirt. the familiar tug at your heart, in which your insecurities come flowing back to you, seeing him surrounded. you need to build higher, stronger walls around you from now.
when sukuna is done on his end, and sends them off down the elevator, he goes off to check down the stairs you went, but you've already booked it. slipped right through his fingers. you were about to say something important. with unresolved feelings, sukuna also takes the stairs down, with a heavy heart. each step down brings him another old, nostalgic memory of you to him.
from then on, the more he interacts with you during work-related matters, the more apparent it becomes that he still harbors feelings for you. he tries to ignore it, push it back down, but it only returns twice as overwhelming.
your voice. the way you smile. the scent of your perfume. exactly the same as back then. yet, he also observes the changes that have occurred in you; how you act, speak and the kinds of words you use, as well as seeing you in such a professional setting rather than personal - everything is coming together to allure him more, and he's in a state where he's unable to resist this attraction, but also unable to act on it, because he's not sure how you'd react to it.
he knows it's not just him getting drunk on nostalgia.
the next time he catches you alone, he makes sure to tell you that he doesn't hate you like you believe he does. you'd never admit it, but that gave you butterflies in your stomach.
in fact, everything sukuna does, even just locking eyes with you for a few seconds, is enough to make your heart rate increase, intensifying when he looks at you almost like... almost like he wants you. you must be imagining things.
he finds himself doing uncharacteristic deeds, like sending coffee for all the staff members. his manager passes them out to everybody, including you. he doesn't know if you still like your coffee the same way as he remembers, but he makes sure that yours is a little different, a little more specific than everyone else's, in hopes that you'll notice these small gestures of his.
over the course of the project, he inches closer to you, ever so slowly. but you don't seem to budge. even worse, you seem to be avoiding him as much as you possibly can. you avert your gaze from his. stagger away when he gets close.
he brings it up on one occasion, when he's able to approach you at the back of the building, where there's no one around, and no watchful eyes of a nosy audience. it's definitely frustrating and unpleasant- when he wants to speak with you, he has to keep distance in case another scandal rises. he doesn't want to drag you into the spotlight, without knowing if you're okay with it first.
sukuna only really talks to you when there's nobody around. maybe he's being considerate of you, but it gives you the impression that he doesn't want to be seen hanging around with you. it makes you remember things you don't want to. it makes you remember that being with him now requires a courage that you're not sure that you have. at the very least, you know you definitely didn't have it back then.
you keep conversations short with him, and try to leave. but he keeps at it persistently. what is he trying to do? is he toying with you?
"you're acting like you want us to get back together. don't do things that'll make me misunderstand," you tell him. you were trying to provoke him. expecting him to deny it harshly and back away, because you knew he was prideful- he'd never be caught being hung up over an ex.
"...and? what if i told you that i do want that? would you stop avoiding me then?" he takes one step forward, and you take one back, proving his point.
why is he pushing aside his ego for you? where did all his arrogance go off to? this isn't how the sukuna in his twenties would've responded. his answer makes you waver, and you don't appreciate that. you try not to show it.
"no. i'd only begin to avoid you even more. so don't start."
"i'm not," you deny, but your voice betrays you. he clings onto that.
"why? ...afraid that you'd cave in to me?"
like the way he's already pretty much caved in for you?
"you don't sound very convincing."
"...would you want someone who'd choose their career over you?"
that stops him in his tracks. he has nothing to say to that. because he did make that mistake. where he prioritised his job over your feelings.
"i don't hate or blame you for that anymore, sukuna. but you have to understand... i don't want to go through that pain ever again. i don't want to hold you back. we both deserve more compatible partners."
your own words sting yourself, and you try to go again right after saying that, because it's getting too much for you. his hand flies out to grab yours out of instinct, to stop you from leaving. leaving him again.
it's really not like him to be the clingy ex, pathetically begging to be taken back, but he's willing to throw such pride away if it means you'll be appeased. if you'll let him back into your life again.
"don't say that. you never held me back-- you were my home and my everything, and i was the one that started to take you for granted," he says gently, his low voice laced with sorrow, so uncharacteristically. you've only ever heard this kind of tone from him once before, and it was when his grandfather, who was like a parent to him, had passed away. his thumb brushes over your hand.
"give me another chance. this time i'll let the whole world know about us. about how much you mean to me."
he gets in close ever so slowly, and you let him, for only a moment, before gently pushing him away, with a hand on his chest.
sukuna hitches in a breath, heart sinking to his stomach. he wants to embrace you so, so, so bad. he needs your warmth. always has been. always will. but he sees that you're unrelenting, which breaks him.
"no, stop... i'm sorry, i can't."
you're still scared. you keep thinking about how lonely you felt when you were with him, at least right before the break up. seeing him laughing through the tv screen. alone in the living room. and all the arguments.
your hand slips out of his, and he lets you go. he feels empty when you walk away. hollow. the similar feeling he felt when you first left him, but less anguish and more despair. when he gets home, he tries to drink those feelings away. something he rarely does. old regrets and heartaches return, and he drinks until he passes out.
while he drinks, you weep. crying into your pillow, wondering if you're doing the right thing. wondering if this is how it's supposed to be. terrified of being with him again, but also terrified of losing him, like a hypocrite.
from then on, sukuna keeps a respectful distance from you... no longer trying to make approaches in secret, no longer pursuing you every chance he gets. but he still sends out coffee. even provides snacks to the crew. little do they know, they're the kinds of snacks that he knows you loved. hopefully, you still do. he'll keep his distance because it's what you want, but he wishes to keep doing these little things for you. subtly.
and you notice it, too. you have vivid memories of telling him about your favourites and preferences back then, and you recognise what he's trying to do. you drink the coffee. and you always grab a handful of the snacks. you do appreciate it. it makes you happy that he remembers. on a few occasions, you turn to look at him, only to witness him looking away at the last second.
it's not too long before the project is successfully finalised, and all their efforts have been rewarded. a celebration is due, and your boss throws a party at a fancy hotel for everyone to enjoy themselves at. sukuna had stopped going to so many gatherings and parties quite a while ago, but he attends knowing that you'll be there as well. he'll see you for the final time before he'll lose any excuses to be around you ever again. it'll be the final night.
you exchange a few words with him at the venue, but the two of you leave each other to mingle with other groups reluctantly, to avoid suspicion. both of you are quite tense all throughout the night, sipping on some wine to ease it, but it still doesn't relax the tension you feel, no matter how far away sukuna stands from you.
a few hours in, and you decide to excuse yourself early to head up into your designated hotel room. your boss covered the expenses for a night, and it would've been a waste to decline it, so you decided to stay. sukuna isn't around anywhere at the venue anymore, so you assume he's already left. you thought about saying farewell, but it didn't seem appropriate after you flat out rejected him. you still have doubts about the decision. because you miss him. but what's done is done, and you can't take back what you've already said.
however, getting to the hotel elevator, you notice he's standing there, with miraculous timing. you awkwardly "hey" him, and he says it back, hands in his pockets.
the two of you step inside when it arrives, and the thick tension remains.
"i'm surprised. i thought you'd be staying around longer for the party," you tell him.
he can't tell you that he found it unbearable, to see you hanging around other people, but being unable to get closer to you himself.
"i just got a bit tired," he lies. "did you have a lot to drink?"
"not at all. i had a few glasses, but i'm still sober."
"same here."
as the lift gets closer to your level, you get antsy, thinking about what to say before you leave, but your thoughts get interrupted when he asks you something abruptly.
"...can i walk you to your room? for the last time."
you swallow thickly on nothing, and feel how your chest aches at the words. last time.
"alright. sure," you say.
he wasn't expecting you to say yes, but he's glad you're letting him stay beside you a little longer. you're staring at the elevator doors, but he's looking at your face from the side. if only the lift would malfunction and stop, right here.
but it doesn't, and soon, he's really walking beside you as you get to your hotel room door, in silence. you unlock it using your key, and then that's it.
"thanks for walking me here," you say rather sheepishly. the thought of him wanting to spend even a few more seconds with you... your hold on the door knob is tight as you stand, face turned around to look at him. it's taking everything in you to stand your ground. last minute guilt and regrets are bombarding your thoughts, and...
"i'll say this now because i probably won't get another chance again," sukuna starts, looking directly into your eyes. his eyes are mellow, and he looks wistful.
"i'm sorry. i realised i never apologised, even though that's the first thing you did for me," he starts. he knows there's a mountain of reasons he is apologising for, but he decides he'll keep this short for your sake.
".. i can't lie to you and say that i wish for your happiness with someone else. 'm not that nice." you know it the best. and you understand, because you don't think you'd be able to withstand seeing him happy with someone else, either.
"find your happiness elsewhere, thanks," he grunts humorously. for god's sake. he's never been good at things like this. being heartfelt. at least it made you chuckle a bit. his expression of indignation melts away into a melancholic one again.
"i still love you." (always have, always will.)
you fight back sudden tears, and your throat begins to ache. sukuna unclenches his fist, and tries to relax himself more.
"and...i'll miss you," he breathes the phrase out. says it so quietly, like it hurts for him to say. (i don't want to let you go.)
something snaps within you and everything starts to scream at you to take everything back, and stop him from going away. don't go- don't go- don't go-
"...goodnight."
he notices your wet eyes, and he has to fight back against the urge to reach out and wipe it away. to rescind his farewell, and pull you into his arms again - forcefully, if he has to. he needs to leave, before he loses control.
you're panicking, and your vision is swimming, and you don't think you'll ever be happy again if you let him go like this-- you're gonna be heartbroken in the worst way imaginable. you want him back, and you know you're being unreasonable after turning him down like that, but you don't care anymore. you want to go against your fears. you want to try being with him again.
before you can stop yourself, your hand catches onto the hem of sukuna's sleeve, seconds before he takes another step away from you.
his eyes widen, and he looks at your grip on his sleeve, like he's checking to see if it's real, and he's not making this shit up in his mind. his heart beats impossibly fast. his hopes skyrocket. the world decided to have mercy on him.
"...you're being unfair, grabbing onto me like this. after i went through hell just now, trying to say goodbye." he's being awfully patient right now.
you don't respond, only silently weeping.
he waits to see if you'll let go, whether this was just an act out of a temporary fickle in your heart, but your grip remains tight, and you're now just looking up at him with tears rolling down, eyes glossy and desperate, pulling at his heart strings. you only let go when he comes back to you, not hesitant to brush his thumbs across your face now, wiping the wetness away.
"what do you want me to do? tell me, and i'll do it. leave? stay?" sukuna coos at you, like he's always done before, waiting patiently until you've calmed down enough to respond properly.
"i shouldn't... i shouldn't let you in. not after how much i'd pushed you away," you whisper. today was supposed to mark the end of it all.
he doesn't even give a fuck about that anymore. what matters is now.
"...but do you want to let me in?"
"...yes," you hic.
he takes a couple of steps forward, making you step back with him, his hand on your waist to make sure you don't trip on the way. he goes past the doorway and into your hotel room slowly. one- two- three- steps. he closes the door behind him quietly.
"and..? what next?" he asks in a low voice, standing close to you, one hand still remaining on your waist, and the other on your upperarm.
"i... i don't know. i just need you," you mumble, looking up at him, eyes red from crying and half-closed. your hands inch up along his back, grabbing handfuls of his suit jacket. sukuna hitches in a breath and something dark flashes across his eyes. they reflect his desire, his almost carnal desperation for you-
"forgive me. i don't think i can hold myself back, anymore."
he captures your lips in his, and groans shamelessly into you. you grip onto him tighter, heart beating so rambunctiously that you fear he can hear it too. it feels too good. the moment he reached you, it felt like the final piece of a puzzle clicking in to complete a full picture.
you part your mouth, and he wastes no time in slipping his tongue inside, kissing you in the way he knows you love, in the way it makes your lips tingle, and, oh god, even after all these years, he still knows how to get you going like no other.
sukuna tastes the traces of wine on your tongue, and even better, he tastes you, the one he'd been missing and craving all this time, the warmth of your skin and touch, your scent, just everything about you, you, you.
he backs you towards the bed, without breaking this breathless, hungry kiss, where he softly lays you down, with him being above you, chest to chest, arms supporting his weight. he momentarily pulls away from you simply just to breathe, and the two of you gaze at each other for a hot second, full of love and lust, breaths overlapping one another. he attempts to ask you "do you still wanna continue?" just in case, but before he gets to say a word, you grab him by his tie and pull his lips to yours again, beginning to loosen it and take it off.
he understands that you want it, now. you successfully manage to untie it, somehow, with just willpower alone, and you start aiming for his buttons next, undoing them one by one. your actions send sparks down to all of his limbs, and he feels so fulfilled by your desire of him, being as intense as how he obsesses over you.
soon after you're done with it, he takes them off and chucks his own clothes away, rendering him half-naked. your hole clenches around nothing at the sight once he pulls away again, his firm muscles and the same old tattoos that you vividly remembered the patterns of. you greedily run your palms across his pecs, eyes turning to hearts. he smirks at you.
it's his turn now, and he doesn't hesitate to start undressing you as well. sukuna gets dizzy at the thought of being able to feast his eyes on your body. he dives in to keep kissing you, and then begins to unbutton you with such speed, it almost startles you.
it's off. your breasts are out in the open now, and sukuna has his fill with massaging them with his large hand, having missed them so much. his palm feels so hot, and your nipples pebble up at his touch, making you gasp into his mouth.
his kiss moves over to the side of your face, it glides down your neck, shoulders, and eventually reaches the swell of your chest. your fingers brush through the pink of his hair as he does so, and you purse your lips together, basking in the feeling of his warm kisses littering your skin. he leaves you hickeys-- the same shape and size and same locations as he used to even during your days in highschool, and you chuckle to yourself at the thought.
it's not long before he's loosening your skirt and slipping your undergarments down, getting rid of your slick-stained panties, much to his satisfaction. sukuna rubs a thumb over your aroused clit, and you whimper, having missed the touch of a man- his touch specifically.
"fuck... you're so wet.... all for me?" he asks, proceeding to slip two fingers into your weeping hole. you arch your back at the feeling, how his thick digits scissor inside of you and press up against a particularly lovely spot. he watches your every response as he does so, watching how you moan because of his touch, and how you're grabbing at his wrist because it's getting too intense. his cock prods uncomfortably against his pants. you're producing so much slick, and his fingers are getting absolutely drenched.
when he takes them out, you whine a little in disappointment.
"i know, i know. i'll give you something better," he whispers, kissing your cheek.
he unbuckles himself, and lowers his boxers to reveal his aching dick, tip wet with precum, veins bulging out the sides. looks the same as you remember. he pumps it a couple of times with his hand that's still covered with your slick, and he twitches. this isn't a dream, is it?
"oh god, please, i need it-" you plead, your hole feeling eager and empty.
"it's all yours," he mumbles. your begging makes him lightheaded as he lines himself up at your weeping cunt.
"i'm all yours."
when he sinks in deep to the hilt, you cry out at the fullness, as his tip pushes the spot inside you that had been feeling so lonely for years. your hands finds themselves against his back, feeling for his tight muscles.
"shit- 'm gonna lose my mind," sukuna groans as he gives a few shallow thrusts into you, cock so hard and throbbing wildly as your plush walls clamp on him and coats him with your arousal. he grabs one of your hands from his back and interlocks his fingers with yours against the mattress, before leaning down to bring his lips against the side of your neck.
"oh, thank god... thank god, you changed your mind. i love you. i would've been so fucking miserable without you, doll. for the rest of my life," he croons, breath fanning so close to your ear. you shudder at the tone of his voice, tearing up again, mixed with pleasure and relief, and you grab his hand tighter.
you turn your head a little more to the side, making it easier for sukuna to bite and suck on the sensitive skin of your neck, as his thrusts increase in speed, nudging your g-spot with every movement.
soon enough, he's bringing his attention back to your tongue, which he caresses with his own, nibbling on your lower lip, maintaining this same perfect pace in his thrusts that brings you closer to your orgasm.
"sukuna- i'm- i'm gonna-" you say breathlessly.
but he merely kisses you again, swallowing up any words you could say or moans you could let out, not minding the gasps and whimpers that you make.
sweat beads on his perfect body, and he makes out with you through your high, groaning back when he feels your walls flutter around him. he's close. even once you've finished cumming, he begins to pound into you quicker, wanting to get to his own orgasm. you claw at his back, crying out in pleasure, as sukuna's tongue lathers your jawline.
he wants to breed you so fucking bad. but no, that'll have to wait. he can't do something to jeopardize your trust in him. he'd rather die than endure another second of being distanced from you again.
right before he's pushed off the edge, sukuna pulls out and desperately jerks himself off above your stomach, panting as his cock throbs in his hand with every spurt that coats you, feeling so hot against your tummy.
you feel a twinge of disappointment, because you also wanted to feel that in your womb...
his dick twitches weakly after being spent, and he breathes heavily, liking the sight of you being covered in his seed for another time. (and many more from now.)
" 'kuna... it's a safe day for me today," you suggest to him without thinking. "i want it inside me..."
the phrase is enough to get heat pooling in his abdomen, and he feels himself get hard all over again.
"you sure, doll? if it's what you want, i'll..." he begins to say, almost flustered by your suggestion. you know you shouldn't say this next line, but it's so easy to get carried away with this man... get caught up in the heat of the moment.
"i want your babies so bad."
you've hit his switch. sukuna growls and puts you into a mating press instantaneously, making you squeak.
"no takebacks," he mutters dangerously, beginning the second round.
the night is long, but heavenly, as soon after he dumps everything he has into your womb, then proceeds to eat you out, making you cry for the third time before sunrise.
when you're awake, it's already heading past midday, and you're relieved to see that yesterday's happenings were not a dream, seeing as the large man is sleeping with an iron hold around your body, as if subconsciously afraid you'd leave him before he woke up again.
he awakens from his slumber to your light, feathery touches on his face, which puts him in a good mood from the moment he opens an eye. it was the scenario he's always dreamed of. waking up next to you, smiling.
there's much to talk about. about what's to come next, future plans, worries, and things they need to do to make amends for all the lost years between each other. but you decide to take things slow.
back to bullet points again bc im lazy to write it properly now
you spend the weekend w him at the hotel and stuff, just playing eating and sleeping, catching up yk
he tells you on his own accord that he wants to let everyone know that he's with you now, but he's worried that it'll bring backlash to you but you tell him you're going to be brave and take it, bc you WANT everyone to know
anyway prepare for turbulence
but everything'll be alright bc hes with you
im thinking about how mopey he'll be when you have to separate from him bc you each have your own homes rn, hes always asking you to come over or if he can come over to your place
and he'll be begging you to move in soon, like old times (he lives in a rich man house now tho)
and also thinking about how its a fresh start, but they also go through old memories and now reminiscing isnt painful anymore bc yall are back together
sukuna also says he's stopped doing romance genres in acting bc he had felt annoyed acting in lovey dovey scenes when his own love life used to be in shambles all the time
and bc hes at a point in his career where he has more choice in choosing between scripts that are offered to him, he's going to continue to decline the ones that have love interests, it doesnt affect him that much anyway
he's just being more considerate of your feelings now... and you promised him that you'll never just disappear like that again when you're upset haha...
sometimes when you still have a few disagreements with him, he keeps subtly checking up on you (hes traumatised, leave him be)
lots of facetiming when he has to go overseas for filming purposes <3
okay, thats all, bye <3
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tonicandjins · 1 year
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learning languages | lee donghyuck
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pairing: lee donghyuck | nct haechan x reader word count: 18.5k genre: university au, getting together, smut, fluff, angst summary: in which you're an exchange student and donghyuck teaches you the essential korean phrases you need, and eventually how to fall in love with him tag list: @smwhrinthehaze @byungbyungbaek @sundamariis @thiccfullsun @yesohhsehun @haechoshi @najmnluvr @liz-zo @heyitsconysstuff @magicastle @novawon @gaeulswrld author’s note: I’m so sorry it took so long, but here it is! I imagine conversations with everyone in Korean, except for Mark! 😊 I imagine the conversations with Mark in English. I also have 0 knowledge with the Korean language except from the common phrases every Kpop fan knows lol. So please bare with me and feel free to correct me! ^^ Please also consider tipping me if you want to! NCT Dream is coming to my country this April and I’d love to see them if I could :) TIP ME HERE.
날씨가 추워 (nalssiga chuwo) – the weather is cold
The rain is pouring when you arrive in Incheon. 
It’s not as harsh as it is where you come from, but the February breeze still makes you shiver and curse under your breath, and while you’re wallowing and pouting over the fact that your first day in South Korea is not going as well as you wanted, Mark is chirpy—a little too happy for your liking. 
Of course, Mark is happy. Your bitterness over the weather is not going to spoil his energy, the exact same one—maybe stronger—he has had over the past couple of weeks, counting down the days he’d be back in Seoul, finally. Mark has told you that it had been over a decade since he last visited South Korea, and the Student Exchange Program from your university had been the best opportunity for him to come back after so long, too long. The stupid smile on his face somehow makes you feel better, especially when he jumps from his seat when he sees his childhood friend walk towards your area. 
Renjun is handsome like the picture that Mark sent you a week before your flight to South Korea, but it feels a little unfair that he’s even more attractive in person. His voice sounds like honey and the corner of his eyes crinkle when he smiles as he approaches you and Mark. 
They jump into a tight, dramatic hug that makes a few other people in the waiting area look, but the boys don’t care. Mark lifts Renjun up from the ground, it’s almost embarrassing. The sight makes you feel warm. You wonder how Mark feels. 
It must be amazing, you think, to finally meet someone you’ve been longing to see. Mark had always expressed his yearning for the place—the people, the friends he always had to leave behind when visiting during summer—and it makes you wonder how it feels like to have friends and family away from you. 
Evidently, this is your first time to be away from home. You live (or used to at this point) in a dormitory, a two-minute walk to the campus, a good hour away from home, but you always went home whenever you craved for your mother’s dishes. You’ve never considered living away from home. Sure, you had plans to move out eventually, but not in a different time zone, not in an entirely different culture. Mark, on the other hand, is frequently moving around, dragging his suitcase from place to place, leaving people behind and promising he’d come back when he can.
Born in Canada, Mark had been to more places that you could count, but he has told you many times that nowhere else feels like home, like Seoul. He’s told you many stories of the time his family lived there for a few years before going back to Canada, of his annual visits in the summer, and of his devastation when life had caught up with him that he had to stop visiting when he turned eleven. 
You remember his voice, its tone and emotion, when he called you a couple of months ago, informing you of the exchange program that the university’s administration had posted on the students’ corner, and how fucking amazing it would be if you could sign up with him. 
“It would be a good addition to your credentials,” he had told you. “It’s not going to be for a long time, a semester at least. And we have the option to stay the whole academic year if we wanted to! Plus, I already know a lot of people there. We’ll be fine!”
“I don’t know, Mark,” you had answered, feigning hesitation, even when you knew deep down that Mark had already convinced you by the tone of his voice when he revealed the news. “I’ve never been that far away from home. Remember when we went camping in ninth grade? I cried. For three whole days. I’m not going to survive a semester. Besides, I know not a single Korean word.”
“Come on, Y/N,” he had begged. “Think about it. You’ll be with me the entire time. If we pass the screening, the program will sign us up for free Hangul lessons—though, let’s be honest, I don’t really need it.”
“Why do you have to bring me anyway?” you had asked out of curiosity.
“Because I know you’ll love it there,” he had answered. “Your obsession with studying culture and languages will be satisfied because there is no better way to learn a culture than experiencing the whole thing with your best friend!”
You remember humming in response, as if you’re thinking deeply about it. Mark sighed on the other line, his words making you laugh and finally agree. 
“The chances of Mom letting me go is bigger when I tell her you’re coming with me,” he had admitted. Mark, upon hearing your agreement to his proposal, began listing out the places he would take you. The phone call lasted for three more hours and it had seemed like Mark already had an entire plan in his head before he even asked you if you would go with him. 
Passing the program had been easy and so was acquiring your visa. What was truly the pain in the ass, you admit, is learning the damn language. You salute Mark for being able to speak Korean so fluently, but he’s shit at teaching you and you had to rely on the free lessons you had taken every weekend and your favorite language mentor, Lee Minho in Legend of the Blue Sea. Your Korean is awful. Your tongue is a little too short, too stiff, for said language, and the situation almost makes you back out of the entire program and ditch Mark. 
But here you are, still shit at Korean, but standing among hustling people and waiting for your best friend to wrap up the moment he’s sharing with his long-time friend. Renjun finally catches your eyes as you awkwardly watch them on the side, your backpack becoming heavier each second you’re standing on the airport tiles. He pulls away from Mark, smiling, beaming towards you and offers a handshake. 
“Hwang Renjun,” he introduces. You remember their last names go first here. “Nice to meet you.”
It almost startles you when he speaks English. Mark forgot to mention his friend is fluent, you think. 
You tell him your name, voice smaller than it usually is, and express your relief that he speaks English. 
“I’m originally not from here either,” he explains. “I’m Chinese. My family had to move here before I could even properly pronounce words for my Dad’s work. Went to an international school, where I met Mark back in second grade.”
So, he’s cute and multilingual. How unfair.
“And I’d love to chat longer,” he says, switching to Korean now, before you can even respond. “But Hyuck is waiting in his car. We could talk on our way to your dormitory. For now, let’s go. Hyuck hates waiting.”
“Hyuck drove? What happened to your car?” Mark asks, helping you with your luggage and pushing the cart himself. Renjun insists to carry your backpack, and he had already gently pulled it from your shoulder before you could refuse.
Mark and Renjun talk about Hyuck, both switching to speaking Korean now, on their way out of the arrival area and it doesn’t take long for them to spot their friend’s car outside. The rain had stopped pouring by the time you’re settling yourselves inside their friend’s car. The second you settle yourself on the leather seat, you sigh in relief. Traveling is a lot more exhausting than you had initially thought. 
Renjun sits on the passenger seat, right beside Hyuck, you assume, and Mark settles himself beside you.
“Mark Lee,” Hyuck greets, looking at Mark through the rearview mirror. “A pleasure to finally meet you.”
It takes you a second to understand what he said. It’s only then that you realize you really are in Korea. 
“Lee Donghyuck,” Mark responds in the same tone. “You’re real. I’m happy to see you in person and not just through Facetime. I want to hug you.”
“Am I better looking in person?” Hyuck teases. “Hug me when we’re at your dormitory. I’ll even kiss you on the lips if you want to.”
“Disgusting,” Mark grimaces. “By the way—” He turns his attention to you the same time Hyuck begins driving. “This is Y/N.”
Hyuck only smiles, nodding a little to you through the rearview mirror, brushing his brown hair using his fingers to fix it up. Renjun begins to ask how the flight was and Mark replies. All three boys strike up a conversation in Korean and it was all too much, too fast, for you to catch up and understand anything, so you stay quiet on your seat, leaning against the window, and begin to wonder how things will go for the entire spring semester you’ll be spending in this foreign city. 
Mark never told you that the drive from Incheon to Seoul is long, so far that you didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep.  When you arrive at the dormitory, it’s past six in the afternoon and Mark’s friends ask kindly if you want to go out for dinner. Politely and quite incoherently, you tell them that you’d like to stay. Mark insists on staying home with you and unpacking your belongings, but you urge him to go, spend some time with his friends and walk around. Mark hesitates, but agrees nonetheless, promising he will come back in an hour.
The place the program had picked for you and Mark is not that bad. It’s nothing like home, but it’s not bad. It makes you wonder how Mark does it. You remember not being able to sleep on the first few nights on your dormitory’s bed when you were a freshman. Mark had never told you if he’s had trouble adapting to places he��s been. Maybe you could ask him in the morning. 
The exhaustion hits you again upon entering one of the rooms. Room assignment is yet to be decided, but Mark wouldn’t mind if you sleep on one of the beds while he’s out. And so, you sleep. 
You don’t remember what you dream of. And Mark wakes you at seven in the morning, reminding you that you had to unpack and go grocery shopping. Momentarily, you forget where you are. It hits you the same way it does in his friend’s car. You’re in a different country. A different language. A different time zone. 
It doesn’t feel like home at all even though it’s cold. But you guess you’ll have to make it work. At least until the semester ends. 
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약속해요 (yagsoghaeyo) – I promise
When Mark told you he knew a lot of people in Seoul, you should’ve known he was bluffing because he literally knew only seven people.
Mark Lee’s friends are warm and loud and somehow you feel out of place when they all decide to hangout where you and Mark are. It’s the first week of the semester, and you have completed all the orientation and tour you need; Mark, on the other hand, is still catching up with everyone.
By everyone, he meant Kevin Moon, a senior who is also Mark’s cousin’s long-distance boyfriend who happens to be studying in SNU too, Hwang Renjun from Natural Sciences, Lee Donghyuck from Music, Lee Jeno and Na Jaemin from Engineering and Architecture, Zhong Chenle from Humanities, and Park Jisung from Business Administration. Which is why every day, for the past five days, you’re at a place called Arcade, with Mark and two or three people from their group.
It turns out Huang Renjun and Na Jaemin were Mark’s friends from childhood, the others are friends by extension.
