#love to get just a little sweaty and agitated for absolutely no reason | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

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𝑵𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝑹𝒂𝒊𝒏 (𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒊) 𝑹𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢 (𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳)× 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞)

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.4K

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐇𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐨. 𝐇𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞. 𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐡𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐩𝐬, 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 (𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞), 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐢- 𝐮𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧- 𝐆𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐍' 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬/ 𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲- 𝐉𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @little-precious-baby @yunhoiseyecandy @yunhofingers @brie02 @deja-vux @rvse-miingi @multidreams-and-desires @galaxteez

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Waving enthusiastically at the crowd cheering loudly at the end of their performance, Mingi's eyes were scanning each and every one of the sections in the auditorium. To anyone it would seem as though he was making sure to shine his beautiful and radiant smile to all the adoring fans that came to watch and support him and his members, and yes that was partly why. But it wasn't just that. He had hope as he scanned every face in there. Hope of once again seeing her again. He could hear his own heartbeat pump against his ears, the sound drowning out all the chanting coming from the thousands of fans gathered in there.

Sensing what was going on, one of his members couldn't help but let out a sigh. Leaning in close enough so he could hear him, he whispered in his ear.

"She's not here Mingi."

He expected such words from his best friend, who although with good intentions, seemed to try to ground him back down to earth and inadvertently crush his hopes. But he never took it personally. He knew Yunho was only trying to look out for him and spare him more heartache. Nudging him slightly, the equally tall male swung an arm around Mingi's broad shoulders, plastering on a smile out to the crowd once more as he led them backstage as slowly the members started to walk off the stage as scheduled. Accepting that the night was over, Mingi pulled his face away from the crowd and began walking away. He would have ultimately called it another uneventful concert that ended the same way and just go back to change into his normal clothes and then join the rest of the group back at the hotel to lounge and rest.

But he felt a something strange, pulling and beckoning him to look back at the scatter of people behind him once more. Slowly, he tried his head, unsure of where to look exactly, eyes wandering around aimlessly. Until they spotted what he believed to be a familiar red scarf wrapped around a person's neck, effectively covering up the bottom half of their face while their head had a matching beret that covered their forehead entirely. Although he couldn't see much other than their body frame, he felt his heart swell up, legs unable to move as he stared at the figure. Yunho stopped when he felt Mingi no longer walking behind him. Walking back to him, he put on a smile so as to not act suspicious and began pulling him away.

"Mingi..we have to go."

But Mingi stayed grounded, still scanning the figure he had locked his eyes on. The person began walking away, almost as if they didn't even acknowledge him.

"Wait hold on-"

Just as he was about to run off the stage and follow them, Yunho harshly tugged on his arm and fiercely guided him backstage, waving out towards the people still watching them so as to not arouse suspicion or have them think something was wrong.

"Mingi, it's not her. You always swear it is but it's not."

Yunho didn't mean to sound so aggressive towards his long life friend, but he cared about him too much and didn't want him getting false illusions that would only end up in him getting more hurt than what he already was.

"I know but it's different! Yunho she was wearing the scarf I gave her. I know it was it!" He insisted, anxiously looking towards the door, debating whether or not he could make a dash and catch up to the individual.

Shaking his head, Yunho placed his hands on top of his friend's shoulders.

"Mingi.....there's a million red scarfs out there. And you were too far away. Honestly I think....."

He hesitated before speaking his next words, knowing how sensitive Mingi got with the topic.

"Forget about her."

As if on instinct, Mingi shook his head.

"No! I can't. I promised I'd wait for her and I'm not breaking my word. I'll stay faithful to it until she comes back."

"But what if she doesn't?! It's been over two years Mingi! Face the facts. She's not coming back. Y/N never loved-"

"Don't say that! She did- she does love me! I know she does!"

Yunho took a step back. Seeing Mingi become so agitated and frustrated like that truly terrified him. It was always dangerous to have him get mad or overly worked up. Sensing that he probably startled his friend a little too much, Mingi ran a hand over his dyed blonde hair, a despondent sigh coming out his mouth.

"Hey Yunho I'm sorry..... I think.... I need some air."

After changing into his normal clothes, Mingi didn't get in the van like most of the other guys who just wanted to go relax back at the hotel, nor did he follow Wooyoung or Hongjoong to go check out some of the nearby stores. He simply walked in the opposite direction, mindlessly strolling the streets of the unfamiliar city he was currently in. The slight rumbling of the skies and the subtle scent of dew signaled that it was more than likely going to start pouring rain soon. Even though he was wearing one of his long trenchcoat, the slight breeze that blew across sent tiny chills down his spine, nearly making his teeth chatter.

As if it were a beacon, Mingi stumbled across a small and cozy looking coffee shop. Making sure it was still open, he cheerfully greeted the sweet looking old woman behind the counter, who seemed to brighten up at seeing such a handsome young lad at such an hour. Very calmly and politely, he ordered just a simple caramel cappuccino, which the owner was delighted to whip up for him. Just as he took out his wallet to pay, he had a weird inkling feeling for some reason.

"Uh..... do you perhaps sell hot cocoa?" He inquired nervously.

After getting confirmation that they indeed made hot chocolate, Mingi asked if there was any possible way they could add peppermint to it. He could already feel the judgmental stare about to be given to him as most baristas did with such an unpopular request. Although she seemed surprised by the special addition of peppermint, she didn't hesitate to assure him she'd definitely make it as he liked. Mingi felt so grateful to the kind lady, making sure to leave her a generous tip before taking both of his drinks and going back outside.

Spotting a nearby gazebo, Mingi went over and sat down on one of the benches that were placed underneath the roof of it. Setting the hot mint chocolate down next to him, he sipped his cappuccino slowly, being careful not to burn his tongue on the scorching hot liquid. It had the perfect amount of foam in it, with not too much caramel added in it so the strong espresso could still be made out. Wiping off some of the froth that accidentally got on the tip of his nose, he peered down at the untouched drink next to him. Chuckling dryly to himself, he picked up the cup and scanned it with deep curiosity.

"You always were so different and unique." He mused to himself.

Putting it back down, he began to think it was absolutely silly to have bought it just because of some momentary whim he felt back in the coffee shop.

Or was it nostalgia?

Mingi began to believe it was the latter, especially considering what month it was. After all, it was during this exact same time 2 years ago, on a cold and gloomy November where everything started...

Or perhaps ended?

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Exhausted panting came from all 8 of the sweaty bodies of the males in the room, about half of them were already reaching for their water bottles to gulp down the contents before proceeding to try catching their breath once more. The strict yet kind eyes watching them announced they would be taking a break before saying they'd be rehearsing for another hour or two. Simultaneous groans and protests were elicited by the members, who were already tired from thinking about burning a few more calories with their intense dance sessions.

"Looks like I'm missing the new episode of aot." San dramatically layed on the floor, arms sprawled out.

"I'm calling first dibs on the shower when we get back." Seonghwa declared, not afraid of using his status as the oldest member if it meant getting himself cleaned.

"Aww Hyung! You take showers that are way too long! You'll finish all the hot water like last time." Woow already began nagging, which in turn started another argument between his both of them, with San and Yunho joining in to offer backup if necessary.

Ignoring their pointless bantering, Mingi took the time to call up his girlfriend to let her know. It took quite some time for her to pick up his call, it had actually become a rather recent and constant habit of hers, contrary to before when she'd immediately answer on the second ring.

"What?" Her voice sounded somewhat annoyed and tired, which Mingi guessed had something to do with her work.

"Hey baby, looks like I'm going to be staying late at the company for practice. I'm sorry, I really wanted to spend time with you, but I'm not sure it's possible." He could feel his heart pounding as he began imagining her disappointed and disheartened look.

As expected, he heard her sigh through the other end, a brief pause where he only heard her breathing before she finally spoke up.

"That's fine. I'm going to be pulling extra hours today anyways so....don't be sorry. Maybe it works out in the end."

Mingi noticed how dry and monotone she sounded, as if it didn't really bother her that this would yet be another week where they hardly spoke and spent time together for more than 10 minutes.

"Oh ok....take care then, and remember to eat a snack in between hours ok? I don't want you starving yourself ok baby?"

The girl on the other end of the line didn't need to see him to know he was more than likely pouting at her as usual, always fussing to her about her health.

"Ok. Take care Mingi."

"Y/N!.............."

He bit his lip before saying the next words.

"I- I love you." Although he forced a smile on his face, his voice trembled with fear at saying that.

"I....I know. I gotta go."

Once more, she hung up without repeating those same words back to him. Mingi didn't understand why his girlfriend of forever seemed to be acting strange. Lately she hardly had anything to say, she looked less and less animated each time they video chatted, the dark circles under her eyes were becoming more prominent and judging by the way her cheeks looked a little sunken and clothes looked baggy on her, he fussed she was not eating properly.

But the thing that scared Mingi the most was seeing her soulless eyes. Those eyes that once held the entire stars in them, were now empty and completely void of any emotion. She never initiated any form of physical contact with him, it was always him pulling her into an embrace or placing a kiss on her head, nose or lips, and even when she reciprocated them, they were always cold and almost robotic.

It was starting to terrify him.

"Mingi!"

He nearly dropped his phone when the tiny leader called out to him.

"Break time is over. We gotta start again."

Putting his phone back in his bag he promised himself that even if he left at early dawn, he would go over and see his lover. He just had to.

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Letting out a long and exasperated sigh, Y/N kicked off her heels and left them on the front of the door, her toes aching after all the grueling and arduous hours of both sitting and running up and down floors. Her once neat bun now had various hairs poking out from several places and was now drooping lower than in the morning. She slumped her tired body over to her bedroom, ready to just indulge in a warm shower and then head to bed. But the last thing she expected to see when she turned on the light, was none other than her boyfriend.

"Hey." He waved his hand at her, a soft smile on his lips.

She was momentarily confused with his presence.

"I thought you had practice." She raised an eyebrow, her tone sounding more accusatory than with delight.

"I did...but then I came over here." He explained.

"Why?"

Mingi blinked at her question, stunned that she would even ask why. Getting up from the bed, he slowly walked over to her cautiously. Once he was right in front of her, he reached a hand out to caress her cheek.

"Why? I naturally wanted to see you.....hear you...touch you."

Arms wrapping around her waist, he lowered his face until he pressed a soft kiss to her mildly chapped lips. Although he felt her give in after a while, he could feel that her heart was not in it. Every brush of her lips felt extremely languid and emotionless, even after he had turned a little more desperate and began to trail messy kisses across her jaw, her hands did not move away from her sides, her head only tilting to allow him more access to her skin. Before he could move to pull off her shirt, she stopped him by gripping his wrists.

"If you don't mind I'd like to clean myself off first."

Not even giving him a chance to say anything, she pushed past him and made a beeline to the bathroom. Shutting the door behind her, she leaned her back on it, staring into the floor for a few minutes in a somewhat catatonic state. Taking a deep breath, she slowly removed each one of the articles of clothing on her body, all of them feeling like a heavy weight on her. Ripping the scrunchie off her hair, she tossed it onto the floor so it could join the pile that had already been made in a corner. Sliding the glass door open, she got inside the shower and quickly turned on the water, first the splashes coming out at an almost freezing temperature, which although her body shivered at, she did not shrink away from. Then the water finally adjusted to a more warm temperature, not too hot but warm enough to soothe her sore muscles.

Closing her eyes, she decided to simply bask in the warmth of the water coating her body, shutting off her mind from all the spiraling thoughts that had been clouding her mind for the past weeks, refusing to go away and seemingly taunting her at every hour when she least expected it. She hurt, she was in pain yet there were no physical evidence of it. She could barely eat more than 2 bites of any meal she intook because it suddenly felt too full. At nights, her eyes drooped heavy with sleep, yet her restless mind wouldn't allow her even one full hour of sweet slumber though that's all she wanted.....

She just wanted to fall asleep and hopefully never wake up so as to not feel the pain and emptiness she felt.

So lost was she in the moment that she failed to hear or notice the one individual coming in to join her until she felt familiar hands come to wrap themselves around her waist.

"It's all right love. It's just me." Mingi softly whispered when she gasped lightly at the sudden touch.

Letting her relax under his touch before doing anything else, Mingi's fingers slowly began drawing circles around her hips as he kept his face buried in her neck. Inhaling deeply, he could make out her unique scent that his senses had committed to memory, but could also faintly discern a somewhat different odor that he had never before detected on her before. It was slightly off-putting to him, but he opted for brushing it off. After all, she worked with several people at her job.

Slowly, he began peppering kisses along her shoulder, which seemed to trigger deep and blissful sighs to exude from her nose. His hands moved up to cup around her breasts, kneading at her soft skin while the thumbs grazed over her sensitive nubs in a careful motion. Soft moans poured out from her mouth. Tilting her head back, she reached a hand up to bring her lover's face to hers so she could kiss him. Her moans were now being eaten up by his mouth and tongue as his fingers stroked between her legs, probing at her folds and rubbing at her clit. Pulling apart to catch her breath, Y/N looked up at Mingi with longing and desperation.

"Please....more." She begged at him.

Prying her folds open, he carefully inserted two of his slender and long fingers inside her, her walls practically sucking him in. She felt so tight around him, her walls hugging and clenching all around his fingers. Y/N threw her head back against his shoulder as she began grinding against his hand, savoring as she was finally feeling something, anything in a long time. Her hand had moved to pet at his head, her fingers brushing away his now damp hair in gentle caresses. Wanting to see, feel him more, she removed his hand away from her mound and firmly pressed him towards one of the walls, where she then began to kiss him hungrily and in subtle anguish.

Mingi just allowed her to take control for that moment, his heart lightening up at finally getting some reaction from her. He let her take a hold of his erect cock and pump him slowly as her mouth sucked on several patches of skin on his neck to leave tiny blotches across it. He missed this, he missed being intimate with her and missed having her touch him, not to fulfill any sexual yearning, but to be close to her. He always saw these tender and passionate moments as a display of their love and bond.

Soon the water had been turned off and both of their dripping bodies were fumbling out and landing on top of the bed. Mingi hissed softly as he watched his beautiful girlfriend sink down and his length.

"Fuck. It's been too long."

Sitting up, he wrapped his arms around her, wanting to be as close as possible as he began to roll his hips up. Wanting to take his time, Mingi took one of her supple breasts and stuffed it in his mouth, giving it various light suckles and then adding a few kisses onto it. Y/N began panting and moaning uncontrollably, so many emotions rushing through her all at once. It seemed as if all that time of not feeling anything had left her somewhat numb to emotions that now she was beginning to feel overwhelmed by all the ones that were hitting her now:

Love, lust, passion, anger, fury, agony, guilt, one by one they all crashed into her head and heart. It was becoming too much for her and it began to scare her somewhat. But she didn't want them to stop, she wanted to cling onto those emotions just a little longer, no matter what or how. She hadn't even realized her hands had placed themselves on Mingi's broad shoulders, holding her steady as she began to bounce herself on top of him, slow tears trickling down her cheeks as muffled cries of desperation were being choked back and bitten back by her lips. Her fear of not feeling anymore soon turned to rage, and it was manifesting itself as she fucked herself on her boyfriend, who by now had noticed the change in her mood.

Mingi tried to grip her hips down, but she didn't seem to care and tried to push his hands away. His calling out to her fell upon deaf ears as she swatted his hands, tat were trying to steady her, away. Finally, he firmly held her wrists and kept her from moving as he forced her to look at him.

"Y/N!" He sharply exclaimed, breaking her out of her trance.

Feeling her body starting to shake, Y/N looked away in shame, her eyes threatening to spill out more tears.

"Baby, look at me, what's wrong?" Mingi gently cupped her chin.

Not meaning to be so mean, but Y/N brushed his hand away and began to climb off him.

"I'm sorry.... I'm so sorry."

Getting up, she ransacked her drawer and pulled out some clothes and dressed herself in an inhumane speed.

"Honey, we can talk about it-" Mingi tried to touch her once more but she pulled away once more.

"I don't want to talk about it! Please! I just want to go to bed."

Marching over to the closet, she grabbed some spare pillows and a blanket.

"I'm sleeping on the couch." She firmly stated, not about to let herself be dissuaded from her resolution.

"Y/N, please don't do this. Stop shutting me out."

With one final attempt, Mingi grabbed her shoulder and turned her arousal to face him, eyes intently searching and scanning every inch of her face for a clue as to what was bothering her.

"Talk to me love, you know you can."

Y/N opened her mouth, about to spill what was on her heart, but ultimately decided against it.

"I can't.....I'm sorry. Just please....let me be for now."

Mingi's hands fell to his sides in defeat as he watched the most important person in his life leave him there, alone. He hated this, hated having her become so distant from him. He could feel it in his heart that sooner or later she was going to snap and hurt his heart, probably more than what he was imagining.

But he was ready for that moment.

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Having gotten absolutely no sleep that night, Y/N ended up getting up just hours before the sun was supposed to rise. Making sure to make as little noise as possible, she made sure to bundle up since it was chilly outside. She looked over at the peaceful and sleeping figure of her boyfriend, who was softly letting out subtle snores as his hands clutched around a pillow, holding onto it as if his life depended on it. He could never fully call asleep unless he was holding something, that something always being her. She could make out a faint wet patch on his pillow where his cheek rested, tell tale sign that he had been crying the night before, just as she had done.

With a kiss to his forehead, she left the house and headed out, her destination still unclear. She just walked wherever her legs led her to, whether conscious or unconsciously. There was hardly a soul around to keep her company on that lonely and cold morning walk in the autumn breeze. Her teeth were chattering inside her mouth whenever a rather blunt force of air swooped past her, making her lick her lips as she felt them drying up even more.

Without realizing it she had come across a small and serene park, a trail specifically used for early joggers right in front of her. Following the trail, she kept her head down as she slowly strolled through the immense trees surrounding her. The golden and garnet hued leaves were scattered about all around the semi dead grass, some of it blowing through the air. She paid no attention to them though, she paid no attention at all to her surroundings. She couldn't feel anything anyways, even the cold air was becoming numb to her at this point.

"Mind if I join you?"

She halted in her steps when a low voice spoke from behind her. She didn't need to see him to know who he was.

"How'd you know I was here?" She questioned him without turning around still.

"Lucky guess."

Moving in front of her, Mingi's tall figure loomed over hers, studying her mood which right now seemed apathetic and melancholic. Standing there all quiet for a brief moment, Mingi was the one who decided to break the ice.

"I love you, you know that right?"

Without even batting an eye, Y/N slowly nodded. Expecting that reaction, Mingi chuckled dryly.

"You know it's been a while since I've heard you respond at all to me saying that...."

Once more, she had no expression on her face, hardly even blinking as she stared right through him, almost as if he wasn't there. But she was listening to him, and he knew it too. Brushing some hair behind her ear, Mingi let out a deep sigh.

"Y/N...... I know you're not ok. I don't know how or what it is you're feeling, but I want you to know that I'm here for you. Maybe you should go see a therapist, a doctor, I don't know. We'll find out what's wrong so you-"

"Mingi I don't know what I feel for you anymore."

He felt as if a knife had been plunged at his chest. Although he expected her to say something that would hurt him, he still wasn't fully ready to hear those words.

"Just 2 months ago you said and thought differently. Back then you always told me you loved me and cherished me." He kindly reminded her.

"Maybe feelings change." She bluntly stated.

"Yes they do which is why I don't believe you when you say you don't feel anything for me anymore. I know my Y/N, I know the girl I fell in love with and I know that these past weeks, seeing how you're acting.......that's not you."

She didn't move away when he cupped her cheeks.

"I know you still love me, I can see it in your eyes. Your love is just restrained right now. Just give it time. Trust me."

Choking back tears, Y/N finally made eye contact with him.

"Just end it Mingi. I don't have the heart to do it, so please just end things with me. Don't hold onto me anymore. Move on with your life and find someone who can love you like you deserve to be loved."

Mingi immediately shook his head, that being an option he was not accepting.

"Baby, do you need some time on your own? Some time alone? I can give you that. Maybe that way it'll be good for you to use that time to get help and-"

"Mingi I cheated on you." She confessed.

His body stood frozen in place at her admittance, yet he was not shocked at all. The weird scent he detected on her and the way she sometimes recoiled from his touch as if guilt ate her alive, he always had that thought on the back of his head.

"So you fell in love with someone else?"

Y/N let out a sob.

"No.......absolutely not. It meant nothing and I just did it because I wanted to feel something, anything and he was right there. But that's no excuse and I'm sorry Mingi. I'm sorry I'm not the girlfriend you deserve. You deserve so much better than me. Someone who's not broken, foolish and dead already. So please..."