Huang Renjun, you understand why Mark is closest to him among all. He’s soft all over but sharp in the mouth. Renjun, you learn, likes to talk about life and likes to give people advice when they need it. He’s reserved with other people but is the complete opposite when he’s with his friends.
Lee Jeno is shy. He normally joins the group after his internship at a construction corporation in the outskirts of Seoul, which is why you haven’t really seen him much—only twice. You haven’t had that many conversations with him yet, but he’s kind enough to pass you the ketchup when he sees you staring at it from the end of the table.
Zhong Chenle and Park Jisung are best friends. There’s not a day that you have not seen either without the other, kind of reminds you of how you and Mark are. They join whenever one is available—two peas in a pod.
Na Jaemin is the closest with Lee Donghyuck. You see them talking in their bubble more frequently than the others. Jaemin is mysterious and a little cold—the complete opposite of Lee Donghyuck.
Lee Donghyuck, well, you’ve got a lot to say about him.
It isn’t necessarily an uncomfortable feeling, because Mark’s friends are kind enough to slow down when they talk to you and are quite protective of you, especially when a random stranger bravely comes up to you to introduce themselves. Lee Donghyuck, in particular, who’s as warm as the sun touching your skin at nine in the morning and whose voice is careful and assuring, ensures that you’re never out of place—even when you feel it all the time. From the day the semester started, there hasn’t been a day when Donghyuck isn’t hanging out with you and Mark at Arcade.
Mark normally picks you up from class because thank God your schedules are aligned to each other despite having different majors. The College of Social Sciences is quiet, unlike the building right beside you, College of Music, and Mark usually takes five minutes to find you, because you can’t trust yourself to walk around on your own—at least not yet. But today, Mark asked if you could meet Kevin first because his girlfriend had something for him from Canada.
“Hyungseo!” You hear someone call, making you look up from your phone to see Kevin walking towards you. He stops and turns around, a girl you’ve seen around the college of social sciences once or twice running towards him.
“Don’t forget to bring the laminated cards we need for Friday!” the lady shouts. Kevin gives her a thumbs up and turns back to you.
“Y/N, right?” he asks in English. You nod. He offers a hand. “I’m sorry we haven’t met personally yet. But I’m Kevin.”
“She called you Hyungseo, though,” you trail off, accepting the handshake anyway. “I’ve seen your pictures from Giselle’s phone, so I knew it was you.”
He laughs. “Hyungseo’s my Korean name. You should’ve packed her with you.”
You reach for your bag and hand him the box that’s been sitting in your backpack all day. “Here,” you say. “No plans on visiting sometime soon?”
Kevin sighs. “I wish I could,” he answers. “It’s not as easy as we thought.”
“You guys sound okay though,” you comment. “I mean, Giselle always sounds so happy when she talks about you back home.”
This makes Kevin smile. “Oh, she does?”
“Why would she think of getting you a gift all the way from home if she’s not?” you ask, biting your tongue as soon as the words come out. “Sorry, I shouldn’t ask.”
“Let’s talk about this over some soju when you find a dude you want to spend the rest of your life with here,” he jokes. “Thanks for bringing this. You and Mark have been so busy; he’s been declining all my invitations to hangout.”
You sigh, “Yeah. It’s only the first week and there are lot of things we had to do. I’ll ask him if we can hang out on the weekend?”
Kevin agrees and hands his phone to you, asking to put your number so he could call you. You do and tell him you’re grateful you could talk to someone in English aside from Mark and bid him goodbye when he leaves. You shoot Mark a text, telling him you’ll be waiting for him and that Kevin’s dropped by to get his gift from Giselle.
Hence, you wait outside, busying yourself with your phone, trying to avoid any interaction as much as you can, and you don’t notice Donghyuck standing beside you until he taps your shoulder and gives you a warm smile.
“Mark is running late,” he says slowly. “Let’s go to Arcade together.”
You smile at Donghyuck’s attempt to pronounce Arcade how you would and nod at him. He leads the way out of the building, his backpack on one shoulder, and asks you how your classes are so far.
“It’s okay,” you answer because it’s all you can think of. “Thank God my professor in Psychology speaks English.”
Donghyuck hums. “It must be difficult for you.”
“It is,” you confess.
Among everyone you have met so far, Donghyuck gives you the feeling of comfort; you’re not exactly the most outgoing person nor the least—you were in between. You were okay with that. And you were okay that Donghyuck is okay with that, too. He doesn’t push you to speak more (probably because he knows you most likely do not know how to say whatever you had in mind), but can be very persuasive when there’s a hint that you’re relaxed.
Lee Donghyuck is bold and charming and amiable like nobody you’ve ever known. Normally, or at least with how you’re used to, people are a little more reserved around people they just met. And culturally speaking, you didn’t expect Donghyuck to be so forward and already so comfortable hanging out with you, what more with having conversations like this.
“Don’t worry, though,” he assures. “You’ll be fine. You’re here for about six months, anyway. I promise it’ll be the best six months of your college years.”
He’s also bright like this—optimistic and kind and assuring. You’re glad Mark is friends with people like him, with Donghyuck.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you try to say, a phrase Mark taught you the other night. “Did I say that right?”
Donghyuck giggles, stopping and reaching up to ruffle your hair. “You’re absolutely adorable.”
“That, I am,” you joke back, more comfortable around him now.
“I promise,” he says. “It’ll be so good; you wouldn’t want to go back to Canada.”
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한국말 잘 못해요 (hangugmal jal moshaeyo) – I don’t speak Korean well | 죽을래 (jug-eullae) – Do you want to die?
Donghyuck turns out to be a better teacher than Lee Minho and Mark Lee combined. He gifts you a small, pocket-friendly notebook, asking you to keep it for the rest of your stay, notably commenting that the material’s size will allow you to bring it everywhere you go. Hence, the tiny, brown faux leather notebook is safely tucked between your necessities inside your bag.
The first sentence he teaches you turns out to be the most essential: I don’t speak Korean well.
Donghyuck takes you to a café called 7 Days, an entirely different vibe compared to Arcade. You don’t question Donghyuck when he puts an arm on your shoulder as you walk together inside the café, but he asks you right away when he must have felt you stiffen from the touch: “Is this okay?”
“Yes,” you answer quietly.
Donghyuck smiles warmly at you. “Here, have a look around and I’ll get you something to drink before we decide what we want to eat. I have the perfect drink for you!”
He goes before you could say anything. You look and realize that the café is not so bad. Its aesthetic is the complete opposite of what Arcade’s going for—cozy, serene, almost like a good place to study or sleep in, whatever you need to survive the day—and the Biscoff latte is bomb, you don’t think you can drink latte differently now.
Conversations with Donghyuck could, well, unfortunately, go only where your limit is. He’s fun and likes to tell a lot of stories, but it’s always interrupted with you asking what a word means and him pulling up his phone and have his translation app say it for you. He makes jokes that you regrettably do not understand, but Donghyuck doesn’t take it to the heart and only says: “By the end of the term, you’ll be saying these jokes to Mark Lee.”
Donghyuck excuses himself to go to the toilet about an hour later and allows you a few minutes by yourself, which you happily spend taking pictures of the interior of the café. You sigh when you realize you didn’t take a picture of the Biscoff latte when it was full and pretty. Someone taps you on the shoulder, and it could only be Donghyuck, so you turn with a smile.
“I forgot to take a picture of the drink—Oh.” It’s not Donghyuck. “I’m sorry, how can I help you?” you ask politely.
The man towers over you and he smiles warmly. Your cheeks flush when he does, because you probably mispronounce each syllable from that sentence. “I’m Sanha.”
You bow courteously, still have 0 idea why the man is talking to you.
“I don’t see you around often,” he says. “And I’m here, like, almost all the time unless I have a class. My dad owns the place. How do you like it so far?”
“It’s… okay,” you say. Sanha chuckles, and your face is hot you probably look like a red potato now. “I mean, not just okay, I just can’t find the words to—”
He takes Donghyuck’s seat. “I can teach you,” he offers. “We can meet up here, and—”
Donghyuck calls your name, voice firm and monotonous like never before. “It’s getting late. Mark texted me to take you home early because Chenle’s making dinner at your place.”
You look at Sanha apologetically, still unable to reply properly so you only say, “I’m sorry.”
Donghyuck doesn’t give you the chance to say anything more because he’s already helping you out of your seat, turning you around so you could start walking towards the door, pushing you until you’re out of the café.
You hear him sigh as you walk away from the café, arm around your shoulder like how you entered the place.
“Y/N, my sweet pea,” he softly says. “Please don’t to talk strangers.”
You shrug, “It’s not like I could just ignore him when he was already taking you space.”
He scoffs. “When strangers start talking to you and being all brave and upfront, you tell them: I don’t speak Korean well. Then just start hitting them with English words and exaggerate your accent. That’s how Mark Lee tries to avoid conversations with girls sometimes because he’s a loser and women make him nervous.”
“I don’t speak Korean well,” you repeat, slowly pronouncing each syllable.
“Where’s the notebook I asked you to bring everywhere?” Donghyuck asks. “Write that down.”
You nod and tell him you’d do it later. Donghyuck leads the way towards the stop just in time for the bus that’s about to leave. You and him hop in, taking the seats in the back, giggling when Donghyuck almost topples over as soon as the bus starts to move. He lets you sit by the window and starts telling you about how his sister always fights him to get the window seat and he’s never won so he naturally just gives people the said seat.
You’re nearby the next stop when you ask him: “Donghyuck, what if I tell people I don’t speak Korean well and they wouldn’t stop bothering me?”
Donghyuck looks nice in his brown, fluffy jacket, face bare, his eyeglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He looks even nice whenever he smiles like this.
“Y/N, do you know how cute you are?” An answer you don’t expect. “You’re so cute when you ask questions like this. I want to put you in my pocket.”
“Donghyuck,” you sigh, expecting a serious answer.
He reaches up to pat your head. “You won’t have to worry because we won’t let you be on your own unless you ask us to stay away. Especially me. Not me. I’ll make sure to take care of you and Mark while the two of you are here.”
You nod, still not satisfied with the answer. The Sanha situation awhile ago makes you realize how helpless you’d be if you weren’t with Mark or any of his friends. Donghyuck probably notices your dissatisfaction when he feels like you’re sulking, which you definitely are, because he chuckles and pokes your cheek to get your attention again.
“If it makes you feel better,” he says. “You could always ask them if they want to die.”
“That’s mean!” you gasp.
“Or tell them to fuck off,” he shrugs.
“Donghyuck!”
“What?” he asks. “It’s not like I don’t hear you and Mark say ‘fuck you’ to each other every day.”
You laugh at that. “Saying it in Korean hits different.”
“Right!” Donghyuck agrees. “I’ve been telling people saying fuck you in Korean has more impact than in any other language. I can say the word fuck every day.”
“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” you joke.
Donghyuck coos. “Oh, I’m so proud of you. You’re cracking jokes now.”
The bus halts at your stop, and Donghyuck helps you up by taking your hand the way he’s helping you learn the language. It’s only when you’ve reached the street to the apartment you share with Mark that you realized you’ve been holding hands all the way from the bus stop.
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저 알러지 있어요 (jeo alleoji iss-eoyo) – I’m allergic
“Do you not understand what you just did, Mark Lee?” you ask in disbelief.
It’s only a month into your stay in Seoul, and Mark does the dumbest thing ever. Mark Lee comes home with a pet cat.
There were three rules for the spring semester, three very specific and very easy rules: one, to always text each other’s location as soon as you step foot outside of the apartment (which you and him are constantly compliant about; you love Mark Lee for that); two, to never skip a class unless you’re sick (you’re only here until July; Mark decided he’s not wasting a single day in Seoul, even if it means going to classes on time and by schedule without fail); and lastly, don’t keep things you won’t be able to take back home.
Mark had said that these rules are specifically for you because rule number one ensures your safety, rule number ensures you get the real Korean education experience, and rule number three apparently ensures you’re not leaving anything important at the airport when you leave—which now you think is bullshit. The rules are more for him than you, but you love Mark Lee, and it’s not like the cat isn’t cute.
“But, Y/N,” Mark pouts. “She kept on staring at me with these eyes when Renjun was busy comparing brands of dog treats. It was like her eyes were calling me, asking me to take her home!”
The calico cat is a baby; Mark said it’s not even five months old yet. It’s the last from seven siblings, the last one to be adopted (and you think Mark is only telling you this to convince you this is a good idea. She jumps out from Mark’s lap and goes to you, staring at you first before settling herself on your lap.
“She loves you already!” Mark comments.
You sigh. “Mark. You know we can’t take her home, right? We’re leaving in like, five months.”
“Which means I have five months to convince our friends to adopt her while I’m in Canada!” he answers enthusiastically, his eyes almost sparkling with the way he’s talking. “I couldn’t just leave her there. My heart wouldn’t allow me to leave without her!”
“Fine,” you give up. “Don’t cry on me on the plane back home when we leave her.”
Mark chuckles. “I think I should be more worried about you crying on the plane back home.”
Someone knocks on your door before you can ask what he means by that. It’s Mark who stands and welcome the person, and of course, it’s Donghyuck.
It’s Saturday. Saturday means Donghyuck comes and hangs out at your place because he no longer has to work in the university library on the weekends. He’d quit, saying his big mouth isn’t fit for the library, and had asked the school administration to reassign him to another facility. Part of his scholarship is to work at least 16 hours a week in one of the university’s facilities. He’s paid, of course, but Donghyuck says he’s not paid enough to keep his mouth shut for 16 hours a week. The admin asked for a week to figure out where he’d be assigned next, so he had this entire weekend all to himself, which, to how it looks like now, he’d decided to spend with you and Mark.
Mark lets Donghyuck in. The latter’s smile falters when he sees you; he only gives you a curt nod. And it’s not like you’re expecting Donghyuck to cuddle you on the couch, alright? It’s just that, you’ve known each other for a month now, and have hung out together a handful of times—just the two of you—and he called you yesterday telling you he’d come hangout with you and Mark for the weekend, even said something about teaching you to play Apex if you have the energy for it. And it’s not like he’s obligated to come sit beside you as soon as he enters your apartment, but you’re confused when he sits on the single couch far away from you, stance uncomfortable and his face looking like he’d rather be elsewhere.
Mark’s voice fades away when he asks Donghyuck what their plans are, to which Donghyuck answers: “I’m actually just here to say hi. I’m leaving in a bit.”
“No way,” Mark protests.
“Or we could go out?” Donghyuck offers.
“Uh-uh,” Mark refuses. “Y/N has been excited all morning to see you. You’re not going to disappoint her today.”
“I didn’t say anything—” You try to say, but couldn’t translate what you want to say quick enough. “Donghyuck obviously doesn’t want to be here.”
Over the course of a month living in Seoul, you and Donghyuck had grown closer more than anyone. It would be ridiculous to deny Donghyuck’s seemingly unceasing affection towards you, and in the same manner, it would be a lie if you’d say you’re not enjoying all the attention he’s been giving you. Above the flirty and friendly advances he makes (but never crossing the line), Donghyuck has grown to be a good friend. During the first couple of weeks, you would refer to him as Mark’s friend; it’s safe you say you’re friends with him now.
Donghyuck’s decided to pick you up from the college of Social Sciences, convincing Mark that his building is literally next to yours and that a ten-minute walk to Arcade with you is not going to hurt him—Mark’s been walking with you for many years anyway, he would mumble under his breath, close enough for you to hear but distant enough for you to understand what he truly means. Hence, with the growing friendship you have with him, you wonder what you had done this time.
“It’s not like that,” Donghyuck answers the question you had in mind, both hands raised in defense. You raise an eyebrow. “That.”
Donghyuck points at your lap, Mark’s unnamed cat sleeping soundly now. Oh.
“I’m allergic,” he explains. “I can’t be around one within like a five-meter radius otherwise, I would, like, you know, die.”
“You’re exaggerating,” Mark comments. “Are you really?”
“Yeah,” Donghyuck confirms. “The allergens are getting to me. My throat is starting to close up. I have to leave now.”
This startles you and Mark, the latter quickly taking the calico cat from your lap and quickly taking it to his room. You reckon the cat’s allergens are all over you so you sit as far away as you can from Donghyuck.
“It’s fine,” he assures, but he already looks like he’s choking. “It’s not that serious. They usually just give me allergic rashes and kind of triggers my asthma. So, we’re good.”
“But you have a dog!” you remark. “You never told me you’re allergic to cats!”
He chuckles, “Well, you learn something every day.”
“There are some anti-histamine tablets from the cupboard,” you point out, still seated where you are. “I probably have allergens on my hands; please go get yourself one.”
Donghyuck does what he’s told, taking one and opening the fridge to get himself a bottle of water. You tell him you’re changing your clothes and ask him to wait up, offering to go out and have a meal with him instead.
Mark knocks on your door a couple of minutes later, finding you dressed up, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Donghyuck said he’d wait outside. You look nice.”
“I know I look nice,” you say as you go back to your vanity to throw whatever you’d need for the day in your small dumpling bag, including a box of Benadryl. “You’re not coming with us because you have cat all over you.”
Mark chuckles, leaning against the doorframe. “Donghyuck literally told me the same thing. He’s growing on you,”
You only hum in response, checking your bag for the last time before walking towards the door where Mark Lee is still leaning on, the same smirk playing on his lips still plastered.
“What?” you ask.
Mark doesn’t say anything, but he raises and shows you his right hand, sticking three fingers up.
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먹었습니다 (meog-eossseubnida) - The meal was good.
Seoul National University’s library is as quiet as it can be; it’s almost scary how the only sounds you’d only hear are the faint sounds of pages being flipped and pens gliding on notepads, and the eerie echoes of the tension coming from students who are either cramming on an assignment or jumping from one subject to another in hopes of getting everything they read retained in their head.
Donghyuck used to tell you this is the exact reason why he didn’t like working at the library. It’s too quiet but too loud at the same time. You chuckle at the memory of him telling you anecdotes of his short-lived employment in the library and wonder how different it is being the soccer team’s laundry guy. He’s probably pouting all the way from the beginning of his shift until the end.
“Here,” Jung Sungchan disrupts your thoughts, keeping his voice as quiet as possible. “I found these, maybe it could help bridge the gap we’re struggling on.”
You and Sungchan are paired up for a two-week long assignment for one of your major subjects. The objective was to present a summarized and substantial report on the welfare state, and you think Sungchan must have tripped on all the bad luck in his life to have been paired up with someone who couldn’t speak Korean that well, because, well, the books they had are mostly in Korean. If speaking and understanding Korean is a struggle for you, reading the damn language is hell.
“This is a good thing,” Sungchan assures. “There are resources online that are mostly in English. We can combine everything we find and construct the report from there!”
You nod and hand over the book you’re reading before he arrived, explaining that you found a chapter that could be very helpful. The boy fires up his laptop and starts accessing the website your professor had recommended you to use.
Sat side by side, you and Sungchan study in silence, except for when he asks you to read an article for him and explain what it means. The session lasts for hours, thank God you and him didn’t have classes for the rest of the day, and within those hours of studying with Sungchan, you can’t help but notice the looks you were getting anytime someone passes by the two of you.
It’s no secret that Jung Sungchan is probably one of the most attractive men in the university. He’s tall and has skin that’s as clear as a day in summer, smile that could swoon a lot of people off their feet, broad shoulders that’s probably carrying the entire hockey team for this year’s season—and yes, it doesn’t help the fact that Jung Sungchan is the most popular jock at the moment, apparently for hard carrying the team to win last year’s trophy, ending Seoul National University’s 10-year drought and awakening the school’s love for sports back. And you think it’s quite unfair that people like him exist. Because you would expect that he’s an asshole who doesn’t care about his grades because he’s essentially SNU’s hero at the moment, but he’s not. Jung Sungchan, you learn, takes his degree in Social Sciences very seriously.
And it’s evident with the way his eyebrows are furrowed as he reads the tenth book he found from the shelves.
“I think this part makes more sense now,” he points out, leaning closer so he could show you the article he’s reading. “In residual regimes, welfare-seeking units are primarily family and market. On the other hand, in the institutional welfare regime, the function of providing welfare belongs directly to the state.”
“But countries with different social conditions and lifestyles should have differed in terms of welfare states,” you argue. “We have to consider that the development of industrialization and production growth could be very different from one country to another.”
Sungchan hums. “Good point. Perhaps we can find more of that from Wilensky and Lebaux’s work. Do you have the book over there?”
You nod and hand him the book. Just as Sungchan flips the book open, Mark occupies the seat across you.
“We’ve been calling you,” Mark whispers to you, then turning to look at Sungchan. “Hey, man. Mark. Y/N’s best friend.”
Sungchan gives him a polite nod before going back to the book. You raise an eyebrow at Mark and slip your phone from the pocket of your backpack and find all the missed calls from him, Renjun, and Donghyuck.
“My phone’s been on silent for like, I don’t know, four hours,” you tell him, slipping your phone back to your back. “And I texted you I’d be at the library.”
“Yeah, like four hours ago,” he answers. “I didn’t think you’d really stay here for four hours. Anyway—” Mark pulls out a lunch bag and slides it across the table. “Donghyuck made this for you. He figured you’d be hungry.”
It’s only then that it hit you. The last meal you had was that bagel you had for breakfast on the way to school, which you had seven or eight hours ago.
“My sweet Donghyuckie,” you coo, thankful for his thoughtfulness. “Thanks, Mark. Sungchan and I will share because we’ll be here until we finish at least the structure of the report.”
“It’s getting late though,” Mark points out.
Sungchan clears his throat. “I can drive you home.”
“Great!” Mark exclaims, which earns him multiple shushes from the other students studying. “Sorry. Great!” he says again, in a whisper this time.
Mark bids goodbye to you and offers a handshake to Sungchan, telling him he’ll see him often in the next two weeks or for as long as you and him are paired-up on your major subjects. Sungchan gives him one last assurance you’ll be home safe.
You ask Sungchan to take a break and open the lunch bag. Inside it are two bento boxes full of food, too much for one person, and you don’t take another minute to wait. Sungchan must have been hungry too, because he doesn’t refuse when you offer the other half of your meal to him.
You’re not really sure how much longer you and Sungchan stay in the library, but as soon as you’ve finalized the structure of the report and have agreed on assigned topics, he suggests that you and him go home and meet up again on Friday so you can start assembling the presentation. And as promised, Sungchan drives you home, glad when he realized your apartment is only ten minutes away from his.
It’s already ten in the evening when you reach home. Mark’s probably already sleeping, you think when you don’t see any light peaking from smallest of the small space between his door and the floor. It’s late anyway, and you don’t really have much energy to tell him about your day like you always do. In fact, you don’t even have the energy to shower anymore, and because you don’t like sleeping on your bed with your outside clothes, you opt to sleep on the couch tonight.
The last thing you do is shoot Donghyuck a text message: “The meal was good.”
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삼각관계 (sam-gak-kwan-gae) – love triangle
Jung Sungchan invites you watch to one of his preliminary games the day after you completed the report with him. Mark teasingly tells you that you have boys wrapped around your finger not even two months living in Seoul. You deny the claims, of course, because Sungchan is nothing but a good friend and you don’t see him as anything more.
Donghyuck is the first person you think of when Sungchan gives you two spare tickets for the game, and you like to think that it’s only because you don’t want Mark teasing you and accusing you of romance all afternoon, and also because Donghyuck has a car and Mark is a shit navigator so you can’t trust him to commute with you from the university to the indoor arena where the game is being held.
SNU’s team wins, of course, and you proudly cheer for Sungchan, which earns you a side eye from Donghyuck. You shrug it off and pretend that you didn’t see.
“Can we go now?” Donghyuck asks, bored, when people start leaving the arena.
You shake your head. “Sungchan asked me to wait for him after the game.”
“You know that barbecue place I told you we’d go to?” Donghyuck reminds. “We can go there—“
Your phone rings. It’s Sungchan. Donghyuck sighs.
“Congratulations, nerd!” is the first thing you tell him. Sungchan thanks you, laughing from the other end of the call, and apologizes that he can no longer meet you because the team’s been hogging him the second they won the round.
“It’s fine,” you assure. “I’m with Donghyuck, anyway. I’ll see you at school?”
“No, no,” Sungchan answers. “There’s a small celebration party at Shotaro’s house. It’s a twenty to thirty-minute drive from your apartment. I’ll send you the location. Go there.”
Sungchan hangs up, and not even a second later, you receive a text from him, a location pinned on the message. You show the message and pout at Donghyuck, and he’s looking at you all bored, rolling his eyes, before nodding and taking your hand so you and him could leave the arena.
The drive to the place takes about an hour from the arena, and you spend it singing along to Michael Jackson’s songs.
“You have a really nice voice,” you comment. Donghyuck laughs.
“Baby,” he says. “I wouldn’t be pursuing a career in music if I had a shitty voice.”
The nickname gives you a flush, and you could only hope Donghyuck wouldn’t notice.
Almost two months into meeting Lee Donghyuck, you find yourself unable to keep your heartbeat down whenever he does things like this—calling you nicknames, randomly showing up in places where you are just to say hi, holding your hand, texting and calling you every day, spending his weekends and times off with you, and doing simple and domestic things for you—and your heart tells you it’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with a whirlwind romance in Seoul. Donghyuck doesn’t ever hesitate, and the fact that you’re holding back means you really like him. But the rational part of you says it’s not really a good idea to be in a situationship with someone who will most likely forget you as soon as you go back to Canada, and you can’t afford a heartache from miles away. Besides, Donghyuck probably isn’t that serious with whatever that’s going on.
Rumors say (by rumors, you mean Chenle and Jisung) that Donghyuck is the type of guy who dates one girl after another. Because he’s bold and charming and amiable and likes to expand his choices, and he finds that there’s nothing wrong with dating as long as he doesn’t date multiple women at the same time. You haven’t really seen him out on a date since you had met him. Rumor (Chenle) says that he’s been single since fall of last year and had committed to stay single this year because of the messy breakup and also because he’s on his last year of college, he’d need to focus on stepping up his game if he wants entertainment companies to fight over him as soon as he starts looking for agencies after graduation. Another rumor (Jisung) says he’s rejected many women who have tried to sleep with him since news broke that Lee Donghyuck is newly single. The rumor says he’s as popular as Jung Sungchan when it comes to women, which, if you’re being honest, gives you some kind of pedestal to walk hand-in-hand with him in the university grounds. You realize now that you get the same look from women when you’re with Donghyuck like the stares you got whenever you and Sungchan are stuck in the library for hours of studying.
The only difference is that, well, you like that people stare at you with a hint of jealousy whenever you’re with Donghyuck.
“Why haven’t you invited me to your gigs?” you ask before you could even think about it. “Sungchan’s only been friends with me for like three weeks and he already got me tickets to his game. You, on the other hand…”
The car halts to a slow stop, Donghyuck’s phone telling you that you’ve arrived at your location. Donghyuck doesn’t switch off the engine though. He chuckles licking his lips, then poking his tongue on his cheeks, fucking with your heart and hormones in the process. He keeps his hand on the steering wheel and turns to look at you, eyes hazed in attraction like he’s pulling you in.
“Baby,” he says in a whisper almost. “I don’t like love triangles.”
“Love… triangles?” you repeat.
“Love triangles,” he says in English. “I fucking hate it. And we’re not about to go through that trope in our love story here. So, let me make it clear before we go inside and before you even think about sticking to Sungchan all night.”
You gulp.
“There’s no Sungchan in the equation,” he states like a command and you find yourself nodding, agreeing. “It’s only you and me. Tonight, there will be a lot of people and none of them will be in the equation. Tonight, you’re sticking with me and we’ll talk about this tomorrow. Have fun with me and see if you want to take this to another level, because if you ask me, I’ve been dying to fucking kiss you since the semester began.”
This territory is new, and this Donghyuck is new, too. He’s always been affectionate and he’s never held back, but this new level of honesty is astonishing. Damn attractive if you’re being honest.
“Come here,” he says, ridding himself from his seatbelt. You do the same, leaning closer to him. Donghyuck holds your cheeks with both hands, smiling down at you before leaning in to kiss your forehead. “I’m not giving you mixed signals. This is me giving you a clear, direct sign that I like you and I like what we have, but I’d love to take another step. I’ve been thinking about it, and I don’t really want someone to enter the equation while I’m trying to woo you.”
You giggle. “You already successfully wooed the romance out of me the second you started holding my hand, Lee Donghyuck. And no, there won’t be love triangles.”
Donghyuck’s honesty fires up some courage in you, and you like the feeling of watching him falter when you lean in, hand on the back of his neck, and kiss him for the first time. The man melts in your kiss and in your touch, but doesn’t wait for another heartbeat to kiss you back. And despite of the bottled-up and eagerness from both sides, the first kiss is soft the first time, featherlike and sweet. His lips are even softer than they look and his lips already look plump as it is, and when Donghyuck licks your lips and invites himself in, God, he makes sure you taste the sweetness from his mouth and in a minute you’re addicted and you kiss and kiss and kiss, lips locking, tongue gliding, breaths gasping.
It’s him who pulls away, leaving you with dazed eyes wanting, wanting, wanting more.
Donghyuck gives you one last kiss on the forehead. “Let’s go.”
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이렇게? (ireoke) – Like this?
You don’t end up seeing Sungchan at all in the party, and you don’t mind because Donghyuck keeps you glued to his side. The party is fun, but you and Donghyuck decide not to drink a single drop of alcohol. To him, it’s because he has to drive. To you, it’s because you want to be entirely sober to remember whatever happens tonight.
Donghyuck makes out with you in the corner of the living room where people are crumpled, and you like that he doesn’t care that people see. He holds you by the waist and on your neck, and you get it now. You get why women are lining up to sleep with Donghyuck, because if he can kiss like this, what else can he do with his mouth?
You shoot a message to Sungchan with a selfie of you and Donghyuck, thanking him for inviting you to the party and telling him you’ll see him on your next class together (Donghyucks suggests you send Sungchan a picture of you and him making out.) and prompt to leave. Donghyuck says goodbye to a few people he knew, holding you by the waist all the way from the house to where his car is parked.
Donghyuck drives you to his apartment and tells you he’s told Mark you’d be sleeping at his place tonight. The drive itself was intense enough and Donghyuck’s doing an amazing job keeping his cool while you’re practically sweating from the passenger’s seat.
You don’t even get a good look at his apartment when you arrive, because Donghyuck’s already kissing you as he rids himself of his jacket. Donghyuck doesn’t kiss you softly this time; he kisses you like he’s leaving a mark on your mouth, almost like he wants to bruise his presence inside you. He helps you get slip out of your jacket, pulling away quickly to kick his shoes off, before carrying you bridal style and bringing you to his room, kicking the door behind.
Despite the roughness of his kisses, he puts you to bed gently, ridding himself of his shirt and kneeling on the floor so he could help you out of your socks. He leans up once he’s done, one hand on your jaw to pull you down for another kiss, the other caressing your thigh.
“Please tell me this is okay,” he whispers. You nod. “I need your words, baby.”
“Yes, Donghyuck,” you answer, breathless when he starts kissing your neck. “This is okay. Please touch me.”
Donghyuck pushes you a little so half of your body is lying on his bed, your feet flat on his carpeted floor, tugging the loops of your jeans, urging you to lift your hips so he can rid you out of the material. He pulls you back up to take your shirt off from your torso, then he’s helping you back up from the edge of the bed towards the headboard as he crawls on top of you.
“Donghyuck,” you gasp when he goes back to kissing you. You realize that Donghyuck like kissing with the way he’s using his mouth to imprint his presence in you, his tongue licking everywhere it can reach inside your mouth, and he tastes like mint and the soda he had at the party, and he’s everything that you want. “Touch me, please.”
“Like this?” Donghyuck reaches down to rub your clit through the material of your underwear. He rubs slow, teasingly, and kisses you on the mouth when you groan. He dips his head lower and kisses your neck; he bites and nips and sucks and you’re sure it’s leaving a mark you’d have to conceal the next day. “Want me to touch you like this, baby?”
A moan elicits from your throat, and Donghyuck doesn’t waste any more time. He slips his warm hand between your skin and your underwear, really touching you, rubbing your clit gently, his digits dragging itself on your slit slowly, gathering your wetness then going back to rub your clit again, more roughly with the pool of wetness his fingers have now.
“Like this?” he asks again, pushing a finger inside when he finds your hole, urging another moan from your lips.
“Oh my God, Donghyuck,” you gasp when he fingers you gently, your wetness making a sound when he adds another finger. Donghyuck takes his time, biting his lips as he watches you writhe underneath his touch.
“Pull your bra down,” he breathes out, and you do. When your breasts are out on the open, Donghyuck doesn’t waste time and locks lips with your nipple, sucking and licking as he fingers the sanity out of you. He alternates from fingering you with two digits and rubbing you using his thumb, and you’re all putty and messy under him, and you want more, more, more, more.
“Baby, please fuck me,” you beg. “Please, Donghyuck. Please fuck me”
Donghyuck hushes you. “I will, baby. I’ll fuck you so well, you’ll come running back to me tomorrow and the day after, and the day after.”
But he doesn’t. He pulls his fingers out, hold you by your jaw so you could lock eyes while he licks the proof of your attraction to him from his fingers, sucking and showing you just how well he could use his tongue. He doesn’t fuck you get but he rids you of the last garments from your body and does the fucking impossible.
Donghyuck eats you out like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have. He swirls his tongue on your clit as he pushes his digits back in your hole, fingering you like it’s all he’s ever wanted, and he’s got you chanting his name like a prayer when his tongue laps your sex, even more when he replaces his fingers with his tongue. You’re writhing and screaming and Donghyuck’s holding your legs apart while he pleasures you with his mouth and hands.
You don’t want to cum yet, but Donghyuck’s so, so good, and it looks like he’s not stopping anytime soon. He tongues you back to your clit and fingers you with three digits, fast and rough.
“Donghyuck, I’m going to—” You see white and stars and you stay still when Donghyuck continues fingering you, moving all three fingers in an upward motion, reaching where you want him the most, mouth sucking your clit as you ride the first orgasm you’ve had in months.
Donghyuck lets you have your moment when it’s done, taking the time to lick the slick wetness from his fingers down to his wrist, kneeling between your legs. You push yourself up so that you’re sitting with your legs wide open, your palms flat on his sheets, head tilted for a kiss. Donghyuck leans over and kisses you again, and you never thought you’d like tasting yourself in his tongue. You guess everything tastes sweeter when it’s in Donghyuck’s mouth.
“Off, please,” you murmur, pulling the loops from his jeans. Donghyuck obeys, removing all pieces of clothing until he’s naked.
You marvel at his beauty, licking your lips when you finally see him bare and clean. His golden skin looks like honey and you want to kiss the fuck out of his collarbones and leave your mark for everyone to see. Your eyes travel from his chest down to the trail from his tummy down to his erect cock. He’s hard and red and you salivate from how big he looks and feel yourself getting even more wet at the thought of him fucking you. Before you know it, you’re reaching out, moving so you could kneel, and taking his hardness in your hand. Donghyuck moans for the first time tonight, and you plan to elicit that sound from him all night.
Stroking him slowly, you feel a rush of satisfaction when Donghyuck pants your name. “Oh my God,” he moans when you bend over, a palm flat on his sheets, your other hand stroking him as you take him to your mouth. He gathers your hair and watches you from above, and you purposely stick your ass up higher when you feel him twitch as you take more of his cock into your mouth. When you’re about halfway, you stroke the rest of what you can’t take and start sucking and licking, and Donghyuck makes the absolute best sound ever. You like his voice when he sings, but you don’t think anything could compare with how he’s whining your name as you suck his dick thoroughly, licking and jerking off whatever your mouth couldn’t fit. A part of you wants to ask Donghyuck to fuck your mouth, bruise your throat with his dick and cum straight down your fucking stomach if he wants to, but that could be arranged next time. This time, with his dick hard and wet from your mouth, you want him to fuck you.
You suck him one last time before you pull away, a string of your saliva following when you look up at Donghyuck. “Now, will you fuck me?”
Donghyuck looks fucked out, eyes dazed with lust, and you want nothing more than for him to ruin you. And Donghyuck doesn’t need to be asked twice.
He crawls back up until you’re lying on your back, legs wide open for him, and kneels between your legs. “Ready and sure?” he asks for the last time, stroking himself.
“Pull out when you cum,” is all you say and Donghyuck goes for it. He gives you a kiss and rests one of his forearms beside your arm, massaging the head of his cock on your opening until he’s stretching you out.
“Fuck,” Donghyuck groans when he feels your tightness. “God damn, Y/N, when was the last time you got fucked?”
“I—I can’t remember,” you say. “None of them were worth remembering.”
“And me?” Donghyuck asks as he pushes deeper until he’s fully stretched you and his pelvis is leaning against your clit. “Will you remember me?”
“Ask me next time,” you breathe out. “I think you’ll have to fuck me every day so I can remember.”
Donghyuck gives you some time, kissing you softly. “When was the last time you fucked anyone?” you ask in return.
“I can’t remember,” he parrots. “None of them were worth remembering. All I know is that this is the first time I’m feeling someone raw.” Then he bottoms out, gives you only half a second before he’s thrusting back and out and back and out and back and out, slowly but surely fucking you well.
Donghyuck fucks you like he means it. His hips snap roughly but makes sure you feel all of him before he thrusts out and he’s everywhere. His tongue is in your mouth, then on your neck, his free hand is caressing one of your breasts, playing with your nipples, and he’s making you feel so, so good and you’re not sure how you go back from here. You’re not sure how you could go on with life knowing how well Donghyuck can fuck you. He’s got you squirming and reaching your second orgasm only minutes into fucking the life out of you.
When you’re close, Donghyuck pushes himself up so that he’s kneeling again, and lifts both your legs, resting your calves on either side of his shoulders, hugging your legs so he can fuck you deeper in this angle. The precision makes you chant his name over and over again and he takes one of his hands down to rub your clit. You try your best to hold back from cumming because the way he’s fucking you now feels so damn good that you want it to last for a long time. He thrusts in and out quickly, his balls hitting the bottom of your ass again and again.
“Come for me, baby,” he says. “Let go.”
So, you do, and Donghyuck keeps on fucking you through it. Donghyuck lets you finish, before he’s pushing the back of your knees down so your thighs are pressed up against your stomach, chasing his own orgasm, and fucks you hard, without rhythm, until he is moaning your name like praise and he’s pulling out so he could release on your stomach. You reach up to caress his cheek as you watch him in awe as he finishes, his face contorted in pleasure, lips wet and eyes closed.
When it’s done, Donghyuck kisses you on the forehead and helps you clean up. He leaves to go to the bathroom for a minute to grab a warm, wet towel, cleaning your stomach, and carries you back to the bathroom with him. The shower is warm, and Donghyuck is gentle and sweet when he cleans you up, giving you kisses when he pats you dry once he’s gotten rid of the shampoo and body wash from your hair and skin. Donghyuck tells you there’s a spare toothbrush on behind the mirror and washes himself as you brush your teeth, naked but warm.
Donghyuck tells you to that the right side of his closet is where you can find the clothes he uses at home and you follow as he finishes cleaning himself up. You take the liberty to take one of his shirts that are still too big for you despite Donghyuck’s frame and slip a pair of cotton shorts.
Donghyuck finds you half-asleep when he’s done showering; he sleeps shirtless, you reckon, because he crawls to bed only in sweatpants. He cuddles you from behind, kissing the clothed shoulder, and the last thing you hear before you drift off to sleep is him humming a song your mind can’t recognize and a promise that you’ll talk about this the next day.
You wake up to the smell of Spam, an empty space beside yours, and the sound of Donghyuck singing a song from BOL4, which you learned is one of his favorite musicians.
Donghyuck smiles warmly at you when you find him in the kitchen, just about to finish pan-frying the last piece of sliced luncheon meat. He’s still shirtless, but is wearing a cute pink apron, and he gives you a quick kiss on the lips like it’s the most natural thing ever. The second his lips pull away from yours, you reach up and touch where he kissed, lips tingling—in disbelief that what happened last night is real.
“Good morning,” he hums. “Just in time for breakfast.”
“Donghyuck,” you trail off. “Can we talk first?”
Donghyuck nods, offering that you sit on the high stool across the small kitchen island. He sits next to you, turning the seat so that you’re face to face, knees touching. “What do we want to do?” he asks.
“You know I’m leaving in like, four months, right?” you start.
Donghyuck whistles. “We just started and you’re already breaking up with me?”
“No, no,” you say, exhaling. “This… this. I like. You. I like.”
“Baby, construct your sentences properly,” he laughs.
“I like you,” you confess. “And I like this. I like holding your hands. And kissing you. And what we did last night. I’m just worried because—”
“Because you’re leaving,” he finishes for you. “I know, but I also like you a lot. More than you probably think. And I don’t want to miss my chance getting to know you more just because you’re leaving in a few months. I don’t know what you want, but here’s what I want, you let me know if it works for you, if not, then I’ll still be a friend. Who might cry for two weeks straight if you reject me.”
You laugh but urge him to continue.
“I want to date you, and get to know you even more. Your quirks, the things that make you angry, your comfort food, the movies that give you the ick,” he continues. “Your family, how you were raised, if you like Marvel or DC more, what Hogwarts house you belong to, if you like pineapple in pizza or not, whether you pour milk or cereal first, if you ever kissed Mark Lee, if Mark Lee’s ever had a crush on you.”
“What does Mark have—”
“Shh,” he stops. “It’s my turn. Talk later. Anyway, I want this—” he gestures the space between you and him. “And I want you. I want to keep teaching you the language and I know what’s ahead of us is scary, and there’s only two things that could happen: this is going to be either the biggest heartbreak of my life or you’re going to be the greatest love of my life. It’s a fifty-fifty chance, Y/N. Let’s just say I’m willing to risk whatever if it means I have 50% the chances of having you as the greatest love of my life.”
Oh. You don’t realize you’re staring quietly until Donghyuck holds your hand.
“Now tell me,” he asks slowly. “What do you want?”
You don’t hesitate. “I want you, Lee Donghyuck.”
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일어날 수 있는 최악의 상황은 무엇입니까? il-eonal su issneun choeag-ui sanghwang-eun mueos-ibnikka? What’s the worst that could happen?
It doesn’t come out as a surprise to anyone when you and Donghyuck arrive at Arcade holding hands, a shy smile playing on your lips, a proud one in Donghyuck’s. You were thankful that there were no teasing remarks coming from your friends—that they were taking this so well, like it’s normal. Like it’s meant to happen anyway. There’s a knowing smirk on Mark’s stupid face, but you love him and you can’t wait to tell him all about how you feel towards Donghyuck. “Okay, so my birthday falls on a weekend,” Jeno announces. “And I think it’s the best time to go to the amusement park. Will you have work then, Renjun-ah?”
“Most likely,” Renjun answers, mouth full of food as he chews on a bite of pizza. “But I can have Yerim cover for me. I’ll just return the favor if she needs me one day.”
“Sweet!” Jeno exclaims. “So, it’s decided then. We’ll go to the amusement park on my birthday.”
As you and Donghyuck play footsie under the table, Mark stands, turning to you. “I’m going to get another milkshake. Come with me?”
You nod, kicking Donghyuck one last time and standing to follow your best friend. Somehow, you feel bad for not saying anything about your growing feelings for Donghyuck, considering that Mark is your best friend in the entire universe and you’re his. If it were him, he would’ve told you the second he caught feelings to anyone. But Mark knows you’re not the kind to admit feelings like this as soon as it starts inflating in your chest; he knows you’re the type to hold it in until you can’t anymore. Having had terrible relationships in the past, Mark has always known that you’re the kind to be careful.
“I didn’t think you’d actually go for it,” Mark says as soon as you and him are out of earshot. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy for you. I just didn’t expect this to happen so quickly.”
“Me neither,” you mumble under your breath. “Sorry for not saying anything.”
Mark chuckles. “You didn’t have to. I mean, we all kinda always known this would happen. I just couldn’t imagine how you and Donghyuck sealed it so quickly, like considering how shy and quiet you always were whenever he was around.”
“I was shy and quiet with everyone around,” you remark. “Donghyuck taught me all these slangs and now I can’t stop talking.”
The woman in the counter asks you what she can help you with when you reach her. Mark tells his order alongside some sides Renjun had asked him to get. He leans on the counter, turning back to you. “Anyway.”
“Yeah?”
“I think you’re serious serious.” Mark clears his throat. “Like, I’ve known you for so long and you’ve always been hesitant to do shit. I’ve always been the spontaneous and reckless one between us, and you’re the careful one. The one who thinks everything through before deciding on it—this trip to Seoul included on the long list.”
“Your point is?” you ask, even though you know exactly where this is going.
Mark licks his lips before continuing: “What I’m saying is, you’ve never been this certain so quickly.”
That’s right. Not to be cliché or whatever, but this is normally how it goes for you. Relationships used to be difficult for you—from the pining to the confession to its climax to its end, until the bargaining and acceptance—and you’d never been the type to go through things so quickly and easily. With Donghyuck, you’d somehow done it backwards (and Mark doesn’t need to know that you slept with Donghyuck before you even sealed the damn relationship) but for some reason, you had forgotten how you’re supposed to act around people you like romantically. It scares the shit out of you, the connection between you and Donghyuck, but you’ve always been a firm believer that if it doesn’t scare you, it probably isn’t something worth doing. It feels like jumping from a cliff, to the bottom of the unknown, and it’s new, but it makes your heart pound like never before.
“I don’t want to get ahead and say something that’d make you change your mind somehow, because I also like you and Donghyuck together,” he explains when you only stare at him. “But, as your best friend, with the best intentions only, please don’t go breaking your heart before we leave, yeah?”
You nod, understanding and appreciating Mark’s sentiment. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
Mark shrugs. “We won’t really know. Take care, yeah?”
You smile stepping closer to hug Mark. “I love you, you know that, right?” he asks. You nod, your face buried on his chest. “Good. I’ll beat Donghyuck’s ass if he hurts you in anyway.”
“I sure hope you do,” you reply, just in time for the staff to call Mark’s attention, the tray of his order ready for him.
Donghyuck is pouting when you return, asking why you and Mark took too long because the seat beside him is all cold now. You kiss him on the cheek and tell him Mark just told you he’s beating his ass if you’re hurt in anyway.
“Mark can’t hurt a fly,” Donghyuck remarks. “What makes you think he can hurt me, huh?”
Mark scoffs. “You’ll be the first.”
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계절과 계절 사이 (gyejeolgwa gyejeol sai) – between seasons
When the seasons start to change—from the rainy, cold spring transition to a warm, sunny summer—you and Donghyuck change, too.
From the euphoric blooming of your relationship—the playful dates, the passionate moments in his bedroom (because ever since Mark adopted that cat, Donghyuck could never stay at your place for longer than an hour), the heart-warming feeling of seeing him waiting for your after your class—to the warm, comfortable attachment stage, you feel like you know Donghyuck in a deeper sense now.
The small notebook he’d given you at the beginning of the term is halfway full, its pages messily scribbled with phrase and sentences you had learned—likewise the memories those words carry—and soon enough you find yourself more comfortable with the language, and eventually with Seoul. You find yourself enjoying, and not in a way that makes you think you’d want to visit again soon.
The journey with Seoul was initially a play to learn the language and its beautiful culture: a detour. A diversion from your plans. A stop while you figure out what you want in life. Your last year in university is supposed to be the year you finally decide what to do next. Visiting Seoul was an opportunity for you to really get to know yourself beyond your comfort zone, to really challenge your capabilities, to learn beyond what your hometown had in store for you.
But these days do not feel like Seoul is a place to visit.
In a way, liberating albeit frightening, you find yourself thinking that perhaps Seoul is a place to build a home in. The home is built from arms that hold you on days when it’s extra cold, your nose red and hands frozen, and its shelter is made from Donghyuck’s warm smile and the assurance of him being there for you. And right now, while you sit closely together at the back of your friend’s car, their obnoxiously loud voices singing to some pop song along the radio, you feel it: home.
Jeno likes the phone case you had customized for him, and he gives you a big, bear hug as soon as he take a peek of what’s inside your present.
“I love you. I literally love you with all my being,” he dramatically says as he squishes you.
“That’s my girlfriend, you idiot,” Donghyuck complains, pulling Jeno’s arms away from you. With the way you three are seated at the back of Renjun’s car, you sitting in between them, it’s uncomfortable and Donghyuck insists on taking part of the little moment you’re having with Jeno.
Jeno whines, “Let me love her. This is the best gift ever!”
Donghyuck ends up puffing air out of his mouth, pouting and leaning back so Jeno could hug you. You’re laughing and Jeno whispers how easily they could make him sulk these days because you’re around.
Mark, who’s sitting on the passenger seat beside Renjun, announces you’ve arrived at the amusement park, just as Jaemin’s car halts to a slow stop behind you.
It’s the first time you’ve ever visited the famous amusement park in Seoul, and Mark looks excited with the way he’s jumping as you line up for the tickets. Donghyuck has his arm around you, taking pictures with his other hand. The rest are chattering, talking about the rides they’d love to try.
The secretly group decides to stick together for the entire day to celebrate Jeno’s day, despite the birthday boy himself telling everyone they can go wherever they want to. You could see how much they really care about one another and they all just hide it in their mean, vile jokes. For example, the man who has his arm wrapped around you likes teasing Jeno like it’s his full-time job, but is hiding a birthday present inside the trunk of Renjun’s car (and would most likely give it before you all head home, act like his best friend’s birthday isn’t that much of a big deal).
Most of the day is spent following Jeno around, whatever ride he wanted to try and your ears ringing because of how loud Donghyuck is screaming. The temperature has gone from freezing cold to warm, the humidity making it a little harder for everybody to move around under the warmth of the sun.
“I never realized how much of a scaredy cat you are, Donghyuckie,” you tease as soon as you walk out of the roller coaster ride. “Not much of a tough guy now, huh?”
Donghyuck whines, “I liked you better when the words you spoke were only yes and no.”
Mark laughs, slapping Donghyuck on the back. “Oh man, that was really good.”
“Yeah?” You rebut. “And I liked you better when you weren’t screaming like a kid.”
Donghyuck smirks, “And I like you better when you’re screaming my name.”
Renjun and Jisung cough in disgust, and Mark just straight up slapped the back of Donghyuck’s head. “You two are disgusting. I can’t believe I live with you, Y/N.”
Donghyuck laughs, turning to you. “It’s pretty hot. Want me to go grab you a can of soda? Ice cold water?”
“Water, please,” you say. Donghyuck nods and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling Chenle with him and walking to the opposite side where a small shop is. In the meantime, the rest of you occupy the benches under a shade, Jeno asking which ride to go next.
Donghyuck and Chenle return in a matter of time, bottles of drinks in their hands. They give everyone their preferred drinks, Donghyuck sitting beside Mark and extending an arm so he could hand you your drink from his side.
“Fucking summer,” Donghyuck curses. “I hate summer.”
Renjun raises an eyebrow. “Suddenly?”
“It’s not even summer yet,” Jaemin points out. “What happened to you? You’ve always been so excited about summer.”
“It’s so hot. I can’t stand this fucking temperature,” Donghyuck mumbles.
Renjun scoffs. “You start planning our summer getaway as early as March.”
“It’s already April and you have nothing yet,” Jisung points out.
“Yeah, what the hell, man. I hate your ridiculous ideas, but we can’t survive summer without you,” Jeno adds, then looks at Mark. “Yo, Mark, what about you? What are you doing this summer?”
You and Mark freeze, looking at each other for a second, before the latter speaks for you both: “We’re, uh, we’re supposed to go home.”
It seems like Jeno didn’t know the weight of his question because he apologizes as soon as he realizes it. The group falls into silence, no one says anything, or perhaps nobody could think of anything to say, not even you or Mark.
With your days in Seoul numbered, you realize now that you haven’t really talked about it—not you and Mark, not you and Donghyuck—and it never really felt real. You had always told yourself you’ll cross the bridge when you get there, and the bridge is nearby.
Donghyuck clears his throat. “The sun’s going to kill me. I think I saw a burger joint that has an air-conditioning system down the corner of that street. Shall we go there?”
Everybody agrees and stand to leave. Donghyuck holds your hand, pulling you close and steals a kiss on your cheek. The gesture makes your heart flutter. Donghyuck is warm, but not in the way the sun is hot right now—in a way that gets you thinking: can this warmth reach Vancouver?
Your skin hurts when the sunlight hits you. You hate summer.
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 오해 하지마 (ohae hajima) – Don’t misunderstand
Donghyuck had a face that looked like what an artist would draw in a whim—spontaneously—like it was done in a rush, like a portrait from a park done by a street artist, something done with a pencil. Ink stains are harder to wash off, and anyway, figments aren’t mean to last—and he’s almost unrecognizable in this light.
You can’t recognize him on the night of his birthday.
His Mother had gone above and beyond and invited all of their closest relatives and family friends for his 23rd birthday, and it’s also your first time meeting them.
It’s nerve-wracking to say the least, but his Mother smiles at you kindly when she greets you from the entrance of the restaurant they rented for the evening. You could tell his family was wealthy, and it makes sense because Donghyuck got the most bare minimum job he could find, and it’s most likely because he doesn’t need to get one; he probably only got one so he could talk about work, too, just like the rest of his friends.
The birthday party is a surprise and it was Renjun who connected with everyone to make sure they attend here tonight. You had to make up some excuse to Donghyuck when he asked why you can’t join him for dinner with his family tonight and had promised to make it up to him the day after.
You’re sat in the same table as Mark, Renjun, Jeno, and Jaemin, a bit far away from Donghyuck’s family’s table, as you wait for the birthday boy, your present sitting on top of the round table. Mark talks about his cat, letting Jaemin watch snippets of his pet from his phone, and Renjun is narrating a story about his “ridiculous and absurd encounter with Liu Yangyang (and you and Jeno can’t pass up the opportunity to tease him about it).
Then, someone comes sit beside Jaemin, the boys gasping when they see her.
Karina is beautiful, and even saying that isn’t enough to describe the woman’s beauty. Soft-spoken and brilliant, Karina naturally allows everyone to gravitate towards her. All, including yourself, are pulled like magnet when she arrived. Jeno introduces you and you allow yourself to throw a quick and inaudible “hello” when she reaches over and asks you how you are.
Donghyuck’s Mother almost screams when she sees Karina, excitement filling up the air as she hugs her and thanks her for attending.
“I wouldn’t miss Hyuckie’s birthday for the world, eommoni,” Karina answers, and before you could ask Renjun how she’s related to Donghyuck, Jisung, who’s seated in another table with Donghyuck’s younger siblings, announces that the birthday man himself has arrived.
Donghyuck enters the hall, surprised and happy when he sees everyone, a dramatic cry leaving his lips as everyone greets him happy birthday. He feigns complaint, whining that he’s no longer eight years old, but hugs his parents anyway.
His parents thank everyone for joining a precious day and celebrating their eldest son’s birthday with them. Donghyuck bows and starts to go around to thank people.
You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he finally reaches your table and he gives you small smile, hugging you quickly before moving on to the next person. You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he goes to Karina, lifting her as he hugs her tightly, and thanking her for being able to come. You don’t recognize Donghyuck when his Mother joins the little reunion and he laughs when his Mother jokes about them missing each other too much.
“She’s the one who left me all alone here in Seoul,” Donghyuck pouts. “We wouldn’t have missed each other this much if you had stayed!”
“Don’t be such a drama queen, Hyuckie,” Karina says, rolling her eyes. “You visited me in Tokyo literally six months ago.”
Six months ago, which means, it was right before you arrived in Seoul.
You want to be anywhere else but here, and you don’t want to listen any further, but the scenario runs like a comedy show and the punch line is you.
“You two better decide whatever the hell you want to do with your lives by the end of the year,” Donghyuck’s Mother comments. “I mean, no one’s stopping you from moving to Tokyo, Donghyuck. You and Karina can rekindle whatever light was burnt last year. I’m glad you stayed best of friends despite the long distance. You’ve always made a great couple.”
Your breath hitches like your lungs had just been punch. Donghyuck, it seems, finally remembers you’re watching this unfold. Mark holds you, and bless him because your legs feel like they’re about to give up. You and Donghyuck make eye contact, but you don’t recognize him at all.
“Eomma,” Donghyuck clears his throat. Everything else he’s said come out like a blur, and Mark is just holding you close.
“Don’t misunderstand,” Renjun whispers closely. “They’re just friends.”
You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he watches you leave.
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천천히 말씀해 주세요 (chun-chun-hee mal-sseum-heh ju-seh-yo)  - Please speak slowly | 집 (jib) - home
Karina turns out to be the one that got away. The one true love. The greatest love. The childhood best friend who’s always been there. The leading woman. She turns out to be the protagonist in Donghyuck’s story.
You learn all of these from Renjun. Even when he refused to say a single word and had begged for you to talk to Donghyuck instead, you learn the truth by asking Mark to ask Renjun.
Donghyuck and Karina. Karina and Donghyuck. Two peas in a pod. A tight knit. Knowing each other like the back of their hands. A buy one, get one kind of deal. Where one is, the other would follow. And everyone and their moms know that it has always been like that, will always be like that.
Donghyuck and Karina, born on the same year, grew up in the same small village in Jeju island. Having been inseparable since, they ended up moving to Seoul together in high school. Donghyuck’s parents were supportive of Donghyuck pursuing a career in music, and they believed that moving to Seoul was the first step for their beloved son to find his spotlight. Karina’s parents, however, couldn’t afford moving alongside the Lee family despite wanting to support their daughter, too. Donghyuck begged his parents to have Karina move in with them so her parents would only worry about paying her tuition and allowances. The Lee family agreed, of course, because Donghyuck and Karina were fifteen, and they were the best team the world has ever known.