Her hands came up to hide her face as she began crying like she hadn't done in a long time.

"Just forget about me....."

Even if she didn't want it, Mingi embraced her, holding her tightly as she tearfully spilled her heart and emotions out. His heart ached for her. She was suffering, emotionally and mentally she was in pain and she didn't even want to admit it. He couldn't force her to get help, but he couldn't just leave her like that. It would tear him apart if he did. Stroking her hair, he waited until her sobbing and hyperventilating had calmed down before saying anything.

"Y/N.....you need some time alone. We....need some time alone. And I'm willing to give you as much time as you need to heal. But you have to promise me that you'll get help. It's not fair for you to keep living this way. You deserve to be happy."

Pulling back, he used his thumbs to brush away some of the tears off her cheeks.

"But this doesn't mean I'm ending things nor forgetting about you. This is only a break until you're all better and ready to come back to me."

Y/N stared at him in disbelief.

"Song Mingi, you're an even bigger idiot than I thought you were."

He giggled softly at that.

"I'm an idiot who loves you and will always love you. And this idiot knows you still love me, even if your brain refuses to let you believe it now."

Pressing his forehead against hers, he shut his eyes to keep himself from crying.

"I'll be waiting for you until you come back to me....."

Taking off the red scarf that was hanging on his neck, he wrapped it around her neck and softly padded it on.

I know you'll be back."

◈◈◈⊰──────⊱◈◈◈⊰──────⊱◈◈◈

He left her with a final kiss on her lips and watched her walk away, disappearing from his life for about 2 years. Rain had begun to fall then just as it was falling in that moment. Picking up the untouched peppermint hot chocolate and discarding his cappuccino on a nearby trash bin, Mingi stepped out of the gazebo and began walking back to the hotel, not caring about getting soaked in the pouring rain. Perhaps it could help to mask the tears that were beginning to spill out from his eyes. He had never felt his longing for the person he still regarded as his soulmate so dearly as he felt right then and there. He felt as if his oxygen was being caught off, his hope was beginning to dwindle, all the words his friends would often say to him were revolving around his head.

Were they right? Should he stop waiting for her? Was he wrong? Should he just move on?

He was startled out of his thoughts when he heard someone open an umbrella behind him, the person hovering it over him so the rain wouldn't hit him anymore. He felt his heart beating harshly against his chest, some overpowering sensation telling him to turn around, which he slowly began to do. The first thing his eyes caught was the familiar red scarf tied to the person's neck. He recognized it immediately. And when he looked up at the face that was looking back at him, he no longer had any doubts left.

"Y/N...." He whispered out.

Through tears in her eyes, she smiled at him, not a fake nor cold one, but a genuine and heart warming smile, just like the one she had plastered on her face when they first met each other.

"Hey Mingi. How are you?" She asked.

"I...I'm fine. ....how are you?" They both knew what he was referring to.

"I'm a lot better actually. Taking medication still sucks but I'm a lot better and happier now. My therapist has been working with me all this time so...yeah.." She seemed a little awkward talking about it, but Mingi wasn't going to push her.

"I'm glad, I truly am happy for you."

Looking back at the cup in his hand, he held it out to her.

"It's probably not hot anymore, but it's your favorite."

Y/N was surprised that he even had or remembered what her favorite was. Taking a small sip, she couldn't help the tiny grin spreading on her cheeks.

"It's perfect. I never liked it super hot either way."

They both chuckled at that known fact between them. Soon there was another silence between them, and once again it was Mingi who broke it. Brushing some hair away from her face, he stared into her eyes.

"I love you."

Looking up at him, her eyes no longer void nor cold, but instead full of life and love, Y/N answered back.

"I love you too."

Unable to hold himself back, Mingi held her tightly, overwhelmed with emotions as he finally held the love of his life in his arms once more.

"I knew you'd come back to me...."

◈◈◈⊰──────⊱◈◈◈⊰──────⊱◈◈◈

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fanficflaneuse · 4 years

Text

Hardly A Date

Index

A/N: Hello lovelies! I’m sorry this took me so long. This has been a very awkward week. I was sad and I tried to dump my feelings into writing, but sometimes it’s not that easy...ugh I’m sorry. I hope you like this one. It was requested a while ago. Sorry for any grammatical mistakes. Also, I gave reader the physical characteristics of Lily Potters for (insert some good reasons). So, I am sorry if it’s not as immersive as it could have been.

Dearest anon requester, I’m sorry this took me so long. Let me know if you read it and like it (I really wish you do).

Draco x Potter! Reader (she/her) Word count: 2735 Summary: Draco has a crush on Harry’s twin sister, who resembles Lily Potter.

Enjoy!

Harry sulked all the way to potions class. It was the first day of fifth year and his twin sister, (Y/N), was getting too much attention for his liking. He had always thought his sister was beautiful, but now every boy in school seemed to have realized it as well. Over the summer, she had grown taller and curvier. Her red hair had darkened a bit more. She wore it long, which framed her face delightfully. The resemblances to their mother was such that not even aunt Petunia could deny it. It made her harsher towards (Y/N), but not even that dampened the girl’s spirits.

(Y/N) felt confident as she walked by her brother. Since they set foot on Hogwarts, she had been the more popular twin thanks to her kindness and vivaciousness. She paid no mind to the looks and laughed at her brother’s overprotectiveness. As the Fab Four sat at the very front, as per Hermione’s request, (Y/N) felt something hit her in the head. Her hands searched the back of her hair and grabbed the paper crane that landed on her head. She turned around to find the one and only Draco Malfoy staring at her wide-eyed. He had sent the bird as a taunt to her twin brother and in no way had intended for it to hit her. The thought of her seeing the cruel drawing inside the bird made his stomach churn.

Draco was transfixed. It was the first time he saw her since last year and her striking green eyes were doing wicked tricks to his heart. Since year one, he had a crush on her. He thought those who didn’t acknowledge her beauty should be burned at the stake. A year before, the blond had simmered in jealousy when he saw her at the Yule Ball with her brother, but that image paled in comparison to seeing her now. He cringed as she turned around, opening the paper crane.

Just as she did, Snape came in to the classroom. He was not in a good mood and it only got worse when he saw (Y/N) Potter sitting on the front row. She was scribbling something on a piece of parchment. She was the spitting image of Lily Evans during her schooldays, back when they were still friends and he clang to the sliver of hope that she’d love him like he did. It was almost painful to see his student. Her presence soured his mood even more, so he decided he was not putting up with it.

“Eva– I mean, Potter,” he said, motioning to (Y/N), “change places with Goyle.”

(Y/N)’s gaze went back, once again, to the back of the room, where the Slytherins sat. Gregory Goyle was sitting just besides Draco. She stood up silently and put her things in her bag. Harry groaned lowly.

“I’m definitely failing now,” he murmured.

(Y/N) gave him an encouraging smile. “It’s going to be alright, Harry. You’re good at this.”

“Never as good as you, sis,” he countered, “And if that prick does something to you I am going to kill him.”

She rolled her eyes in response and dramatically bid her brother goodbye. She walked all the way to the back of the room, where a very embarrassed Draco Malfoy waited for her. She greeted him cordially as she took her place. Draco and (Y/N) hadn’t crossed more than ten words at a time. She was not a hothead like Harry, so she hardly gave in to the taunting. At times, when he said something particularly nasty, she’d snap. Her comebacks were intelligent and sharp and often than not he’d be to flustered to answer. So, they were not on good terms, but not on a “I want to burn you alive and dance over your ashes” basis.

“I believe this is yours, Malfoy,” she said coolly after handing him the paper crane.

The Slytherin swallowed hard and took the bird from her hands without saying a word. He listened intently as Snape gave the instructions. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed her flipping through the pages in her book until she settled on the one with the recipe for the draught of peace.

They brewed the potion in silence. Draco was enamoured by (Y/N)’s gentleness and the way she’d handle everything with the utmost care. She was also unnaturally kind, as she didn’t seem bitter at him for the paper crane or anything, really. It was a relief.

“Are you sure we have to powder the unicorn horn?” He didn’t intend for it to come out as mean, but it sure sounded like that.

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, as if challenging him, and theatrically put more pressure on her mortar. Her lips turned into a mischievous smirk and Draco had to stop what himself from putting too much powdered moonstone into the cauldron.

“I recall you saw me read the instructions,” she answered matter-of-factly.

Draco scratched the back of his neck. He took a deep breath and nodded at her sheepishly. “Just checking,” he murmured.

“You should check your hands before adding the ingredients,” she teased as she pointed at the moonstone.

He smiled and raised his hands in mock surrender. “Are you suggesting that I don’t know what I’m doing?”

“I suggest nothing, Malfoy. I affirm.”

Draco was about to answer, finding the playful banter amusing, when Snape scolded them from his desk. Assuming they had been bickering, Harry turned around, shooting daggers at the blond and giving her sister encouragement she didn’t need. (Y/N) shrugged and, after her twin turned around, smiled kindly at Draco. After that, they worked mechanically. As their potion turned into the desired turquoise blue colour, (Y/N) even concluded that they were a good team.

As Snape approached to their desk, (Y/N) noticed how he didn’t even spare her a glance. He talked to Draco and asked him questions about the process. And when he gave them their well-deserved O, it was Draco he congratulated. (Y/N) said nothing of it, but found it frustrating. When he walked away, she released the breath she always held when he graded her and started packing.

Before she left, she flashed her classmate yet another impish grin. “I exhort you to open that paper crane.”

Once she was gone, the Slytherin opened the folded bird to find her intervention to his work. He had drawn Harry being hit by a thunder and falling off his broom. She had altered it for it to be him, falling and hitting the ground wrapped in a cloud of dust. It was so well done, Draco couldn’t be offended.

…

For the next two months, (Y/N) and Draco worked together in potions. Every time, they’d engage in small talk and friendly banter. He marvelled at her wittiness and her sense of humour. He loved it when she got dramatic and made theatrical gestures or used aristocratic language just because. Draco was falling hard and fast for the redhaired Potter.

It actually made him wonder over the nature of his hatred for her twin brother. He found her funny and charming. He felt so at peace when they spent time together. And then there was Harry Potter, who he found utterly irritating, brash and self-righteous. He didn’t understand how they could possibly be related. She was amazing in absolutely every way he was faulty.

Maybe he didn’t particularly hate Harry? And why didn’t he ‘hate’ (Y/N) anyways? She was just as self-righteous as her brother. They were practically joined at the hip and she was always involved in the same shenanigans as Harry was. They had the same eyes. Why hate them in one and love them in the other? What was the real reason for him to go out of his way to torment (Y/N)’s twin and friends?

Deep down he knew.

These thoughts consumed him as he did his rounds for the inquisitorial squad. At first, he had joined Umbridge’s team because he wanted the authority and for a while he enjoyed it. Then, (Y/N) and Harry got punished by their sadistic teacher and he no longer wore his badge with pride. He knew they were up to something, but seeing (Y/N)’s swollen hand during their next potion class was enough to feel ashamed of his position.

Draco was just about to go to his common room, when somebody collided with him. He was too deep in his thoughts to feel the rush of getting someone in trouble. And then noticed the deep red hair and the scared green eyes. His heart started beating hard on his chest.

(Y/N) was absolutely terrified. She hadn’t realized it was Draco at first; she was running as fast as she could from the room of requirement. Usually, she left D.A. meetings with Harry, but today he was playing Don Juan with Cho Chang and everyone else was gone. She was good at sneaking around. She was halfway there when she saw Peeves and decided to make a run for it before he saw her and woke the whole castle.

That’s how she had ended practically in Draco’s arms. She was sweaty and out of breath and now she had to deal with the Slytherin prince. He was nice to her in potions, but she wasn’t sure that was enough to get her off the hook. (Y/N) imagined herself getting another detention with Umbridge and it made her want to cry.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said as he grabbed her face tenderly.

For a second there, she thought she was hallucinating. She looked at him, eyes still teary, but also full of confusion. He smiled awkwardly, suddenly self-conscious of their position.

“A-Are you alright?”

“Just a bit agitated.” She tried to be as casual as possible.

“Let me walk you to your common room. That way nobody else will get you in trouble,” he said, offering her arm to her.

Draco knew that she was up to something. If he wanted to, he could’ve gotten all the dirt on their little secret society. She would’ve been in a lot of trouble and he’d be the hero of the school. He said nothing, though, especially because she was holding onto his arm for dear life. They walked peacefully towards the Gryffindor common room and with every step he could only think about the idea that had been brewing in his mind for a while.

(Y/N) thought she was in the most ridiculous situation. She was a member of Dumbledore’s Army and he was Umbridge’s minion. He could’ve gotten her, her brother and friends in trouble, which was what he had wanted to do since their first day in Hogwarts. And here they were, arms linked as he escorted her to safety.

Suddenly, they stood in front of the Fat Lady’s portrait. (Y/N) looked at Draco with gratitude. He nodded and offered her a smile. With trembling fingers, he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Draco noticed (Y/N) blushing a little.

“(Y/N)…there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he said, the sudden rush of confidence making him lightheaded.

“Yes?”

“Would you go to the next Hogsmeade trip with me? On a date?”

(Y/N) was speechless. She didn’t know Draco thought of her that way, but suddenly the fact that he didn’t rat her out made sense. Of course, he wouldn’t be as lenient had he found Harry or Hermione. She thought about it for a second and smiled when she noticed him getting uncomfortable.

“Let’s make a deal, Draco. The next Hogsmeade trip is a week from tomorrow. If you don’t bully anybody during the week, I’ll go out with you,” she proposed.

She noticed his eyebrows knitting in confusion. “What does that have to do with anything?” he groaned.

(Y/N) crossed her arms, amusedly. “Why would I want to go out with somebody that messes with my brother and my friends?”

He considered her for a while and then sighed in defeat.

…

“Is it true that you agreed to go out on a date with Malfoy?” Ron asked in alarm the next morning.

“I didn’t agree,” (Y/N) shot back as she put food on her plate.

Harry was looking at her disapprovingly and she was doing her best to avoid his gaze.

“You agreed to go out with him if he went a week without bullying us,” Hermione interjected with a reproving tone.

“That I did.”

“(Y/N)!” Harry roared.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to not be bullied for a change?” she asked him innocently.

“If the cost is that git snogging my sister then no, it wouldn’t be nice.”

(Y/N) gave him a stern look.

“What? That is what happens on dates, (Y/N).”

“Then you should hurry up and ask Cho Chang to one as well.”

She tried to be humorous, but it clearly didn’t work, so she tried to reason with him instead.

“Come on, Harry. It would hardly be a date,” she said while holding her twin’s hands, “besides, I know Draco can be a nice person if he tries. He has been to me in potions. Why not give him a second chance?”

Harry scoffed. “Why would I ever give that tosser a second chance? He has been messing with us since our first day here!”

They looked at each other and for a moment they had one of their silent conversations. Hermione and Ron stared as Harry failed to be stern and (Y/N) conveyed compassion in her eyes. As always, Harry gave in.

“You’re too kind for your own good, you know that?” he sighed, “and I mean it this time, if that prick does something to you I am going to kill him.”

…

“Which one’s better, ‘Mione?” (Y/N) asked as she held one dress in each hand.

Hermione helped her best friend get ready for her date. As much as she disliked Draco, the week events had made her realize he truly wanted to go out with (Y/N). Throughout the week, Harry and Ron taunted the Slytherin in hopes that he snapped at them, thus ruining the date before it even took place. Hermione had frowned upon their Machiavellian plan, but had not intervened nor rat them out. As the days went by, though, she noticed how hard he was trying to be good. He looked the other way as the Gryffindor boys laughed and teased. He avoided making snarky remarks in class. Once, he even helped Hermione when she tripped and fell.

It had been a very hard week, but he had succeeded. Now he waited awkwardly by the portrait for (Y/N), who arrived a few minutes later. She looked as beautiful as ever with a pretty floral dress. They smiled at each other and walked out of the castle, this time with the regulatory distance according to Umbridge’s decree.

As they made their way to Hogsmeade, (Y/N) thought this could possibly be the most awkward date of her life. It didn’t help that it would probably her first real date ever. What could they have in common apart from their shared space in potions? What would they talk about? Then, she noticed how Draco was fidgeting with his fingers. She found that cute and it made her instantly relax.

As they sat at the Three Broomsticks, all of their collective fears of a bad date were soon proved wrong. They had a great time together. They talked about their favourite candies, their favourite pastimes, quidditch. Draco asked about her life as a muggle with genuine curiosity. She was actually very blunt about her situation at home, something that both marvelled and unsettled him. They laughed and made jokes and got theatrical together.

They walked back to the castle hand in hand. Once they reached the school, Draco dragged (Y/N) through some less frequented corridors. Engrossed in their conversation as they were, they failed to notice the Gryffindor trio following them. Harry and Ron were absolutely enraged as they saw the couple stop behind a column. Hermione had to restrain them when Draco put his hand on (Y/N)’s cheek. She squeezed their arms as the blond boy leaned in and gave (Y/N) a kiss she happily corresponded.

Harry was livid. His baby sister had her arms around that slimy git’s neck. He wanted to rip his head off.

“Hardly a date my arse,” he muttered under his breath.

tags: @cleopatera @okaydraco @naomi02hook @the--queen-of-hell @honeymarvel @the-hufflefluffwriter

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kkulmoon · 4 years

Text

I KNEAD YOU | jhs ✦ m

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You have had your mind filled with indecent thoughts of your spin class trainer, Hoseok, ever since you started taking his classes. However discreet you thought your antics had been, Hoseok had somehow found out and was more than willing to fulfil your fantasies.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Hoseok x Reader(f) | 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, pwp? | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+ | 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.3k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cunnilingus, fingering?, slight praising, ass play, he has his hand around her neck, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys~), slight edging, groping, biting, spanking, bathroom sex.

𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐲: my muse and soulmate @inkedxclouds as well as the amazing @meowxyoong (thank u loves <3333)

𝐚/𝐧: nothing to say other than I seem to like butts more than I thought,,,,, also victoria monét’s “ass like that” was the very inspo for this au, cause that song is a bop and for some reason it gave me hobi vibes + “juice” by lizzo (though I doubt the fic gives off that type of vibe but oh well) enjoy 🥺

Three months down the line and you’d think you would have developed somewhat of a sweat resistance by habitually working out. No, not at all. Still as sweaty as ever, but maybe now it was less about hard work, and more about hard want. You relax onto the closed toilet seat sighing deeply at your unfortunate situation. The changing room wasn’t safe and neither was the shared portion of the washroom.

At every and any small intermission you were offered during the heated class, you dashed towards the toilets letting your sweaty fingers hectically slip against the cold metal of the tap handles. The cold water slipping past your fingers as you tapped its remains on your skin, hoping to cool down or at least seem cool enough. But there’s only so much a little bit of cold water could do for your overheated body. As aware as you were about this, you made it a habit, involuntary of course, to let some of that desire out in the confinements of one of the bathroom stalls.

Today is no exception. You rush to the toilet, rugged breaths filling the air as you snap the flimsy lock shut, bending over to roll off your snug cycling shorts. You think back to Hoseok’s instructions : “You should always keep an eye on your breathing while doing vigorous exercise, you want to avoid back pain and strain on your blood vessels.” Back in class you almost let your thoughts tumble through your heaving mouth. “I don’t think exercise is the one doing that”.

As obedient as you are, you let deep puffs reverberate through your chest before diving in. Your hands, tired from clenching hard against the handle of the cycle to stay on it, tremble their way down your folds swinging with the same dynamic present in Hoseok’s glistening legs while he pedals. Your eyes flutter, blinding you from your surroundings, mind tumbling through all the imprinted images of your instructor you have stored in your mind.

That’s all you need. For now.

While you suck at cycling and picking up speed in that circumstance, the image of Hoseok’s huffing mouth, stable legs, and bouncing brown locks, drenched with his hard work, sticking to him the way you wanted him to stick to you, was more than enough for the tentative deep plunge of your fingers to rival the set speed record for your spin class.

Remember: deep breaths Y/N. You slow down, finger languidly straining against your walls. You hit a particular spot, staggering on the one leg touching the ground as your other hand anchors your edged form onto the whimsy bathroom stall walls.

The slow pace allows you to revel in the imagery of Hoseok’s long fingers pointed high in the air to countdown to your thirty second long spinning sprint, imagining those long digits plunged into the same heat your fingers are scissoring. He would know exactly what to do, ordering consecutive gushes of arousal out of you, the same way his fingers point towards your direction when he sees your energy falter.