Karina is a talented dancer, and with a face like hers, it would be a shame to keep her in a small town in Jeju island. Her moving to Seoul had been the first step to her early success, because as soon as she reached puberty and had gained a butt and a pair of breasts, agencies were scouting her, creepily waiting for her outside of hers and Donghyuck’s high school. She’d declined, of course, with a promise to Donghyuck that they’d go to stardom together, but Donghyuck wanted to study and make music, and he felt as though he needed to go to college for that.
Karina eventually moved to another dormitory when she started training. Donghyuck moved downtown to start college. They were in different places, but they were still inseparable.
Pretty much every day Donghyuck would meet up with Karina when she started training; if not, then he’d be on Facetime with her during the hours when she’s not working. He had brought her to SNU many times, and they had started dating by the time Donghyuck is in his second year. All the other guys know Karina and her place in Donghyuck’s life. Somehow, a bitter part of you feels betrayed that none of them ever mentioned about Donghyuck’s great love, but you can’t really blame them for not saying anything.
They broke up on the latter months of last year because Karina had to move to Tokyo. There was no big fight apparently, just the decision that it’s most likely not going to work because—listen to this; this is the biggest punch line of this comedy show—Donghyuck can’t handle long distance.
You had answered one of Donghyuck’s calls by mistake. He’s mad for some reason, perhaps angry of the fact that you’re ignoring him and he doesn’t have much control like he normally does.
“Y/N, for fuck’s sake, why haven’t you answered?” he had cried out as soon as you answered.
“I was busy,” was all you could come up with. You brain had not been working good enough to translate things to Korean.
“What do you mean you were busy?” he had asked, voice loud and angry. “You literally disappeared on me! On my fucking birthday! And I’m done playing nice and cool because this is unfair. Whatever the fuck you’re doing is unfair you’re not letting me in. If you could just let me explain, things—”
“Please speak slowly.”
“—would be easier for the two of us. Whatever Karina and I had, it’s been over since last year. It’s over way before I met you. I never thought of her, not even for a goddamn second since we got together. I wouldn’t fucking betray you like that—”
“I can’t understand you.”
“—and I can’t believe you don’t trust me enough to let me at least tell you what happened! I never mentioned her because I never even thought about her! My Mother doesn’t know anything! I’ve wanted you to meet my Mother for a long time, but given our situation, a fucking time bomb ticking, I didn’t know if it was too early to go to that stage.”
“Time bomb?” you had asked, repeating the syllables slowly. “What’s that?”
Donghyuck sighed on the other line. “The thing that explodes at a predetermined time.”
“Oh, a time bomb,” you asked in English, chuckling. “That, we are.”
“Huh?”
“We’re a fucking time bomb,” you said, again in English, because if Donghyuck could keep talking in his mother tongue without considering if you’d understand a single word, so could you. “We’re ticking and we’re just waiting for this shit to explode. And I can’t wait and watch myself burn, Donghyuck. I can’t.”
“Please speak slowly,” he pleaded in Korean. You don’t.
“This isn’t going to work,” you responded, still in your mother tongue. “Maybe this is a clear sign for us, Donghyuck. Goodbye.”
Mark finds you crying on floor of your living, your back leaning on the feet of the couch, two weeks after Donghyuck’s birthday.
The first week, you had convinced your friends you were fine and that you just needed time. Donghyuck’s been reaching out to everybody, and Mark, being the best friend he is, lies regarding your whereabouts every time Donghyuck visits.
You don’t know how many calls Donghyuck had tried to make and how many text messages he’d left because you had completely abandoned your phone for the last couple of weeks and only relied on your computer to check any e-mails from your professors.
���I’m sorry,” Mark says, and you feel a rush of relief when he talks to you in English. You’ve had enough of Korean and Korean men these days. “It sucks, man. I don’t even know what to say. I’m so fucking disappointed with Donghyuck.”
“Shouldn’t you be more disappointed with me?” you sniffle. “I should have listened to you. We were moving too fast.”
Mark shakes his head, pulling you closer so that your head is resting on his shoulder. “I couldn’t blame you. Donghyuck’s charming, and I genuinely thought he was in love with you. I mean, I could say is, because I really think he’s sorry about everything.”
“We didn’t even get to properly break up,” you cry. “Our flight back home is in like, two weeks. I was supposed to talk to him and decide what we’d do with our relationship. For his birthday, I made a stupid mixtape that he could keep in his car and a very expensive and fucking cheesy set of touch lamps I found online for whenever he would miss me. And I keep making stupid letters like a fucking idiot so I could leave him with a bunch of poorly constructed letters just so he knows how much I’ll fucking miss him.”
Mark stays silent as you sob your heart out.
“And can you believe I actually thought it’d work?” you say, exasperated. “I’m so fucking sorry to myself. I’m just glad it’s over before I did shit I’d regret later on.””
“Shit like?” Mark asks.
You sigh, sniffling and screaming internally because the tears would stop. “I was already looking into internships here. For my last semester in college. I had already decided to decline the internship they were offering back home—thank God I haven’t sent that e-mail from my drafts—and I’ve found really good companies here. And if I’m lucky, I was thinking of moving here after college.”
Mark clicks his tongue. “All because of Donghyuck?”
“Because he feels like home, Mark,” you reason out. “He’s warm, and I can’t believe I’m admitting this now, but I love him. I love him so fucking much.”
“Oh, Y/N.”
“And we would have been happy. I would’ve done everything I could,” you confess. “And this fucking language barrier will be the death of me, but I would’ve learned more. I’d be an expert by the end of the year. And now, this whole Karina thing made me realize how much more I need to know about him.”
Mark holds you closer as though holding you would make things better. “When we were kids,” he starts. “Whenever I told you stories about how much I miss all the people I had to leave behind whenever we had to move from one country to another, one state to another, you’d always tell me to never build houses out of people.”
You remember. You always admired how Mark could move from one place to another, his suitcase and the ghost of the friendships he made following his trail, and he’s always told you about the loneliness it comes with.
“You used to tell me shelters aren’t supposed to be made of arms wrapped around you on a cold night, or hands that hold you when you’re feeling lonely,” he continues. “And I can’t blame you, because humans are known not to follow their own advice. But I hope you find home in things you’d never lose.”
You nod. “I’m sorry for breaking rule number three.”
“You’ll get over him,” he assures. “If you decide to really end things here, I mean. I’m sure you can get over him. It’s easier to get over people when you don’t see him.”
You nod, “Let’s go home, Mark.”
“Back home?”
You smile. “Yes. Back home.”
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갈망 (galmang) - longing
It’s Giselle who picks you up from the airport.
You reunite like old friends, but Giselle really didn’t change that much. Even the weather didn’t change much. The same old. You wish you could say the same to yourself.
The flight to Vancouver was the most painful ten hours of your life, both literally and figuratively. It was hard watching your friends bid you goodbye, and you could tell they were dreading your departure as much as you and Mark were. Mark assures them you and him would save up to visit them again this year and as much as you’d wanted to stay, your student visa would allow you only six months. Mark promises he’d work on a tourist visa or whatever because despite being 100% ethnically Korean, but legally, he can’t just visit whenever he wants.
The pain from your breakup with Donghyuck is nothing compared to seeing Mark leave his friends again. You know how much they mean to him, and by extension, how much they mean to you regardless of what happened before your departure.
The head of student exchange program sends you warm greetings through text, followed by a series of messages from your friends and family. You’re glad Giselle had decided to pick you up from the airport, because you don’t think you’re in a good state to pretend like you’re okay, and Giselle knows.
Of course, she knows.
Giselle’s been your anchor during your last weeks in Seoul. Mark reckons that if anyone would understand you best during this time, it would be Giselle. After all, she’d gone through the same thing.
Like Mark, Giselle moved to Seoul with her parents for a few years. She had a similar experience with Mark, considering that her parents are constantly moving around—from Japan to South Korea then to Vancouver. Giselle was only in Seoul for two years before her parents moved back to Vancouver again, and in between those years she had met Kevin Moon, the love of her life.
They have been dating for almost four years now, two of those years, they dated long distance.
“How’d you make it work?” you had asked Giselle over Facetime once.
“It wasn’t perfect,” she admitted. “We broke up a couple of time because it was really difficult. And neither of us were willing to move for each other. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Kevin and I, we love each other. Truly we do. But I wouldn’t want to plant my entire life in Seoul for him. In the same manner, I don’t want him to move from Seoul to Vancouver for me when we both know for a fact that he’d be more successful in Korea than here. I guess, I don’t know, I don’t have an advice I could give you.”
“I’m not asking for advice,” you denied. “I mean. Donghyuck and I have only been dating for like, two weeks. I wouldn’t think that far at this time.”
Giselle had laughed at the other end of the line. “Let me tell you one thing, though.”
“Mhm.”
“It’s all a matter of choice,” she had said slowly, like she wanted to imprint the words to your brain. “Your heart isn’t made of diamonds. Your lungs aren’t made of steel. Somehow, inevitably, you’d grow tired—tired of timezones and how you never get the timing right, tired of not having someone to hug when you need it, tired of having to compromise—and it’s not an easy game.”
Giselle was smiling when she’d said the rest: “But Kevin is so worth it. I’ll grow tired of the baggage long distance comes with, but I don’t think I could live without him, you know? And it’s exaggerated, I know, and neither of us know what the future holds, but we’re choosing us. We chose to stay.”
It would have been beautiful, you think, if things worked out between you and Donghyuck. You would have written poems and prose in places about how you chose to stay. You would have learned about time zones and the best time to call, could have learned how to purchase the cheapest flight tickets to see each other, would have learned love and compromise together.
But you’re here, back in Vancouver, the voices of Mark and Giselle all blurred out from the backseat, and all you could think of is how much you miss Donghyuck.
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예기치 않은 (yegichi anh-eun) - unexpected
The head of the student exchange program asks you to write an article about your experience in Seoul and gives you until the fall semester begins, just in time for the university’s own publishing house to produce this year’s school paper. You’re stuck at two hundred words and a stupid title Mark came up with: “Learning Languages”—and you’re thinking about withdrawing from that spot in the newspaper but Mark keeps calling you a heartbroken loser and you’re not about to let Mark Lee get the last word.
You’re eating cereal and watching an episode of Suits to prepare to write again (yes, a 30-minute preparation time is needed for such task) when someone knocks at your door.
You know how, in movies, the main character would see things in slow motion as soon as the love of their life enters the scene? That’s exactly what happens when you open the door and find Lee Donghyuck standing outside your dorm room, a too-large for his body backpack on one shoulder and his heart upon his sleeve.
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미안해 (mianhae) – I’m sorry | 사랑해 (saranghae) – I love you
“I’m sorry,” are the first words that Lee Donghyuck comes up with, and truthfully are the words you needed to hear from him. He says it in his mother tongue and you feel his heart in his voice.
“Mark?” you ask, knowing full well it’s Mark who helped him.
“Yes but no,” he answers. “He said he’d only give me your address but he’s not picking me up or helping me. My flight landed literally six hours ago and I’ve been looking for you since.”
Donghyuck sits across you on the small table you own inside your small room. His backpack is sitting on his feet and his shoulders are slumped. Donghyuck allows himself to look small compared to all the times you were with him.
“Y-you look good,” he comments, eyes glued on you. “I’m glad you’re healthy, at least.”
“You, too,” you mumble. “Tea? Coffee?”
“Water would be fine, please and thank you.” You reach over to hand him a bottle. “And who are you kidding? I look awful.”
He does. He looks exactly what he said he had done to get here. Look for you for six hours after a ten-hour flight from Incheon. Donghyuck downs the bottle of water. Poor guy probably hasn’t eaten.
“Why are you here, Donghyuck?” you ask as soon as he’s done drinking.
Donghyuck clears his throat. “I don’t really know what I want out of this trip.”
You keep your arms crossed over your chest.
“And I’m not about to beg you to take me back,” he continues. “I just wanted to explain. I just want you to know what happened. I can live without you, but I can’t live with you thinking I had betrayed you.”
“Donghyuck, there’s really no need to explain. Renjun has told Mark all I needed to know.”
“No, let me say it please. I spent a fortune to come here, and I’m going to make you listen if it’s the last thing I’d do. After this, I’ll leave. I have a ticket back home tomorrow, and I’ll leave.”
Ridiculous. Who would spend a fortune on a set of roundtrip tickets only to leave a day after? Of course, only Lee Donghyuck.
“Karina and I go way back,” he says. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. And she’s not someone I could just get rid of just because our relationship didn’t work out. We’re better off as friends, and that’s a fact we had come to learn when we tried dating. And it was painful, but I couldn’t lose her just because we didn’t know how to date, how to play boyfriend and girlfriend to each other. That’s the first thing I need you to understand.”
“Like I don’t know that already?” you remark sarcastically.
“Karina is a part of me.” Shit’s painful.
“But now like how you are a part of me.”
Oh.
“She’s my best friend, almost like a sister now, and my parents care about her,” he continues. “It was a mistake that we even tried to date just so we could relate to everyone dating everybody. It almost ruined us, and Karina and I, we can’t afford to lose each other just because of that. The person who I am now, part of it is because of Karina. But Y/N, the person I’m about to become, I want it to be because of you.”
He clears his throat again. You look at the bottle of water he finished drinking because you really can’t look at Donghyuck now. Not when he’s vulnerable and out in the open. Not when he’s exactly the way he was when you fell in love with him.
“And I had plans. For the long run,” he says like a promise. “I had started looking up how to get a tourist visa to Canada and how to get you a tourist visa to Korea. I’ve been saving all my allowances and the money I’ve been earning from work so I could book a ticket to Vancouver for the summer and spend it with you. And I was supposed to tell Mom, but I haven’t had the chance yet—that one I have no excuse for. But the timing was off and she met you before I could tell her. She had no idea and she’s genuinely sorry she made it seem like she wanted me to end up with Karina. If she had known I was already in love with someone else, she wouldn’t have said that in front of you. She would have loved you.”
Donghyuck pauses. You look up to see him wiping his tears from his cheeks. “And I’m sorry that the timing didn’t go well for us, but I promise you I had plans. I just didn’t want to spend the rest of your weeks in Seoul thinking about you being gone as soon as the semester is over. I wanted to seize the moments with you and make you—I wanted to make you feel that I love you.”
Your breath hitches. Donghyuck locks eyes with you.
“I love you. I love you and I’m so sorry that I made you feel like I didn’t,” he confesses, bursting into tears and you do, too. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t try hard enough to make you stay. I’m so sorry that I talked to fast that time I finally got you to answer my call; I should’ve explained more calmly. I’m so sorry that we’re here, in Vancouver, hearts broken. But I love you, and I wish I could say all of these in English if that’s what would make you believe it’s real and it’s true.”
But he doesn’t have to.
“I love you,” you say in your mother tongue before switching to Korean. “I love you. And I know you love me. And I’m so sorry for jumping to conclusions and not trying hard enough. Just like you, I had plans to. For the long run. And I can live without you, too, but I can’t live without you knowing how much I love you.”
Donghyuck giggles through his tears and reaches out both hands to wipe off yours. “Let’s not live without each other.”
It’s him to moves, standing a little, so he could kiss you.
The kiss says everything the language barrier can’t. I love you. I missed you. I’m sorry. This is everything I’ve ever wanted. You are everything I’ve ever wanted.
Donghyuck spends the night tracing your body with his mouth like he’s writing a love song and he needs to taste you first before he could write the first melody. You spend the night underneath Donghyuck’s love, whispering his name like praise, taking, taking, taking everything he’s giving you.
You wake up to arms around you and the love of your life kissing the back of your neck. You and him spend the entire day (or at least, the seven hours he had until he had to take the flight back home) talking about your plans and making a list of thing you have to talk about over the phone, but today, you’re taking him out on a date under the warm, sunny skies of Vancouver.
And you do. You and Donghyuck have the best day ever together. Donghyuck gives you the other pair of the touch lamp you’d given to him as a birthday present—you’d forgotten you left it when you ran off; you were supposed to watch him open it so you could show him how it works—and makes you promise to touch the lamp whenever you missed him. He thanks you for the mixtape and confesses he cries whenever he plays it inside his car. He also gives you your small notebook of learning languages back (because you had dramatically left it to Renjun before you boarded the plane), saying you’d need it again.
Mark refused to come because he wants you and Donghyuck to talk and spend the day creating a game plan to make your relationship work. At the end of the hours you had with him, you don’t come up with a solid game plan.
Because Giselle was right, after all, it all comes down to the choices you make. There was no formula on how a long-distance relationship would work. Neither you nor Donghyuck had survived one, but you knew one thing:
Today, you and Donghyuck choose each other.
It’s only the beginning, it seems.
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The sun is out and bright when Donghyuck boards the plane.
It’s a lot warmer than the rest of the year, but you don’t really mind.
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mintmatcha · 6 months
Text
"You're leaving?" He braces an arm against the door, muscles bunched tight as if ready for an attack. "You can't leave."
Your suitcase is already digging into your hand, the weight of your life too heavy to bear, and yet you have no other choice than to hold it despite the way it makes your shoulder and heart burn.
"Satoru." You don't try to push by. His infinity is on. You can feel its static lingering in the air between you, toiling away to keep you apart just as it always does.
"I'd kill for you." He launches into the same speech he always does, voice cracking in the same spaces as it did last time. "I'd burn the world to the ground for you. I'd do anything for you. That's not enough? You need more than that?"
Beneath his blindfold, his eyes are pulled wide enough that his forehead is scrunched lines. You can picture how his pupils must be pinpricks against that crystal blue, wild and fierce in a way you don't fear. His breath is heavier than you've ever seen it be during a fight, pulled in through his mouth so hard you can hear the hiss of it.
This is the real strife in his life: finding people who want to stay.
The ache in your muscles is sharp now, begging for you to just give in and drop your bag, but you don't. You stay there, chin pulled high as you say the things you've practiced in the bathroom mirror.
"You'd burn the world down just because you thought it might be fun."
Gojo physically starts out of surprise.
"You live for this. You like the chaos and the drama and these, these-" You speak so fast that you stumble, every word crowding to get out, "-These big gestures that don't mean anything. This doesn't mean anything."
Gojo's body sags as his muscles relax, arms dropping to the side. Even the buzzing in the air is quieted by his stunned silence.
"You're unhinged and driven by this thought that you're untouchable and that makes you better than everyone, even though you don't care about anything-"
"I'd kill for you." When he interrupts, it's soft. Sweet. It's a declaration of love, it's a promise, it's a plea. For once, you're glad his face is covered.
"I never wanted that." You step through the space he's created, out of the door and out of his life, "I just wanted you to live with me."
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luxaofhesperides · 5 months
Text
Childhood friends to lovers ; requested by @starlightcat04!
Duke’s grandmother lived in Illinois when he was a kid, years before he and his parents were captured by the Joker and the news of it sent her to a hospital that she didn’t leave until Death arrived for her. But before all that, before his life upended and tore itself to shreds in front of him, Duke used to visit her in the summers.
His parents didn’t want to leave Gotham, but they also didn’t want him to grow up there amid all the crime and rogue attacks. The solution was to drive down to his grandmother’s house, suitcase in the trunk, and stay with him there for a few days before they returned to make sure no one broke into their house. 
She lived in the outskirts of Amity Park, a town smaller than Gotham and much, much quieter. The change in scenery always blew his mind, and he spent most of his childhood summers running around the woods, accidentally scaring hikers. 
There were other kids in Amity, further in towards the suburbs, but he never got along with most of them, too strange, only here for a month or so, and carrying an awareness and sense of danger that all Gothamites had. 
He didn’t really have friends in Amity Park, except for one: Danny Fenton, local outcast due to his scientist parents'… everything. His only friend, a boy named Tucker, would always be gone in the summers as well, visiting family in Chicago and Pennsylvania. 
They gravitated towards each other, as lonely kids tend to do.
Danny helped make those summers fun, full of laughter and skinned knees and smuggled tech from the Fenton household to mess around with. They shared stories of their lives, comparing Amity Park to Gotham, arguing over superheroes and getting distracted each time by how cool heroes were. 
The last summer he ever went to Amity Park, Danny had gotten his first cell phone and eagerly gave Duke his number. Any time they weren’t together, they were texting until they fell asleep, phone still in hand.
The time they spent together was always limited, but Duke could swear that no one in the world knew him as well as Danny did.
He still misses him. 
They still text and call when they can, but it’s gotten hard over the past few years. Duke was caught up in foster care and searching for his parents and being part of the We Are Robin gang and then becoming the Signal. Danny, from what he’s shared with Duke, went through similar things of recovering from a lab accident and then having his town be overrun with ghosts, of all things, which had the government get involved and cause problems.
The few times they were able to find a quiet night where they could just talk and be Duke and Danny again were nights he always treasured, though they left an ache in his chest when it was over. 
It’s just been so long since they’ve seen each other in person. He doesn’t even know what Danny looks like anymore! And, sure, he could always ask for a picture, but it feels awkward. They know what they looked like before. And they’ve heard each other’s voices, know the basics of what’s going on in each other’s lives…
They still know each other, but Duke is all too aware of the distance that’s grown between them.
“Duke, seriously, what’s got you spacing out so much?” Steph asks, pulling him from his thoughts. 
He shrugs, smiling sheepishly. “Just thinking. Sorry about that. What were you saying?”
“I was saying,” she says, “That you should do a road trip. Or just like, travel around. Check out college campuses. Enjoy your last summer vacation of high school! Trust me, you’ll want the break before going into senior year.”
“Just because you’re two years older than me—”
“Excuse me for trying to impart my wisdom! See if I help you again when I’m older and wiser.”
“Sure, Steph,” he says, “Whatever you say.”
She squints at him. “What’s with that tone? I’m being helpful right now!”
“Mhm.”
“Geez. I should have let Dick talk to you. Anyways, I already told Bruce that you wanted to do this, so he’s agreed to fund it.”
Duke jerks upright in his seat, nearly falling out of it. “You did WHAT?!”
“You’re welcome,” Steph grins, unrepentant. 
“Steph, come on. This is unnecessary. Isn’t it better for me to help out more in the summer? Train more, work with the team on stuff, you know, important things?”
“Duke.” Steph’s voice suddenly turns serious and he can’t help but give her all his attention. “Listen to me. Your life is more important. If Gotham survived when Bruce was the only cape around, then it’ll survive while you prioritize your life. And that means touring colleges to figure out where you want to go.”
“I could just stay here and go to GCU.”
Steph just stares at him, unimpressed, and he has to admit, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m not gonna do that.”
“Just enjoy traveling around, okay? And if you want someone to go with you…” she nudges him with her shoulder, repeatedly, very clearly hinting at something.
“I’ll be sure to ask Cass,” Duke says, and Steph rolls her eyes, but doesn’t deny that Cass would be a great travel partner. 
Their conversation comes to a halt when an alarm on her phone goes off and she drops her head with a groan. She grabs her bag and takes off with a quick explanation that she has to get to class, one she hates but is determined to ace just to spite the professor, and in no time at all, Duke is alone again. 
Without Steph providing him a distraction, Duke has nothing to do but read through his texts with Danny. It hasn’t been that long since they last talked; four days ago is nothing compared to the months of silence that went between them a few years ago. They’ve gotten better since staying in contact since then, and make sure to text at least once a week. 
It’s not perfect, but it’s better than nothing.
He considers asking Danny where he’s planning to go. Maybe they could go to the same place together, live in the same apartment, be able to finally stick together. Not that it’ll ever happen; the more likely outcome is that they’ll be accepted into different universities, chose places closer to their respective homes, and still be far apart.
An idea begins to form in his mind.
They’ve had summers together before. Maybe they could have one more.
First, he needs to talk to Bruce.
He’s working from home, thankfully, typing away at a laptop in his office when Duke knocks on the door and pokes his head in.
“Duke,” Bruce smiles, pushes his laptop away. “Come in.”
“Hey. Steph said she talked to you about me traveling this summer?”
“Yes. She was very insistent that you go visit any universities that pique your interest. I’ve already agreed to fund everything, and I can take care of plane tickets and hotels as well.” 
Duke nods, trying not to look too nervous. “Yeah, so about that. Could I travel with someone? Would that be cool? Or is this a thing for me only?”
Bruce blinks. “I promise cost is not an issue. Adding another person won’t be a problem. Who is it?”
“Ah, no one you know. He’s a childhood friend of mine who lives in Illinois, and I’d like to spend a summer with him again.”
“Who is it?”
Oh boy. Bruce is definitely going to find everything he can about Danny and his family and start interrogating Duke about him. But if that’s going to let him travel the country with Danny, then he’s more than willing to deal with it.
“Danny Fenton, from Amity Park. The town with the ghost problem.”
Bruce leans back in his chair. “I’ve heard of them. The League discussed investigating it when the news first got out, but Constantine warned us to stay away due to risk of possession. It seems that the local hero, Phantom, has it all in hand.” Bruce nods, already thinking deeply about his next steps. “Alright, I’ll need to do some research. And send me a list of the universities you’d like to visit so I can plan your itinerary.”
“Cool. Thanks, B.”
Duke leaves as quickly as he can after that, letting out a relieved breath  once he’s sure no one is around to hear it. 
Step one is done. 
Now for step two: communication.
duke: hey, are you free for a call anytime soon? danny: yeah! we can call now if u want :)
Well! That was way faster than he was expecting. 
He all but sprints through the halls to get to his room and locks the door behind himself. It won’t do much to stop anyone from actually coming in, but it is a sign that he wants privacy. Once he’s sure no one is going to be listening in and interrupting, Duke pulls up Danny’s contact and hits the call button.
It rings twice before Danny’s picking up, greeting him with a cheerful, “Hey Duke! What’s up?”
“Hey Danny,” he replies, unable to help the way his voice softens with affection. “So, this is totally out of the blue, but if you could spend this summer going around the country with me, would you?”
“I mean, yeah, obviously. You know I’d do anything to spend more time with you! Why?”
Duke grins. While he was sure about what Danny’s answer would be, that didn’t stop him from worrying about a rejection. “Well. Bruce has offered to fund the entire trip and bring someone along.”
“Wait, seriously? You want me to go with you?”
“Who else? Dude, you know I love spending time with you, and I’ve missed you like crazy.”
“Oh my God, you’re serious. Duke! Yes, I want to be your travel buddy! Are you kidding me? In what world would I say no?”
“Hey, man, you can’t blame me for making sure. Are your parents going to be fine with that?”
Danny goes quiet, and Duke feels his heart drop. “Danny? Is something wrong?”
“No,” Danny says, followed by a bitter laugh. “They won’t care. I’ll just tell them I’m going traveling with a friend and that’ll be enough. They’re too busy to care much about what I do, these days. They probably won’t even notice that I’m gone, now that Jazz isn’t here to remind them that I exist.”
“How is Jazz, by the way? We could visit her.”
“She’s doing fine. Really loving Harvard. And I’d love that Duke. You’re the best.”
The mood of the conversation eases and they fall into the usual rhythm of catching each other up, chatting about their lives and any other thought that crosses their minds. It’s easy for the hours to slip away with Danny, and before he knows it, there’s a knock on his door as Alfred calls him for dinner.
He hangs up with a quick goodbye to Danny, along with a promise to send him the itinerary once it’s made. 
Somehow, news of his summer plans get out by the end of the day. Which means Steph blabbed and feels no remorse about it. The next week of Duke’s life is overtaken by nearly every trying to help him plan and prepare for his trip, while lightly interrogating him about Danny. By the time he was heading off to the airport, agreeing to take one of Bruce’s smaller private planes which was piloted by a man who definitely wasn’t Jason going by the name 'Todd Jameson'. Of course not, that would be silly.
(Duke sighed very, very loudly when he saw Jason waving at him from outside the plane. He should have expected the guy to take advantage of Bruce needing a pilot and teasing him about Danny.)
He can’t bring himself to be too bother by it, though, when it means he’ll get to be with Danny again soon. Duke would pay any price to be with him again, so this is hardly anything.
They set off with a wave from Duke and Jason flipping the bird to the rest of the family. And then Jason is up in the cockpit, blasting his playlist of songs from musicals, and Duke is left to wait impatient for the next few hours until they reach Illinois. 
The hours pass far too slow but also much too fast. Duke feels like he barely has time to prepare himself before they’re landing smoothly and Danny texts him to let him know he’s at the airport.
Jason sees him off before heading out to take a call from Roy, telling him to find his own way to his hotel. Duke barely pays him enough mind to say goodbye, grabbing his suitcase and hurrying into the airport, searching for the terminal Danny’s at. 
He doesn’t find Danny first. Danny finds him and slams into him like a freight train. It’s only his training that keeps Duke from toppling over, dropping his suitcase to hold Danny. They cling to each other tightly, as if they might never see each other again. Danny’s got his legs wrapped around Duke’s waist like a koala, and Duke would be happy to carry him forever. 
“I can’t believe you’re really here,” Danny murmurs into his ear. Duke shivers, holding him tighter, and smiles.
“Yeah. I know. Man, you don’t know how much I’ve missed you.”
“I think I can take a pretty good guess.”
Danny pulls away, dropping his feet back to the ground. 
Duke is finally able to see Danny for the first time in years, and he’s pretty sure he stops breathing for a solid minute. Danny grew up fine. He’s got the bluest eyes he’s ever seen, and soft black hair that’s a little windswept and messy, and his grin is as bright and beautiful as always. For a moment, Duke wants nothing more than to kiss him.
Then Danny steps back and the thought fades. 
“Ready to go? We’re going to UChicago first, yeah?”
“That’s the plan,” Duke says, falling into step with Danny as they make their way out of the airport. “Then a day just to hang out in Chicago before we head to Harvard.”
“Cool,” Danny grins. “Hotel first, though, right?”
“Yeah, man, catch up time is essential.”
Danny glances over at him, something unreadable in his eyes, but he smiles when he sees that Duke is already looking at him. “Let’s get going, then.”
Danny drives them in a car he apparently made himself, which explains why it’s a model Duke’s never seen before. It drives like a dream and Duke is very tempted to get Danny to make one for the Signal, maybe even wrangle up a contract to have him work with Batman Inc. 
They spend the two hour drive chatting and laughing as if no time has passed at all since they last saw each other in person. All the years seem to fade away and they’re just Duke and Danny again, spending another summer together. 
Check in goes smoothly, and the room Bruce has booked them is large, with two beds, a seating area, and a dining area. A glass door leads to a small balcony with two chairs and a fantastic view of the lake behind the hotel. They set both their suitcases on the luggage rack, and Duke only has time to turn to Danny to ask which bed he wants before he finds himself pressed up against the wall, Danny’s hands on his cheeks.
“Tell me if you don’t want this,” he whispers against Duke’s lips.
Duke doesn’t bother replying. He just leans in, closes the minuscule distance between them, and kisses Danny. It’s soft and sweet and everything he’s ever wanted.
Then Danny makes a small noise in the back of his throat and deepens the kiss. It goes from soft to heated and desperate and all consuming instantly. Duke slides his hands around Danny’s waist, pulling him impossibly closer, and thinks I never want to leave you again.
He’s completely lost track of time when Danny pulls back with gasp. They both take a few seconds to catch their breath, and Duke realizes his cheeks feel cold.
“Sorry,” Danny whispers, pulling his hands away. Duke catches them before they can go too far and holds them together.
“Sorry for what?”
“The frost,” he says, wiggling his fingers lightly. Duke glances down and sees that his fingertips are lightly coated in frost, spilling down his fingers.
“You have powers?”
“Came with the lab accident.”
“Man,” Duke says, “We have got to catch up properly. There’s a ton I haven’t told you.”
Danny laughs lightly, breathlessly. “Oh, for sure. But later. I’ve been wanting to kiss you for years.”
“Danny, baby, you can kiss me all night if you want.”
“I intend to,” he says with a bright grin.
What else could Duke do but lean in and kiss him again?
Nothing else exists in that moment except them. Duke is so, so glad he’s got the rest of summer to spend with Danny. He’s going to take him on dates in every city they visit. 
They’ve gone years without seeing each other. Duke refuses to let it happen again. Whatever future awaits them, he’ll do all he can to keep Danny in it. 
But for now, he’s got his cute childhood friend to kiss and all the privacy a hotel room can offer. He fully intends to make the most of it.
. . .
[send me a ghostlights prompt!]
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cameronspecial · 1 month
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I Will Use It, Rafe
Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings:  Phone SMUT
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.9K
Summary: Rafe has to go away for a work trip, but he doesn't want to leave Y/N to deal with her needs alone.
A/N: Why do I find this concept so hot? Let me know if you guys want more appearances of this particular toy because this has me going.
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Now that he is working at Cameron Development full-time, Rafe is going to be travelling for work and the first trip is on Monday. He’ll be gone for four nights, which isn’t long, but it would be the longest they have been apart since their sophomore year. It would mean that Rafe wouldn’t be around to satisfy any sexual needs that Y/N would have while he is gone. This gets Rafe thinking because while he can get off with just his hand and one of their home videos, he knows that Y/N can’t find a release with either of those things. Plus, Y/N using her vibrator makes Rafe jealous of the thought of anything else bringing her pleasure other than him. She is fine with not using the toy most of the time because he is always there to help her when she is in need. However, Rafe doesn’t want to leave her without anything to satisfy her desires while he is gone. He is watching Neighbors when a solution comes to mind thanks to the movie. He pulls his laptop into his lap and gets to work on researching how he can make his idea a reality. 
———
Y/N stands by the front door, waiting for Rafe to bring down his suitcase. He comes down the stairs with the clatter of his bags and stops at the door. “I know you have to go, yet I don’t want you to go. I’m going to miss you so much,” she whines, wrapping her arms around his neck so she can bury her face in it. He caresses the back of her head in comfort, “I know. I’m going to miss you too, Angel. I left you a gift in our room though. I need you to promise only to open it if you need to get yourself off, okay?” Her eyebrows come to a point, yet she nods. “A little cryptic, but okay,” she agrees, giving him one last kiss before he goes. 
———
That night, she finds herself going through pictures of Rafe because she misses him. At the sight of a certain picture, a need starts to grow between her legs. His thick biceps lead her to imagine how they would feel under her grip as she rides the life out of him. She remembers the instructions Rafe gave her this morning and goes to his dresser where she placed the wrapped box. She pulls the paper apart to find a note. Call me once you open it. I want to listen. Her heartbeat picks up at his request and she pulls out her phone. “Hi, Angel. How was your day?” he asks into the phone, grinning at getting to hear her voice. She uses one hand to continue opening the box, “It’s been good. I’m opening your gift.” Rafe chuckles and leans back against the headboard. Of course, his little angel is already needy.
“Have you opened it up completely yet?”
“Nope, just getting it done now.” 
A box slips out to reveal an object the colour of his skin resting inside. She takes it into her hands and examines it. It looks familiar and she immediately recognizes it. “Is this what I think it is?” she gasps. He lets out a low laugh, “It is. Will you use it for me, Angel? I want to hear you.” Her face warms at the thought. “I will use it, Rafe. But I want to hear you too.” “I am already ahead of you, Angel,” he assures, letting her hear the sounds of his belt clinking as he takes his pants off. She follows his lead and rids herself of her clothes. He squirts some lotion into his hands, “Put it in your mouth. Get it nice and wet so it can penetrate that tight pussy.” She obeys his orders and wets the dildo made from a mould of Rafe’s dick into her mouth. As she gags from it hitting the back of her throat, Rafe’s hands begin to rub up and down his length. He hears how wet the toy is now from her mouth and gives her the next instruction. “I think it’s time for it to be inside of you. What do you think, Angel?” “Yes. I can’t wait to have you inside of me in some way again,” she moans. She brings the tip to her entrance, groaning as she pushes it in.
“How does that feel? Is it as good as me?” he inquires. He continues to pump himself at the sounds she is making. She shakes her head, “Not as good, but at least it feels like you. It doesn’t keep me warm like you do though.” She picks up her pace like Rafe would, hitting the spot inside of her that he normally can. “Good. Even though I got you it, I don’t want you getting used to it,” he growls. The pair continues to fuel each other with their noises and this eventually leads them to their climax. “I’m going to come, Rafe,” she cries out as she feels her walls pulse around the object penetrating her. Rafe’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he feels the same, “Do it, Angel. Come with me.” At the same time, their cum paints their skin. Rafe’s on his stomach and Y/N’s on her hand. They listen to each other’s pants as they come down from their highs. “That was amazing. Thank you for the gift, Rafe,” she breathes into the phone. Rafe grins, “No problem, Angel. I expect to do this every night while I’m away, so be prepared. Also, I need you to send me a pic of that pretty pussy for me. I think I have another round in me.” “Well, you have to send me a picture too. I want to join you in that next round.” God, Rafe loves this woman. 
Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming
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heavenlyhischier · 2 months
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𝐄𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 | 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐫 (𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨)
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word count: 6.2k
summary: You finally arrive in Switzerland and take a trip to Nico's hometown. Nothing can go wrong, right?
warnings: angst (sorta. at the end), drinking mentioned, not edited, probably some inaccurate descriptions of Switzerland, but I did my best ahaha, poorly translated german!!!
note: thank you guys for the love on the first part! i hope you enjoy this as much. my inbox is always open for questions or concerns!
part one
JULY 2023
The plane rides to Switzerland were arguably the worst experiences of your life, when it came to air travel at least. First, people at the terminals were absolutely miserable and rude to you from the moment you stepped foot in the airports until you sat in your seat on the plane. Second, you almost missed your flight after your overnight layover because the hotel shuttle broke down. Then, you were unfortunately seated next to the seemingly one person on the plane who snored while they slept. On top of all of that, you were in the middle seat for both flights. 
Needless to say, you had had enough of planes for the time being and you wouldn’t be upset if you stayed in Switzerland for the rest of your life if it meant never having to do that again. The only thing that got you through all of that without crying your eyes out were Nico’s excited texts about your arrival, and also Jack, who had to talk you down from fighting one of the terminal women at the airport after Charlie called him in a panic. 
Once you and Charlie had gone through the proper channels to be granted clearance and had your suitcases, you searched the sea of people bustling around the airport for Nina, Nico’s sister. You’d only seen her in pictures, but Nico had made her send you a picture of what she would be wearing to make her a little easier for you to spot. You were grateful that she had, because you’re not sure you would’ve found her if it weren’t for knowing she was wearing a bright yellow top. 
“Hello,” She beams, her smile just as bright and her accent thicker than her brothers, “It’s so nice to finally meet you! Nico has not shut up about you since he got back home.”
Your cheeks instantly flushed a deep shade of pink as you let the man to her left take your suitcase, while she grabbed at Charlie’s. You’d known Nico had told his sister about your arrival and trip, but you didn’t think there was enough to tell that would’ve had him discussing you for the last two months. Though, you were going to choose to not dwell or read too much into it. Maybe it was a simple mistranslation. 
“It’s nice to finally meet you, too,” You grinned, letting her pull you forward into a hug, “I’ve heard so much about you over the years.” 
“Hopefully good things,” She teases as she gently squeezes you, “This is my boyfriend, Finn.”
You step out of Nina’s grasp and take Finn’s outstretched hand, a warm smile on your face as you introduce yourself. Once Charlie had made her own introductions, Nina was ready to set off towards the car. She relayed an apology from Nico, mentioning how he desperately tried to get out of the prior commitment just so that he was able to pick the two of you up. You had to ignore Charlie’s not-so-subtle elbow into your rib cage as she snickered. 
“I’ll be sure to tell him not to worry. After all, he’s letting us stay in his house for free,” You lightly laughed, handing your backpack to Finn as he loaded the trunk. 
“Yes, he told me about that. He said you are quite stubborn, in the best way,” She had a mischievous smile toying on her face, “He was ready to give up the entire place, but he said you wouldn’t let him.”
“Yeah,” You shyly laughed, “I’m not putting him out of his own home. I don’t mind sharing a bed with Charlie.”
Nina slightly raised her brows at you, giving you a teasing smile when she noticed the blush that was still decorating your cheeks. You averted your gaze away from the woman in front of you, trying to not think about how much Nico had told his sister about you. Trying to ignore the stampede of butterflies in your stomach.
“Thank you,” You and Charlie said at the same time as Finn grabbed the last of your bags, earning an amused look from the Swiss natives in front of you. 
Nina offered either one of you the front seat, but you both declined and slid into the back instead. The drive there was filled with her pointing out landmarks or important shops, with Finn chiming in every once in a while despite his English being slightly off. You made a mental note to learn more words in their language to better communicate with him, and the other Swiss born people you’d encounter. You tried to learn the language as best as you could over Duolingo without asking Nico, but that proved to be more difficult than you’d anticipated. 
Nearly halfway through the drive to the apartment, you’d gotten a text from Nico that mentioned how sorry he was for not only him not being there, but for also sticking you with his sister until he was done. You bit your lip in order to prevent yourself from smiling, though it didn’t necessarily work based on Nina’s smirk when she glanced back at you. Your response was simple, telling him that it was perfectly fine, that you loved his sister, and you were excited to see what he had in store. 
When Finn pulls up to Nico’s complex, he leaves the car running outside the main front door and jumps out to grab your suitcases from the trunk. You slip out of the backseat, Charlie following suit as the two of them nearly shove you away as they grab your bags. Finn mumbles something to Nina before placing a gentle kiss to her lips and getting back into the car. 
“He said wait here until he parks the car,” Nina translated, hands on her hips as she watches him drive off, “So, you and my brother are not…?”
The question caught you so off guard that you slightly choke on the air in your lungs, your eyes widening as Charlie let out a loud laugh. “We’re just friends,” You explained, your voice slightly cracking in embarrassment.
“I don’t buy it,” She shrugs nonchalantly, her brow quirking as she looks at you, “I know my brother, and you’re quite obvious too, you know.”
“Oh, I know,” Charlie snorted, ignoring the scowl you sent her way.
“We’re just friends,” You repeated, your voice much softer as you stared at your shoes. 
Though Nina still didn’t believe you, she dropped the subject and fell into conversation with Charlie as you sat with your thoughts. It was a secret to none, except for Nico himself apparently, that you had feelings for him, and you’re not sure how you plan to keep those tucked away for the next week and a half. Nina’s subtle comments about how much he spoke about you were not helping you, either. In fact, they were letting you drift back over into the possibility of him liking you back. 
Finn quickly returned, taking only your suitcase after you put up a stubborn argument when he tried to carry your backpack as well. Nina translated for the both of you in amusement, laughing with Charlie when you placed your hands on your hips and shook your head at Finn. After your small, harmless debate had been settled, you followed them inside and up to Nico’s apartment. While you were in the elevator, you felt your phone buzzing in your back pocket, and you saw Nico’s name on the screen. 
“Hello,” You answered, turning away from the smug smiles of the three of them. 
“Hey! Did you guys make it to the apartment,” He asks, only the quiet hum of passing traffic being heard in the background, “I’m on my way now. I made them let me leave early.”
“Yeah, we’re in the elevator right now,” You told him, a light blush decorating your cheeks simply from speaking to him, “You didn’t have to leave early. We would’ve been fine.”
“Oh, he left early,” You heard Charlie’s teasing whisper followed by Nina’s giggle.
“I wanted to. I’ll be there in about ten minutes, so I will see you soon,” His voice was slightly softer than usual, almost as if he was trying to hold himself back from something. 
“Great, see you soon,” You bashfully spoke, all too aware of the audience behind you. 
You disconnected the call, avoiding turning around to see what you know are going to be playful grins and relentless comments on how red your face had gotten. Luckily, the elevator had reached Nico’s floor, and Nina was slipping past you to lead the way. Shaking your head when Charlie winked at you, you followed the two of them down the hallway until you reached what you assume is Nico’s apartment since Nina’s fishing around her bag for a set of keys. 
When she finally gets the door unlocked, she pushes it open and gestures for the two of you to step inside. Your eyes are dancing around the apartment, drinking in all of the little details and decorations that littered the space. Pictures of his family and friends hung on the wall, but there was one picture in particular that stood out to you.
It was a picture of just the two of you that had been taken less than four months ago, after their win over the Rangers. You had tagged along with the guys and their partners out to some small diner to celebrate their win, and you ended up next to Nico at the table. You later learned it was not a happy accident courtesy of Nicole. The two of you were talking and having a good time when you had tipped your chair too far backwards, sending you toppling over. 
Nico, being the kind person he is, had tried to prevent you from falling, but instead, he went crashing down with you. The two of you laid on the floor, laughter echoing around you as you looked at him. You had no idea anyone had even taken a picture of the two of you, but it made something swell inside of your heart at the thought of Nico not only  knowing, but even caring enough to print it out.
“Let me show you the guest room,” Nina’s voice tears you out of your trance.
Both girls share knowing, teasing looks with each other, earning an eye roll from you as you follow Nina down the short hallway. She pushes open a door, her and Finn rolling the suitcases into the decently sized bedroom. You rush around Charlie, quickly moving to claim your side of the bed before she can do it.
The bedroom isn’t anything grand, but it looks extremely comfortable and cozy. The fluffy comforter is a light blue color with matching pillowcases that told you it likely came in a set. The walls in the room were sparsely decorated, but there was a full length mirror tucked in a corner with a small table next to it that was perfect for getting ready. There was also a TV that appeared to still have the plastic protective film over it sitting atop a nice wooden dresser.
The view outside the window made your jaw drop and your eyes slightly widen, the thought of never leaving returning again, but for a much better reason now. You had only seen very little of what the city had to offer, but you were already absolutely enchanted by it in its entirety. There was absolutely nothing that could compare. 
“I’ll let you guys get settled and wait for Nico in the main room,” Nina softly spoke, “If you need help, just yell!”
“Thank you,” You gave her a small smile. 
You and Charlie fall into a comfortable silence as you begin taking things out of your suitcases and bags. There was a small closet that you divided equally, and you also split the six drawer dresser between the two of you. You left your toiletries and other items on the exposed space of the dresser, not wanting to take up any bathroom space. You were in the middle of tucking your suitcase under the bed when you heard his voice.
“Well, come on,” Charlie playfully rolls her eyes as she watches you debate going out there. 
She doesn’t wait for you as you briefly remain in your spot, your hands trembling with nerves, but you follow shortly after. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you round the corner, and you’re not entirely sure why. You knew you were going to be seeing him, so why were you so nervous? 
“Hey Nico,” Charlie greets, letting him pull you into a side hug.
He greets her in return, but his eyes don’t leave your figure once he notices you hesitating near the hallway. The three of them notice the way Nico seems to have let them fade away, his focus now being you and only you. Nico’s arm is so loose around Charlie that she barely feels a difference when she steps away from them, her smirk matching that of Nina and Finn as Nico steps towards you. 
Your eyes never stray away from his, everyone around you blending in with the background, as you watch him approach you with bated breath. Nico has the small smile on his face that he always does, but it makes your heart swell all the same. He instantly pulls you into his chest, his arms wrapping around your neck as your own wrap around his torso.
Nina shares a look with the two others as she shakes her head in amusement before she moves into the kitchen. Finn follows suit, Charlie shortly after, leaving you and Nico in the main room alone. Your head is pressed against his chest as you relish in the feeling of his arms encasing you. You could stay there forever if you had the opportunity. 
“Missed you,” Nico bashfully mumbles, making your already red cheeks deepen in color.
“Missed you, too,” You whisper against him.
“I’m excited to show you my home,” He says as he pulls away, his hands lingering on your arms a tad longer than necessary, “I have a lot planned for us.”
The first couple of days Nico showed the two of you around Bern, taking you to all of his favorite spots, and spots he thought the two of you would enjoy. He let you guys have control of when you went, but he gave some guidance because certain places were best to see at certain times. He also gave you the option to say no every time he brought up something he wanted you guys to see, but you never did. Both of you wanted to see everything that you could. 
The third day you were there, Nico mentioned that his parents wanted to host dinner for everyone, but he made it clear you didn’t have to go to that either. He reiterated that it was your trip and if you didn’t want to spend the little time you had with his family, he completely understood. You had given him a pointed look when you told him you would love to go and that it would never be anything except an honor to have them host you for dinner. 
You had spent the majority of the day relaxing and wandering around the city with Charlie while Nico had gone off to do something work related for the morning. The two of you arrived  back at his apartment an hour before you were supposed to leave, and you took turns showering before getting yourselves ready for the dinner. You were sitting on the floor in front of the mirror doing your hair when you noticed a receipt on the floor poking out underneath the table.
Curiosity always gets the best of you, so you reach for the paper and pull it out to look at it. The words were in a language you didn’t really understand, but the date was something you could clearly read. It was dated only a couple of days before your arrival and it had four things listed on it, so you opened your phone to do your best google translating job. 
Mirror. TV. Side table. Comforter set. 
Nico had bought a mirror, the comforter set, the side table, and a goddamn TV for the room before you got there. You’re positive he would’ve done this for anyone who was visiting and staying in his house, but you couldn’t help but let the warm feeling in your chest spread throughout your body. Nico had a big heart and he would always go to great lengths to make those he cared about as comfortable as possible, and regret from all of the times you let your unnecessary feelings push him away flooded your body. 
You didn’t have much time to dwell on that when you heard him walking through the door. Nico quickly popped his head in the room and to tell the two of you he was going to shower and change and then they would head to the train station. You and Charlie finished getting ready and waited for him in the living room, talking about how much fun you were having so far. It didn’t take Nico long to come out of his room freshly showered and changed, and he looked good. 
He had changed into a pair of simple white shorts and he had on a black shirt that had an unrecognizable logo above where his heart was. It wasn’t anything over the top, but it still made you flush with warmth as you looked at him. Charlie elbowed you in the side when she noticed the way your stare lingered on him, a quiet snicker passing through her lips. 
“Are you guys ready,” He asks, his cheeks tinged slightly pink. You assume it’s from how quickly he got ready, but Charlie knew better.
“We’ve been waiting on you,” You tease, playfully rolling your eyes.
“Yeah yeah,” He laughs as carefully brushes past you, “Let’s go then. Our train leaves soon.”
“Why are we taking a train again,” Charlie asks while the two of you follow Nico out of his apartment, letting him lock it behind you.
“It’s the quickest way to my home city. It’s an hour by train and two hours by car,” He says over his shoulder.
The three of you took the short trip to the train station, the car ride full of Charlie practicing her German with Nico who laughed at her attempts, but corrected her with grace. You yourself had recruited Nina’s help in learning and understanding the language, a little too embarrassed to ask for Nico’s help even though you knew he wouldn’t judge you. 
When you arrived at the station, Nico made sure that everyone had everything before guiding the two of you inside. It was busier than you thought, but Nico said most things there were since it was the summer months. His eyes kept glancing behind him to make sure the two of you were behind him, and he made sure to give you a small smile each time you made eye contact with him. He could tell you were becoming overwhelmed at the amount of people, and he wanted to take your hand in his own to calm you down, but he knew he couldn’t do that.
When you finally made it onto the train, Nico guided you to your seats, gesturing for the two of you to sit before he did. You took the seat by the window, and Charlie gave you a subtle wink as she took the seat across from you instead of next to you. You carefully narrowed your eyes at her, but she looked away with a smug look on her face. 
Nico took the seat next to you as the three of you fell into a comfortable silence. You kept your hands clasped in your lap, silently cursing Charlie but simultaneously thanking her at the same time. She was only doing what you were scared to do. The feeling of his thigh pressed against your own made your mind hazy as you kept your eyes trained on the platform outside of the window, watching as people rushed by. 
Charlie, who couldn’t stay quiet longer than five minutes to save her life, started asking about what the rest of the week had in store even though he’d told you a hundred times. Nico indulged Charlie’s questions, though his eyes kept flitting to you as you stayed quiet in your seat. He wanted to ask you if you were okay, but he felt like it wasn’t the place for that. Though you were fine, except for the always impending realization that your feelings for the man next to you seemed to grow every day.
You started joining in on the conversation not too long after the train ride started. It was a mixture of topics ranging from what you were going to do now that you graduated to Charlie’s complicated relationship with Jack. Charlie had noticed the way both you and Nico had subconsciously shifted your bodies towards each other, but she chose to silently observe rather than embarrass you both like you did to her. 
When the train reached the station in Nico’s hometown, you couldn’t help but feel slightly nervous. You felt as if you had to make a good impression on Nico’s parents and you were nervous that you were going to screw it up. What if your outfit was too much? Too little? What if you tried to speak to them in their native language and you embarrassed yourself?
Both Charlie and Nico could see the worry on your face, and she gave it a moment to see if he would step in. She watched him hesitate, but ultimately had backed down so she could step in. Charlie grasped your hand in her own, giving it a gentle squeeze as the two of you followed Nico out towards where Luca said he would be waiting. 
As soon as the brothers saw each other, they were loudly greeting each other as they pulled the other into their embrace. You couldn’t help but notice the way his entire face lit up the moment he saw his brother. You weren’t used to him looking so truly carefree that it put a smile on your face, and it made you wish that he could feel that happiness all the time. 
Nico lets go of his brother and introduces him to the two of you. Luca, much like his sister did, tugs you into his arms as he says, “So nice to meet you. Nico has told me a lot.”
Your face instantly heats up, as does Nico’s as you step out of Luca’s hold and keep your gaze on the ground. Charlie quietly mumbles about how much she loves this family before letting Luca hug her aswell. You are intensely aware of Nico’s proximity to you, but you’re too flustered to glance at him. Truthfully, he’s a little embarrassed himself that his brother exposed him so freely.
“Well, let’s get going,” Luca claps his hands together, “Mom is excited to see everyone.”
The ride to their home was fairly short, but Nico and Luca pointed out a few of their favorite spots from when they were children. It was a cute town, full of life and character that most towns in the United States could only dream of having. Each new thing you saw had you completely enamored, and furthered the idea that you could stay forever. 
The four of you climbed out of the car and headed towards the house, and you had forced yourself to put on your best facade of confidence to mask the nerves that rippled from your chest. Charlie looked nervous herself, but the both of you knew it was for a far different reason than you were. 
You admired the outside of his parent’s home as you walked up the path to the front door. It was nothing grand, but it was beautiful. They had a blooming garden tucked underneath what you assumed is the window in the main room. They had adorable outdoor trinkets perfectly littered in the yard, and they even had the most beautiful bird bath you’d ever seen.
Luca opened the front door, announcing your arrival as he gestured for you guys to follow him inside. You guys step into the entryway, toeing your shoes off in lieu of Luca and Nico. You let your eyes wander around you, taking in all the pictures that decorate the walls. A small smile makes its way on your face when you notice a picture of Nico when he was younger dressed as one of the Ninja Turtles for what you’re assuming was Halloween. Though with children, it could’ve been a random Tuesday afternoon. 
Your heart slams into your rib cage as the voices of Nico’s parents fill your ears, shortly followed by the sound of footsteps approaching you. Nico watches as you fiddled with your fingers and chewed on your bottom lip, and he’s brought back to the moment he first saw you. You were sporting a similar worried look, and you were even wearing a similar dress. The one thing that hadn’t changed, though, was that Nico still thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world.
“Hallo, meine söhne,” Nico’s mother softly speaks as she wraps her arms around Luca, followed by Luca. (Hello, my sons)
“Hallo mama,” Nico greets, returning her affection, “This is Y/N and Charlie.”
“Oh, hello,” She beams, her accent thick and clasping her hands in front of her as she looks at you, “It’s so nice to finally meet you two! I’m Katja. Do you mind if I give you a hug? We are huggers in this family!’
“Of course,” You shyly smiled, stepping into her outstretched arms. Her embrace brought a sort of comfort to you that made you feel at ease and welcomed. 
“Sie ist sehr schön, Nico. Warum ist sie nicht schon wieder deine Freundin,” She teases as she looks at her youngest child, though you can only understand a few words of what she said. (She's very beautiful, Nico. Why isn't she your girlfriend again?)
“Er ist eine muschi,” Luca laughed, earning a shove from his brother. (He’s a pussy)
Katja let go of you as she passed you an adoring smile, turning around to briefly scold her two boys before pulling Charlie into a hug. You let your eyes fall on Nico and you noticed the way his neck and cheeks had reddened, so whatever his mother and brother said must’ve been poking fun at him. You weren’t entirely sure what they had said, but you made out the words ‘beautiful’, ‘why’, and ‘she’. 
“Where’s dad,” Nico asks, clearing his throat as he slightly steps towards you.
“In the kitchen. Nina and Finn said they will be here soon as well,” She smugly smiles at the way her son seems to drift towards you, whether he’s aware of it or not.
“Is there anything I can help with,” You speak up, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat. 
“Absolutely not! You are a guest here. You kids go in the main room and chat. Dinner will be done soon,” She waved the four of you off, subtly raising her eyebrows at Nico as he passes by her. 
Nico trails behind you as the four of you fall into the living room, and it’s almost like Charlie and Luca had made a silent agreement to force you and Nico by each other when they sat on the sofa and stretched their limbs out. You playfully roll your eyes at your friend as you sat on the smaller sofa, Nico shaking his head as he took the seat next to you. You ignore Charlie who keeps glancing at the empty recliner, instead focusing on Luca as he begins asking the two of you about your time so far.
Nina and Finn arrive not too long after, the middle child taking immediate notice to the way her brother has his arm loosely slung around the back of the cushion behind you and the way you seemed to lean into him. Luca had taken over the recliner so the couple could sit on the couch, Charlie greeting them before everyone fell back into conversation. 
Rino, Nico’s father, comes in when the six of you are discussing potential plans for later in the evening and announces that dinner is ready. A trail of hungry stomachs file into the dining area, everyone taking seats at the table. Katja is on one end followed by Nico, you, and Charlie while the others are on the other side with Nina directly across from you. 
“What do you girls do for a living,” Rino asks as they begin passing food around the table.
“We actually just graduated. I majored in digital marketing, and I landed an internship with Ralph Lauren,” You bashfully admitted at the slight bragging moment. 
“Congratulations! Nico told us about that, I believe,” Katja nonchalantly added.