With Hoseok, nothing but one hundred percent was acceptable. While you couldn’t always keep the promise of giving him just that in all of his classes, if he were to ask you, whether it be after class or somewhere in the lobby of the gym building, you would say yes to showing him where you excelled without fail.

Heart beating a firing rhythm you would snatch his trained fingers to some designated corner of the building, ready to get on your knees and stay there to take it all, the one posture you knew you could manage to keep without fail. Anything for Hoseok really.

Dripping fingers, drying cycling shorts clinging to your heated flesh, you croak out a moan, doing your best to quiet it down in the sleeve of your gym top. “Shit—” your hips buck into your erratic palm as you knead the sensitive flesh of your bud, hissing through clenched teeth.

“What the fuck are you doing to me, Hoseok,” the whispered whine travels to the small cracks of the bathroom stall, the sloppy sounds of your continued assault on your wetness bounce against the walls to fall upon the ears of the figure entering the toilet room.

“Hmmmm, fuck Hoseo—”

Your anticipated wave of pleasure catches your breath, stuttering breaths colouring the air with its warm essence. “Ahhhh,” you sigh into the sensation rippling through your bones, fisted hand sprawling itself across the cool wood of the bathroom stall door. A particular touch of your knuckles against your clit has your nails scratch against the material.

In the heat of the moment, eyelids heavy and ears focused on recalling the authority of Hoseok’s voice, you fail to register the footsteps that sound in the room. Footsteps that stall themselves during your explosive demonstration of your instructor’s effect on your body only to leave the toilet room after you’ve calmed down and said in a condescending yet satisfied tone, “How pathetic, masturbating to your instructor in the bathroom like some teenager. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Puffing out what’s left of your pent up air, you drag your fingers from your settling walls, staring longingly at the wetness and wishing you could be looking at another pair of fingers glazed with your cum.

Hand hanging lazily by your side you do your best to lift your shorts back up to a correct position using your only available hand. You fiddle with the lock, slowly opening the door. You peek to see if there’s anyone there to whom you might reveal your latest conquest and only probe your head out of the stall when the coast feels clear.

As weak as legs might feel, you do your best to hurry up with the cleaning, washing the product of your forbidden fantasy down the drain just like the possibility of ever actually having the honour to let yourself be used by him in any way he sees fit.

Commanding words and strokes telling you exactly what he wants you to do for him, to give to him and you doing your absolute best to abide with clenched fists and a gagging mouth. You feel yourself fall down the rabbit hole, again, but you bring yourself back with a good shake of your head. You do not have another ten minutes to calm yourself down by attempting to fulfill your own lust.

You take one last look at the mirror to check that you do not look abnormally flustered before you leave to head back into the spinning room, face sweet and innocent, unlike the thoughts trying to invade your mind the moment your eyes focus on their inevitable target.

The hypnotising movement of his lips. Inviting and pink and shimmering from the quick swipe of his pointed lip against the surface. You sigh, in desperation, wishing for the presence of that muscle somewhere else. How pathetic of you, you think, almost releasing a single sobbing sound out of frustration. If only he knew.

You heave yourself into the cycle, fitting your tensed feet into the small caged armor of the pedal, unaware that Hoseok indeed knew and was very much ready to act on it.

His sudden constant and deliberate churning of your increasingly hot figure has you agitated, gaze meeting the floor. It is unusual for Hoseok to get off of his spin bike and personally assist you with your posture. Rather, he settled for quick commanding reminders that were shouted as enthusiastically as possible despite the sternness of his sweating face.

Yet for some reason, unbeknownst to you, he stops spinning and drags his taut slim legs all the way to where you like to stay at the back of the class, to personally adjust your swaying pelvis. “Engage your core. Squeeze your glutes.” He says, the order somehow managing to sound even louder than the blasting music. This is the first time he has touched you. You immediately stop spinning, hips swaying even more than before, chasing the inviting and rough heat of his short finger glove covered hands.

Your heart should have calmed down by the time he got back on his bike, but it doesn’t. You fail to admit to yourself that the coincidental eye contact you had with Hoseok in his classes, was more than enough to throw off your already fumbling posture.

If his wandering eyes are enough for you to follow their movement, accentuating each part that they laid on, his hands on your straining body is all you need to alleviate the ache of your muscles. You turn into a puddle, something that manifests itself right between your legs even before your body comes in contact with his.

“Okay guys, we have another half hour before we are done, so stay with me and there will be a sweet treat at the end,” Hoseok shouts out to the class, bursting your little thought bubble. Your eyes close as you nod, encouraging yourself to pull through, not for the sweet treat but for you. It’s the least you can do given how much you pay for these classes. But what a shame that your eyes are closed, unable to register the hungry and curious gaze Hoseok throws your way.

Twenty minutes have gone by, or maybe just ten? You feel so hot and disoriented from all the effort you’re putting in. Yawning, and trying your best to rid yourself of the final remains of sleep, you had theorised in your car that your goal for this class was to beat your old record, the one you had back when you came to class for the right reasons. Before the thought of riding Hoseok overtook your ambition to get fitter.

Calves burning, every muscle pushing itself to the verge of exhaustion, you think back to your breathing. Your mouth opens and closes as if you are giving birth, trying its best to collect all of the sweat ridden air needed to keep you going.

“Five minutes left. Keep going, you’re almost there!”

Your hanging head, that was focused on counting the sweat droplets falling from your face onto the shiny floor, shoots up to look at your instructor. It must be because of his job as a trainer and a coach that Hoseok flashes you his dashing smile the minute your eyes, gleaming with hope at the prospect of the class soon coming to an end, meets his own soft gaze.

Not wanting to seem rude or like a total nutjob, you tame your panting mouth into a simple smile, no teeth so as to not come across as too excited about something as infantile as eye contact. He winks in response and you swear you almost twist your ankle leaning forward to check if your eyes aren’t deceiving you.

Hoseok’s good at his job. He manages to keep your mind away from the propagating ache in your body as your legs chase time, looking to leave the room with your own small victory. He keeps you rooted and gives you the last bit of energy you need to make it. The timer beeps, startling you. You shake in your seat, breaking your contact with his warm brown eyes. If this is the power of his eyes, what the heck does his body have in store?

As much as you would want to let your mind wander to give you a probable hypothesis to the complicated case that is Hoseok, you’re too far gone to think that deep. Drained and sweaty, your arms dangle on your sides as you let your head lifelessly fall onto the bar of the spin bike. Too weak to push yourself back up but still wanting to know how far you cycled, you roll your drenched head onto the speed counter and stare down at it. At the sight of the double digit number, larger than the previous feat you had achieved, you sigh, a light laugh slipping past your dry lips. Finally some good news. As a way of congratulating yourself, you pat your thighs with the little force you have spared.

The surrounding claps invade your wandering ears, as people shout out, patting themselves in the back and congratulating others for pulling through. Nobody congratulates you but it’s nothing you haven’t had to handle before. Content with your progress, you step off the cycle.

You gather your items, hurrying as you feel the effects of gorging on too much liquid during class. With a drenched towel hanging of your forearm and an empty water bottle in your other hand you speed to the unisex toilet.

As you set your belongings on the sink countertop, someone enters. You don’t bother to spare them a glance, something you regret the minute Hoseok’s familiar tight fitting cycling top is reflected on the wide mirror. Your head instinctively looks his way to admire the soft slope of his nose and the harsh lines of his profile. He knows you’re looking to which he smirks softly. Your body shifts more to your right, afraid of what other things, sinful things, you might feel compelled to do if you stay so close to him.

You aggressively pump some soap into your palm, anything to remove the silence etched in the surrounding air. Hoseok does the same, except he does it graciously like everything else he’s ever done.

“Y/N, right?” He inquires, letting a steady stream of water wet his hands as he lathers them.

Your mind tells you he’s simply asking for formality’s sake. Did he plan to keep a conversation with you in the bathroom? How much could you possibly fit into the time it takes to wash your hands? Unless he plans on drawing it out and drying out his skin? Many more questions run through my mind as you bite your lips, eyes staring at the floor until they inevitably wander up his legs.

This is your verbal first interaction with him that doesn’t seem to hint at any subject related to your given roles in the establishment, a trainer and his trainee. No, he’s asking as Hoseok, curious to know about a certain regular Y/N who spends her free time thinking indecent thoughts about his body.

Realising that you’re taking too long to answer to your own name, you blurt out, “YES!” before clearing your throat in hopes to compose yourself. Swallowing thickly, you have another go at it, “I mean, yes, that’s my name. Y/N is me.”

While your ears warm up at your embarrassing behaviour, Hoseok’s soft chuckle manages to overpower the loud hand dryer. Usually, once someone’s done cleaning their hands they leave the bathroom and that’s exactly what you see Hoseok do. You watch him walk up to the toilet room door only to turn back around to face the mirror, doing your best not to let the dejected feeling in you overtake your features.

You breathe in, trying your best to catch your sanity. He was just being nice and trying to break the tension, one you seem to believe could only be perceived from your side. With eyes closed, you let the cool rush of the water provide some sort of relaxation and solution to your heated body. Your dripping hands reach towards the hand dryer on your side only to reach back when you think about the hot air, you don't need to get fired up again, so you decide to pat yourself dry with paper towels.

Ready to leave, you look up into the mirror to take one last inspection at your face.

Oh.

Hoseok’s eyes catch your own. He’s leaning against the toilet’s room door frame, head slightly hanging to his side and tongue dancing calmly in the small intrusion between his lips. You thought he left?

You want to look away, but you can’t. Not only because of the demanding energy coating his eyes, but also because of the entrancing way he runs a hand past his hair, heel kicking against the door as he pushes himself off of it.

He darts towards you. Or at least that’s what it feels like to you. An overwhelming wave of desire coats your senses forcing your legs to stagger backwards as your butt comes in contact with the hard and cold edge of the sink counter.

Those hands, those fingers, the ones you’ve fantasied about having buried inside of you or stuffed in your mouth, find their way on each side of you anchoring themselves on the hard surface as Hoseok corners.

He’s close. Close enough to hear your shallow breathing, to notice your confused yet intrigued eyes and to smell the fertilised desperation in your body. Head somewhat leaned down so as to reach your gaze, he lets his eyes take their own free tour around your face, mouth slightly parted.

“I don’t think it’s pathetic at all,” he breathes out, sloping down to bathe your hot ears in his warm breath, “it’s cute, actually.” The sweet tone is almost enough to deceive you of his intentions but the prominent scraping of his teeth against your earlobe makes it clear.

Your chest curls into itself at the action, slipping down, out of reach from his inviting mouth. You want to think it’s a coincidence that Hoseok references your words from earlier but to simply think isn’t enough, you need to confirm it. “Uhmm… I don’t kn–ow what you’re referring to.” It comes out more jagged than you intended to as he steps closer, so as to almost graze your heaving chest.

A pout on his lips, his gaze zig zags across your features, “See, cute.”

You feel like you’re melting. Your face finds refuge in the minor protection of your shoulder as you squeeze your eyes shut. This is all you had thought about. To have Hoseok look at you as if he already knew what is obscured from his sigh, for now, a sight he couldn’t wait to explore. To let his eyes, hands and mouth colour his imagination into reality.

“I mean that it would be nice if I could show you what I can actually do to you.” If you were properly breathing before you sure you aren’t anymore. His voice is covered with sweetness and curiosity. It acts as both a gentle threat and a request. He could and would show you.

The rub of your knee against his thinly clothed thigh says yes before you manage to catch enough air to utter an eager “please”, eyes opening to stare at his chest. “Go ahead,” at the sight of your yearning eyes he encourages you. The thin elastic material did little to protect your sanity from the hardness of his body.

Had your eyes been closed, you could have been fooled into believing that you were touching his naked chest. You pinch the material, tugging it off his skin only to let it slap back down. Something that brings a soft smile to Hoseok’s shifting lips. Hoping that he understands your wordless request, you repeat the action a couple more times.

He dodges your eyes more than once, letting his playful side show, before he leans into you. Your lips collide, strong enough to have your head inclined against the mirror, your body moving upwards at every hungry push of his determined body. You latch onto him, hands lacing themselves around his straining biceps as you match the feverish dance of his tongue.

If your moaning wasn’t already evidence enough of your state, Hoseok’s willingness to offer more encourages him to run a slow swipe of his delicate hands up your thigh and dangerously close to where you’ve imagined him placing every class that you’ve attended. The touch is prominent enough to have you squirming, letting whiny moans spill into his smirking lips as your legs bring him closer.

But Hoseok’s gentle yet clear tapping of your thighs tells you he has something else in mind. “Stand back up.” The order is clear yet in your current hazy state, you slide off the counter anticipating your weak landing, something Hoseok takes care of by pushing you flush against him.

Following through, he presses his long fingers in the soft flesh of your ass, spreading your cycling shorts covered cheeks all while pushing you closer to his straining cock. Spread out, head shying away from looking at his face, he leans in with a soft whisper, “Now tell me, kitty, how did you get an ass like this?”

Timid hands roam across his hard frame as your intended whisper becomes a rushing gasp, pulled out from you by Hoseok’s prominent kneading of your ass, “You.”

“What did you say, sweetheart?”

Hesitant, and quite frankly too hot to think straight, you let it all spill out.

“It’s because of you. You gave me an ass like this.”

“Huh, you think so?” His stretched palm travels up and down your clothed cheeks. You don’t respond letting the steady stream of strained moans be an answer in itself. “So you’re saying, my classes gave you this juicy ass,” He hisses out, firmly squeezing the jiggly flesh.

You nod your head against his shoulder, humming in agreement, the cadence at which the soft moans escape intensifying. Moans that you attempt disguise by biting into his cycling jersey.

“Don’t you think I should get to enjoy what I created?” The implications of his question makes your breath hitch.

What is he thinking of doing. Anal? Eating your ass? Spanking? Your mind is in haywire but you know what you think.

“You can do anything you want.”

“Anything?”

You nod once again, hardened buds tickling his covered chest. All Hoseok does is smirk at your eagerness.

“Not today, kitty,” he pushes lightly against your breasts, making your shiver at the friction, turning you around with a swift hand as he shakes his head, “I like it from the back.”

You’re now facing the mirror, able to notice the distraught state of your body as your desperation creeps further into your limbs. Hoseok finds himself caging you in again, but while you could have hid your warming face in his chest before, now you’re completely exposed.It’s something that brings a playful expression to his features.

As if he wasn’t already close enough to you, Hoseok drives his eager hips into the heated plumpness of your butt and your fingers tense further around the edge of the countertop. Every hitching breath of yours is complemented with his groans.

“What a beautiful ass I’ve made,” he says, pride in his voice as he crouches down behind you to give each cheek its own shameless squeeze. “Don’t you agree?”

“Hmm,” you hum breathlessly before a pointed strike to your cheek makes it clear that that’s not how he wants you to respond. Nodding, head straining backwards to catch Hoseok’s dark gaze, your knees buckle driving your ass closer to his face while you whine out a stuttering yes.

Hoseok’s your trainer. He knows how breathing works during physical activities and makes it known that, whether or not you’re in class, he rules still apply. It’s soft, yet commanding whispers to not forget to breathe or he will stop, tingling confessions that let his appetite for your body infest your nerves as you delve deeper into despair. You want his cock inside of you and, unlike your willingness to wait, his patience is much greater.

The continuous sway of hips quickens his breaths, and they land on your shoulder where they leave shivers that travel down your spine forcing you to shimmy your ass into his crotch even harder. “Come on, kitty, patience.” He breathes out, biting your scalding shoulder.

“Nghh, but plea—,” the hard slap that lands on your misbehaving cheeks has you stiffening, hands slipping against the glass. At this point you’re sure you’re not going to sit down on your train ride back home. Hoseok seems to want to leave you sore and marked.

“I said patience. I will give you what you need when I want to.” You nod lazily, not that your mind registers the sentence, but the alarming tone has you on your best behaviour.

Your compliant action earns you a few sloppy kisses along your covered shoulders, his hands snaking upwards to catch the zipper and let it slide down as you bend, body yearning for his touch until his determined hands engulf your freed and neglected mounds.

“Hmmm, just as soft and juicy as your ass.” He moans loud and clear and you fear someone outside might hear. Yet it still makes you melt onto his hard body. “Hose—yes, like that, ahhhh.”

Hoseok, given his position, does like orders, something he lets you know by running his fingers around your perked buds and squeezing them so hard you screech and bend even deeper. Fuck. As much as it hurts it also feels so good; your watering folds are proof enough.

“I don’t like to repeat myself, Y/N. Misbehave and I’ll keep drawing this out, leaving you wet and begging for me.” His tone is calculated and laced with a certain layer of pity that has you whining as you place one hand on his forearms to turn around and meet his eyes.

You witness the slowed blinking of his eyelids and hope that he can decipher your distressed eyes that ask for more. While Hoseok cares for his trainees, he likes to push them to see how far they can go. That’s what the smirk creeping up on his lips tells you.

“All in due time, kitty. First, let me taste something that I want to make mine.” One confident hand pats your dripping pussy to further awaken your sensitive nerve endings. Your thighs instinctively snap shut capturing his hand. Hoseok catches your eyes in the mirror, shaking his head before delivering another strike to your ass.

“Ahhh, shit,” you bite your quivering lips and let your hesitant thighs part to welcome the sweet slide of Hoseok’s fingers past your clothed folds as he hums in approval at the present wetness. “Just how I like it.” The praise compels a soft smile on your end.

You can’t hide the confusion that coats your features when he suddenly extracts his hand, something that has him snickering to himself. He enjoys torturing you and you want to complain but you don’t think your ass could handle anymore pain so you suck up your remarks along with some air.

Your head dances around, left to right and back again trying to figure out what exactly he plans to do as he crouches back down to face your butt. Before you can enquire in order to save yourself from any surprise attacks, he dives his head into the expanse of your globes shaking it as you squeal trying your best not to lose your stance.

He hums deeply, breathing in your scent and you whimper once his wet tongue pokes out to slide along your pussy lips, his saliva mixing in with your oozing arousal. His arms snake around your thighs, fingers digging into the flesh to push you further against his face. “Fuck, your kitty is dripping for me.” You manage to hear the muffled sound above the blend of his groans and your stumbling moans. But for once Hoseok doesn’t abide by his own rules as his hands rush to the hem of your cycling shorts, wanting nothing more than to rip them apart, to have you bare as to allow him to witness your clenching pussy– soon to be his pussy.

Exposed and wet, ready for him since the day you laid eyes on him, you stare down at his soft brown locks, where your hands will find refuge in shortly, and try your best to examine his eager expression through hooded eyes. He has your right leg up on his shoulder and you let the rhythm of his stroking hand guide your breaths. “So fucking pretty,” his other hand travels up your other thigh, “and wet,” he bites his lips leaning into your drenched center, “and mine.”

It’s only one lick but you already feel like falling apart, hands squeaking against the mirror. “Ahhh shit,” your hips move on their own accord, meeting his hot appendage and coating it with your increasing neediness. Either Hoseok doesn’t mind or your eagerness, looking to satisfy your own urge, doesn’t register in his mind as all that’s there is the goal to have you trembling and gushing all over his hungry mouth.

For each lap at your folds, he takes a breath away. Your fingers find the courage to place themselves on his head, soft hair left to be scrunched in your clenched fist. His head moves vigorously up and down, drinking up your juices under feverish groans and needy hands that latch on the cheeks of your ass to keep you from staggering away.

His tongue drives your pants, saturating your cunt with pointed licks coupled with soft nibbles at your throbbing clit, an action that has you quivering in surprise. “So fucking sweet,” he drags out the suckling of your vulva as he hums, satisfaction clear on his face as his tongue slides across his bottom lips. You mewl, hips bucking into the empty air. He plants a soft kiss on your heat, “Just for me. How cute.”

“Hoseok, please,” your strained plea runs from your lips without much thought to meet his mocking pout. You’re so close, you just need him to keep lapping at your soaked entrance, feasting on your juices and you would come undone before you know it.

However Hoseok seems to have other plans in mind as he stands back up, the straining in his pants all the more noticeable in his tight shorts. He leans in to kiss your neck, holding your behind flush against his cock. “Unfortunately, I can’t eat you out until you fall apart. We wouldn’t want anyone to come open the door, now would we?”

Your want has made you forget your predicament. You’re in the bathroom of your gym, ready to have the trainer you’ve been daydreaming about rail your neediness away. He made sure to lock the door but someone could soon start asking questions, looking for staff to complain to. Staff who would surely hurry to unlock the door, after all client satisfaction is important. Something that Hoseok is very aware of.