Your face flushed as you take the dish from Nico’s hands, his eyes full of mortified apology. Charlie comes to your rescue by going on about her own major, the attention shifting on to her instead of you. You weren’t necessarily embarrassed by the things they had been saying, it just caught you off guard. They were making it increasingly difficult to deny yourself the pleasure of knowing that he didn’t feel the same. It was causing a war within your brain and heart.
The rest of the dinner went by with minimal teasing comments, and you had a fantastic time. You felt slightly guilty when his family would stumble over their English, and you made a point to tell them they didn’t have to do that the entire time. Katja was quick to wave you off and say that it was no problem and they needed to practice. However, you and Charlie both said you needed to practice too, so you compromised. You would speak to them in German and they would speak to you in English. It did not go very well on your end.
You refused to let his parents clean up dinner without your help, telling them how disappointed your mother would be if she found out you didn’t help. Once they realize you’re not backing down they end up letting you help Nico with the dishes while Charlie and Nina are tasked with cleaning the table. Luca and Finn corral Katja and Rino into the living, telling them to relax before they pick up the leftover tasks.
“Sorry about my family,” Nico quietly speaks after a brief silence, taking the dishes you hand him to dry.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” You laugh, “I love them. They’re amazing.”
“Yeah, but I mean the- I’m sorry about their comments,” He shyly admits, clearing his throat as he intently analyzes the plate in his hands.
Your movements still, the warm water running over the dishes as you let your gaze settle on him. The light above the sink illuminates his face in a way that’s almost certainly angelic. His brown eyes seemingly deepen in color under the light, and it makes your knees weak even though he isn’t even looking at you. His Adam's apple bobs as your silence starts to worry him, but when he turns his head he sees you’re already looking at him.
He sees the ghost of a smile toying at your lips when he meets your eyes. Your hair has delicately fallen in your face, and he knows you’ve tried to push it back countless times only for it to happen again. He knew it bugged you, and before he could realize what he was doing, he had placed the plate on the counter and he was reaching for the loose strands.
When you saw Nico’s hand reaching for you, you breath caught in your throat and you swear your heart stopped beating. You kept his gaze, your eyes slightly wider in anticipation as his fingers grazed your cheek. He pushed the hair that had annoyingly fallen in your face behind your ear, your mouth dropping open when he kept his palm against your cheek. 
The two of you stare at each other, nothing but the sound of the running water filling your ears. His thumbs moves in the smallest of movements against your skin that you almost don’t feel it, but the action still sends shivers down your spine. Your breathing stutters, and you swear that he starts to move closer to you, but you’re interrupted.
“Are you guys do–,” Luca’s voice cuts through the tension between you, causing the two of you to spring apart, “Oh, I’m very sorry. Carry on, but we do want to leave soon.”
Luca has a smug smile on his face, one that rivals the many you’ve seen on Jack. He hastily walks backwards out of the kitchen, but not before tossing his brother a wink. Humiliation fills your veins as you quietly go back to washing the last few dishes in silence, not trusting yourself to speak. However, Nico mistakes your silence as a sign that he had misread the situation and he puts all of his focus on getting done.
The two of you finish not too long after, filtering out into the main room where the others are waiting to leave. There was no subtlety in their glances, but you ignored it and walked to stand by Charlie before they began going over the plan again. The six of you were going to some bar that they love and meet up with some of Nico’s old friends before coming back to sleep.
After everyone was in agreement, you split into two cars and made your way to the bar. Charlie was texting you the entire drive, trying to get the details of what happened in the kitchen, but you told her it was nothing. She didn’t believe you, saying she’s been third wheeling the whole time and there’s just no way it was nothing. Though she dropped it when you asked her how Jack was doing, noting that he hadn’t been texting you nearly as often as her. 
When you arrived at the destination, you filed out of the car and fell in line with Nina and Finn as they led the way inside. Nerves were pricking your skin the closer you got, suddenly feeling more out of place than you had the entire trip. You were no longer going to be surrounded by strangers, you were going to be surrounded by people from Nico’s life here. The thought alone made you nauseous. 
Luca trailed behind you as you walked inside and through the sea of people, quite a few of them greeting Nico and his siblings with smiles and hello’s. You felt small when their gazes would fall on you and Charlie, your mind wandering to the most anxious thoughts of what they could be saying about you. With one glance at you, Nico could see through the thin veil of calmness you had draped over yourself.
As Nina and Finn settled at the table, Nico was leaning down to your ear as he spoke, “Do you want to go with me to get a drink?”
You quickly nodded, knowing the alcohol would help ease some of the nerves. You asked Charlie if she wanted anything, but she said she was fine for now and that she would get something later. You followed Nico up to the bar, making a few stops so he could talk to someone, sitting on the bar stool he gestured to. 
Nico placed his hand on the exposed part of the seat, his arm pressed against your back as he leaned forward to order a round of drinks for everyone. You tried not to let the effects of his touch show, but anyone who knew you could see that it left you frazzled. He looks down at you, giving you a small smile to attempt and bring you some sort of comfort, and it works at first. Until you hear the sound of a delicate voice directly behind you.
“Nico! Ich wusste nicht, dass du in der Stadt bist.” (​​Nico! I didn't know you were in town.)
You glance over your shoulder, noticing the way Nico quickly retracts his arm to his side as he slightly turns towards her. A beautiful blonde girl stands there with a bright smile on her face, and it feels like an exceptionally harsh reminder that you were virtually nobody even more so here than you were in Jersey. You watch as they engage in a brief conversation you barely understood before she looks at you.
“Uh, Y/N, this is Julia. She’s an old friend,” Nico awkwardly introduces, not looking away from her as you turn towards them.
You try not to read too far into his body language, but he makes it difficult when he completely turns away from you. He angles himself so that he’s covering a quarter of your body, and it makes your body heat up in embarrassment. You cast your eyes to the ground, but what the girl in front of you says nearly knocks the wind out of you.
“Don’t be silly, Nico. I’m his ex-girlfriend.”
next part
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soobszzn · 8 months
Text
distant affection
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synopsis: doing everyday tasks wasn’t a hassle when jungkook was with you - even if that meant you were miles apart.
pairing: ldr!jungkook x reader
genre: fluff, established + long distance relationship
content/warnings: long distance relationship and all things associated, mentions of food, jungkook is still an idol, brief (lol) mention of jungkook and his sexy calvin klein endorsement, use of “my love” in a teasing (& affectionate) context
wc: 1.8k
a/n: sorry this is so late!!! love u, S🌸
-
you knew navigating a long distance relationship with the jeon jungkook would have its ups and downs. obviously, the time difference messed with you both. one person would be asleep when the other was awake, and even if you were awake at the same time, one of you would usually have to attend to other things.
the both of you made it work, though. you’d send each other pictures throughout the day and squeeze in video calls wherever you could. you’d mail each other gifts when you couldn’t be together for special occasions. when jungkook had a couple days off, you’d use it to have long movie dates online in which he would usually fall asleep first. but you didn’t mind.
during his longer breaks, he’d always make it a point to come visit you. the two of you would go sight-seeing in your own city or take a short trip to the next town over. you loved doing anything and everything with him, but the most enjoyable moments were in the mundane. you loved moments where you’d scroll on your phones together on the couch or tease each other while you brushed your teeth before bed.
saying goodbye was always the hardest. there wasn’t anything that could really make missing him hurt less. but while helping him pack during his last visit, you took advantage of when he snuck off to the bathroom and stole a hoodie out of his suitcase. you’d hoped he hadn’t noticed.
munching on your midday meal, you scrolled on your phone before getting a video call from your boyfriend. it was a welcome surprise, so you answered right away.
“hey! what are you doing awake right now? isn’t it like five in the morning?” his phone was looking at the ceiling and you heard music playing in the background. colorful lights speckled his ceiling, and you knew he was again enjoying the galaxy light projector you gifted him last christmas.
“i have a free day tomorrow! and i really wanted to talk to you!” he yelled, indicating he was far from his phone.
you smiled to yourself, appreciating your boyfriend and his sweet gesture. you guessed that with how busy he was recently, he’d be dead tired by the time he came home. but, the fact that you were the first thing on his mind made your heart leap. you then heard the faint music in the background cease, and watched as jungkook propped his phone up, front camera now facing him.
he was leaning on his kitchen counter, sleeve tattoo fully on display. his hair was long and fluffy, his bangs reaching his eyes. you could tell he was tired, but nothing could hide how handsome he was.
you noticed him stare intently into the phone screen. “what are you staring at?” you questioned with a laugh.
“you’re eating lunch right now, right? i’m hungry! let’s eat together!” he said excitedly. jungkook then adjusted his phone so that you had the perfect view of him busy at his stove. you watched as he began tossing things into his pan. you chuckled softly.
“what are you cooking?” you asked curiously, your head now resting in your hand.
“i’m just throwing stuff together, see?” he answered, now panning his phone to what looked like fried rice.
you giggled, now panning your phone to the makeshift fried rice you made for yourself just earlier. the two of you erupted into laughter.
“pretend i made that for you, okay?” you teased, setting your phone back down and taking another bite.
as jungkook finished preparing his meal, you asked him about his schedule for the day. he complained that he had a lot to do in the upcoming days because he had an international schedule set for next week.
“are you sure that’s not just code for coming to visit me?” you half-joked. you knew he was currently busy with solo activities, and it hadn’t been too long since he last visited. but there was always a small part of you that hoped any time he left korea, it was because he was on his way to you.
eventually, he ended up at his kitchen table, phone propped up as if you were sitting across from each other. after taking his first bite, he exclaimed with amazement at his own kitchen creation.
“wahh! wow!” he cried, intentionally being overdramatic. you laughed at his silly theatrics, but you found it all endearing nonetheless.
“want a bite?” he teased, holding a spoonful up to his phone. you proceeded to imitate receiving a bite, and the two of you laughed.
while enjoying your respective meals, you continued to chat about small and pointless things. despite the uneventful topics of conversation, eating together like this made you crave real dates with him. ones where he’d take you to a fancy restaurant for dinner or a small cafe for some coffee. you made a mental note to take him to a new brunch place that opened up the next time he visited.
“what else are you planning to do today?” he asked, making his way to his sink. you followed suit, thinking it would be cute to wash dishes “together.”
“whatever you’re planning to do today.” you replied warmly.
the two of you then washed your dishes simultaneously. your video call now filled with the sounds of water running and dishes clanking, with jungkook occasionally breaking into song or humming a familiar tune.
“i have some laundry i need to fold actually,” he mused afterwards, taking a quick scan of his home.
“i do too!” you replied excitedly at the convenient coincidence.
now, with both phones propped up in your respective living rooms, the two of you dove into your piles of laundry. you chatted about new music you were listening to, books you wanted to read, and the new spider-man movie that jungkook was excited to see.
when jungkook began tackling his pile of underwear, he started showcasing the new pieces he received from calvin klein.
“oh my god! what are those!” you laughed. the two of you giggled at the brightly coloured pairs that he was holding up to his phone. although not his typical style, you were glad one of his solo activities included being the endorser for such a popular - and sexy - brand.
you finished folding first, so you adjusted yourself comfortably on your sofa and watched jungkook continue. jungkook took a glance at you and smiled to himself.
“what?” you questioned with a pout.
“you look cute,” he answered with a soft chuckle. you were cuddled up on your couch, encompassed snugly within a throw blanket jungkook had previously gifted you. you hid your face in your hands bashfully.
as he finished folding his clothes, jungkook opted to play some of his music recommendations through his television. he’d softly sing along as you listened intently, chiming in with short remarks here and there.
“i like this one,” you commented after one of the songs ended.
“ah! why don’t i just sing for you, my love?” he suggested suddenly with a teasing tone.
“ew, no, don’t call me that!” you replied with fake disgust. you and jungkook would typically just call one another by your names, so the sudden use of a nickname both surprised and flustered you.
“but go ahead then, mr. jeon.” you continued, previous shyness now replaced with an intrigued arrogance.
after quickly setting up his karaoke machine, jungkook then turned to you smugly with his microphone in hand. he started out his late night - or perhaps early morning - performance with a couple songs related to inside jokes the two of you shared. you watched fondly as jungkook happily sang along to the upbeat pop music.
“don’t go overboard and strain your voice,” you gently reminded him.
“of course, my love.” he teased you again, with a wink this time. you playfully shot him a repulsed look in response.
following his high-spirited warm-up session, he then transitioned to singing his own music. in an attempt to impress your world-class entertainer of a boyfriend, you would sing along using bts fanchants and passionately wave around an imaginary army bomb. jungkook - while still seated on his sofa - would mimic the choreography as he ventured through his groups’ discography.
after running through a couple bts tracks, jungkook then transitioned to serenading you with songs he knew were your favourites. you gazed at him warmly, now completely immersed in him and his voice. although you’d hear him speak practically every day, you never tired of his soft and angelic singing.
through your now heavy eyelids, you noticed your boyfriends’ energy start to deplete as well. he had stopped dancing and moving around as dynamically as earlier, now only swaying back and forth on his couch. you were still comfortably curled up on your couch, now fighting the urge to slip into an afternoon nap.
“are you getting sleepy?” he asked softly after finishing another song.
“no, not at all,” you mumbled, shaking your head at him with a pout.
“alright, you liar.” he taunted playfully. you noticed him place his microphone down beside him, perhaps signalling that he was finished with his karaoke performance.
“wait! one more song!” you cried out in a sudden panic. you didn’t want this moment of bliss to end so soon. the two of you hadn’t had such a long call together in a while, so you wanted to indulge in this moment as much as you could.
“please. just one more song.” you implored, trying to persuade him with forced “puppy dog eyes.”
jungkook conceded with a sly smile, picking up his microphone again. then, ever so swiftly, you heard a slow and soft tune start to play. you allowed yourself to close your eyes, completely immersing yourself in jungkook’s melodic and affectionate final serenade to you.
before the song even concluded, you had fully fallen asleep on your couch. jungkook noticed this, finishing up the song quietly so as to not wake you suddenly. his lips curled into a soft grin as he watched you fall deeper into your slumber.
after tidying up his living room, he made his way to his bedroom with the hopes of getting some rest of his own. he propped you up beside him on his bed, as if the two of you were sleeping next to one another.
then, before succumbing to his own heavy eyelids, he jokingly whispered into his phone: “by the way, i know you have my hoodie.”
but he hoped you hadn’t heard.
1K notes · View notes
izvmimi · 3 months
Text
When you finally move into Yuuji’s small apartment, a few days after your college graduation, and with the last of your treasured belongings stuffed into two suitcases he’s carried for you from the train station, it finally hits you.
This is it. 
It’s not the first time you’ve been here, and obviously it won’t be the last, but there’s some sort of an emotion that sits heavily in your chest, that brings you to near tears, not unlike the time he first told you that he loved you, selfishly despite living on borrowed time, but yet still different - weighted down with immense hope and affection.
This is your home now. You, as in you and Yuuji. You’ll return to roost in the same place every night, you’ll share hundreds, thousands of meals together, you’ll murmur your unfiltered, unprocessed thoughts to each other in the dead of the night, inches apart with one side of the bed preferred over the other and nowhere else to hurry to before the trains and taxis stop.
There will be fewer goodbyes, and more good mornings and good nights. There will be furniture (the good kind) and fixtures that you’ll keep for longer than a couple school years, knick-knacks you’ll buy for each other and lose all over the home, surfaces you’ll stain with sweat, and tears, and blood and other things, laughter that will bounce off the walls and piss off your neighbors. 
Those same walls are bare, and you’ll fill them with pictures of him and you, and all your friends and family, and whoever you meet in your lives together and-
You glance at Yuuji and find that he’s not focused on you, rather scratching his head nervously as his eyes search frantically for dust or dirt he’s failed to clear away, anything he forgot to repair, anything lewd, anything carelessly messy. It’s one thing to have your girlfriend over for winter or summer break, and yet it’s another to put her on her lease, he’s aware, with the expectation to never part.
A new start, wrapped within a still blossoming love story. 
“Is it okay?” He asks finally, a tiny waver of apprehension in his voice. Neither of you have moved since he set your things down, facing forward. Both of your thoughts are racing, your hearts thump relentlessly in your chests. He sighs, voice light. “Work’s kept me so busy so I’m sorry if it’s too messy, I promise I’m not a slob.” 
He grips the handle of your suitcases again, ready to trudge his way to his - your - bedroom, as if any more hesitation will allow you to change your mind. You turn your face in his direction suddenly, and he catches the movement, looking at you with curiosity.
“I love you.”
The declaration comes out before you realize what you’re saying, and immediately you’re embarrassed, but Yuuji’s eyes light up, and his lips pull into a smile. Moving quickly, he lets go of the load he’s carrying, and cups your face in his hands and leans in. He doesn’t kiss you yet, but your lips part anyway, and his eyes shine brightly with devotion.
“I love you more. Welcome home.”
His lips press against yours and you let your arms wrap around his neck, and in that kiss is a promise that no matter what, you’ll always come home and neither he, nor you, will ever be alone again.
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jenscx · 3 months
Text
LET ME IN — yu jimin x f!reader
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you return to your hometown after being overseas for years. there was no possible way for you to anticipate your old high school sweetheart waiting at the airport.
TAGS — angst, little fluff, exes to lovers, happy ending, high school sweetheart, cursing
WORDCOUNT — 5.1k
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the sweater that you had picked out today, feels unfamiliar on your skin. it’s the one which reads, ‘seniors of 2018’. it’s the one you had never gone near, leaving it to rot in your closet. it’s the one that holds the most painful memories for you. how could a piece of clothing cause you so much pain?
frankly, you know why. it’s the one jimin had given to you as you left for the train to the airport. “something to remember me by,” she had stated after pulling it over the top of your head.
you had huffed, playfully asking, “how could i ever forget you?”
your closet had witnessed your stares— or rather glares at the sweater. not until an hour had passed, when you finally heaved a sigh and grabbed it off the hanger that was situated at the corner of the closet. it’s just because it’s comfortable, you had reasoned before. and it didn’t matter what you wore underneath the puffer jacket, it would end up covered.
of course, these were all excuses, trying to deny the very fact that it just reminded you of jimin. and you were very welcoming towards such reminders.
reminders of what?
you shake your head, picturing a blank canvas before the melodic laughter filled your ears. jimin’s laugh.
the screeching of your luggage’s wheels distract you. aeri’s standing at the door, a hand on your suitcase.
“hey girl,” she checks the watch on her wrist, “we gotta go. flight’s at 2.”
you nod, ignoring the fact that you had spent almost two whole hours thinking about the repercussions of returning back to… home? could you even call it that?
aeri seems to notice your inner turmoil, since in the taxi, she places a comforting hand over yours, sending you a small smile. while it didn’t really settle your nerves, you appreciated the effort nonetheless.
the journey to the boarding gate is like a fever dream. your airpods betraying you, randomly shuffling to a girls’ generation song. it was like a cry back to the past, when you and jimin would listen to girls’ generation songs together.
for jimin, you had complied.
you open your eyes, you can only see the back of someone’s head above the aeroplane’s seat. if you keep your eyes closed for too long, you might start to envision a blur of jimin’s perfect eyes, her nose, her lips that were always pursed in disappointment when she caught you and minjeong stealing her snacks…
the realisation that you can’t remember the face that once made you the happiest girl on the planet hits hard. it hits harder than the guilt and misery you felt when jimin, a week after you had left korea, sent a flurry of messages that went unresponded.
“i didn’t know you liked girls’ generation,” aeri comments. startled, you stare at your phone, the lock screen wallpaper being jimin’s back displaying girls’ generation’s holiday night baseball t-shirt. the girl had forced you to buy matching ones with her, you recall bitterly.
“i don’t,” you answer coolly, swiftly turning off your phone. aeri eyes you weirdly but eventually lets you off the hook and leans back into her seat.
the rest of the thirteen hours flight, you busy yourself with work— leftovers from the time before break, drafts of sketches, thesis statements and long-winded essays. while a plane was not the best environment to finish a full drawing, you could at least make some rough sketches. somehow, your pencil graphite gravitates from sturdy, concrete buildings to soft cheekbones, hooded eyes, pouty lips.
shit, you blink, taking in your subconscious sketch of a woman, familiar to your past.
almost instantly shutting your sketchbook shut, you ignore the implications of what your mind was telling you. the crew neck sweater itches at your neck. it’s almost like the words embroidered on the cotton burn into your heart, to always make you remember and recall the time before messy relationships, longing feelings and just enjoying the present time.
time. you didn’t have much of it anyway.
maybe this trip would allow you to make peace with the past. you wouldn’t flinch whenever your friends would talk about league of legends champion, ‘katarina’, or you wouldn’t immediately decline movie night with aeri in fear that one of the actresses would look eerily similar to jimin.
allowing your brain to wander past your comfort zone, you wonder what she's doing now. was she a flight stewardess? did she manage to finally get better at pubg? was her favourite colour still blue? did she still have that sparkle in her eyes when food was brought up?
the last thought makes you chuckle, reminiscing how excited jimin was whenever food was involved. when yizhuo would bring back mala snacks from china, jimin would be gone in a flash.
(so would yizhuo’s snacks, you can’t count the number of times you were forced to lie about who the perpetrator was.
maybe it was worth it when jimin would beam at you, flashing a bright smile that rivalled the shine of diamonds).
with bittersweet memories, you drift off. sleepless nights made up for, by just giving yourself permission to think about her.
you dream of crashing waves, two people on the shore, just sitting down and gazing at the scenery. the sunset’s everlasting in this timeline. like time doesn’t exist and all they did was stare at the deep ocean.
before you even get to see their faces, the announcement rings throughout the flight.
you sigh deeply, catching the attention of aeri.
“you okay? you slept so soundly, i thought you died,” the japanese girl asks worriedly. you laugh, it was the best sleep you ever got, and it was on an aeroplane.
strange how our consciousness works.
“i’m good,” this time you weren’t lying.
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you stare at the glass doors, wondering if minjeong had told anyone else to come fetch you. it wasn’t a far fetched thought, maybe the girl had asked yizhuo to come as well. the chinese girl would kill minjeong if she didn’t tell her about your arrival back in korea after what? three, almost four years?
“hey, i asked my friend to pick us up and she might have brought someone else,” you warn aeri.
“oh that’s fun… why do you sound so scared?”
“because, the other girl is a little overbearing,” you scoff, “she might try to climb you, just a warning.”
aeri widens her eyes as you two drag your luggage to the gates.
she gapes, “no kidding? is she a koala or something?”
“something like that,” you shrug.
the doors open. it’s your first step (not really) into korea. the air is the same anywhere else, but the feeling isn’t.
it’s the feeling of uncertainty. the feeling of fear. aeri clasps your free hand tightly in hers, sensing your hesitance.
your gaze glides over the crowd of people waiting for their own family. aeri makes a noise of recognition and she pulls you to the side, you finally spot someone familiar.
“minjeong…!” you call out, voice going silent at the sight of a girl that is most definitely not minjeong.
it’s not yizhuo either, that’s for sure.
“did minjeong get plastic surgery or something?”
you want to run.
“because… that’s not— that’s not minjeong,” you whisper, “that’s yu jimin.”
aeri deadpans, “you say that like i know who the hell she is.”
you want to kill minjeong. and maybe jimin wants to kill aeri with how hard she’s glaring at her.
jimin only trots slowly towards you.
jimin’s eyes dart from aeri’s face back to yours, her hard, cold gaze trailing down to your sweater that has come uncovered by the puffer jacket. your eyes narrow when she raises an eyebrow at you, as if asking you, “why are you wearing that?”
you don’t answer her, because you don’t know either.
“i’m jimin, y/n’s—”
“friend,” you interrupt, quickly turning away to avoid the flash of hurt on jimin’s face.
the mentioned girl recovers quickly, putting on a fake smile, “classmate of y/n from high school.”
“i’m uchinaga aeri, y/n’s roommate, thank you for picking us up!” aeri grins widely, ignoring the deadly lasers pointing her way.
“where are you staying, if i may ask?” jimin’s sharp tone doesn’t go unnoticed by you.
“with y/n—”
you cover aeri’s mouth, knowing how jimin gets, “it’s none of your business.”
your roommate makes a noise of indignation and licks a long strip across your palm. you groan, taking it off her mouth and wiping it on her jacket.
“that’s so gross,” you mutter in english.
“your english has gotten better,” jimin notes as the three of you walk to her car.
you don’t know what to say, so you stay silent.
“where do you stay, jimin-ssi?” aeri makes small talk to cover up the awkward silence. you thank her internally.
jimin stares at you through the mirror, “with y/n.”
you bite your lip, nervous at what jimin might say next. you had never told aeri about your complicated relationship with jimin and you didn’t plan to. only because of kim minjeong meddling in, now it seems like everything has to be uncovered again.
“she’s a bad roommate, right?” surprisingly, aeri ignores jimin’s statement and instead continues to complain about you.
you’re shocked, to say the least. you thought aeri would have started blabbing and asking probing questions about your past roommate situation. or maybe she noticed your sullen look.
“i thought four years would have been enough for her to change her bad habits,” jimin says.
you know for a fact she isn’t talking about the same thing as aeri. jimin was even worse than you as a roommate; eating your secret snack stash, never cleaning up the pile of laundry she had in her room and always invading your alone time in bed.
“many things have changed,” you mumble, “i’m not the same as before.”
the car goes silent, jimin probably analysing your words while aeri pouts, confused by the strange tension you had with your so-called friend.
“if you desire something enough, you’d want it to stay the same forever.”
you retort, “change is inevitable.”
aeri says quietly in the corner, “i know the guy who said that, his name is like john, or something.”
struggling to keep your laughter silent, you splutter in aghast at aeri’s sudden general knowledge.
“you’re so strange,” you comment.
aeri laughs, “i know, but you like me for that, right?”
(“—only had a brain the size of a walnut, that’s why the stegosaurus was one of the dumbest dinosaurs!” jimin reads out loud from your bed.
you stand at your vanity, finishing up your skincare, trying not to laugh at jimin’s absurd dinosaur facts, “you’re so weird.”
“you like that about me though?”)
you sense how intimate the conversation feels for the both of you, so you stop answering aeri and instead focus on jimin. her grip on the steering wheel has tightened significantly, eyes burning with something you can’t identify.
“you’re being annoying again, go to sleep or something, it’s a long drive from here to my house—” you halt in the middle of your sentence, finally questioning the very fact of… why?
why is yu jimin here? even if minjeong asked her to, why? the jimin you knew would never do this. the jimin you knew would never give up her sleeping time just to fetch an old friend, who she maybe had something going on with, and a stranger? yizhuo had friends from china who were visiting, and even then, jimin refused to fetch them from the airport. she was the only one in your friend group with a licence so it only made sense to ask her.
you try to bury yourself in the sweater even more. it was fine for now. seeing jimin in the flesh. but maybe you were so jet lagged that you hadn’t made sense of the situation yet.
the only sensible thing to do for now, was to let yourself escape into dreamland and wait for the morning after.
you can only anticipate it would be full of awkward silence, tension-filled gazes, hesitant actions.
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it’s difficult to fall asleep. you decide to blame your insomnia on the nap you had during the flight. even when you know it’s because of the deeply asleep body, separated by a thin wall.
you’re sitting upright, staring at the unveiled moon. it’s stunning, not like the sun which literally glares. the moon is calming, easing you into the next day, all while making you feel… loneliness.
how could you feel lonely even with so many people around you?
(“do you think soulmates exist?” you had asked, curious of jimin’s take on such tales.
the girl seems taken aback, but she ultimately replies, “if they do, i think you’re mine.”)
you clench the duvet in your fists tightly, mind grasping at any other thought than of yu jimin. it’s unfortunate that you seem to enjoy the pain and torture past memories bring with how often your brain wanders through them.
maybe it’s time to come clean with yourself.
you were back in your hometown. you were staying in the same apartment as you did before you left. one that you shared with yu jimin; one that you called home.
eyes starting to become watery, you wipe them off and take a seat at your desk. if you were going to stay awake the rest of the night, might as well get work done. pulling out your sketchbook, the first page to be opened is the drawing of jimin from the flight. the realisation slaps you.
how long would it take someone to get over the love of their life?
for you, maybe eternity.
the door creaks open slightly. your head turns sharply, hand instinctively covering the drawing.
“y/n…?”
“jimin,” you inhale, “why are you still awake?”
she doesn’t bother to answer you and instead chooses to sit on your bed. once you notice the pyjamas she’s wearing, you feel daggers stab into your heart. it’s one of your many matching pyjamas with her. you hadn’t touched any of them since you left korea.
“are you dating aeri?” she asks.
you know what she’s secretly trying to ask.
“no, she’s just a friend.”
“that’s what they always say,” jimin scoffs. her tone doesn’t sit right with you.
with a sudden urge to defend your friendship with aeri, you shoot back, “i recall you saying that about lee jeno too.”
your words clearly strike a chord in jimin, her eyes widen, hurtful remarks at the tip of her tongue. yet, she merely looks away. you hate how beautiful she looks in the moonlight.
“y’know, technically we’re still dating.”
“what are you talking about?” you ask, bewildered.
jimin rolls her eyes, “we never explicitly broke up, you only ghosted me. technically we’re still together.”
“stop spouting nonsense.”
the girl only pouts in annoyance. you hate how your heartstrings tug at her cute expression. right now, yu jimin had to be anything but cute.
“and i didn’t ghost you, i was busy.” the lie slips out easily, revealing how used you are to saying it. jimin, of course, doesn’t believe you. she had never.
jimin frowns.
“you always say that too.”
she stands up, walking bit by bit closer to you. your hand grips the sketchbook protectively.
placing a hand onto the back of your chair, jimin smirks, leaning in. you hate how attractive she looks.
her now blonde locks form a curtain around your faces, preventing any outsider to peek in and see what you were doing.
“i think you’re a bad friend,” jimin claims.
“what?”
you can’t take your eyes off her fluttering eyelashes, her red nose, probably from the cold, and her eyes filled with determination.
“you lied to aeri,” she whispers, “since when were we ever just friends?”
a lump forms in your throat. your heart constricts. you can barely even say a word. you’re speechless.
“we’re barely even friends, roommates, probably,” you splutter out.
“yeah?”
“yeah.” jimin eyes you with an amused expression, lips twitching with the threat of a big, wide smile. you realise your words bid you no help, only further supplying as a challenge for jimin— for you to admit that you were more than friends. no words needed to be exchanged about that fact, but you being you, after fulfilling years of ghosting, would never admit that you harboured any sort of feelings for jimin after being the main reason why your relationship fell apart.
you would argue that your absence was just a contributing factor. the real trigger came in the form of lee jeno, a man that you could say with your whole heart and soul, you hated with every bone in your body.
after you had left, with a promise to stay in contact with jimin, you realised how hard it was to maintain your relationship status. and when jimin posted countless instagram stories of jeno, you realised again that maybe it was best to break it off.
never in the duration of your ‘ghosting stage’ had you ever told jimin the real reason for your sudden coldness. madly jealous and insecure, you decided to disappear. disappear just from jimin though.
“i’ve always been curious,” jimin pulls back from your intense gaze, “why you started being so distant, cold and indifferent. tell me, will you?”
“that’s just my personality.” a direct white lie, you decide to tell.
“i was heartbroken,” she ignores you and continues her monolouge, “my girlfriend decides to ghost me, and just me. made me think i did something wrong.”
you lick your lips, suddenly feeling your throat constrict up. no longer was this just banter, the conversation was steering into uncharted territory.
“it wasn’t just you,” you desperately argue, trying to direct the conversation away, “moving to another country isn’t easy.”
“you’re pretending our whole relationship didn’t exist. maybe in your eyes it meant nothing, but for me, it was everything. don’t you know every single day i have nightmares? the craziest thing is that all the demons in my nightmares have your smile,” jimin whispers fiercely, “and yet, i stay faithful to those nightmares, even if i wake up crying for someone who didn’t even bother answering my calls. you may have only been in the states, but it felt like you were on another planet. i was the last person to know you were coming back, even though you promised me; promised that if you were to return, i would be the first person to—”
you can’t control yourself. hearing her words makes your blood boil. the pumping of your heart only accelerates further as you lift up your hand, delivering a heavy slap across her face. how dare she? how dare she act as if everything was your fault? how could she accuse your devotion and adoration for her?
“don’t act like you’re the fucking victim, karina,” you hiss, your words even more painful than the stinging red on jimin’s cheek, “the first morning after, i sent you so many texts, barely even seen. then i see your story. were you acting when you said you were sad about me leaving? or were you happy to finally say that you don’t have a girlfriend anymore?”
jimin cradles her cheek in her hand, eyes narrowing when you finally confess the real reason. you can tell she doesn’t remember anything. her not even knowing what she did that made you feel unneeded only drives the blade deeper into your heart.
“drinking at a club with lee jeno,” you say his name with venom, voice gradually getting louder and louder. remembering that aeri’s only a few walls away, you try to control your emotions. “could you not understand how i felt— you said nothing would come between us and the first week away from home, constantly ignoring me for some guy.”
(“call me when your plane lands,” jimin said, playing with the hem of her sweater on you.
“isn’t it gonna be midnight in korea when i land?”
the girl merely chuckles, “i’ll be up all night just to hear your voice.”)
the realisation strikes you like a lightning bolt.
“this was a mistake.”
“what?”
“this… me coming back. i should have just stayed in the states but fuck, i let aeri convince me,” you run your fingers through your tousled hair, stressed. jimin was going to cause you to have white hair.
the redness on jimin’s cheek is still there. you feel slightly guilty for ruining her clear complexion.
“that was just how i coped with you leaving,” jimin explains.
you purse your lips, placing your open palms on jimin’s chest. maybe she thinks you’re about to cave in since she sighs in relief. however, instead of pulling her in, you push her until her back is touching your door.
“i don’t need an explanation, or an apology,” you say firmly, “i need time alone away from you.”
“you’ve had 4 years to yourself,” jimin states bitterly.
“i’m sorry for slapping you, but please, either show me your actions matching your words, or just get out of my life for good.”
jimin sighs again, this one full of exasperation.
“go,” you mutter under your breath.
the knife drives deep into your already ruined heart as you push her away. the girl scoffs, grasping your open palms into her hands, intertwining your fingers.
“if you insist on pushing me away, i’ll get rid of any possibility of us being together again. just let me into your heart again,” she throws your hands away and slams the door. the loud bang echoes in your ears, but not as loudly as her words. it only takes a few seconds for you to collapse onto the floor, sobs wrecking your whole body.
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“morning,” aeri yawns, “i heard a loud bang last night, was that you or is your apartment haunted?”
you drizzle maple syrup onto your stacked pancakes, sending a bittersweet smile to your friend. your night was spent tossing and turning, both guilt and anger consuming you. when the clock ticked at four in the morning, you finally let yourself think about how jimin made you feel. even if she went to drink right after you left, you should have communicated with her instead of ghosting her. you knew for a fact that she was heartbroken based on the numerous texts your friends had sent you.
fuck, you groan into your pillow. getting up from your bed, your eyes roam the room, eventually landing on the sketchbook at your desk. you never finished that drawing on the plane. after considering (or more likely procrastination), you sit down, pouring your hours and feelings into your drawings. countless of them filled up the sketchbook’s pages. the drawings’ subjects all looked eerily similar to jimin. her pointed nose, soft gaze were all captured in the pages. you finally come to terms with it. you were still in love with her. after all, she was your only muse. thinking about her words from before, you knew that she meant them. spending years waiting for someone who was basically a ghost couldn’t have been easy.
you were going to do something about it.
barely getting any sleep last night, you woke up earlier than usual and decided to prepare breakfast. aeri had woken up an hour after, stomach growling and eyes gleaming at the pancakes.
“by the way,” she says, mouth full of pancake, “i’m meeting up with a friend today and she’s bringing someone too. wanna go with me on a double date?”
fate must be messing with you since right as aeri says the words ‘double date’, yu jimin walks in. her hair tousled, puffed cheeks and eyes narrowing. you stiffen, focusing on picking at your pancakes instead. unbeknownst to you, once jimin spots the lone plate of breakfast on the counter, her gaze softens.
“do you know who your friend’s bringing…?” you whisper softly, trying not to catch the attention of jimin.
aeri, although you love her, says in the loudest voice possible, “somi will be your date! i think she’s your type.”
the scraping of the metal fork makes you squeeze your eyes shut, mentally preparing for jimin’s outburst.
“so-mi,” jimin clicks her tongue.
aeri nods, stuffing her face with more food.
she turns to you, “and you’re going on a date with her?”
“double date with me,” aeri clarifies, “don’t worry jimin-ssi, i’ll be there to protect y/n! y’know in college i always had to pick y/n up from her bad dates. her taste in guys suck.”
“seems like her taste in girls has been downgraded,” jimin comments, smirking. you roll your eyes, wanting nothing more than for her to shut up. aeri guffaws, taking out her phone. “i’ll show you somi’s instagram account and you can decide for yourself, y/n,” she says.
you nod, deciding not to say anything in case jimin flares up. somi’s very pretty, anyone would agree. she had her own attractive style and seemed really confident. you liked that. aeri wasn’t wrong to say that somi was your type. it was just unfortunate that your heart was in the hands of another girl.
while scrolling on aeri’s phone, her alarm rings, reading, ‘brunch with yunny.’
“ah! yunjin wanted to meet earlier, just the two of us,” aeri smiles, “text me later if you wanna join!” she stands up from the table. you’re astonished by how fast she managed to finish those pancakes, her stack was evidently taller than yours. jimin glances at you, amazed as well.
“did she inhale those…?”
“i’ve got no fucking clue,” you mumble, digging into your own. jimin only chuckles and you hate how it makes your heart clench up in affection.
the silence is deafening. without aeri, the air thickens with tension between you and jimin, filled with nostalgia and regret. it feels just like last time— you and jimin eating breakfast together at that very same table, giggling about whatever trouble your friends got into the previous day.
“hey, about yesterday—”
“it’s fine,” you interrupt, “is your cheek okay?”
jimin swallows hard, “yes, it doesn’t hurt at all.”
“don’t lie, come here,” you instruct, “i’ve known you for so long, you can’t lie to me.”
she just laughs, showing you the slightly bruised side of her face. you feel guilt wreck you. no matter how angry you were, you shouldn’t have laid a hand on her.
“did you ice it?”
jimin shakes her head. you sigh, getting up and taking an ice pack out of the freezer. it’s too easy for you to return to past habits, moving around the kitchen like it was 2018 and jimin was the love of your life (she still is). wrapping the ice pack in a towel, you inch closer to jimin, holding it to her cheek. she winces slightly and you resist the urge to hold her hand in comfort.
“y/n…”
“hm?”
the girl seems so small now— her posture deflated, eyes barely meeting yours, biting her lip nervously. you have a feeling you know what she’s about to ask.
“are you going on that date with soyoung?” you laugh loudly, catching jimin off guard.
“jimin, her name’s somi.”
pouting, jimin turns away from you, making your hand falter. “hey, i need to ice your face.”
“i won’t let you unless you answer my question.” she’s so childish it’s adorable. the tension has gone, now filled with uncertainty instead.
“i don’t have anyone to spend the afternoon with. minjeong and yizhuo are busy today,” you explain.
“you have me,” she mutters.
ignoring her, you answer, “aeri seemed really excited for us to meet.”
“you spent all your time in the states with her, you should spend time with your friends here,” jimin retorts.
her hesitance to even admit she wants to spend time with you makes you want to tease her.
“oh? you’re right,” jimin perks up like a puppy. cute, you think. “i should text yujin if she wants to go out, remember her? she was our student council president.”
rolling her eyes, jimin swats at your hand nursing her bruise. it’s too easy for you to return to past habits, bantering with jimin like she was the only girl you’ve ever loved (she was).
it’s too easy. between the choice of going out with aeri to meet someone new and staying in with jimin. it’s such an easy choice to make.
you bring the ice pack away from her face, choosing to caress her cheek lovingly instead. she sighs, content, leaning into your touch.
“jimin,” you gulp, “i’m sorry for these past few years.”
her eyes gaze up at you, “it’s okay. i’ve come to terms with it. i honestly wasn’t expecting you to come back.”
“i wasn’t planning to either, but aeri wanted to.”
“good thing she convinced you, huh?” jimin smiles, “at least i know i was the reason for our break up.”
“it’s only a relationship if there are two people,” you say, “it was my fault too.”
her eyes momentarily flicker to your lips, it doesn’t go unnoticed by you.
“i know these years haven’t been easy on both of us, but if you’re willing to, i think i’m okay with giving us a second chance,” you confess, “even if you hurt me again, i still want you. i just want you. you’ve always been the only one in here.” you point at your heart.
jimin’s eyes shoot straight up, finally breaking into a wide smile, “seriously? even after what i said last night? i’m not complaining but like… you were pretty angry. i just wanted to know why you ghosted me and i agree, i deserved it. but why the sudden change?”
“i mean,” you shrug, “it was what you said that made me think about this. i didn’t want you to stop loving me, because i’ve never stopped loving you.”
“you love me?”
“i love you.”
“this is so crazy, you went from slapping me to…” she trails off, grasping your chin and bringing you into a kiss. her lips were so, so, soft. you wondered why you even let her go. once your lips met, you felt her sigh before smiling into your mouth. catching your breath, you run your fingers through her blonde hair.
“still going on that date with suki?”
“jimin, you know her name’s somi.”
“whatever, i love you too.”
670 notes · View notes
bunnyreaper · 5 months
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𝓷𝓸𝓫𝓸𝓭𝔂 𝓭𝓸𝓮𝓼 𝓲𝓽 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓸 𝒶 𝒿𝑜𝒽𝓃 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝒸𝑒 𝓍 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝑒𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝓅𝓉 𝟣 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓅𝓉 3 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒
wc - 5.8k warnings - 18+/nsfw (eventually), mentions of cheating (not from reader or john), older male younger female, future daddy kink, mildly threatening behaviour notes - were going somewhere (hornytown) but not quiiiite yet. i still think there's lots to enjoy here though!! hope you do like reading!! also on ao3! ♥
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"I've got you, everything's going to be okay." He whispers, over and over and over again, chanting it like a prayer.
You let yourself go a little limp in John's embrace, let the feeling of his comforting words and close touch wash over you—for a moment, everything feels right, the rest of the world falls away.
When John pulls away, a literal and metaphorical cold sweeps in, reality tipping over you like a bucket of ice. His hands still settle on your shoulders, but it's simply not enough to fight back against the shivers overtaking your body. The panic starts to kick in again, your chest tightening in response to the ice in your veins. 
John stays stooped close to you, his face inches away from yours as concern radiates from him—you stare up at him glassy-eyed, looking at him for comfort, answers, something. 
"Tell me what you need, love. Anything." His voice is so low, almost desperate to help and to fix things.  
You struggle to think, struggle to summon anything—your mouth opens and closes, your lips trembling every time you try to speak. 
What you want most right now is to fall back into John's arms, to feel that fleeting moment of peace you had just moments ago. What you need is to get away from this place that you've called home for so long, where you feel like the picture-covered walls are closing in—years of memories about to crush you. 
Your eyes screw shut as you force yourself to breathe, to focus only on John's reassuring touch and what comes next. "I need to get out of here." 
As soon as you finish speaking, he springs into action, a hand slips to your back as he guides you up the stairs, one step behind you. "Pack a bag, you can stay in my guest room until you get things figured out." 
You pause mid-step, frozen on the stairs at the weight of John's offer. He'd do that? Have you in his home? "I can't ask you to do that..." 
"You're not asking, I'm offering." He answers tersely, and you can feel him stiffen as he looms behind you, can feel the hand on your back grip ever so slightly. "He's my blood, my fuck-up. I should fix this." 
There's a conviction to John's words, heavy and resolute, quietly angry through and through—it's more passion than you've seen in an age, and he has no real reason. 
He taps you lightly, urging you on, and your body complies without question as you climb the rest of the stairs and lead the way to the bedroom. 
When you pass over the threshold, you freeze—taking in the bed that you'll never sleep in again, the room that isn't really yours any longer. 
It's freeing and paralysing in equal measure. 
John isn't frozen by the same fear, able to fearlessly lead the way as he searches for a bag or suitcase to pile some of your belongings in. "C'mon, get what you need. I can always come back for more, yeah?" 
"Or even if you just stay for the night until you can find a friend to stay with." His voice is soft as he tries to anticipate your needs and cater to your changing circumstances. 
He finds a small suitcase under the bed, pulls it out, and sets it on the mattress as he waits for you to move. 
"Thank you." You nod mindlessly, coming to life again. The two of you work in tandem—you recover items from various drawers and hangers and dump them on the bed, and John works on folding and organisation. Each item is carefully and strategically packed, as his experience demands, ensuring you can bring with you everything you desire. 
Your priority is to grab everything important—ID, keepsakes, underwear. Perhaps you should feel some sort of shame or embarrassment when John starts packing away your panties without a word, but right now you can't find it within you to properly care. 
The little frilly pieces look extra delicate in his hands, and despite his toughened hands, he handles them with complete care. 
You practically empty your entire pyjama drawer onto the bed (or, onto John), anticipating a week on the couch doing sweet fuck all. After all, if you can't indulge and refuse to leave the house after a break-up, then when can you? 
Though on second thought, perhaps John wouldn't be too pleased if you took up residence on his couch and refused to leave—his hospitality surely only extends so far, despite being the nicest man ever. 
The two of you continue in dead silence, only broken by the occasional muttering to yourself as you think through everything you might need for the next few days.
It's John who speaks first, pausing midway through folding one of your oversized jumpers. "How did you find out?"
You meet his eye and see the emotion swirling within. It's clear he's hurting too, but wants to find out more as delicately as he can. 
"Some account sent me pictures and videos, it's definitely him." 
John's nostrils flare, his hands fisting in the fabric as anger washes over him. "He better hope I've had time to calm down before I see him again." 
"It's not worth making a fuss over John. I'm not—" You pause before you say that you're not worth it, clearly James doesn't think you're worth much at all. The idea of causing issues for James and John's relationship makes you cringe—because, unlike James, you actually give a shit as to how your actions affect others. 
"—I don't mean to come between you two." The words you settle on represent a solemn wish. Though, far more than that, a part of you hopes this doesn't come between you and John—that is something you hope for more intently.
After the last few years of knowing him, he's become someone you can truly depend upon. 
"He's the one who did this, not you," John states in a way that's clear and leaves no room for argument. "I've got you. You can count on me." 
His words soothe the deep sense of panic within you—after all, right now you're in desperate need of someone you can trust wholeheartedly.
With James, there was always this undercurrent of distrust. It was something you blamed on your anxiety and a belief he reinforced time and time again. 
With John, you feel none of the discontent—perhaps because you aren't as invested, or perhaps because John has never given you any reason to doubt him.
Here he is, in your moment of need,
telling you the words he knows you need to hear most right now.
You come back to yourself, hastily zipping up the bag in front of you and trying your best to give John a warm smile. 
"Let's get you home." John returns the smile with a firm nod, grabbing the bag immediately and throwing it over his shoulder. He waits for you to move first, holding his hand out in preparation for it to fall to the small of your back once more. 
The room already looks emptier, and honestly a little ransacked—not your problem any more.
Taking a deep breath, you turn on your heel and fall into step beside John, relishing the warmth of him beside you.
"Oh." John pauses, bending down to pick up a cardigan from the floor, almost hidden beneath the duvet hanging over the edge of the bed. "Can't forget this, yeah?" 
You take the cream knit from him, shrugging it on and wrapping it around yourself. 
With everything packed for your emergency getaway, you head back down the stairs and grab your phone and keys. It's only when John closes the truck door after you've climbed inside that you finally feel like you can breathe. 
Granted, your breaths are still a little shaky and uneven, but being out of the house makes you feel great relief. 
John climbs into the driver's seat of his truck, immediately throwing the keys in the ignition. The radio comes to life along with the engine, Costello playing—loud enough to hear yet quiet enough to ignore.
"Thank you, John." You whisper, a little uncertain of how to express the depth of your gratitude. "I've always... you've always been so nice to me." 
"Nothing less than you deserve," John states, his tone a little bitter as he begins to drive. "Shame my fucking son couldn't see that." 
The older man's venom takes you by surprise. You're not shocked that John is ashamed of his son's actions, but the fact he is here, unapologetically caring for you while condemning his son? You suppose, when you think about it, a pattern is emerging.
In the past, when James has wronged you, John hadn't pried or pressured you to discuss it at length—he simply laid down the law and then spent time distracting you or making you feel whole again. 
"You're really angry with him." You note besides, unused to seeing such unbridled emotion from the usually calm and in-control captain.
"I'd never condone cheating." His jaw clenches and the way he shifts gears is a little stiff. "But to do that to you? Unforgivable, darling. You've done nothing but run up the boy's arse since the day I met you." 
"Yeah, well, I thought we loved each other." You shrug, feeling only slightly pathetic about it all. "I thought I was just insecure, reading into things too much, and he made me feel that way too..."
John glances at you, eyes full of shock and pity, before he turns his attention back to the road. "Fuckin' hell."
"Look, you can stay with me as long as you like, I mean it." 
"I feel like a burden." You reply, not missing a beat.
John releases a sigh, preparing himself for battle. "If anything you're doing me a favour, can look after the place when I'm gone, yeah?" 
"I suppose." You relent immediately, not having any fight left in you. "Will you be leaving soon?" 
The thought makes you feel more unsettled than it should.
"Hopefully not for a little while." John flashes you a smile, his eyes kind and warm, "I'll make sure everything's sorted before I go anywhere, don't worry." 
"I'm sorry." 
"Nothing to apologise for, love." He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he meets your gaze. 
The two of you fall into silence for the rest of the drive, accompanied by the easy-listening tracks from John's CD as you make your way across the city. 
When you pull up on John's driveway, he's out of the car and opening your door before you can say anything, shouldering your bag and unlocking the front door to the house.
Once inside, you toe off your shoes, setting them onto the shoe rack that keeps all of John's boots neatly organised.
The house smells the same as it always does—smokey and wooden. Just familiar enough to feel homey, just foreign enough to still draw in your senses.
"Shall I show you to your room?" John asks—a gracious host despite the numerous times you've visited and stayed over. 
You nod, shoulders already sagging at the idea of falling into the expensive guest mattress. "Please, I kind of just want to collapse into bed right now." 
John chuckles as he leads the way up the stairs. "You're more than welcome to." 
The bed is already made as if waiting for your arrival, sans the towels John usually prepares when he knows you're coming over. He sets your bag down on the armchair sitting in the corner, before turning to leave you in peace. "Anything you need, I'll be downstairs." 
You reach out to him, hand settling on his broad forearm as you hold him still for just a moment, meeting his eyes with a sincere look of gratitude. God knows how the night would've turned out without his accidental intervention, but here in his home, you feel as safe and relaxed as you can in this moment. "Thank you, John."
He leans into your touch, mouth settling on the top of your head as he presses a barely there kiss, and then mumbles his words into your scalp. "Don't mention it, darling." 
A second later the door is quietly clicking shut behind him, leaving you alone in the guest bedroom with nothing but your thoughts. Thoughts you'd really rather be without right now, so you rush to change out of your clothes and into some pyjamas and throw yourself into bed.
Exhaustion overwhelms you the second your eyes flutter shut.
—- 
When you wake, bleary-eyed and achy-chested, it's completely dark outside—the yellow moon obscured by a layer of mist. 
You rub at your eyes and attempt to wet your mouth, which is bone dry from fitful sleep filled with nightmares. The entire night you were trapped in a hall of mirrors, each one cracked and smashed and showing monstrous reflections that looked nothing like yourself. 
It was all just a nightmare, and it's over now—all of it. 
Peeling back the covers, you climb out of bed and head downstairs to fetch a glass of water—nothing you haven't done numerous times before when you and James had spent the night here after he and John had one too many beers watching the football. 
You know exactly which of John's creaky stairs to skip to avoid making too much of a noise, know the small night light at the bottom of the stairs will brighten as you approach. 
When you make it downstairs, a floor lamp in the living room floods the space with an amber glow as warm reverberated music drifts to your ears. The soft light highlights John as he puffs away at a cigar, surrounding him in thick, billowing clouds. You're unsure of the time, but you are familiar enough with John to know his late-night-turned-early morning proclivity for music and nicotine. 
You take a moment to just watch him looking so peaceful, a moment where his guard is almost entirely down, and he's just John. Not a father or a soldier, but just a man—it's a rare treat and a side you don't often get to see. 
His eyes are glazed over, fixated on a spot on the wall as he's undoubtedly lost in his thoughts, weighed by his burdens and memories. 
Your eyes linger on his beard, no longer sporting his signature style as the mission has kept him from the upkeep, and that is something you've never seen before. It's charming how handsome he looks, not that he ever wasn't, but his good looks are easier to notice when he looks like this—for a moment he's not James' dad at all. He's all man, and you'd be lying if you said you'd never noticed him before, noticed how attractive he is. Admittedly, you've got very good at hiding your inappropriate, likely misplaced crush on the man. 
But now, as you gaze upon him with his lips wrapped around his cigar and his thick thighs lazily spread, you can dip into your unrestrained thoughts and—
"'s rude to stare, love." He says, his eyes shifting to meet yours. In the dark, his usual shining blue is missing, replaced by dark pools of simmering emotion. A moment later, a half-hearted smile catches up with him, as he seems to pull himself from his sombre mood upon seeing you.
"Didn't know you were awake." You shrug, stepping out into the living room and wrapping your arms around yourself protectively—feeling a little bare in your pyjama top and shorts. "I was gonna grab some water." 
"I'll get that for you, sit down." 
He's rising from his seat before you can protest, the cigar still hanging from his lips as he makes his way to the kitchen. You take a seat on the long couch, not quite relaxing into the worn leather. 
John returns a few moments later, passing the glass to you with a tight smile. 
"Thanks." 
He takes his seat back in his armchair, puffing away at his cigar, his eyes now fixed on you. It's almost like he's looking through you, rather than at you, his mind swirling with a million different thoughts.
Finally, you soothe your dry mouth with quick sips of the water and find yourself unable to tear your gaze away from John. 
Now you've noticed him, you feel like you can't stop. It must just be the heartache, the loneliness, and the impending upheaval of your life. 
He meets your stare, looking right back at you for every second your eyes linger upon him. Until you force yourself to look at anything but him. 
Whether he catches onto your shift in mood or is just genuinely interested, you don't know—but he asks after you anyway. "How are you feeling?" 
You let out a defeated sigh, taking stock of your emotions. Right now you're filled with a swirl of confusion and clarity. Some things make more sense than ever, but there's a lot still to figure out.
"Honestly? Betrayed and hurting... but lighter, in a sense. As if I'm glad it's all over?" Your voice wavers a little with uncertainty, as by rights, you should probably feel worse than you do.
John nods understandingly before taking a harsh puff, his eyes hardening. "I should've spoken up sooner." 
It feels like the world drops out from beneath you. Does that mean...?
"You knew?" You whisper shakily, not prepared to handle another betrayal. 
"No, love. I couldn't do that to you—" He rushes to correct himself, his expression softening as he tries to soothe you. "—but I had my suspicions." 
Relief floods you, knowing John didn't sit idly by and partake in the whole affair. If he had known and not said anything, that almost would've hurt just as much as the act itself. Instead, you feel validated, knowing you weren't the only one suspicious of James. After so long of being doubted, it's liberating to have your concerns reaffirmed.
"From the last time you visited?" You ask, wondering if he caught the telltale signs then too.  
"Yes." 
"Makes sense, he was with her that night. A lot of things make sense now, looking back." You take a long sip of your water, trying to not let the emotion inside overwhelm you. "I'm glad I don't have to live with the worry any more." 
"I am too, sweetheart." In his eyes, you see an undeniable genuineness, an underlying fondness.
John takes a deep drag of smoke before blowing it around himself, when he speaks, his tone is more gravelled and gruff. "I've tried talking some sense into him before about the way he treated you, but—" 
"He doesn't really listen to anyone else." 
"Hmm." 
The shared frustration hangs in the air as the smoke does, as well as a realisation for yourself that there is nothing now really tying you and John together—it makes your heart hurt more than it should.
"You should get some more rest." John says, interrupting the impending spiral of your thoughts.
He cares for you, genuinely. But you know he's not yours to keep. 
You set your glass down on the table before rubbing at your eyes, uncaring of the way your mascara is likely smudging even further across your cheeks.
"You're right, but I know it's not gonna come easily." You sigh, before peering over your hands to narrow your eyes at the man sitting across from you. "Hey, you're awake too, you can't lecture me."
He barks a laugh, smoke sputtering around him as he withdraws his cigar, holding it between his finger and thumb as he stares you down—a severe look in his eyes and a smile playing at his lips. "Don't make me use my Captain voice on you."  
You can't help but roll your eyes at that, and are almost tempted to urge him to try.
John's phone lights up from the coffee table, drawing your attention. 
"Fuck, I bet I have so many missed calls and texts." You shiver just thinking about James' response when he finally drags his arse home and realises you're gone. Will he even care?
You certainly know he'll care when he finds out John has offered you a place to stay, when he sees his father treating you with the kindness he struggled to ever afford you himself. "I don't know if I should tell him where I am." 
John shakes his head, humming in the negative before giving his gentle command. "Tomorrow, love, you'll need your strength to deal with all this." 
"Always so wise." You smile lightly, appreciating his insight just as you always do.
The two of you meet eyes, as he exhales a lung of smoke that comes drifting in your direction. "With age comes wisdom..." He smirks, and you instantly rise to your feet.
"I'm leaving before I age ten years just from sitting next to you." Or, god forbid, letting any inappropriate thoughts seep in at the idea of his words. "Goodnight, John." 
You give him your best smile before heading back to the stairs, not missing his sweet response. 
"Goodnight, darling girl."
——— 
James (13 Missed Calls)
Where the fuck are you? 
Why is your shit gone??
Pick up the fucking phone. 
Thankfully you'd had the good sense to turn off your phone through the night, but the notifications and the harsh light of the screen burn your eyes come morning time.