You shake your head as his husk approval meets your slick ear, “Good kitty.” He bites the shell of your ear, scraping against the heating flesh, “Now spread your legs for me.” You shuffle your feet side to side following his orders, legs too heavy to lift. “You’re doing so good for me,” he says, hoping to reassure you as his hands leave your body and you watch him, in the mirror, slide his pants down to expose his erect and flushed cock.

You almost turn around on instinct, one based on your countless dreams of having him in your mouth, weighing down your tongue. But you stay put, resorting to ogling his long and pretty dick. Hoseok doesn’t seem to mind as his hand goes to stroke lazily at the throbbing length while continuing to keep his distance from you.

His eyes lock with yours and you whimper because you know exactly what you could do to that dick of his if he’d just let you. However, he’s adamant on having his way with you. Maybe another time? Maybe. You close your eyes to let the sour thought of this being a one time occasion wash away and let Hoseok’s touch bring you back to the moment at hand.

His hand digs into the flesh of your hips and your needy heat clenches around empty air at the sweet and slow slide of the fleshy and precum glazed tip of his cock. Hoseok’s likes to drink up your reactions, staring into the mirror to admire your furrowed brows, your open mouth and your squeezed eyelids as he continues to run his pulsating member up and down your slit. He slips up, his enthusiasm getting the best of him as the tip grazes your clit and you bite into your clenched fist, your moan still managing to seep through.

Hoseok’s chest leans into your back as he places one of his hands above yours. He orders your gaze to meet his, the other hand hiding between your bodies to position himself at your entrance.

“This is gonna be just like our sprints in class. Are you ready, kitty?”

You munch on your wet lip, and repeat, through your panting mess, the only the only two words that seem to be in your mind, “Hoseok plea—ahhh”

His hard cock eases into your needy walls, slowly filling you up as his other hand moves back to restrain your only free hand. Chest against back, hands weighing on yours, and forehead bent down against your shoulder, he bottoms out and you release a combined sigh. You shut eyes spring open to stare at the delightful connection between your edged bodies. You can’t comprehend the situation, nor do you try to. This is really happening, huh?

It feels too good. Too good to be true and too good for your practically spasming pussy. Hoseok’s calm approach is short-lived, his second thrust as frantic as your breaths. The force at which he moves inside your slick walls, force strong enough to have the edge of the sink countertop dig against your stomach.

Your hand reaches back to hold onto his shoulder, trying your best to stay stable as each continuous attack of his hips sounds against your tender ass. Hoseok drags his dick out, making you moan and pant so much you’re clouding the mirror. He eagerly snaps back against your straining tightness, bottoming out as he puffs out laboured breaths and you gasp into your trembling shoulder. “Yes, yes, right there,” you sigh in between ragged breaths

He delivers another pointed thrust, pumping himself deeper into your warmth, “Here?” He breathes out and you nod hastily.

You can feel the short yet intense slap of his balls against your ass, the thrill of it all making you bend to spread your legs even further apart. Your face only centimeters away from the cold, metal tap, you shriek feeling the weight of Hoseok’s imprints on the small of your back as he pounds your sopping pussy. “Shit, all of this for me?” He pants, delivering his beloved strikes on the ass he’s made.

With your current limited vocabulary all you can do is nod, head bracing itself in the crook of your arm. Chasing your own pleasure, all while melting on the wonder that’s Hoseok’s cock, you move your hips to meet the now frantic pummelling of his straining dick.

One of his hands migrates to surround the soft and tender flesh of your neck as he pulls you up to reveal your fucked out gaze. “So fucking pretty.” He suckles the skin of your neck, biting into it to suppress his own moans. You wrap your hand around his forearm, chanting your go-to high-pitched request once again, this time managing to add one more word, “Hoseok, please, harder.”

Your heart is about to leap out of your chest at sight of the soft gaze he throws under heavy eyelids. “Anything for you, kitty.” And he gives you just that. He pumps in and out, hard, hand still around your neck, more so as a sweet gesture to help your head stay put as he admires his work. His other arm pushing you flush against his body, mushing your ass cheeks against his crotch. A feeling he welcomes with a low hiss.

Hoseok’s dick pulsates against your walls, as they suck him deeper, his length allowing him to graze spots in you nobody has touched before. The quick and pointed hammering makes your breath stutter. You’re so close, you think, but fail to communicate, mouth unable to form any coherent sounds apart from heavy moans and whines.

You spare a glance in Hoseok’s direction, to see his head nested in the crook of your neck, eyes shut and his cheeks puff out for every passionate thrust he delivers. Warmth, not the kind that comes from your current vigorous activity, but the one that’s born out of hope for more, overtakes you only this time you have no wish to dispel it.

Your free hand meets your sensitive bud, rubbing circles as his cock continues to make a mess of you. He must have felt the soft graze of your fingertips against his hot girth as his hands move to meet yours. He slides his fingers past your slick coating fingers that are soon placed back on your clit. Digits dancing around each other, your chest stutters into the bliss, back morphing into the bend of his chest. “Oh,Hos– ahhh, I’m clo–se.”

Hoseok finds the sounds that leave you endearing, a smile stretching along his lips. “Go on kitty, let my pussy cum all over me.” You shut your eyes, lips pressed against each other, glutes clenched to Hoseok’s striking approval, letting your pent up and often castoff desire for a certain man with a blinding smile, and inspiring ethic rush over your limbs, choked moans leaving your once sealed lips.

He thrusts on every breath intake, adamant on literally taking your breath away as his own unraveling follows shortly. Even in this state of frenzy, he manages, ever the professional and hard worker, to land his last thrusts just where he wants them. Deep within you, before he snatches his hypnotising member away from your ever yearning heat to decorate your back with a fat load, as he grunts out, “Ugh, hmph–mine.”

Strikes of white cum hit you as you sigh, trying your best to regulate your breathing all while hitting your face to convince yourself of the reality of the situation. You just fucked your trainer. The one you’ve been fantasising about for the past three months. You try to find some sort of guilt, looking to appease your mind and assure yourself that nothing bad will come out of this.

You’ll still be able to attend your lessons each week, sitting down at your same spot, staring ahead at him indifferently as he manages to not even break a sweat during his excruciating classes. You tell yourself that you’re sure everything will go back to normal once the two of you step outside the sex stenched toilet room. Everything will be just fine. You almost believe it, until you’re brought back to the present moment, as he swipes a cool water drenched paper towel against your ruined slit. Yeah, this is bad.

Mixing fantasies, longing stares and care can only lead to one possible thing. A bus you doubt he would jump on if it were to show up at his door steps. You scramble to retrieve the towel and proceed to clean yourself. Hoseok jumps at your less than gentle action, but decides not to give it much thought, unlike you.

“Thanks,” you attempt to lessen your rude behaviour. He gives you a lopsided smile, winking away your weakly established reassurance that you’ll manage not to think about this encounter from a point of view that’s filled with craving feelings and expectations.

“That was nice.”

You fail to suppress the laughter that’s screaming to be released, to see him flustered has you smiling, nodding reassuringly at his statement.

“Very nice, indeed,” you respond, throwing away the towel as you join Hoseok in putting your cycling shorts back on and closing the zipper of your cycling jersey.

Your eyes travel across the room to make sure that nothing is terribly out of place or different before your hands stroke down your front while you stare at the now silent man. You wait, expecting him to say something, wanting him to. When he doesn’t seem to have it in his plans to speak again, you turn around to walk towards the key he left in the lockset of the door.

A loud cough sounds behind you and you snap around, eyes eagerly staring at him to notice the full blown smile on his glowing face, making your heart skip.

His fingers gestures towards his back and once he notices your confused expression, he articulates his concern with a small laugh and scratch to his neck, “Uhm, you kinda forgot the back, my…. yeah, is still there”

“Oh,” you turn around to look at your back through the mirror. The sight alone of his cum has your mouth watering and legs clenching, something that doesn’t go unnoticed to Hoseok’s focused eyes. Just the reassurance he needed to feel like you weren’t completely regretting what just happened. “Right.” You sidestep him to reach for some more paper towels, hands trying their best to clean it up only to end up smearing it even more.

Hoseok’s hand reaches out. “May I?” Sighing you nod, discarding the ruined towels in the bin.

On second thought, you should have said no and struggled through the clean up on your own. The soft press of his digits against your back ignites your skin and pulls you back to the not so distant events in your mind. Your sharp breath intakes at each touch from his body further aids Hoseok in building back his confidence.

You definitely liked him, or at least your body did. He thinks and he would definitely not mind a repeat, preferably somewhere where he did not need to worry about time or intruders and where he could knead your ass to his heart’s content.

Once done, you step away, this time thoroughly cleaned and ready to leave. You turn back to follow your previous path, hand clenched around the key refusing to unlock the door as you await another interjection from his part. To unlock the door means this is finally over and as much as you might not believe this to be your best decision, you still want to bask in the awkward sweetness of the aftermath, just for a few more seconds. But Hoseok stays silent this time.

Your hand weights down on the handle, pushing it towards you. Sighing, you are brought back to reality as you stare at the bypassers outside of the toilet room. Your hand releases the handle, walking out and heading towards the changing rooms.

Your steps are slow, ready to halt upon his request. Yet, all your ears can hear is the shuffling of hurried feet and the sound of other classes taking place. Soon enough, you’re walking slow out of dejection rather than apprehension.

“Hey! Y/N!” Your skin shivers at the timbre of the familiar voice and you walk faster to stop a bit further away. You don’t want him to think that you were waiting for him.

Your body whips around, using the little resolve you have left to mask your delight at the sight of him.

“I’ll see you next week,” it comes out as a blend between a question and an affirmation and you can see in his eyes that he needs you to clarify the nature of his statement for him. To let him know there could in fact be more than today.

“I’ll see you next week, Hoseok.” You smile sheepishly as you turn around to scurry towards your intended destination, squealing into the palms of your hands. Hands that had touched him and had been caressed by him. Ultimately, hands that couldn’t wait to knead him the way he kneaded you.

Posted: July 16 2020

a/n: feel free to share any feedback, it’s always deeply appreciated 🥺

380 notes · View notes

charincharge · 4 years

Text

Cruel Summer, Part 24

cruel summer masterlist

AN: We’re almost at the end of this thing. One more chapter and an epilogue. Thank you all for sticking with me and this story. You make me feel like a Queen. Ok, without further ado...

All Rowan wanted was one Aelin-free day to wallow. He even called in sick for the first time in his entire gods damned life to accomplish it, but no – it seems the universe has other plans for him. He can’t escape her. Even on his day off, she manages to appear and twist the knife into his stomach a little further.

The door slams too loudly beneath his touch as he exits his truck, and Manon has the good sense not to ask him if he’s okay. He’s obviously not okay. And he knows when he’s been played. Manon specifically asked him to come inside to help with a drunk girl, not telling him said drunk girl was Aelin.

His chest tightens when he thinks about the way she backed into him to avoid that smarmy creep pawing at her, leaning into him, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She belongs at his side. He knows she does. If only Aelin would admit that, too. If only she saw him as a viable option. A real partner.

Manon flashes him an apologetic smile, but Rowan simply shakes his head as his roommate and her girlfriend disappear behind her bedroom door.

Rowan should get to bed, too, but he slept all day in a depressed fit, and after seeing Aelin, he’s feeling far too agitated to sleep.

Instead, he pulls out his camera and hooks it up to his computer. He’d planned to do this earlier in the day, but instead of being productive during his day off, he slept the pain away. Rowan drums his fingers against his thigh as he waits for the machinery to connect. The photos upload quicker than he thought, and before he knows it, he’s scrolling through hundreds of photos. All of Aelin.

His front tooth nearly pierces the skin of his lip as he bites down onto it, as if by keeping his mouth shut he can hold back the onslaught of emotions threatening to bubble up from his tightened chest. He wishes he had a drink. He’s too sober for this.

Rowan scrolls through, wondering which photo he should edit first. He’s overwhelmed by each photo as is passes his vision. She’s so stunning. Her turquoise eyes pierce through the screen, and the spun gold of her hair glimmers in molten waves in each photo, no matter the lighting or photo composition. There’s a reason he couldn’t stop photographing her, and it’s because the camera loves her. He sighs loudly. He knows that’s not the only thing that loves her.

His heart thuds painfully against his ribs as he stops his scrolling. Because nestled in the swaths of photos of her, is a single photo of the two of them. It’s the only one they ever took. The entire summer. The only proof that they were actually together. That their relationship ever existed.

He’s hesitant to click on it, but he can’t stop himself. The enlarged picture hits him like a punch to the stomach. He remembers the night so clearly, wanting to cheer Aelin up and taking the first steps to have her reconcile with her family. He remembers how beautiful she looked in the buttery twilight with the beginnings of the setting sun behind her, reflecting the metallic ring around her dilated pupil. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, couldn’t resist leaning his face against the smooth skin of her shoulder, breathing in her floral scent and snapping a picture.

He’s knocked over by the way her eyes light up as they look at him, her smile nearly blinding. Joy oozes off the photo, jumping out of the screen, and despite his mood, Rowan can’t help loosen the tooth that pierces his bottom lip, release his feelings and smile. They did exist, and he’s never been more grateful for the tangible evidence. He wants to print this photo and frame it, no matter what happens in the future. He wants to remember them just like this. Wind-tousled and blissfully happy, attached at the hip and in disbelief that they could ever feel this kind of contentment with another person.

He works for an hour, adjusting the color levels and editing the photo. There’s something soothing about returning to the methodical process of changing the lighting and adjusting exposure, getting rid of shadows, until all that remains is a perfect shot of the two of them. By the time he’s finished, he feels somewhat better.

Rowan pauses, admiring his handiwork, impressed at how quickly his editing skills came back to him. He forgot how natural it is for him to sit at a computer. It’s his second language. Before he has time to second guess himself, Rowan opens up an email.

mailto: aelin.ashryver

sender: rwhitethorn

subject: (no subject)

I emptied my photo card and remembered you wanted this one. I have… a lot more of you if you want them. Just let me know.

He attaches the photo and immediately clicks send. He doesn’t want to reread what he said. He’s sure he sounds like an idiot, and he’s positive she doesn’t want the photo anymore, but he can’t not send it to her. He needs her to see it. To have that concrete proof, too. To remember them.

A sudden wave of exhaustion crashes over Rowan, and he glances at the clock. 4am. He groans. His alarm is going to go off far too soon. And he absolutely can’t call in sick again. He closes the laptop and places it next to him, and he’s asleep before he even has time to change out of his clothes.

His dreams are vivid, a whorl of colors and pictures and feelings. Unsurprisingly, everything is Aelin. He sees her on that dance floor, dark eyes pulling him in, her clothes like a second skin over her curves. He imagines himself with her, hips pressed together, arms tangled and pulling each other close enough to breathe the other in while the music pounds overhead. Their lips are like magnets, meeting again and again, without a care in the world for the busy club around them, not caring who sees or watches as her lipstick smudges all over his face. Her phantom hands caress his face, and he feels hot all over.

Rowan wakes in a tangle of his sheets, sweaty and breathless. He’s shocked to see he’s up before his alarm has gone off, a rarity, especially given how late he went to bed, but his adrenaline pulses through him, ensuring he’s solidly awake. He groans and opens his eyes, looking around his room, immediately snagging his sights on his closed laptop. He’s sure Aelin hasn’t emailed him back. It’s barely been four hours. She’s surely still sleeping off her hangover, but that doesn’t stop himself from opening the computer and checking.

His heart jumps when he sees an email waiting with the word Ashryver. But upon a second glance, it’s an email from a different Ashryver than he was expecting. His stomach knots as he reads the email. This can’t be good.

mailto: rowanwhitethorn

sender: evalinashryver

subject: Urgent – Meeting Today at 2PM

Rowan,

Apologies for the late notice, but your presence is requested for a one-on-one meeting today to discuss your employment. A work matter has been brought to our attention that requires immediate discussion. Your manager has been informed that you are to report to our home office for your lunch break at 2PM today.

Best,

Evalin Ashryver

Rowan reads the email three times, his pulse racing faster each time he rereads. An email from Aelin’s mom, wanting to discuss a work matter that requires immediate discussion? That can only mean one thing – the Ashryvers somehow know about his relationship with Aelin, and now with only four fucking days left of his employment, he’s going to be fired. As if the Ashryvers needed another reason to dislike him.

He groans loudly and lets his head fall to his keyboard in frustration. This is the last thing he needs. He’s already feeling awful. He doesn’t feel like defending his love life to the parents of the girl who just brutally discarded him. At least he can tell them in all honestly that things are over.

Rowan tries to take his time in the shower, hoping it’ll calm him down, but the warm water just makes him feel overheated in his own skin. He can’t bring himself to stand in the shower any longer, starting to feel ill. He brushes his wet hair and puts on his cleanest uniform before heading out of the house. The least he can do is look composed.

He arrives at the park a full thirty minutes before his shift. He walks into the employee room to make himself a cup of coffee; he’s going to need some extra caffeine today.

Lorcan and Elide are already in the kitchen, completely wrapped up in each other. Rowan laughs softly at them, the picture of perfect summer love – Lorcan’s hands in Elide’s back pockets, and Elide tugging at Lorcan’s neckline, impatiently trying to bring his lips down to her level.

The pair jumps apart quickly at the sound of Rowan’s laugh, but he waves them off, insisting he doesn’t mind. The smile drops off his face when Lorcan turns to him with a serious expression, though, reminding him of why he’s at the park so early, and what awaits him later today.

“You don’t know what she wants to talk about, do you?” Rowan ventures to ask, and Lorcan shakes his head.

“Sorry, man.”

Elide looks confused, and Rowan fills her in on the ominous email he received this morning. Elide’s brow furrows, trying to come up with an alternate reason that Evalin Ashryver would need to talk to him, but even the optimistic girl is at a loss.

Lorcan slaps his shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “It’ll be okay.”

Rowan isn’t as confident.

Minutes feel like hours as Rowan spirals into dread mode. He spends the morning letting people onto the swings, but nothing is distracting enough to keep his mind off the impending conversation about his employment. Despite Rowan’s decision to move back to Wendlyn at the end of the moth, he’s calculated his move down to the last dollar and really needs this final paycheck. It’s not like he’s been able to save this summer. He’s barely made minimum wage. He spends the morning frowning away, lost in a maelstrom of possible outcomes of this conversation – each one worse than the last.

When 1:45 rolls around, Lorcan pulls Rowan off his shift and tells him to head to the Ashryvers’.

The sinking feeling returns to Rowan’s stomach when he checks his phone and sees that on top of everything, Aelin hasn’t replied to his email.

Instead of walking, Rowan gets into his truck and drives to the Ashryver Estate. He doesn’t want to risk getting sweaty and gross walking along the beach, and he definitely wants to be prompt.

For the first time all summer, Rowan parks at the head of the Ashryvers’ driveway. He takes in the large house, which suddenly looks scarier than ever. It’s funny. He’s been in this house about a hundred times since May, but it’s still as imposing as ever.

On the front stoop, Rowan pokes his toe at a loose stone and shoves his hands in his pockets. He doesn’t know what awaits him on the other side of that door, but he knows it’s not good. Sweat beads down the back of his thick uniform polo under the hot August sun overhead. He tugs at his collar, trying to give himself some room to breathe. But he’s finding it quite difficult. He’s been on the other side of this door plenty, but he can’t help but think of all the times he used Aelin’s window as his entrance. If her parents know about that... His stomach clenches with nausea. He’s kept Aelin’s secret, yes, but he’s been so incredibly disrespectful to her parents. He wasn’t brought up this way. His mom would absolutely smack him if she knew this was how he conducted himself this summer. He juts his chin out, ready for his chastising. He knows he deserves it. Rowan lifts his hand out of his pocket and hovers it over the thick wood paneling of their front door. If he waits any longer to knock, he’ll be late, and he knows arriving late to this meeting is the absolute worst thing he could do to Evalin Ashryver. Well, besides sleeping with her heiress daughter and sullying her good name. Rowan rubs his hand along his face. He is so utterly fucked. He can’t wait any longer. Rowan knocks steadily in three even raps. The door swings open, and Rowan swallows nervously as Aelin comes into view, looking worse for wear. He was expecting Evalin to answer the door, and Rowan feels even more off-balance at this twist. He doesn’t know why he didn’t expect Aelin. She looks even more surprised to see him, and Rowan doesn’t think he’s ever seen her so out of sorts.

She tugs at her tangled, unbrushed hair, which is falling out of her low ponytail, swollen eyes filled with confusion. Remnants of eyeliner and mascara darken her bottom lash, making her bloodshot eyes even more prominent, and her skin is pale and clammy. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was very, very sick. He watches as Aelin pulls her robe closed tighter, hiding her thin tank top and shorts from his view. “Rowan?” She croaks, her voice barely a whisper between them, echoing in the marble foyer. “What are you doing here?”

Rowan looks down and takes note of her large furry slippers. He can’t help but smile.

“Those are cute,” he says, pointing at her feet, and Aelin’s nose scrunches up as she tries to hide one slipper behind the other.

She wipes at the dark circles under her eyes, and Rowan recognizes that she’s feeling self-conscious about the way she looks. Not that she should. Even hung over and disheveled, Aelin is the most beautiful person he’s ever seen in his life. He’s about to reassure her when Dorian ambles out of the kitchen, a foil wrapped food in hand.

“What’s up?” he asks, and Rowan shrugs tersely as Dorian wraps his arm around Aelin’s shoulders. Aelin looks up at Dorian, eyes wide and unblinking, clearly still out of sorts. “Your burrito is ready,” Dorian says in a soft aside, nudging Aelin in the ribs. She licks her chapped lips and gives him a small smile.

“Do you want some lunch?” Aelin asks Rowan, her words filled with nerves. Rowan is anxious to talk to Aelin, of course, but he remembers that he’s not here to chat with her and steadies himself as he shakes his head. Rowan thinks she looks disappointed, but he can’t be quite sure.

“I’m actually here for a meeting. With your mom,” he clarifies. “Is she around?”

Aelin’s mouth drops into a soft circle as she begins to ask why. He’s about to answer her and maybe ask for any intel or advice when Evalin appears, looking even more austere than usual in a dark blue dress, her hair neatly pinned back in a perfectly coiffed chignon and a strand of pearls around her neck. Her heels click clack along the marble floor until she reaches Rowan. She greets him with a warm hug and a wide smile. “Rowan. Right on time.” She squeezes his arm lightly. “Let’s chat in my office, okay?” she says firmly, and Rowan has no choice but to nod. Aelin clearly doesn’t know what’s going on and looks as confused as ever. “Mom?” “Aelin,” Evalin chides. “When you finish your …” she pauses dramatically and nods at the foil in Dorian’s hands. “…breakfast, can you please go take a shower? I can still smell the vodka coming off your skin.” “But...” Evalin’s glare silences her daughter immediately, but it doesn’t wipe the look of confusion from her questioning face as she nods. Satisfied, Evalin leads Rowan into her office. Rowan remembers the room well from his tour with Aelin all those weeks ago, but it somehow seems even more daunting now. It’s clear the room is rarely used, despite the armchair by the window and the large mahogany desk at the center of the room. Rowan looks up and up and up. The built-in bookcases threaten to swallow him hole, with bindings going up to the ceiling. Evalin trails slowly to the desk and leans against the edge, rather than sitting in the large high-backed chair behind it. She points to a smaller chair for Rowan to sit in, and he takes his place immediately. Evalin’s face is tight with a forced smile, and he's sure any second now he’s going to receive a verbal lashing.

“So,” she begins, and Rowan sits up straighter. “It’s my understanding that your last day at the park is on Saturday,” Evalin says, and Rowan nods, his throat too tight to verbally respond. The room creaks and settles, the dark wooden floors also seemingly holding its breath to see what Evalin has to say.

Evalin pauses and holds a single finger up. Rowan watches with interest as she walks to the far bookcase and pushes slightly. The wall cracks open, and Rowan remembers the number of secret passageways and hallways Aelin led him through in their tour. So, he’s not entirely surprised to see Aelin and Dorian, crouching in the entryway of the hidden tunnel.

“Children,” Evalin scolds, and Aelin and Dorian are quick to scramble to their feet.

“Mom…” Aelin peers over her shoulder, trying to get a better look at where Rowan sits, but Evalin isn’t having any of it.

“Rowan and I are in a private meeting right now,” she says. Aelin looks like she wants to object, but Evalin pays her no mind. “No one likes a snoop.” She ushers them into the study and leads them toward the door without a word.

“I swear, she has super-sonic hearing,” Dorian mumbles, and Evalin smiles.

“I do,” she says, causing Dorian to blush. Rowan doesn’t think he’s ever seen him so flustered. It would be amusing if he weren’t sure he was about to be on the receiving end of Evalin’s wrath himself.

“Don’t let me catch you back there again,” she says sternly, and Dorian and Aelin reply with yes ma’ams in unison. Aelin looks over her shoulder one last time at Rowan before departing, and Rowan wants nothing more than to chase after her, but he’s stuck in his chair.

Evalin returns to her spot, leaning against the desk and crosses her arms. “Now. Where were we?” Rowan waits in silence. “Oh yes. Your employment coming to an end.”

Rowan’s stomach sinks. He’s about to get fired. He feels like he has to speak up, defend himself. But he’s not exactly sure what to say. So, he just babbles.

“Mrs. Ashryver, Evalin, ma’am…” He tugs at his hair, trying to work out his nerves, and barrels forward. “I’m so sorry if I’ve disrespected you or your family. It wasn’t my intention at all, but I would really love to finish out the week at Playland. I know I’ve overstepped my bounds, but I promise it won’t happen again. Ever.”

Evalin quirks her eyebrow at him and nods succinctly. “I understand why you would think you overstepped your bounds,” she says. “But, you didn’t.”

Rowan pauses, holding his breath. “I didn’t?”

“No. In fact, I was discussing it with Rhoe, and we both very much appreciate your initiative.”

Rowan lifts an eyebrow in confusion. “You do?”

Evalin laughs warmly, her smile reminding him so much of Aelin suddenly as her turquoise eyes crinkle with happiness. “Yes.” She crosses her ankles and leans forward.

Rowan pauses again and crosses his arms. “I think I’m confused,” Rowan finally admits, and Evalin laughs even more.

“I can see that.”

“So I’m not getting fired?” Rowan asks hesitantly, and then it’s Evalin’s turn to look confused.

“Fired? What on earth for?” She shakes her head. “No, of course not.”

His brow furrows. “So, what are we talking about?”

“Are you still interested in pursuing a career in tech?” Rowan nods slightly, his thoughts bouncing around and wondering what the hell Evalin actually wants to talk about. If not Aelin… “I have an opportunity for you.”

Evalin pulls out a packet of papers from behind her on the desk and hands it to Rowan. He looks over the printout and then looks back up at Evalin, who is still smiling at him.

“I brought your app idea to the Playland board, and they were very impressed. They’re going to start a development team. It was a smart idea,” she chuckles. “In fact, I’m annoyed with myself that I didn’t think of it first.” He looks over the papers in his hand again. It’s the breakdown of the app he pitched over dinner. He can’t believe it. Evalin clears her throat. “I don’t know what your employment plans are beyond Sunday, but we’d love for you to join the team.”

Rowan’s mouth drops. He’s actually speechless. Of all the things to he could talk about with Evalin Ashryver, this didn’t even make it to the bottom of the list. Never in his wildest dreams did he think she would take his idea seriously, much less pitch it to the board and then offer him a job there. His stomach churns slightly.

“The only catch is—” Rowan holds his breath as he wonders what the strings attached to this offer are. “The job starts in two weeks, and it would be in our offices in Adarlan.”

Rowan exhales, an onslaught of feelings attacking him. He can’t process what she’s just said.

“Adarlan….”

Evalin nods. “I understand that it would be a significant move, but we’d help with the relocation costs, and—”

Rowan stops her, thinking about showing up in Adarlan in two weeks, the place where Aelin lives. An awful thought crosses his mind.

“You’re not just offering this to me because I’m… friends with Aelin, are you?” he asks nervously. “I don’t want to take a job I haven’t earned.”

Evalin frowns and pats at her pearls. “Rowan, you have more than earned your spot on this team. It was your idea. But if it makes you more comfortable, you can interview with the head of the team. He’s meeting with a few other candidates in the next few days. I’ll tell him to add you to the list.”

Rowan nods. “I’d like that.”

“Excellent,” Evalin claps her hands happily. “Look out for an email from Malakai or his assistant to schedule the interview for this week. In the meantime, please send me your resume, so I can forward it along.” She pauses and looks at Rowan seriously. “Now, would you care to tell me why you thought you were being fired?”

Rowan coughs, and he can fill blood filling his cheeks with embarrassment. “Not particularly,” he mumbles.

Evalin chuckles again and sighs loudly. “I’m sorry if my email was scary,” she apologizes. “I didn’t want to give away the surprise, but now that I think about the wording, I may have misled you.”

“It may have taken a few years off my life,” Rowan says, causing Evalin to burst into laughter. “But thank you,” he continues, “I’m incredibly grateful for this opportunity.”

The study door cracks open and Rhoe pokes his head in. “Ah, did I miss it?” he asks, entering and clicking the door shut behind him. Evalin rolls her eyes at her husband.

“You did.” She looks at her watch and then back at him. “I told you. 2pm, promptly.”

“I got distracted by burritos,” Rhoe admits, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Who knew Dorian was such a good chef?” He pauses and looks at Rowan. “So, did the Ashryvers recruit a new coder?”

“Not officially,” Evalin answers for him. “Rowan, ever the humble and upstanding young man, has insisted upon an interview.”

“Ah, of course,” Rhoe says with a soft smile. “I told you he wouldn’t just accept a job offer.”

Evalin’s eyes twinkle at her husband. “Yes, I know. You know everything, darling.”

She kisses him lightly on his cheek before looking back at Rowan.

“Alright, well, I have other meetings to attend to, sadly,” Evalin says, “But I look forward to hearing about your interview.” She shakes Rowan’s hand firmly and heads out of the study. Rowan starts to follow her, but Rhoe holds him back for a second.

“I just wanted to thank you,” Rhoe says, and Rowan is immediately caught off-guard.

“For what, sir?”

“Don’t look so shellshocked, Rowan,” he says with a soft laugh. “We’ve loved getting to know you this summer. Having you around has been a treat. I know it must be hard to be away from your own parents, on the other side of the country. But, I would be remiss if I didn’t tell you how proud of yourself you should be. This app was a phenomenal idea. You’ve proven yourself to be intelligent, driven and…” Rowan can feel heat rising to his cheeks at Rhoe’s praise. He watches carefully as Rhoe pauses and lowers his voice, looking around conspiratorially. “And… don’t think I don’t know who’s kept that smile on my daughter’s face all summer.”

Rowan’s heart thumps in his chest. Rhoe knows. Oh god. Rhoe knows.

“I…uh…what?” Rowan stutters, unsure of how to respond. Luckily, Rhoe laughs and slaps a hand onto Rowan’s shoulder.

“Don’t look so petrified, son. I’m happy for you both.” Rhoe looks sincere, but Rowan’s stomach clenches at an awful thought.

“That’s not why you offered me this job, is it?” Rowan asks softly. He has to know. He won’t take it, won’t even interview for it if they’re offering it to him because of his relationship with Aelin.

“No no no,” Rhoe assures him. “My wife is not the most observant human on the planet. She has no clue. You and Aelin can tell her whenever you’re ready.”

Rowan rubs his hand against the back of his neck, needing something to do. “Well.” He coughs lightly. “I don’t think there’s anything to tell anymore.”

“That’s a shame,” Rhoe says, his voice sad but a small smile making an appearance on his face. Rowan wonders what Rhoe knows that he doesn’t. But he’s too overwhelmed to think about that just yet.

“Thank you for this opportunity,” Rowan says again, and he means it.

Rhoe shrugs him off. “I did nothing. This was all Evalin,” he says with a smile. “And, Rowan? You created this opportunity all yourself.”

Rowan nods and smiles stiffly as Rhoe leads him back out to the foyer.

A freshly showered Aelin sits on the stairs, finishing her final bite of burrito, and she stands quickly upon seeing her dad and Rowan. Rhoe pats her head as he passes by, giving Rowan a sly smile.

“So,” she says, and Rowan replies with the same sentiment. “Are you going to tell me what that was all about?” she asks.

Rowan wants to tell her. He really does. But he’s too overwhelmed with possibilities at the moment. He doesn’t want to tell her anything that isn’t real. He can’t risk seeing her reaction to this news. Not when it could possibly break him.

“It was nothing,” Rowan says, and Aelin’s brow furrows, knowing he’s lying to her. I mean, he had a legit meeting with her parents. And no one has told her a thing. He knows she’s dying for information, but he just can’t tell her anything yet. “Where’s Dorian?” he asks, trying to change the topic.

“Showering,” she says, flicking her eyes upwards to the ceiling. “Do you want a burrito? They’re amazing…” she asks, but Rowan shakes his head.

“I should get back to work,” he says, looking at the time. He can’t believe how long they were in there talking.

“Right.” Aelin sighs and follows him to the door. “Hey, Rowan?” she says, stopping Rowan before he reaches for the door handle. “Thanks for last night,” she says. “For rescuing me.” He nods stiffly. “I know that wasn’t your idea of a good night.” He shakes his head, laughing softly. No it wasn’t. “And Rowan? The picture? Thank you for sending it,” she says quietly. “I love it.”

Rowan smiles. “I do, too.”

Aelin bites her lip and twirls her long, wet hair around her fist. “You’re really not going to tell me what my parents talked to you about?”

“Nope.”

“You’re torturing me on purpose,” she says, and Rowan laughs.

“Maybe.”

He averts his eyes, not wanting to look at her, knowing he could break at any second. But Aelin seems to accept his reticence.

Aelin sighs. “I deserve that.”

Rowan wants nothing more than to talk with her and tell her everything, ask what he should do, what it would mean for them, but he knows he needs to think about this without her input.

“Ok, I really need to leave or I’m going to be late,” he says, and Aelin gasps.

“Right! Of course. Go.”

Rowan leans in to her hug her, on autopilot, without even thinking about it. And he can feel Aelin’s sharp inhale of breath as he wraps his arms around her shoulders and mindlessly brushes his lips against the top of her head.

“Sorry…” he says, pulling back quickly.

“It’s fine,” she chokes out, and Rowan flees the premises before she can say anything else.

By the time he gets back to work, Rowan’s imagination has run off without him. He can’t help but think of all the ways his life would change if he were to take this job in Adarlan. Would he be able to pursue Aelin, even if he was still working for her mother? Would they have to tell her mom? Clearly her dad knows, but for some reason, Rowan thinks he’s more amiable to the idea of Rowan than Evalin is. Or, was this whole job opportunity a ruse to get him to be a more acceptable partner for Aelin, one they wouldn’t be ashamed of? Doubts and confusion plague his thoughts as he rips tickets.

When Rowan receives the email from Malakai’s assistant later that night, asking to interview the following afternoon, Rowan is more unsure than before.

So, Rowan does what he should have done as soon as Aelin ended things with him, he calls his mom to tell her everything.

Dora wakes from an early evening nap to answer his call, and Rowan immediately feels guilty, but Dora is more than happy to talk to her son. He explains his situation to her, getting more and more tied up in his emotions as he goes, and when he finishes, Dora is silent on the other line.

“Mom?” he asks, and Dora sighs loudly.

“My sweet boy,” she clucks. “You know I would love nothing more than to have you back home with me, but… you need to do this.” She pauses. “No matter what happens with Aelin, this is the beginning of your career. With an app you thought of yourself and are going to get made. Rhoe was right. You should be very proud of yourself. I know I’m proud of you.”

“Doesn’t it feel like cheating though?” Rowan asks. “Like if I hadn’t been seeing Aelin, I never would have gotten this chance, and I’d be moving home with you.”

“Baby,” she laughs. “That isn’t cheating. It’s called networking. And yes, you were in the right place at the right time, but it doesn’t make you any less deserving of this. You deserve this so much.”

Rowan sighs. “But…what if Aelin gets upset that I followed her back to her hometown. I’ll feel like a crazy pathetic stalker.”

“Fuck what Aelin thinks.”

“Mom!” he says with a laugh. He’s never heard her swear so casually before.

“This is about you. And she should support you, even if she doesn’t want to date you.”

Rowan hesitantly agrees. It’s not like Aelin works for her parents. In fact, she’s told him many times she never wants to, and hates going into the Ashryver offices. And Adarlan is a big city. The chances of him accidentally running into her are slim.

Feeling slightly appeased, Rowan thanks his mom and preps for his interview. His feelings for Aelin aside, he wants this. He just hopes he can start believing he deserves it, too.

~*~*~*~

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#rowaelin #aelin x rowan #cruel summer au #amusement park au #charincharge writes

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serendipitywrites · 4 years

Text

Deceptions and Daisies (4)(m)

words 4.5k this chapter is pure smut and angst 🤡 (p.s. sorry this took so long, life has been crazy lately and I had some writers block I had to work through. Anyways, hope you enjoy!)

chapters (one, two, three )

After that last ‘fight’ you and Wooyoung had, you’ve been spending a lot of time with San.

he’s been stopping by after classes just to say hi, or even bringing your favorite snacks, since he, unfortunately, knows that you tend to forget to eat when you’re stressed. Sometimes he doesn’t really need a reason, he just likes to just relax with you, talking about everything and yet nothing.

He’s come to learn a lot about you in the past few weeks and you’re always amazed at how well he can read you and your emotions. You’ve been feeling so bare and open around him, and surprisingly it’s been a welcoming feeling, it’s been nice to just be… well, yourself again. It might be too soon, but he feels like one of your closest friends already. Honestly, San has even been around more than Wooyoung lately.

Your boyfriend would often visit his ‘ex’ and ‘just a dance friend’ then rather see you, it felt like.

although, after you had confronted Wooyoung, you feel like he has been putting in at least a little more effort for you both. It may seem pathetic to some, but you weren’t ready to give up, not after eight months of being happy and loving him. You admit you were feeling close to giving up, but after talking things over for hours and hours, you decided to give him another chance. Obviously, not everything was perfect and you weren’t expecting that, but the ups and downs are always what made you both stronger together, at least you feel that way.

‘Woo.. you’re so different lately. Are you really here with me? even when we’re together lately, I just feel so… alone’ insecurity laces your voice.

He sits across from you on the couch, letting your words sink in.

He looks at you and instead of denying it this time, he just puts his head in his hands and exhales.

He looks up after a few seconds, looking uneased.

‘I don’t feel like myself lately.. and I guess I was just hoping you didn’t notice’ he confesses.

‘Really? because It’s all I notice. I thought we didn’t keep things from each other, Woo’ you say surprised, mumbling the last words softly.

And for the first time in a while, he isn’t looking defensive over your honesty.

‘y/n, I haven’t been.. completely honest with you.’ he sounds anxious and you stare at him nervously, waiting.

‘I’ve been seeing Hana after work sometimes.. when I don’t come here’ he sounds ashamed, and in your current state of mind, he should be ashamed. You didn’t fall in love with this Wooyoung, the one who lies.

‘Why? Why are you seeing her, Woo? No more lies or we’re done, I swear. I can’t keep doing this’ you try your best to sound confident and not let your hurt show.

He looks at you with guilt and swallows hard ‘I swear we aren’t doing anything, not like that. We’ve just been talking and I’m helping her to dance’ he says like he hopes to convince you.

‘Then why? And why do you look so guilty?’ you implore.

‘...She said she still loves me’ he confesses.

Your heart sinks. You weren’t an idiot, you could tell there was something deeper left between them, but it still really fucking hurts.

‘And do you love her?’ you ask weakly.

‘I love you’ he replies quickly and with certainty.

‘That’s not what I asked, woo’ you feel your eyes start to water and you try desperately to keep him from noticing.

He stares at you so softly yet cautiously ‘y/n, listen to me. What I had with her.. It wasn’t ever really as genuine as I thought at the time. If I’m honest, I think we only got together because she was lonely. Besides that, she is my past and you are my now. I want this, I want you, and I want us.. For a long time, if you’ll still have me’ he meets your eyes.

Your chest is aching.

even if his words are reassuring, you know you can’t just keep forgiving him so easily.

‘I want us too, but I can’t keep going on like this. I can’t pretend it doesn’t hurt anymore when you are with her more than me. I’m not dumb, Woo. I knew you were with her and I just... I can’t. This isn’t me, i’m not some cliche jealous girlfriend’ you trail off in a frustrated tone, feeling some tears drop from your eyes and meeting your cheeks. This isn’t how the talk was supposed to go, but is anything ever easy lately?