You don't even bother flicking through the rest of the texts, as you resolve to address them later, after breakfast and more importantly, a discussion with John. There's a message or two from work colleagues that also go ignored for now—them checking in on you and making sure you're okay. 
While you appreciate the gesture, you really don't want to address it right now—instead, you opt for scrolling away mindlessly, waiting for the motivation to get up and face the day to finally strike. 
Instead, the day finds you, in the form of raucous shouting and doors slamming from downstairs—James roaring at John demanding answers, John trying to defuse the situation. 
Fuck. He's here. 
You tiptoe your way onto the landing, whole body on high alert as you listen in to the two men's argument. 
"Let me past, John." James sounds beyond impatient as his way upstairs is clearly blocked.
"If you think you're going anywhere near that poor girl, you're sorely fucking mistaken." The threatening undertone to John's voice is downright unsettling, even to you.
"She's my girlfriend, and this is none of your fucking business." 
"You're my son, and you're acting like a complete prick." 
"Your son, come the fuck on." James scoffs. "Move out of the way." 
"Wouldn't try that if I were you." 
"Oh yeah?"
The sound of a scuffle forces you to move, running to the stairs and stopping halfway when you get closer to the men. James is trying to push past John, but is met by an impassable wall of muscle and protective determination.
The expression on James' face sickens you, one you've not seen before, and especially not directed at you or John.
"James." 
His eyes snap to you, the lividity within unwavering. "What the fuck are you doing here?" 
A voice in your head tells you to cower in fear, to appease him just as you have so many times before—but this time you know things have to be different. Your eyes flicker to John's, his look softening as he catches your gaze, despite using his body as a shield to hold James back. 
John thinks you're worth it. John thinks you're worth jeopardising his relationship with his son over the way James has acted this time. 
It's not that you want to forgive James anyway, not that you want to keep him around—it's just the ice in your veins, the survival instinct calling on you to back down. 
But you can't, not this time.
"I know about Lucy." You force the words out before you can rethink them any further, standing firm. 
James' expression shifts, as he launches into an attempt to placate you, pacify you. "Babe, I don't know what you've heard but—" 
"Don't even try to explain it away, I don't wanna hear it." He won't let you doubt yourself again, and you make sure he hears it in the certainty in your voice. "I saw videos of the two of you." 
He laughs and shakes his head dismissively, his tone downright mocking as he speaks. "We need to talk about this." 
You fold your arms over your chest, confidence coursing through you. "I don't have anything to say, I'm not your girlfriend any more, and I'd appreciate it if you left." 
"Not before you listen to me." He growls, but you don't relent.
You look at James, through him even, a part of you disconnecting completely from the man before you. He's no longer the man you love, he's a loose end mere moments from being tied up—a weight you're about to relinquish. 
"I'll be back to continue packing my things, and we can talk about the rent and everything later." You even surprise yourself with the steadiness of your tone.
"Just let me explain—"
"No." You snarl, as James surges forward to try to grab you. 
Once more, he's stopped in his tracks, being pushed back and away to keep you from harm's reach. 
"Out, son, now." John's words are all growl, before changing to a more sinister stillness—the calmer threats from the man speak volumes more. "Or I'll make you leave."��
James at least has the sense to move away, but while he has no physicality to push back with, he resorts to taunting. "Always got to be the knight in shining armour, showing up when you're not even needed. Pathetic, John. Go back to your own life and leave mine alone, yeah?" He spits.
There's a beat of silence, an air of disbelief surrounding all of you before John snaps.
"I said, out." John pushes back on James chest once more, sending the younger man stumbling backwards toward the open door. 
At least now, he swallows his pride and leaves, but not before shooting you the most venomous look, one you know will haunt you. 
John practically slams the door behind his son, working the locks into place to ensure there's no possibility of a repeat performance. "Sorry about that, I shouldn't have opened the door." John sighs, hanging his head in failure. "I never expected—"
"It's fine." You sigh, genuinely believing it. "First step to it all really being... over." 
John says nothing, his chest heaving with each breath as he continues to look troubled and disappointed in himself. 
You make your way down the last few steps, meeting him at the door to settle your hand on his bicep—hoping the gesture to be soothing and grounding. "Thanks for having my back, for keeping me safe. 
"He's hurt you enough, and if he ever laid hands on you..." John's jaw clenches, his nostrils flaring as something bloody and violent passes over him. 
"I think he'd know he'd end up in a body bag in a foreign country." You laugh, attempting to lighten the mood. "Good job that it won't come to that."  
With one final deep breath, John straightens up, schooling himself into a stoic facade and pushing aside whatever rage is bubbling within him in a display of perfect discipline. "Sit down, love. I'll make us some tea." 
He heads into the kitchen, and you follow just a few paces behind—falling onto one of the stools at the kitchen island as John gets the kettle on. You watch him work in silence, thoughts ticking over about the display you've just witnessed, the events that had just transpired. 
You had looked at James and told him exactly how things were going to go, and for that, you were incredibly proud of yourself. 
"I suppose I should head back later and start properly packing my shit up. The sooner I get everything out of there, the better." You comment, trying to envision the logistics of everything to come.  
"I'll be there." John comments, pausing for a moment to meet your eye.
"I'm sure that will go down well." You smirk, mentally preparing yourself for another onslaught against you and John when you both show up at the house. His anger at you was expected, but the things he said to his father had seemingly come from nowhere. "I'm sorry about what he said to you." 
"Don't be." John shrugs, before setting two mugs on the counter with just a little too much force. "It's always been there, under the surface. Blames his mum too, as I'm sure you know." 
You watch his face, watch as he tries to keep his reactions in check—something he's very good at, and something you think you're getting better at seeing through. 
"Yeah." 
Is he reconsidering his decision to support you, now he knows the potential consequences that may come along with it? Is he truly hurting at what James said, or dismissing them as a by-product of the heightened emotions everyone was feeling? Right now you wish you could pick apart his thoughts, but everything right now feels so delicate, for both you and for him. 
John sets a steaming mug before you, then takes a seat beside you at the island. "Let me know whenever you're ready to get packed up, can ask the lads over to help too if need be." He half-smiles, a lightness in the dark. 
"I'm sure the two of us can handle it." You laugh lightly. "Not sure where I'll put all my stuff though."
"There's plenty of room here," John replies, before his voice softens. You stare at your tea as it warms your hands, but you can feel him looking right at you. "I meant everything I've said, and you can stay as long as you like. I also understand if it's too strange for you, I can help you figure something out." 
"It's not strange, not really." You meet his too-blue eyes and almost have to turn away from the emotion within. "Even so, I don't have anywhere else to go right now, to be honest. I'm sorry." 
"I'm happy to have you, truly."  He reaches out, settling a hand on yours, his skin even warmer than the steaming mug. "Brightening up the place." 
"Not sure I'm doing much of that right now." 
"You are."
You shrug, but relent under his insistent tone.  "Fair, if my bedhead and ratty pyjamas weren't a source of amusement I suppose I'd be disappointed." 
"Attagirl." His hand squeezes, lingers for a moment before withdrawing. 
You never realise how much you're missing until you feel John withdraw. 
"Can we... not go today?" The confidence you felt earlier wanes as the adrenaline continues to die down. "I'd rather go another day if that's okay." 
"I'm all yours, just give me the word." 
The blush on your face is entirely coincidental, and you force yourself to move past the moment swiftly. "Until then... Jeopardy marathon?" You ask, as you have so many times before.
"Jeopardy marathon." John nods, grabbing the mugs as you rush to the living room. "Been a while since we've done this." 
"Stop being so busy then." You grumble, flopping down on the couch with a pout. "Though I suppose the world isn't gonna save itself." 
"You overestimate me, love." John grins as he takes a seat at the end of the couch and hands you the remote.
You load up Netflix and pull up the series, picking up where the two of you left off months ago, and as the show starts, you wiggle to get comfortable. 
Almost absent-mindedly, John pulls your legs into his lap, freeing them from being curled up at his side and making you instantly more comfortable. He's always so considerate, and his hands settle respectfully on your shins as you both turn your attention to this episode's contestants. 
It's peaceful in a way you haven't felt in so long—getting to enjoy one of your favourite things with someone you care for. James almost hated trivia shows with a passion, where John had talked with you at length about your shared love for Only Connect.
"Why couldn't I have met you first?" You ask, mostly thinking aloud. 
John coughs, taken aback by your words that are laced with heavier meaning than you intended. "Pardon?" 
"I just mean... so I didn't have to feel so guilty about wanting to be your friend." Didn't have to feel so guilty about straining his relationship with his son.
"We've known each other as long as I've known the boy." He squeezes at your shins, rubbing ever so slightly as he does. "We're friends, love." 
You shrug, eyes flickering down to watch the way his hands trace over you, though not thinking too much of it. You're too trapped in your head, lamenting your lot in life that you had to suffer through James to find a friend in John, a friend you might still lose anyway. "He gets 'custody' of you though, really, since you're his father." 
John straightens up, his hands stilling. "Think he's made how he feels about me quite clear." 
"He'll regret saying that... I hope." You whisper, before turning your attention back to the TV. You don't know what to say to soothe John, and you strongly suspect it's not what he wants to speak about right now.
"Such is life, love. He'll regret stepping out on you." He returns. 
"Good." You laugh freely, feeling a moment of unrestrained joy. "Can I be honest? I don't think I'll regret having him gone, sorry."
John squeezes again, drawing your attention back to him as he shoots you an annoyed look. "Going to have to do something about all that apologising you do." 
"Sorry." You freeze, before giggling sweetly. "I mean... fuck. You'll just have to give me your most vicious captain look every time I do it." 
You joke, but John obliges, trying to look stern but failing as a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "Okay, you're wearing a quarter zip, and you look like a dad, I can't take you seriously." 
John chuckles, clutching at his heart as his look turns playful. "Threatening my pride, darling girl." 
You can't help the way your eyes roll back in your head. "Something tells me you'll be fine." You mutter, before the infectiousness of John seeps through to you. 
He looks upon you fondly, his warm gaze almost feeling like an embrace with its tenderness. "Nice to see a smile back on your face, bunny." 
"If I have to stop apologising, you have to stop calling me that." You say, unable to fight the blush creeping onto your face.
"No deal, love." He smirks, not looking away for a single second. "We both know you enjoy it far too much." 
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blues824 · 3 months
Note
My request for the prompt list is what ever you want and who ever you want I'm happy with everything you write and what to see what you want.
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I found this cute picture of sebek for you I don't know who drew it but it's beautiful.
If this man does not become our husband in the next 5 seconds @theunknowntravel3r
I requested: Dancing to Christmas Music, New Year’s Countdown, NYE Party
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Sebek Zigvolt
Let’s be honest, if you are with him, he probably has told his parents about you. It was his first time being in a relationship with a human, so who better than to ask his parents? That being said, when Winter Break rolled around, they had sent you an invitation to stay at their house for the duration of your time off from school.
The half-fae had warned you to pack heavily and with cold weather in mind, and he even lent you one of his hoodies… totally because you needed it and not because you looked absolutely adorable in it. You also noticed that it seemed that he sprayed some of his cologne on it so that it smelled freshly of him, and your heart melted.
Going through the mirror, the weather was definitely much colder, and you were glad that you were already wearing some extra layers. It was freezing cold. You went to pick up your suitcase only to see that Sebek picked it up for you. His face was flushed red, as he caught you looking at him, but in his mind he blamed it on the cold.
“Sebek, I can get my own stuff.”
“Nonsense! It is a knight’s duty to help a citizen, especially if you are their significant other!” He shouted, not as loud as when he shouts at Ace or Deuce, but definitely louder than necessary. 
So you said bye to everyone as you both headed to the dentist clinic, where you would meet his parents. You were nervous, and he could sense it. To be honest, he was more nervous about you meeting his older siblings, as they were very protective over their younger brother. 
Walking in, you noticed that it was very clean and quiet, probably because they were just locking up the office for the holidays. Upon seeing her son, Mrs. Zigvolt ran and pulled you both into a hug, exclaiming about how it was so good to see you and her son had told her so much about you. Sebek was embarrassed, but it had been a while since you'd felt the warm hug of a mother, so you embraced it.
His father walked into the lobby soon, and waited until his wife was finished with greeting you both so that he could hug his son and introduce himself to you properly. You could definitely see that your boyfriend was a perfect mix of his parents, in both appearance and personality, and it was quite funny to you.
~~~~~~~~
The Zigvolt residence wasn’t anything too grand. It was actually quite comfortable, and you loved everything about it. You got to see Sebek’s room, and you were surprised at how plain it looked. You would have thought that he would have had crocodile-print blankets and pillow cases but no. 
He actually had a bookcase filled to the brim with books, and they were organized by title. A few of them were romance novels that you were grateful to see, as you recognized them from your own world. Shakespeare, the Brothers Grimm, and the Bronte Sisters. 
“Huma- I mean, Y/N, you will be sleeping in here, and I will sleep on the couch!” He announced, setting your suitcase on the bed.
“Why don’t we just share the bed? It’s a king-sized bed, we can both fit.”
“THAT IS IMPROPER, ESPECIALLY BEFORE MARRIAGE!!!” He shouted, face painted a bright, glowing red at the mere thought of doing something so intimate.
“Is it that? Or is it because we’re in your parents’ house? You do realize that we’ve slept in the same bed before back at Ramshackle, right?”
“I-I do realize that!” He said all too quickly, making you laugh.
“Alright, what’s got you so worked up, Mr. Knight-in-Shining-Armor?” You stepped right in front of him, throwing your arms around his neck and playing with the ends of his hair. His hands instinctively fell to your waist.
You always knew when something was bothering him… and it was something that he both hated and appreciated about you. 
“I have never brought a significant other home before, and I am nervous about how my siblings and my grandfather will take it… especially since you are human,” He admitted, and you could feel his shoulders sag a bit when he mentioned his grandfather.
“Your grandfather was forced to accept your father, wasn’t he? I will force him to accept me. I forced you to, so it shouldn’t be much more difficult than that, right?” You offered him a reassuring smile, and he knew that you could win anybody over. However, his grandfather still did not like his father. “And if he doesn’t, then he’ll love our children.” 
It was lucky that he was half-fae and did not get whiplash as easily as humans do, otherwise his neck would have absolutely snapped with the velocity at which he turned his head to look at you, wide eyes and flushed face apparent.
~~~~~~~~
Over the course of the next few days, you basically stayed in the house. You did stop by the market to meet some of the townsfolk, but it was freezing cold out there. Besides, you definitely preferred seeing baby pictures of your boyfriend over the snow any day of the week. Mrs. Zigvolt was very happy to show you the most embarrassing ones, much to her son’s dismay.
You also helped prepare the house for the upcoming New Year’s Eve party that the Zigvolt’s hosted annually. You were excited to see Silver and Lilia again, but you were sad that Tsunotarou was not going to be able to make it. It would be alright, because you needed to meet Baul Zigvolt as well as Sebek’s siblings.
On the day of the party, his sister was the first of them to arrive. She didn’t live too far away, but the snow made it difficult to get there. She squealed upon seeing you, though, and you made a guess that this generation of Zigvolt’s inherited their mother’s strength when she hugged you.
“YOU MUST BE SEBEK’S SIGNIFICANT OTHER!!!!” She exclaimed in excitement.
“WHO’S SEBEK’S SIGNIFICANT OTHER?!” You heard a man exclaim from the front door. Looks like the eldest son of the family is now present.
“I am! My name is Y/N L/N!” You were not surprised to be swept into yet another bone-crushing hug, but this time you were rescued by another woman who didn’t look like she was related.
“Honey, let them go! They can barely breathe, poor thing…” You shook her hand after being let down, and you noticed the ring on her and Sebek’s older brother’s fingers, making a note that she married into the family.
Lilia and Silver weren’t too far behind, and so the only person you all were waiting for was the grandfather of the family. Lilia tried to reassure you that you would be fine and that Baul would tolerate you, but it still wasn’t any less nerve-wracking. Sebek was in a similar state, not being able to sit still, and when he was sitting, his leg was bouncing.
What did manage to give you a bit of hope was that you were not the only human in the room. Sebek’s father, sister-in-law, and Silver were all there to stand beside you. Of course, the first person mentioned didn’t count, because Baul still didn’t like him. However, the other two were accepted with nearly open arms.
Then, the dreaded knock on the door sounded, making more and more terror sink into your and your boyfriend’s souls. You took his hand in yours, drawing absentminded circles on the back of it with your thumb.
“Where is the human who deems themself worthy to court my youngest grandson?” He said upon entering.
Whatever happened to ‘Hello’? ‘How are you?’ ‘My name is…’?
“I am right here, sir.” You stood up, walking up to him and extending your out to him. “My name is Y/N L/N.”
A moment of silence passed, and you could feel sweat trickling down the back of your neck, but he accepted your hand and shook it, telling you his name in return. The entire group behind you let out a sigh of relief, before the festivities truly began.
And by ‘festivities’, I mean sitting on the couch and talking. This is probably the most ‘unseasoned chicken’ family out there… just saying.
~~~~~~~~
It had been a few hours since Baul had arrived, and it seemed like he accepted you into the family. You were in it for the long haul, but you didn’t mind. Behind the scary facade, he was just a man who was concerned with the wellbeing of his family. You could appreciate that, and now you sat, sitting and listening to his and Lilia’s “glory days” from back in the military.
Sebek was listening with stars in his eyes, and you knew that he aspired to be like his grandfather. He was sitting on the couch, and you were sitting on the floor, leaning your head on his leg as you listened along. However, you zoned out a bit, feeling your social battery become low.
Mr. Zigvolt put on a Christmas record on an old gramophone that they kept in the family room, and walked up to his wife.
“Would you like to dance, darling?” He extended his hand out to her, and your heart melted at the sight.
“Why, yes I would.” And so they started to rock back and forth. In their home, they had wedding photos hung up, and they looked as in love as they were back then.
Sebek’s brother and sister-in-law joined them. It wasn’t anything too complicated, literally just rocking back and forth. You smiled, lip-syncing to the words and watching the two couples dance with each other.
“H-Human, would you like to dance with me?” Sebek stood up and held a hand out to you, offering to help you up. Poor baby’s face was flushed red, embarrassed or flustered, or maybe a mix of both. Plus, he was using a soft voice.
“I would like nothing more, my Knight in Shining Armor,” You said with a smile on your face, allowing yourself to be pulled up off the ground and into his chest. Placing your hand on his shoulder and holding his hand with your free one, you both also began swaying side-to-side. 
The song was soft, creating a rather romantic atmosphere in the living room of the Zigvolt residence. Staring into Sebek’s eyes, you could see the pride he felt at his choice of a significant other being accepted by the man he looked up to the most.
“1 MINUTE UNTIL MIDNIGHT!!!” The eldest Zigvolt daughter shouted out. All of a sudden, your beloved knight looked panicked, and you were about to ask what happened when he looked back into your eyes.
“Human, I am aware that I have not been very straightforward with my feelings for the past year that I have known you. I, however, want to take this last minute in the year to express them. I love you, Y/N L/N,” You could here the others start to count down, “And I understand if you do not wish to say it yet at this point in our relationship-”
“3, 2, 1!!!” The others shouted.
Quickly, you threw your arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss, closing your eyes. Your heart was pounding as you felt all the oxygen in your lungs quickly disappear, and when you broke apart from him, you smiled.
“I love you, too, Sebek Zigvolt.”
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starkwlkr · 1 year
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can you please do a part 4 where ruby’s finds about pregnancy and become jealous, but charles and yn only notices when one night charles is kiss and talking with yn’s belly and without them notice she’s going to her room and do a suitcase, when she returns with them she having tears in her eyes and tell them she going to live with her grand mere since them don’t need and want her anymore now they have another baby, and them become all fluffy with charle’s and yn talking to her and ruby’s being the biggest daddy’s girl
sorry abou my english, i hope you understand
jealousy, jealousy | charles leclerc
ruby is so real for this because i almost did this when i was younger (tbh i still get jealous when my mom praises my other cousins because her and i have a complicated relationship ENOUGH TRAUMA DUMPING SORRY)
When Ruby was told she was going to be a big sister, it didn’t go as planned. She was pretty straight forward about it too.
“Why do you need another baby?” She asked her parents one night during dinner. Charles and Y/n were confused. Ruby always talked about all the kids in her class having siblings. “You have me.”
“Ruby, we love you very much, the new baby isn’t going to change that.” Charles spoke to his daughter.
“Okay,” she wasn’t quite convinced yet. She looked at her mom and noticed her stomach was bigger. “Why is your belly big? Did you eat a lot?”
“Ruby Jules, that’s not a nice thing to say.” Charles sighed. He always wondered how his mom managed to raise three boys, he was having trouble with just Ruby. He made a mental note to thank his mom for everything she had done. “Mama’s belly is big because that’s where your baby brother or sister is. You were in mama’s belly too.”
“No, I wasn’t. Uncle Arthur told me I came from the hospital. I saw pictures of mama and me.” Ruby said, grabbing her juice box from the table and drinking from it.
“Yes, we were in the hospital but before that you were in my belly.” Y/n added.
“When does the baby get here?” Ruby wondered. “Do I have to share my room? I don’t like sharing my toys with a baby.”
“The baby isn’t going to stay in your room. They’re going to stay with mama and daddy. They’re going to be too small so we have to take care of them.” That’s when Charles made a mistake.
It took almost three whole years for Ruby to actually stay in her own room. When Charles would put her to sleep, Ruby’s little legs would take her right back to her parent’s room. Ruby wasn’t afraid of the dark or the ‘monsters’ in her closet, she just wanted to hug her daddy while she slept.
“Why does the baby get to sleep in your room? Why can’t I?” Ruby asked.
“Ruby-”
“I’m leaving.” Ruby mumbled and got down from the chair. She angrily stomped away then a few seconds later, she reappeared just to grab her unfinished juice from the table, then she finally left.
“I knew we should’ve waited until tomorrow. We could’ve gotten her a cake or taken her to the park. She hates us, Charles.” Y/n frowned. She picked up Ruby’s plate and walked over to the sink. She started washing the dishes when Charles came up from behind her, wrapping his arms around her small, but visible bump.
“She doesn’t hate us, mon amour. She just doesn’t understand. A couple years from now, her and the baby are going to be best friends.” Charles kissed Y/n’s cheek.
“I hope you’re right.” Y/n put down the washed plate and turned around to face Charles.
“I am right and I’m also right about this one being a boy. He’s going to be a strong, smart boy like his dad.” Charles bent down to place a kiss on Y/n’s belly.
“Really? Because I remember you calling yourself stupid.” Y/n teased. Her hands started playing with Charles’ hair. “And what makes you so sure that baby leclerc is going to be a boy?”
“I just know. We already have a daughter, having a boy would complete our family.” Charles smiled at his wife. “I love you already, baby leclerc.” He looked back at the bump.
Ruby watched from a distance as her dad kissed her mom’s belly multiple times. It broke her heart hearing them call the new baby ‘baby leclerc’. Why couldn’t they name it differently? That’s was her nickname. The baby wasn’t even here and they were already stealing from her. That’s the moment when Ruby decided she wasn’t wanted anymore, not when there was a new baby coming soon.
The four year old walked to her room and started going through her closet, looking for her small princess backpack. When she finally found it, she unzipped it and began to pack her some clothes along with a stuffed animal, her doll, two euros and a book with bedtime stories.
If her parents weren’t going to love her then she was going to the one person she knew would love her no matter what. Pascale lived right across the street from them so Ruby knew exactly where to go. She put on her backpack, grabbed her stuffed animal and walked back to the living room where she found her parents cleaning up before going to bed.
“And where are you going, little one?” Charles quickly noticed the girl with the backpack.
“I’m going to grand-merè house because you don’t love me anymore. She loves me, she gives me ice cream.” Ruby said in a low voice. She didn’t think she was going to cry when she told her mom and dad she was leaving, but here she was, tears coming out her eyes as she stood before them explaining why she was leaving.
“Baby, we will always love you. The new baby isn’t going to replace you. Come here,” Y/n grabbed her daughter’s hand and led her to the sofa so they could have a proper talk. “We love you and the new baby isn’t going to change that. What made you think we didn’t love you anymore?”
Ruby wiped away her tears. “I heard papa call the baby my name. And they’re going to sleep in your room.”
Y/n brought the crying girl into her arms for a hug. “I’m sorry if you felt like we didn’t love you. We love you so much, my pretty girl.”
“I’m sorry for calling your brother or sister baby leclerc. If you want, you can name them. What do want to call the baby?” Charles poked Ruby’s cheek, making the girl laugh.
“I want the baby to be called Steve!” Ruby said confidently.
“Steve? Like the guy from Blues Clues?” Y/n asked.
Ruby nodded. “He’s funny and we sing old macdonald had a farm together!”
“Okay, baby steve it is.” Charles chuckled as he took the girl from his wife’s arms. “I love you, Ruby Jules. You’re my special girl, but don’t tell mama or else she’s going to get jealous.” He whispered to her.
“Okay, daddy.” Ruby nodded, giggling as she did so. “I love you too.” She hugged Charles, her giggles getting louder as Charles tickled her sides.
“Say goodnight to mama … and baby steve. It’s bedtime, baby leclerc.” Charles said.
“Goodnight mama, I love you. Goodnight baby Steve, you’re okay.” Ruby kissed her mom then copied Charles’ actions from earlier and kissed her mom’s belly.
“Goodnight, my pretty girl. I love you too.” Y/n kissed Ruby’s cheek and watched as Charles took a laughing Ruby to her room.
Y/n sighed and looked down at her belly. “Baby Steve.” She chuckled at the name. “Come on Steve, it’s bedtime.”
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sturnsreader · 4 months
Text
scars
TW: self harm
!! requested by @sturns-posts !!
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౨ৎ ⋆。˚
“y/n?” you heard your boyfriend, matt, call from upstairs. you sighed and made your way up stairs to find matt on his laptop. you walked around the corner and smiled walking up to him.
“yes matty?” you asked cheerfully.
“are you okay?” he asked sounding concerned.
“yeah, why?” you asked confused at by the sudden worry.
“well, im just worried about you.” he sighed. you noticed that he kept looking back down to his computer screen to making glances at your arms.
“you would tell me if you weren't, right?” he asked.
you gulped wondering what he knew.
“yes, baby, please dont worry about it.” you nodded quickly before turning back to go downstairs.
he grabbed your waist and pulled you back into his arms playing with your hair.
“are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again repeating himself. you nodded into his chest before he pulled you back leading you into his room. he didn’t say a word, just sat you on his bed and opened up the screen. on the left hand side of the screen was a recent picture of you in mcdonalds that a camera man had taken, on the right hand side was the same photo just zoomed into your wrist. your scars visible for the world to see. you read the headline over and over in your head sighing.
'HAS TWITTER TROLLS PUSHED MATTHEW STURNIOLO’S GIRLFRIEND OVER THE EDGE?'
“what is this? you told me you stopped a while ago and if you felt like that you were going to tell me. did i do something wrong?” he asked pointing to your wrist on the screen with teary eyes. you couldn't speak, your whole throat had closed up.
he noticed and pulled you onto his lap staring into your stinging eyes.
“i love you so much and i want nothing but for you to be the happiest girl ever. i let anyone hurt you. whether they're old or new, i don't care because i'm here for you now and i always will be." he smiled before kissing your forehead softly. a tear escaped your eye making you smile.
“we don't have to talk about this now, whenever you're ready.” he smiled resting your head onto his chest as he wiped the tears off.
| 2 hours later |
“hey, i know you wanted to go to the cabin back in massachusetts, so were going with nick and chris tomorrow morning!” he said with a smile while tucking your hair behind your ear.
“baby, you didn’t have to”
“shh, i wanted to.” he said as he hugged you around the waist.
you waited at least 10 seconds before letting go. matt’s hugs were the most comforting thing ever. “can you help me pack, please.”
matt shook his head up and down with a big smirk while grabbing your hand and walking downstairs to the bedroom.
“oh, how long are we staying.”
“since were with nick and chris we are staying for a week and a half, but soon we can go alone.”
he was digging through the closet trying to find a bag big enough before you made him stop.
“i love you so much.”
“i love you more, my love” you could tell he meant it. “we are going down to nick and chris’s house tomorrow morning at 4 am. i know its early but i want to get there earlier, if its okay with you.” he said right after he found a perfect suitcase to fit all your stuff.
| two days later |
“hey babe i was scrolling through things to do here and there is a tattoo parlor like five minutes away from us can we PLEASE get tattoos together!” nick said excitedly.
“shut up you have been rambling about tattoos the whole time we-“ chris said as you cut him off.
“nick i would LOVE to get a tattoo with you and i know exactly what i want. follow me!” you said as you go to find matt in the store.
“im getting a tattoo with nick and i just want you to draw stars around my scars.” you say while going through your purse to find a pen.
matt looks at you in awe as he takes the marker and draws the cutest stars ever. you start to tear up. you look up at him as he concentrates on drawing them all.
౨ৎ ⋆。˚
not my best work but i tried 🥲🥲
i hope you enjoyed and if you have anything you need to talk about message me! i love you guys sm🩷.
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