He pulls you into his arms and rests his head in the crook of your neck. ‘Just one more chance, I’ll do better. I’ll be the boyfriend you deserve. I’ll be good for you.’ you feel yourself tremble in his hold. his voice heavy with emotion, he breathes hotly onto your neck and presses a wet and gentle kiss against you ‘I love you, y/n’ you sigh and try to hide a slight sniffle ‘I love you too.. Please don’t make me regret this’

San tosses a french fry in your direction, it pulling you from your thoughts.

He sits at the edge of your bed with a small fast food bag, staring at you expectedly.

You can tell he just got out of class by the way his hair is slicked back and his cheeks are still a bit flushed. He's dressed in a loose tank top, which must be some of his workout clothes. He must have come by straight after teaching and that thought makes you all tender for some reason. It’s just that you know that San likes to go straight home after work or school, but instead, he went and got you some food and chose to spend time with you. It may seem little, but it means a lot to you. It’s your day off from work and even if you told him to just head home and relax, having him here feels really nice. You’ve spent the day in your pajama shorts and a baggy shirt and if it was any other friend then you’d feel nervous and under-dressed, but you know that San doesn’t care.

‘If you don’t eat your fries, then I will’ he shoves some fries in his mouth messily, being an absolute goof.

You toss the fry back at him and it hits his chest, he looks at you offended. ‘Shush. Now where’s our ketchup?’ you tease him and he smiles, his dimple showing.

He tosses you the bag softly. ‘Yes, princess, and I got your extra ketchup too. You know, I get some weird looks for taking over 25 ketchup packets, so you owe me.’

You scoot towards him and hug his back ‘you’re the best, Sannie, you know that?’ you say in a sing-songy voice. You suddenly feel your breasts rub against his back through your thin shirt and you stiffen, feeling embarrassed. You’re just hoping that he didn’t notice. (He’s just thankful you can’t see the blush on his face) He nudges you off of him and you fall back gently on your pillow ‘I mean something I actually want’

you poke his back with your socked foot in offense ‘Hey! I give good hugs. you’re sweaty anyways, so fine, whatever’ he laughs at your sassy behavior. ‘Come sit with me?’ you pat the pillow next to you, he obliges.

he rests his head against your headboard and shuffles a bit to get comfortable.

'so..' he tilts his head at you 'is Wooyoung coming over later?'

you nod a bit shyly 'yeah, he has tomorrow off so he's going to spend the night.' you smile, getting excited to spend some time with your boyfriend.

He gives you a small smile of acceptance ‘so things are back to normal?’

You shrug ‘I mean.. no? But he’s trying, we’re trying. He hasn’t been seeing… her as much’ you mumble carefully, not wanting to say her name. He understands, he doesn’t like her either.

‘She hasn’t been around the studio either. Maybe Woo finally stopped being an idiot.’

You chuckle ‘that idiot is my boyfriend, but yes, he’s an idiot, my idiot’

You both finish snacking and put on some anime on your laptop, watching it together on your bed. You’re both resting against your headboard when Sans phone goes off. He says to ignore it but then his phone keeps buzzing over and over, he sighs, looking irritated, he runs his hand through his blonde hair ‘I’ll be a minute’ he says sounding agitated and heads out of the room. You figure it must be important, so you pause the anime and wait for him.

After a few minutes, you get bored and grab your phone. You notice a few messages from Wooyoung.

Woo ♥ Can’t wait to see you, sweetheart

Woo ♥ Just a couple more hours ♥

Woo ♥ Want me to bring any food or snacks?

You see that his last message was about ten minutes ago and you decide to reply

sent Just bring yourself ♥ I just got some food, but thank you~! San brought me a burger and fries 🥳!

You get a response pretty quickly after sending that, surprisingly.

Woo ♥ Why is San there? Tonight is supposed to be our night.

Is he actually jealous right now? You aren’t sure what is going through his head so you send him another message

Sent Because he’s my friend? and he wanted to see me. We’re hanging out before you come over then he’s heading home, not that it even matters.

You send back, feeling slightly irritated.

Woo ♥

I just wanted you all to myself tonight, sweetheart. I can’t wait. Besides San has a date tonight, I'm sure he’ll be leaving soon.

You read his message over again, feeling taken aback a bit.

Before you have time to reply to Wooyoung, San makes it back in the room. He puts his phone on your dresser and relaxes against your pillow, he exhales tiredly.

Does he really have a date tonight? And why wouldn’t he tell you?

‘Everything okay?’ you ask him softly.

‘Yeah.. Yeosang just keeps trying to set me up on these blind dates and he doesn’t take no for an answer.’ he sighs.

‘I take it you got roped into one?’ you chuckle, feeling a weird sense of relief that he chose to share this with you.

‘This would be the third actually, He keeps picking his sisters friends and it’s already so awkward when we see him and his sister at parties, I guess she doesn’t take me not wanting to date her friends so easily.’ he looks tired.

You pat his head gently ‘i’m sure when the right person comes along, you’ll know’

He’s laying on your pillow while you have your back rested against the wall, your laptop sits in between you two.

He meets your eyes ‘I think so too’ he smiles, so damn sweetly. God, that dimple makes you so soft and you swear that he knows.

You both settle and watch some more anime, after a few episodes, he decides to head home, looking tired from his long day.

‘Be safe?’ you’re at your door telling him goodbye.

‘Always, princess’ he bows all cheesily.

You punch at his arm for teasing you and he catches your hand. ‘Too slow’ he laughs.

‘Once I get better reflexes, you’re done for’ you respond with far too much sass.

He’s still holding onto your hand when he pulls you in for a hug. The position you’re hugging him in has your arms wrapped around his neck rather than his waist. His arms wrap loosely around your waist.

Somehow, this hug feels… different

Your heart starts to beat faster. Of course, you don’t let yourself think too much into it, you can’t. Besides, this is San, one of Wooyoungs best friends.

He pulls you closer and your face rests against his shoulder.

‘I’m here if you need me. I’ll stop by again soon’

You both pull away from the hug tenderly.

‘Same, but I think you need might need me more, you know, to rescue you from your dates’ you offer and he gives a small laugh.

‘I’ll remember that’ he waves with a grin and heads out, the door clicking behind him.

You’re really glad he came over today.

After waving him off you head to the bathroom to take a shower before Wooyoung heads over, which should be in about an hour. The shower is calming yet exciting. Just knowing that you’re about to see your boyfriend has you so energetic.

After getting out, you put on some vanilla lotion (knowing that it was Wooyoungs favorite) and blow-dry your hair, you dab on some light lip gloss to finish it off. You decided to put on a sheer baggy sweater with a tank top underneath, knowing that you look cute. You kept your sleep shorts on, though. they are your favorite after all.

You pick up your apartment a little before he heads over, and of course feed your fish baby, Clem. Sometime after you finish cleaning you hear a knock on your front door and your heart jumps. Excited but anxious to see your boyfriend.

You pull open the door to see a tired and sweaty looking Wooyoung in front of you, in his hands he holds a small bag and a single red rose. You already feel yourself grinning at his antics.

‘Really? Are you trying to impress me, Mr. Jung?’

He smirks ‘depends, is it working?’

You pull him into your apartment and plant an aggressive kiss on his lips.

After pulling away, his lips try to chase yours again immediately.

‘So impatient already’ you tease.

‘It’s been 3 days, baby. I’m past impatient at this point.’ he whines and puts his bag down.

He hands you the rose and you blush a little bit. ‘Thanks..’ you mutter feeling slightly shy and he just softly kisses your forehead.

He heads towards the couch and pulls you with him. You end up sitting in between his legs as he lays on the couch. His black fluffy hair is parted so you can see his eyes.

‘You’re so pretty, sweetheart.’ he says with affection and you turn your head, feeling shy under his gaze. He notices and you being shy and pulls you down on his lap for a kiss.

You’re truly in awe of this man and god.. you’ve missed this so much. Just the both of you, no drama, no lies, no Hana, just the both of you being with one another.

With you on his lap and kissing him he eventually starts to slowly grind into you, his bulge already thick and hot. You realize soon after that he isn’t wearing anything under his loose joggers.

‘Really, Woo? Nothing under here?’ you ask in surprise and reach your hands down to where the outline of his briefs would be and he just smirks at you and grips your hips.

‘I missed you, sweetheart..’ and you let yourself fall into him, getting lost in lust and feeling some wetness drip out of you.

He puts his hands under your shorts and massages the swell of your ass with his fingers. You shiver at his touch, whining in his hold ‘really? Already?’ not expecting sex this soon.

‘Really’ he replies, voice thick with arousal. Suddenly he moves one of his hands lower and cups you through your panties, feeling the hotness of your cunt radiate. You moan needily and he slips a few fingers inside your panties, running his fingers through your obscene amount of wetness. It takes him far too long to slip the first finger inside of you and when he does, you absolutely crumble against him. You feel yourself soaking his hand and you couldn’t care less. He has two fingers curling against your insides and you want nothing more than to sit on this mans thick dick and have a mind-blowing orgasm.

Of course, he doesn’t let you cum yet, he just teases you until you’re about to scream in frustration. So, you find yourself reaching for his pants with a whine, trying desperately to get them off of him and you hear him chuckle at you. ‘Shut up.. Need you..’ you say deprived.

After a few more minutes of kissing and him having you at the precipice of an orgasm, he has enough and tugs your shorts off aggressively and with zero care where they end up.

He pulls your sweater off and you practically rip his shirt off of him.

‘Please?’ you whimper, him under you, watching you already fall apart for him.

He lowers his joggers just enough for you to get to his dick, moving quickly. You can tell he’s eager to get inside of you.

‘Shit’ he says breathily when his dick rubs against the slit of your wet and puffy cunt.

‘Condom?’ he asks gruffly and it surprises you. You and Wooyoung don’t use condoms… You haven’t since you both got tested, two months into your relationship. Also, you’ve always been on birth control, but you’re far too drunk with lust to think properly or question him so instead of replying you just grab his dick and angle it towards your entrance and drop down on him.

The moan he lets out reverberates through your apartment. He fills you up so perfectly. His thickness stretches you out and before dropping down on him again, you bring your fingers down to where you are both connected and whimper at the feeling. He must get be getting impatient, because he grips your hips hard enough to bruise and thrusts up into you, fully sheathing himself inside of you.

Sweat drips from his forehead as he starts to fuck you harder, and after a few minutes he gets impatient and you get on your knees for him, anxious for him to get back inside of you, your wetness dripping down your thighs. You both sigh in relief when he finally gets back in.

He’s pounding you from behind and you feel his fingertips already bruising your hips, but you honestly love it. The way his cock drags against your insides has you nearly in tears and you whine, pushing back on his cock. He catches your hips mid-thrust and helps guide you back onto him even harder. The meat of his thighs slaps against your ass so deliciously.

He’s grunting behind you, holding onto you possessively ‘yeah? Like my cock, sweetheart?’ he asks huskily. You trail off in response, sounding a pitiful mess, almost in tears ‘yes, the best’ tears fall from your eyes and you can tell from behind you that he’s getting close already. ‘No one can make you feel this good?’ he asks again, his tone dominant and intense, his voice deep. ‘Just you..’ he knows how easily he can make you fall apart. you grip your hands harder onto the couch and you’re having a hard time thinking straight with him fucking you so hard, just then he reaches his hand towards your front and starts to rub circles onto your clit. You are delirious at this point. He knows that you’re close and spreads your legs further, giving him room to abuse your puffy clit. Your peak is coming and you can’t form words at this point ‘only I can make you feel this good’ he whispers in your ear with certainty and determination. You’re not exactly in the right state of mind to wonder why he’s being so dominant, with your orgasm at arms reach. You’re whining and writhing under him, and with a slight pinch to your clit you find yourself cumming on his cock. You practically scream form the strength of it and he moans loudly behind you, fucking into you ruthlessly, his sweat dripping on your back. Just when you think he’s about to cum, he pulls out of you and finishes outside of you. Moaning loudly, he milks himself onto your ass. You feel cold all of a sudden.

Why did he pull out? He is obviously oblivious, basking in his afterglow. But you’re laying there confused.

‘Thanks, baby.. I needed that.’ he grabs some tissues to clean you up and softly flips you on your back on the couch. You see him all flushed and red from fucking you, his hair curled slightly from sweating. ‘...I did too. You didn’t come inside, though’ you say with a pout, feeling almost silly. He smiles at you ‘was my little slut wanting to be filled up?’ you turn to your side and he senses your mood slightly shifting, he comes to sit next to you on the couch. You’re still laying there mostly naked with his cum still dripping down your thighs. ‘I wasn’t even really thinking. I just know it can get messy’ you turn to him ‘well, don’t do that.’ he chuckles at you. ‘Never again, my love.’ after that, you both take a shower together, he rubs your back and kisses at the back of your neck, which has you giggling and pulling away. Being ticklish isn’t exactly romantic, you feel like.

He stays in the bathroom a bit longer and you decide to get your laptop and put on something for you both.

You hear a buzzing coming from the living room, realizing it’s Wooyoungs phone. With things being more at ease now, you feel comfortable grabbing his phone and heading to the bathroom door to knock ‘Woo, your phone is going off. Is your hair dry yet?’

After you say that it buzzes again and by accident you see who it’s from, only seeing a snippet of a couple of messages.

Hana Are you done yet?

Hana I miss you.

The last message is what shocks you the most.

Hana Why won’t you just tell her already??

You drop his phone loudly as he opens the bathroom door, some steam coming out.

‘Hey, what’s wrong?’ he sees you looking pale-faced and stunned. He looks worried.

Ha, worried? You thought.

‘I saw your messages’ You say bluntly. You’ve had enough with being timid and calm about this. You’re done.

He suddenly looks nervous ‘my messages?’ he asks, looking confused.

‘Yes, your messages. Now get the fuck out of my apartment’ you say with conviction.

He just stares at you, his jaw slightly dropped.

‘I don’t think you read what you think you did’ he says calmly.

You scoff at him, looking at him like he thinks you’re some sort of idiot ‘really? Because according to Hana you have something to tell me, what might that be?’

‘Look, y/n, we need to talk but -’

You cut him off in frustration ‘I can’t with these lies. I fucking can’t anymore’ you break off and feel some tears of frustration fall out of your face, which you try hiding from him. ‘did you really come by just to fuck me and then leave me?’

he looks baffled ‘what are you talking about y/n?’

a few seconds pass and he decides to try again.

‘Can we please sit down and talk?’ he asks exasperatedly.

‘Why? So you can tell me that we’re over, or that you did in fact cheat on me?’ ‘I trusted you, I really did. You knew what I went through.’

Instead of responding he just stares at you sadly. He has the audacity to look guilty, to look upset at this.

‘Please leave.. Please. I can’t do this, not tonight, not any more’

‘y/n, please listen to me, just hear me out-’ he tries to explain, at least you think he’s trying to explain, but you can’t bear to even hear his voice right now.

‘Please! Please leave!’ you wail.

‘I can’t leave you like this, I can’t.’ he says desperately, trying to reason with you. His body trying to inch closer to you and you pull back quickly, not wanting to be touched by him.

You let out a wet laugh

‘Sure you can, you’ve done it before.’ you know it was a low blow, but you honestly don’t fucking care how he feels right now.

‘Leave. I’m calling San.’ he scoffs at you, looking far too pissed off, something changes in his aura at the mention of his friend. ‘what a fucking surprise. The moment I leave, you call San, just like clockwork. You know for getting mad at me for spending time with someone else, you look pretty fucking hypocritical.’ he seethes.

Before you can even think it over, your hand meets his cheek. He stares at you in complete shock. ‘I would never do anything to betray you, Wooyoung. I love you so fucking much it drives me insane. I let you in, I never do that. I would never stoop that low. oh, and San? Your best friend? He’s a good person, and fuck you for thinking that he would do something so malicious’ you say then fall onto the floor and break into a sob. Barely able to breathe. this snaps Wooyoung out of his sudden anger and again, he tries to come comfort you and you just beg him to leave. Regretfully, he gives up and leaves, knowing that he can’t do anything to help you, not now. he did this to you, and as much as he wants to comfort you, he doesn’t deserve to. he tells you how much he loves you and how fucking sorry he is before he leaves in shame and remorse. You need time, he’ll try to give that to you. in the meantime, you’re left on the floor, in an absolute mess, having trouble breathing from the strength of your cries.

After catching your breath finally muster some energy to call San, trying to calm down enough to talk.

He answers after a few rings ‘Hey you, I was just thinking of you, I saw the weirdest goldfish at the -’

He stops talking when he realizes that you aren’t responding and he just hears harsh breathing on the other line.

‘You okay, princess?’ you just sob in response and that was all that he needed. ‘I’ll be there in ten minutes. Just breathe. Can you unlock the door for me? That’s all you need to do.’ he says gently. ‘Unlocked already’ you sniffle.

‘Just ten minutes.’ and he hangs up after a minute, promising to hurry.

There was some slight traffic, so San ends up getting there about 20 minutes later. The sight he finds upon entering the apartment is you on the floor, at the edge of your bed, curled into a circle with a bra and your sleeping shorts on, hickeys covering your neck and chest.

He doesn’t even need to ask to know that whatever happened was Wooyoungs fault.

He carries you as softly as possible to your bed, doing his best not to wake you since he knew whatever happened - you’d need the energy later to deal with it.

All he knew, was that he was about to break his friend’s nose.

#ateez angst #ateez smut #ateez x reader #wooyoung angst #wooyoung smut #san angst #kpop angst #kpop smut #kpop reader #ateez fanfiction #ateez #ateez fluff #EVENTUALLY #wooyoung #san #fanfiction #ateez fanfic #🤡#deceptions and daisies

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chaoticneutralwriter · 4 years

Text

Fifth Act: Diligence

Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him - James 1:12

guardian demon!jimin x reader

genre: fluff, romance, supernatural, angst, slow-burn, slice of life, comedy

word count: 12.9k (CHONKY BOIII)

related works: see Masterlist under guardian demon!jimin au

Continuation of Fourth Act: Kindness

A/N: when i said it was long, it’s LONG long. WHEW! The second longest chapter in the series so far?? djfksgh Sorry to keep you waiting for so long ;w; I can’t thank you enough for your patience and unwavering love and interest for this series in spite of it! So here we go, FIFTH ACT YALL HHHH I hope you’ll enjoy!!

@cherryjiminiee @kokobaekkie @breathebangtan @itsadoozie @thatshylatina @chiminieboi @azulamakesmeblank @sectumsemptae @awkwardwookie @aduky @poisonseashell @shortannoyingginger @caramelmac-chiato @sana-b @jiminstinct @beautifulparisiangirl @taelieninvader @ggukjitaejin @xakemi-chiix @vantaenims @atulipandarose @moments-of-melancholy

You don’t want to admit it.

It’s so cliche.

But you’re not gonna burst out singing Meg’s song from Hercules because you’ve passed that stage at least.

What your problem is is that confessing your feelings has proven to be way easier said than done on a multitude of different levels.

Confessing to someone is already a nerve-wracking thing to begin with — you’re basically laying your heart out to a person hoping that they won’t end up completely crushing it — but furthermore, you don’t even know how to go about doing this. For the past days or so since you’ve resolved yourself to Jaehee that you were going to take that leap of faith, your only means of contact with Jimin has been through texting which was both a blessing and a curse.

You’re not gonna lie and say that you didn’t need to do some psyching up first, some mental pep talk through the assurance that you could still hold a decent conversation with him without getting sweaty palms. Of course, when you did manage to pull enough courage to direct the conversation to that topic (and okay maybe a glass of wine helped too), you were strategically swerved.

If there was one thing you wanted to do when you confessed, it was to do it in person. You feel like this is too big of a deal to do through text even if it would’ve helped you with organizing what you wanted to say better. You wanted to be open with yourself and to Jimin and being face to face was the only sure way to get your sincerity across.

So whenever you ask him if there was any chance he could meet up in person, whether it be at a cafe or even just late at night in your room, he would always excuse himself saying that he couldn’t. The reason always being that he was ‘busy’ or had matters he needed to attend to (his words, not yours). You understood at first, though the times when they happened it had put a damper on your confidence, but it soon became too redundant and you grew agitated, even more so because any attempts at a compromise didn’t work either; Jimin never gives a straight enough answer for it.

But then the chats became sparser, never lasting more than a few short exchanges until they just stop altogether.

And when the texts aren’t being returned, your calls are met in the same manner; your only reply is the sound of the dial tone.

Soon your suspicions morphs into anxieties, and though you attempt to reign in your imagination, the longer you don’t hear from him, the more they become rampant. Your mind begins to dredge up memories of things you’d rather forget, playing them out as if to show you how eerily similar this all is, taunting you, reminding you that the last time this had happened your guardian demon had come back on the brink of death.

You swallow, trying to quell the suffocating feeling that comes up but there’s a pressure on your chest that has your breathing shortened. You’re wringing your hands unconsciously, a small attempt at coping with how on edge you’ve become though it proves to not be as effective as you would have liked. How you found that out was because anything and everything irritated you and it showed.

You hate how it seems like you can’t go for a minute without wanting to snap at the next person who so much as look at you — a really bad thing because you work in an industry that requires you to maintain your cool in literally any situation, even the most absurd ones.

And it’s like today was ‘let’s irritate the hell out of Y/N L/N’ and you didn’t get the memo because the clowns are out in full force.

“Well I don’t want to call the help line, that’s gonna take too long.”

Deep breaths, you tell yourself, deep breaths.

“They’re actually pretty fast with finding your transaction history; the only time it would take a while is if you called during the weekend because their time of operation is shortened.” You explain for what felt like the millionth time.

Yet still, the man in front of you continues to scowl as if this is entire thing was your fault.

“But I’m already here, I don’t want to have to go home and come back because that’s a waste of gas.”

“Sir,” You start again, “I can’t refund this item for you at full price if you don’t have the receipt. As I said, I can still put it on a store credit but I will have to deduct thirty percent because I don’t know if you got this on sale or if you used a coupon — that’s just store policy. Or,” The word comes out firmly, “You can find the exact same item and just do a straight exchange for the better of the two.”

He pauses, as if to think it over and you were foolish enough to think that maybe he finally sees reason, but then he opens his mouth.

“But I want my full refund.”

Holy shit if it were not for the laws of this land….

“Then you’re gonna have to call the help line or go find the exact same item and exchange them.”

You’re done, you’re absolutely done and you swear if this man doesn’t walk away doing any of your suggestions right now, you can’t promise that no ones about to get smacked in the face with your scanner. Thankfully, as if the universe has heard you, he begrudgingly takes the box of outdoor fairy lights (you really want to pull your hair out here) and heads off down an aisle. You actually breathe out a sigh of relief, but there goes what little of your patience you have left.

Now you can only pray that the rest of your shift goes by as quickly and as smoothly as possible.

Obviously that was too much to ask for.

You cash out around five people more before a woman approaches your register, holding a box with a picture of a white Instax Mini Polaroid camera on the front. You’re not sure if it’s your gut instincts or because you’re already so annoyed that immediately, you have a bad feeling about this. Regardless however, you muster all the mental strength you possess to suppress the feeling. Lips pulled taut into a wide smile, you greet the customer with an overcompensating amount of friendliness.

“Hello, how are you?”

“Yeah, I want to change the colour of this polaroid camera.”

You force the smile to remain on your face, “Sure no problem! Which colour would you like instead?”

“The pink one.”

You turn around to scan the rows of polaroid boxes hanging on the pegs behind you, picking out of the three colours available for the pink one the woman wanted. Placing it on the counter beside you, you ask nicely, “Can I see the receipt for the camera that you have and the camera as well please?”

She slides the box over to you and you see the receipt poking out of the slit. You take it out, opening the box to check the camera inside and make sure that everything that came with it was still there. Once you confirm that it is, you close it back up and unfold the receipt to match the barcode number on the box to the one that’s printed. Looking over to the pink coloured one, you confirm that the the item code for the white and pink cameras are different which comes as no surprise for you; in order to do this exchange, you would have to return and repurchase so the inventory count would be correct for the store.

A rather simple and painless concept.

“Why can’t I just take this one and give you this one?” The lady questions, annoyance colouring every one of her words as she gestures between the two cameras.

“I know they’re the same camera but since they’re different colours, they have two unique item numbers that differentiate them from each other to help with our inventory. It would only work if they were the exact same camera.”

“But they are!”

“They’re different in colours.”

“You know I’ve shopped here for a long time and I have never had to do this before.” She scowls at you and you refrain from rolling your eyes because clearly she doesn’t shop here enough to know.

“We’e always had this policy ma’am.” You instead answer plainly, the artificial civility in your demeanour already dissipating. When it’s clear that you weren’t going to budge and give in to her intimidation, she rolls her eyes and pulls out her card to insert into the pin pad. The computer system lets out a beep in error, letting you know that the card she used was not the one she purchased the camera with.

“Is that a debit or a credit card?” You ask despite already knowing.

“It’s a debit.”

 “It has to be on the same card you used to pay for the camera.”

“Why can’t I just use any card?” You can already pick up the growing inflection in her voice; it’s a little louder and more aggressive but at this point you’re at your wits end too.

“For security purposes.” You choose to state simply, tired of explaining when you know it won’t work.

“Well, I don’t have that card on me because I thought this was going to be a simple exchange.” She says accusatorially, like of course all of this is your fault and you’re the one who’s being difficult. You try to take a deep breath in discreetly, jaw clenched until you feel it beginning to ache before you reply back to her.

“I can put it on a store credit and you can just use that amount to pay for the camera again.”

Your answer makes her huff, crossing her arms as she says, “Fine.”

Your finger practically punches in the appropriate operating system for the return method, reaching in a side drawer behind your counter to pull out a black card meant for store credits. There’s a slight tremble in your hand from the sheer effort of holding yourself back, feeling like a coiled snake ready to lash out at the littlest prod that you try to keep hidden by speeding up the process, which almost makes you slam the drawer close with more force than necessary.

You confirm the amount and swipe the card through the machine in one quick motion, carelessly dropping the card onto the counter in front of you as you wait for the printout copy of the transaction to come out.

“You didn’t have to throw the card like that.” The woman’s voice snap, piercing through your tunnel vision, so hyper-focused on just getting the task done that for a good minute you actually don’t know what she’s talking about.

“I didn’t throw the card.” You reply evenly.

“Yes, you did. Just now.” She challenges, gesturing to the card and pinning you with a sharp glare.

“It dropped out of my hand.”

“No, you threw it.”

“I didn’t throw the card, it dropped out of my hand.” You reiterate, biting out the words that at this point, there’s no way she wouldn’t notice your own growing disdain. To your surprise, she doesn’t continue to try and fight you on this (though the crossed look on her face remains) so you take it as a sign to proceed on to completing this transaction.

You think you’re in the clear; after swiping the card through, you hand over her new receipt and the camera she wanted but before you can even think about gritting out a very forced ‘have a nice day’, the woman cuts you off with a terse, “I’m speaking to your management about this. What is your name?”

The shock of her words make you freeze in place, your jaw nearly dropping from speechlessness. She can’t be serious right now….

But as the woman continues to wait, clearly impatient yet stubborn enough to wait for your answer, you realize that yes, she really is threatening to take down your name and report you to management over this petty squabble. Your heart is practically beating in your throat now and you feel your face heating up at how angry you’re getting, so much that for a split second the rash thought of outright refusing her came into mind. You wanted so badly to go through with it, loathed the idea of letting her think she had won when it’s her who was wrong in the first place. However, rationality wins over in the end; as sweet as the instant gratification would be, you think it’s not worth losing your job over.

Also, you just want her gone.

So you find yourself swallowing your pride and begrudgingly, you give her your name. To add insult to injury, she asks for a pen to write it down onto her receipt before she finally turns to walk off.

Great, fantastic, just what you needed; being written up because this stupid, entitled bitch decided to mouth off on you for something you have no control over.

You hate how your heart is still pounding, still trembling from your barely restrained emotions that has your nails digging into your palms. With a shaky exhale in an attempt to shake it off, you radio over to your manager that you would like to take your break now.

Thankfully, you’re given the go ahead and you had never made for the break room faster in your life, brisk pace allowing for no chances of getting stopped by any more annoying customers. Once the door shuts behind you do you finally slump back against it, temples throbbing as you take in deep shuddering breaths.

It takes a feel minutes before you feel calm enough, the overwhelming fire simmering down to a calm you can control.

You may have had to swallow your pride in telling a Karen your name and risk being written up, but you’ll be damned if you let it break you down.

The groan comes out unabashedly when you unceremoniously fling yourself across your bed, finally home after what felt like a ten hour shift. You lay there, eyes shut like you’re trying to trick your body that you’re in the state of sleep just so you can obtain some semblance of energy back — it doesn’t work.

Instinctively, your hand reaches to dig into your sling bag to fish out your phone, muscle memory dictating your actions as your thumb slides your lock pattern open and they’re tapping on the messenger icon before you can even think to stop yourself. The window opens with Jimin’s message thread staring right in your face, mocking in the way it has not changed status at all, frozen in its own time.

You don’t know how many times you’ve seen this screen at this point but it still never fails to stir back up all the negative thoughts and emotions that has been plaguing you so vividly as if it was your first time experiencing it. Your teeth are tugging at your lips again, reading and rereading your own sent messages that have gone unanswered, all asking the same thing;

Are you okay?

Where are you?

The details to the questions are no longer of your concerns because each scenario you conjure in your head was worse than the last that they threaten to drive you mad. You don’t think you can bear the weight on your heart much longer as more and more days pass in living this torturous limbo of not knowing.

All you wanted was just an answer, anything that would let you know that he was out there, alive and well.

That alone was enough for you.

You tear your gaze away from the offending sight, tossing your phone carelessly onto your bed somewhere. You sit back up just in time to hear the front door unlock and open, signalling for Jaehee’s arrival home.

You exit your room to greet her, wanting to take your mind off of things if only for a short while.

“Hey, where’d you run off to all day?” You ask, helping Jaehee with a couple of grocery bags but a quick peek lets you see that there are some that contains other curious things like….is that a plant?

“Hey! Oh, just here and there. Stocked up on some more food stuff but then got really distracted because look at these!”

Jaehee excitedly sets down a reusable bag on the table before reaching inside to pull out its content, which turns out to be a good sized leafy plant sitting in a cute little white ceramic pot. The leaves are wide and arrow-like in shape, marbled beautifully in vibrant greens and yellows — the lightest colour starting from the centre and transitioning much darker — that makes them appear as if they have been painted on. At a quick glance, you would’ve actually believed that the plant is fake if it wasn’t for the specks of dark soil spilling out from the base when Jaehee accidentally tipped it too much while placing it down.

“They’re called Chinese Evergreens. Aren’t they pretty?” Your roommate beams, twisting the plant this way and that. “Now that I got some time to myself, I thought why not finally fulfill my wish in living my life out as a plant mom.”

A loud snort leaves you as you gingerly place the bag of food on the kitchen counter, turning around to see that Jaehee has pulled out yet another leafy looking plant, only the leaves of this one were long and banana shaped, a solid dark, olive green colour and parted slightly at the centre into an almost fan-like shape with seven leaves equal to each side.

“I got this one because I remember growing up, my parents had one, only theirs was way bigger.” Jaehee comments, holding up the plant comfortably in her hands. “I never knew what it was called until the gardener helping me told me it was a Kaffir Lily.”

You blink, a little skeptical at the name because it certainly didn’t resemble the lilies you pictured in your head.

“Lily? So does that mean it’ll flower?”

“Apparently? I was surprised too because I don’t think I’ve ever seen my parents’ plant flower but the gardener say its sporadic and sometimes first blooms don’t happen until two or three years later.” Jaehee regards the plant with a pensive pout and a tilt of her head but then shrugs and happily says, “But judging from the pictures though, they look pretty!”

You hum, choosing to nod along with what Jaehee says before turning back to sort out the food she’s bought. Seeing Jaehee so lively like this makes you glad for her. Ever since quitting her job, it’s like a weight has been lifted and Jaehee isn’t shy about taking full advantage of all the time she has now to do the more simpler things she’s missed out on — like cultivating plants apparently.

Whatever the hobby is, it’s nice to know that at least one of you is thriving.

Over dinner you express as much, which you get a boisterous laugh in response and actually feel sorry when Jaehee asks the same of you but all you can do is tell her that things have been the complete opposite on your end.

Aside from the god awful day at work you had (one which had Jaehee physically reeling and not knowing what to do with herself for a good five minutes; that was pretty funny), you had also told her of your predicament with Jimin. She’s frowning by the time you get out that you haven’t heard from him for days now.

“Every time I ask him to meet up in person, he’s always brushed me off or changes the subject, like he’s avoiding it.” You sigh out heavily, can’t keep how troubled you are from it out of your voice. “Now I don’t even hear from him at all and it’s making me anxious.”

A pause, and once again you’re wringing your fingers as you try to work out any sort of explanation for this. “You don’t think…You don’t think I scared him off do you?”

“No, no I don’t think that’s it.” Jaehee affirms, though the pinch in her brows doesn’t go away. “I mean it would suck if that’s all it takes because damn, I actually had a lot of faith in him but….I don’t know, it doesn’t seem right to me.”

Her words give you more comfort than you had expected, a relief you hadn’t known you needed and you’re all the more grateful for her to anchor you down. After wracking her head a bit more, Jaehee says carefully, “You mentioned how he was leaving soon, did he say anything about when he’s coming back or….?”

“No, he— he didn’t say. Just that it would be soon….” You swallow, feeling your chest clench suddenly. “I mean, he’s been gone before like this — twice actually — but he comes back, he always does…”

Even if it nearly kills him….

You trail off in your ramblings, trying hard not to reveal too much to Jaehee yet you feel like you’re making excuses for yourself because you don’t want to acknowledge the possibility that Jimin would up and leave without telling you. If not to your face then you’d hoped he would have at least the decency to leave you a note. Besides, shouldn’t there be some sort of formal undoing to your contract with him if he’s clear to be a free roaming demon again? It wouldn’t make sense if you’re still tied to each other in some way, or does the contract simply null itself? You refrain from letting out a groan, feeling the frustration and the oncoming headache draining what last bit of energy you have left. Instead, you drag your hands down your face and let out a heavy sigh.

“It only makes me worry because sometimes he’s reckless and does stupid things….”

“Wait, like what kind of ‘stupid things?’” Jaehee suddenly interjects, sitting up a little straighter and sounding a little more concerned. It has you floundering on how to put lightly that it’s in Jimin’s nature (and literally his job) to go out and find people to tempt them into depravity; would be fine and all had he been the only dangerous thing roaming the city but no doubt after that fateful night, there was something else more dangerous out there. Even though Jimin had told you it was one of those rare moments that he ended up so badly injured like that, you’d rather not take any chances or have him test his luck again.

“I don’t know like…things that might get him into unnecessary trouble.” God that does not make it sound any better. Panicked, you hastily add, “Nothing illegal of course! But like he…tends to wander and is a little too impulsive sometimes – do his own thing without thinking it through?” You cringe, bracing for Jaehee to give you shit for liking a guy who now sounds like a drug dealer or something. She gives you a rather perplexed look, a sort of lopsided quirk of her lips but eventually she seems to let it go, wordlessly trusting you and your sense of judgment.

“I’m just asking because….” Jaehee hesitates, then begins chewing on her bottom lip and her nervous tick starts to make you antsy.

“What?” 

“When I met up with him, on the day we talked about quitting my job at the cafe, he also brought up how he’ll be gone for a bit and told me to make sure it doesn’t worry you too much.” She lets out a short, wry chuckle. “Actually said something along the same lines but about you, or as he put lightly, ‘make sure she doesn’t go off and do something she might regret.’”

It takes a second for her words to process, so shocked at hearing about this new tidbit of information. You blink and can’t help the hard frown that takes over your face, “W-Wha— Wait hold on, he told you he was going to be gone for a while too? And he didn’t say where either?”

And what did he mean ‘go off and do something you might regret’??

Jaehee winces slightly at seeing the heightened distress she’s caused but she powers on, firmly believing that you deserve to know as much as you can in regards to someone you deeply cared about.

“Yeah, he only said that much to me so I’m still as lost as you are. But….” She swallows, “Before he left that day, he didn’t look so well…. Like, he might be coming down with something serious.”

Your shoulders tense, heart palpitating as your mind begins to race.

“I’m not saying this to freak you out because it’s just what I saw so you can take it with a grain of salt. I’m just letting you know in case it might shed some light on some things.” Jaehee placates, holding up a hand as if in an attempt to calm you. You try to get a word out, an acknowledgement or anything but your throat suddenly feels too dry and all of your thoughts are spinning with questions that have no answers.

Did he get hurt? If so, how? Or can demons actually become ill, but from what? Is this why he’s not answering your calls or texts? Because he was trying to hide whatever this is? For how long?

“Do you know any of his friends? Someone you can contact to try and get a hold of him for you?” Jaehee’s voice pulls you back out from those depths, only half registering her words.

“I— Uh…No, not real— “ You stop your jumbled stream of thoughts midway when one name does come to mind. “Yeah…. Yeah I know someone.”

You say that, but you hadn’t exactly thought of how you were going to find him, let alone ask him if he could find out where the hell Jimin has disappeared off to.

Hell, you're not even sure if Jungkook's around to help anymore. If you remember correctly, you swear the last time you’ve spoken to him was on that rooftop garden and that felt like ages ago; you haven’t heard so much as a peep from him since.

But you need to try something.

As aloof as he is, Jimin always lingers in some way, like a shadow that’s hidden out sight and after Jaehee’s talk, you're confident that he wouldn’t just leave without telling you first. Clearly, there's something else going on with him and he's not telling you. So it’s with that hope that you find yourself doing things you wouldn’t find yourself doing late into the night at almost two in the morning.

Like google searching how to summon specific demons.

It’s so stupid, you’re well aware. Before, you would be like anyone else when it comes to your opinions on the supernaturals and anything relating to the occult; a skeptic and a very niche hobby one partakes in. You wouldn’t have thought twice about it existing because there was little to no evidence on it (or if there were claims, it would consider to be a reach). Oh how the tables have turned and with this desperate times calls for desperate measures position you’ve found yourself in, now it’s like a whole new world full of possibilities, ripe for your picking.

Perhaps not something you should dive right into the deep end of but what other choices do you have? Besides, you never know if there might actually be something helpful or clues in…..Beginner’s Guide to the Dark Arts and Satanism.

.... Fucking hell, what are you doing?

It’s okay, you reassure yourself, as long as you don’t accidentally end up in the dark webs then you’re good.

You go through a number of different websites, all looking and sounding more like something you would find in a fantasy novel or just plain cult-y. Once or twice you come across ‘summoning rituals’, most of which involve your run of the mill staple requirements: lots of pentagrams, symbols, candles, a skull of an animal or a straight up animal sacrifice, and some fancy incantations that you’re not sure are even legit.

Of the times you do come across specified summoning rituals, they include all of the above in varying methods but one thing that had remained consistent, you noticed, was that you needed a name — a ‘true’ name as they had called it — of the demon you’re trying to summon, like Beelzebub or Lucifer.

It leaves you briefly wondering about your guardian demon’s name, the one he went by rather than the alias he uses. You never realized and the more you mulled over it, you begin to feel immensely guilty.

How must he have felt when you called him by another name that wasn’t his.

You go to sleep that night with a knot in your stomach.

Much of your nights is spent that way; scouring through internet searches hoping to find some sort of lead to go off of but honestly, there’s only so much sifting you can do before everything starts to sound like the ramblings of a fanatic. The only information you had found promising was about the summoning rituals, particularly the ones to summon a specific demon, given if you knew their true names….which is something you don’t possess, either for Jimin’s or Jungkook’s.

It’s a frustrating fact because it’s the last and most crucial thing you needed if you even want to attempt trying. You hate the idea that you’re so close to getting somewhere and it’s just this one thing standing in your way. At this point, you think you might have more luck trying to summon Lucifer himself and asking him where your guardian demon went.

…..

Huh.

Your fingers stop scrolling through your phone — another demonology article you’ve come across that didn’t really have much to do with finding a lost demon but intriguing enough to have you read — the thought pervading in your mind. It should concern you that it stays for as long as it did but the worse part is that the more you thought on it, the more it made sense.

If you can end up with a demon as your traditional guardian angel, then surely you have a chance at getting a hold of his boss, right?

Before you know it, you're flinging the covers off and booting up your laptop again in the quiet darkness of your room, half telling yourself that you won’t go through with this insane plan if you can’t find that one web page that seems the most credible to you. Much to your bemusement, you do, tucked away as a bookmark no less. It comically sticks out in contrast amongst the other more mundane things on the list; cooking recipes, nail art tutorials and then boom: witchcraft, demonology and understanding how you can attract different entities based on the energy you create through the elements.

Well, you think, looks like you’re about to find out whether Hell really is toll free after all.

If someone were to tell you months earlier that you would be spending a weekend shopping around for items to set up a demon summoning ritual you’ll be attempting yourself, you’d probably just let out one long, exasperated groan into oblivion before accepting the predicament, mumbling something along the lines of ‘he’s going to end up killing me first before anything else, and then what?’

Furthermore, you’re not just summoning any demon, you’re going to try to summon Lucifer, essentially the CEO of Hell and you’re about to pull a goddamn Karen — ‘corporate will hear from me!’ — on them because your guardian demon decided to go AWOL on you and you’ve had enough of being left in the dark. When they say you either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain, this wasn’t exactly what you had pictured for yourself.

Ah, truly the things you do for love.

Once you got over that rather ironic analogy (literally stared vacantly into space for a good ten minutes, not knowing whether to laugh or cry), you had searched up all the places within your city that would possibly have the things you were looking for. The site had suggested a variety of them, ranging from apothecaries to antique shops. It took you by surprise when you do actually find two or three of them, not expecting at all for these sort of niche shops to exist in what you had always pictured to be a mostly uptown urban neighbourhood — guess that goes to show how much you go out.

Your plan was to hit up these little shops, buy what you can find there and then whatever you’re missing you would order off from a suggested website. So that’s how you find yourself on a Saturday off, bright and early; a rare sight for all kinds of reasons as normally, you’d be dead to the world until at least after twelve in the afternoon but you had been so restless that even sleep didn’t hold you back.

You’re on a mission.

After painfully following your buggy google map directions, you stumble upon the first stop. It’s a little apothecary shop, tucked away down a small, narrow side street where much of the city’s history is still prevalent in its structures. You can only guess these buildings were built in the early 1900, or even 1800 — the brick-red edifice is well worn and have patches of dense ivy that seems to almost swallow the walls whole. It appears to be tightly packed, the few mom and pop shops that are open on the street level on either side have multiple windows and sometimes iron fenced balconies above them, which you can only guess are the living spaces for the owners. For the most part, it’s quiet, the only other person you’ve seen is a young man who was too engrossed in getting an interesting angle with his camera.

Craning your neck, you take in the the lacquered sign above which reads ’The Soul Apothecary’ in gold script against a dark forest green paint that colours the outer front of the shop. It’s chipped in some places, mainly along the border that surrounds the large panelled window that display numerous of things on a small wooden shelf; crystals that are big and small in varying colours, jars of dried herbs, small potted plants, and wind chimes made of both wood and silver hanging off to the side.

It’s all very quaint and it makes you think that perhaps on some other less tumultuous time in your life, you would actually visit this place again.

Once you had your fill in admiring the exterior, you finally make your way towards the front entrance, passing by the two potted evergreens and pushing the door open to which a little silver bell chimes, signalling your arrival. Immediately, you’re taken by the interior and the smell of burning incense. It’s rustic in nature, the furnishing mostly, if not in all dark wood with the same forest green accents and despite it being a relatively small shop, everything has been designed to effectively maximize the use of space; nothing appeared to be cramped or cluttered at all.

All the walls were occupied from top to bottom with shelves and drawers, packed full of jars containing who knows what with the occasional decorative pieces breaking in between — taxidermy butterflies in frames, diagrams drawn on parchment that has browned with age, and geodes. There’s a single, long wooden table that sits in the middle of the store that holds trays of trinkets that can be worn with a little chalk sign that has an explanation on the purpose of certain items (and a winky face drawn next to a ‘buy one get one free’ advertisement), mini figurines and mortars. Above you, you realize, were dried lavender and roses hanging from a bar secured into the ceiling, their scents still faintly lingering in the air whenever you pass under.

Finally, you come upon the front till and it’s perhaps by far the most eye-catching thing you’ve ever seen. Framed on either ends of the counter were two wooden pillars that taper towards the top to form a narrow pyramid where two wrought iron rods curve outwards, meeting in the middle. Hanging from them were brass scales, varying in lengths and sizes, some of the little weights left forgotten from previous use. It’s here that you also discover the source of the incense, the lotus shaped burner resting off to the side along a call bell.

You’re so caught up in taking everything in that you had failed to notice someone else has entered the room.

“I gather you enjoy my shop?”

The sudden appearance startles you, whipping your head up to come face to face with a chest before quickly shifting your gaze upwards and when you do, you do a double take. The owner of the voice — and as it turns out, the shop — was a shockingly handsome man, his hair a chestnut brown with the tresses sweeping naturally down over his forehead and looks soft to the touch. His face is oval in shape, set upon a strong jaw and brows but paired with warm features; eyes round, tall nose, and a prominent cupid’s bow upon plush lips (though you’re sure not as plush as Jimin’s), you think you can go as far as to say his face was near perfect— the golden ratio as they call it.

He’s dressed in a white tunic shirt, loose and flowing over broad shoulders and simple black trousers, his only other accessories were the long silk scarf draped around his neck, it’s gold intricate floral designs standing out against the black colour and a single dangling silver earring with a nail point at the end of the chain, the shape reminding you of a fang as it twinkles with the slightest tilt of his head.

For a moment, your mouth and brain fail to work coherently, leaving you to gape stupidly like a fish. To be quite honest, you were half expecting a much older gentleman or lady to be the mysterious owner of the shop, a long ingrained stereotype from all the fairy tales you’ve been told as a child but standing in front of you is a man you think no older than twenty-eight. Furthermore….. why does he look so familiar?

You can’t quite place it, like your mind is just on the cusp of figuring out where you’ve seen him before, but then you’re back to drawing a blank once your eyes focus on his features. It’s almost as if you’re being forced to relive a deja vu over and over again. You give up eventually, tired of this mental battle that’s only aggravating you. Besides, you have more pressing matters at hand. Like functioning as a normal human being.

“I— Uh, y-yeah! It’s— It’s a nice place. So...” You gesture your hands uselessly, not really knowing yourself what you mean by it either so you smile back, exhaling a nervous laugh. He lets out a hearty chuckle in response, a hand over his chest as he throws his head back slightly and letting you see his Adam’s apple bob.

“Ah, hearing how speechless you are about my shop is all the compliment I need.” He peers down at you again, soft smile never leaving his face, “Though that can only mean you’ve never visited before?”

You shake your head sheepishly, confirming his assumptions. “No I haven’t, so you’re right about this being my first time.”

He withdraws to his full heigh with a thoughtful hum, nodding his head and clasping his hand behind his back. “I had a feeling since I remember all of my customer’s faces. I guess I should introduce myself then.” With a flourishing bow, he says, “You can call me Sung Jin or Joel, whichever you prefer.”

You nod, smiling widely as you introduce yourself as well. “Y/N.”

“Y/N….” Sung Jin repeats, committing it to memory. His expression dims briefly, a complete one-eighty from his otherwise cheerful demeanour but as quick as it came, it vanished, replaced by his usual benevolent smile again. It has you thinking that maybe you had imagined it. “What can I help you with today?”

Seeing as there were no other customers aside from yourself, Sung Jin sticks by your side, helping you find most of the items you have written down on a list. He’s charming, quite amicable as he enthusiastically tells you about the different plants and minerals you were looking for in great detail, their medicinal properties (or lack thereof) and other trivia facts you hadn’t bothered to look into.

You enjoy it, fascinated by what you’re learning yet you can’t help feeling the irony of it all because what you’re using these things for is far from healing purposes. And evidently, Sung Jin seems to catch on when the items start to become more and more dubious in nature, but in spite of it, he does little to deter you from buying them.

“So….. Atropa Belladonna….” He starts off casually, one dark brow raised and when you give him a puzzled look back, he adds, pointing his chin at the vial of dull purple, bell-shaped flowers and shiny black berries in your little basket. “Commonly known as deadly nightshade — not something people buy often, let alone ask in my shop.”

“O-Oh….” You nervously fidget, eyes darting from the little jar of poison to the jar in your hand (‘chamomile’ the label reads, a subconscious choice that you’d rather not look too much into). “Uh... I just thought...you know, it looked pretty interesting...?” You sound as convincing as a soggy loaf of bread, the grimace on your face not helping at all.

Sung Jin stares at you, eyes boring so intensely into your soul that you felt the need to lean back slightly. It goes on for a long minute until he lets out a loud gasp and he leans in, stage whispering conspiratorially, “You're not trying to summon a ghost or a demon are you?”

“N-NO!” It comes out louder than you had intended, spluttering and choking on air as you say defensively, “I'm not – !! Who would – why would anyone wanna do that?!” The jar still in your hand nearly goes flying from all the frantic waving you're doing. At your strong reaction, the tall brunette bursts out into a guffaw, slapping the tops of his thigh delightedly, laughter pitching and squeaking as if you'd just told him the funniest joke he's ever heard.

“I'm just kidding! Oh man, the look on your face was priceless!”

Again, you're hit with the dizzying sensation of deja vu, so fast that you're left in a daze until you're knocked back by Sung Jin who playfully smacks you on the shoulder.

Geez, is the incense that strong in here? You don't know what's gotten into you.

Once he finally calms, Sung Jin lets out a satisfied sigh, placing his hands on his hips as he regards you again. “Well! If that's all that you're looking for today, I'll be happy to cash you out whenever you're ready.”

“A-Ah...yeah....” You reply weakly, still trying to recover from the cold sweat that he made you break out into. Once you get your bearings again, you shuffle on over to the register counter and by the time Sung Jin bags the last of your things, you'd spent just a little over a hundred dollars. Your wallet is crying but you tell yourself it's all on Jimin's tab that he's wracking up with you.

“Thanks for everything today, Sung Jin. It was really nice meeting you and finding your shop.” You say. The shop owner smiles at you, about to bid you farewell when he catches himself, eyes widening in realization.

“Ah! I almost forgot something!” He whirls around from leaning against the counter to rifle through the drawers behind him, muttering under his breath until he makes a noise that lets you know that he's found what he was looking for. Turning around, he presents to you a stone crystal of sorts, about the size of his palm. At first, you think it's some type of rose quartz, only much paler than what you're used to seeing but as the light catches it, it shimmers iridescently, the vibrant colours sparkling and bouncing against the wooden surface of the counter. “A gift for you.”

“Oh no, I can't possibly...”

“Consider it as a 'thank you' for spending over a hundred dollars.” Sung Jin cuts you off with a tut, gingerly sliding the crystal into the little black pouch and cinching the draw strings together before offering it to you, “Also, it doubles up as a protective charm.”

“Oh really?” You ask, mildly intrigued, tentatively taking the bag and placing it into one of the pockets in your large tote bag.

“Yeah, keeps away all those evil spirits and spooky, scary stuff.” He wiggles his fingers at you, making you snort. Without any more surprises, you gather the brown paper shopping bags in your hands and turn, ready to leave.

“Thanks again, Sung Jin. I hope I can visit sometimes near the future.”

He shoots you a beaming smile, one that makes his eyes crinkle and cheeks full, waving cutely at you. Right before your eyes, he's aged back ten years and the sight makes it all the more difficult not to return his smile.

“Of course, come back soon Y/N. I'll be expecting you.”

His parting words ring out the same time the bell above the door does, making you halt just outside of the shop. You turn to look back as if something is compelling you to do so. It's confusing because you don't have any attachments to this place, having only visited for the first time and yet, you have this strange feeling of not wanting to leave.

The connection is broken just as quickly however, with the shuttering of painted wood, the door closing with a forceful clatter, effectively cutting off the strong earthy smell that had seemed to permeate around you until now. You shake your head, taking a deep inhale of the fresh air in the late afternoon sun. It clears away whatever dreamy haze that remained and with a shrug, you head on home, intent to tackle the rest of your remaining tasks.

Obviously, they would call for a night with a full moon, right on 3AM – the start of the witching hour. That's usually the case with these things right? Aside from this one requirement, everything else had been exceptionally easy to obtain. Your trip to Sung Jin's shop had saved you a lot of time and trouble in finding the things you needed which left only a handful of items that needed to be acquired – most of which you found on Amazon (of all places, but you suppose you really can find anything and everything on Amazon). The only hiccup you had was Jaehee nearly discovering your, as you sardonically call, 'new secret hobby' (boy that would've been a fun conversation to try and weasel your way out of).

So thanks to Amazon Prime, you have your very own demon summoning starter kit ready to go by the time the next full moon appears. And lucky for you, it lands on the day you have a closing shift so after you're done working, you can head right off into doing this – you have your eyes set on a local park just outside of your neighbourhood as the perfect place for it!

Wow, you sound way too excited about trying to summon Lucifer with no prior experience.

But you attribute the morbid exhilaration you're feeling as nerves you would have when you're doing something out of your comfort zone, like skydiving – except this was by far the most unorthodox way of getting high off of an adrenaline rush ever. Either way, you're antsy during the days leading up to it and even more so throughout your shift; you could barely keep still. Once you punch out for the night, you bid a hasty farewell to your co-workers and jet off without a second to waste. You take the bus to your normal route but instead of walking down the street towards your home, you continue on forward for two blocks.

You cross the road, coming up on the park that was like a little island all on its own with a simple playground and a set of swings that has seen better days situated in the centre, bordered by a singular paved path that curved from one end of the park to the other. The three street lamps planted sparely about the area begin to come alive just as the last of the sunset's light fades over the horizon. It casts everything in an umber glow, occasionally flickering sporadically. It's a quiet night, the only sounds are the faint chirping of crickets and passing cars in the busier intersection at the end of the road. There was no other person that occupied the park as far as you can tell, only seeing one or two people out taking a nightly stroll. The weather is especially warm tonight; even with the sun down there is still a blanket of heat that remains in the air, making you think that maybe you might actually get an early summer at this rate.

Your skin feels slightly warm and dewy as you decide to take a seat on the lone bench, finally putting down your tote and the big brown paper shopping bag you've lugged to work and stuffed in your cubby locker. It contains all of the things you need to set up for the summoning ritual but seeing as it's only eleven-thirty, you pull out your headphones to listen to some music while you wait for the appropriate time.

The moon was bright tonight, so clear against the cloudless sky that it almost looks like it was hanging right above you. You fall into a tranquil peace staring at it, the first in what felt like ages that you just bask in it – might as well take advantage of this rare moment before who knows what kind of shit will hit the fan soon.

Unfortunately, it lasts for about a good hour and a half before your nerves rear its ugly head again, suddenly so acutely aware of the time slowly passing. You're no longer satisfied with gazing at the moon, already having given up on trying to see the stars if you stared hard enough (you've never had such luck with that around here anyways). So you try to occupy yourself in other ways, like taking a look around the playground (you foolishly decided to try your hand at going down the twisting red slide which nearly sends you crashing into the sand pit below; that slide should definitely not be that fast) and doing a couple of rounds on the swings (before it let out a loud and concerning creak).

Still, the itch persists, you want to get this over with much like ripping a bandage right off. But magic takes time and precision, there's no cutting corners here, or so you read.

You eventually settle to make your base in the small platform of the play set, anxiously checking and rechecking your bag to see that you have everything. After you painfully drain your phone battery to fifty percent and nearly falling asleep, the clock finally hits 3AM. Now, you're truly deep into the night where the world falls to a hush and knows no better of the deeds that are about to transpire. The perfect cover.

You get to work, climbing down the play set with your bags in tow. Through the tab on your phone, you walk through the steps in setting up the summoning circle, using simple white chalk to draw on the pavement. You sprinkle the area with a crushed mixture of herbs and roots you had bought from Sung Jin's shop in the cardinal directions as instructed and draw a salt ring in the middle, meant to contain and protect you from harm. Finally, you mark the five candles and the inside of your wrists with more symbols in black ink and then take out a safety pin.

This is the one part you hate.

Inhaling deeply, you press the point of the pin against the pad of your thumb, adding pressure until you flinch, feeling the skin pierce and bead of crimson rises from the wound.

“Why do they always gotta involve your blood or any kind of blood....” You mutter, annoyed as you swipe it against the body of each candle, just above the marked symbols. Sticking your thumb in your mouth, you lick away the remaining blood as you arrange the candles to sit at the different points on the summoning circle and with a match stick, you light them all up. When the last of the candle is lit, you flick away the match and get into position, scrolling all the way down on your phone until you reach the incantations.

“Alright, here we fucking go...”

With your palms facing up, you begin to recite the first lines. You try to keep your tone steady and clear, enunciating each word. The further along you go, the easier they flow out like you know them off by heart, shocking you. You don't know if you're just imagining things but it's like something comes over you, a chill that travels down your spine, reaching to your fingertips and makes every nerve endings stand on edge. The sound of your own voice seems so distant to you now, like it's not even yours anymore as you fall into a trance-like state. You fail to notice the breeze that begins to pick up, a static charge in the air as the lamps around you flicker violently and when you utter the name 'Lucifer Morningstar', the candles are blown out.

When you regain your focus, you're slightly out of breath, heart thundering against your chest and in your ears. You glance around your surroundings, cautious and half-expecting to come face-to-face with the devil himself but slowly you realize....

There was nothing.

A whole three-sixty spin confirms it; there wasn't a single thing amiss around you that you're actually left in disbelief. But it's quiet now, too quiet. The crickets have stopped chirping, the street lights have stopped flickering – even the faulty one you saw earlier. So you wait another few minutes for good measures, holding your breath and shoulders tense until a sharp ringing and intense vibration erupts from your hand, causing you to yell out in surprise. Fumbling, you crash onto your knees in an attempt to catch your phone, managing to cushion what would've surely been a screen shattering fall to a short, edge denting clatter. You can't help the pathetic whine that escapes your lips; from being startled, dropping your phone, the ache in your knees, and the fact that the ritual most likely didn't work.

Shaking away the jitters, you blink, momentarily blinded by the light of your phone as it shows you the identity of the caller. You pick up after the third ring.

“Hello?”

“GIRL! WHERE ARE YOU!?” Jaehee's voice screeches through. You pull away, wincing and even from a distance, she speaks as if she's right beside you. “IT'S ALMOST FOUR IN THE MORNING AND IT'S BEEN TWO HOURS SINCE I GOT HOME! TWO HOURS!! AND NO TEXT OR CALL OR ANYTHING?! I THOUGHT YOU GOT KIDNAPPED!”

You sigh, guilt washing over you as you can hear how palpable her worry is. It'd completely slipped your mind to text her that you would be home late. You drag a hand down your face, feeling drained as your night's escapades start to catch up to you and answer Jaehee less she was going to pop a blood vessel.

“Y-Yeah sorry, sorry. I forgot I had to go somewhere and sort of lost track of time, also didn't help that I missed the last bus to get home so...”

“Do you need me to send an Uber? Where did you go? Are you far?”

“No, no it's okay Jaehee, I'll be home in a few minutes don't worry.” You reassure. You end the call after convincing Jaehee that you're absolutely fine and not being held at gunpoint. Looking down at the mess you've made, you can't help the small chortle as it dawns on you that this is definitely not something you should leave behind any evidence of – you don't think families or the elderly would appreciate finding out that there's been some occult funny business going on right outside their homes.

Whoops.

You gather the candles once the wax has dried, stuffing them back into the brown paper bag along with the little jars and vials you used. You sweep away the salt and remnants of the herbs as best you can, pushing them into the grass inconspicuously. For the ink staining your wrists, you wet your fingers with your tongue and rub until all that's left is a blotchy mess. Now all that remains was the chalk drawing of the summoning circle. At first you tried scuffing as much of it with the soles of your shoes but all that does was slightly smudge it, the markings still clear as day.

“Uhhh.....” You flounder, not knowing what to do with your hands before you give your bag a thorough rifle and triumphantly pull out an old water bottle still half full. This will do. You empty it over the drawing, making sure to try and get as much of it as you can. Thankfully, it dissolves without much resistance and you chuck the plastic bottle into the trash can. Sure there might be a few marks left over but it was hardly discernible and honestly, you can't be bothered with any more efforts. You're tired and you just want to go to sleep.

So you head on home without so much as another thought on your mind, oblivious to the ghostly white wisps of smoke trailing after you.

Jaehee was on you the moment you stepped through the door, already interrogating you and going as far as to ask if it had anything to do with trying to find Jimin. You should've figured she would assume that, knowing how troubled you were about his absence. At least because of that, she was somewhat more understanding but had made you promise you would let her know if you were going to be out past 2AM.

“I know how worried you are about him, but I don't want you going out and endangering yourself trying to find him like that. You shouldn't have to get hurt because of some bad decisions he chose to make.”

You really wished it was that simple.

So you placate her by saying that you had tried to meet with a friend of Jimin's only to be stood up at the last minute, completely not his fault. She let you go then, still miffed but otherwise glad that you're safe otherwise. You fall into a deep sleep that night the moment your head touches the pillow, exhausted.

It'd been the longest sleep you've ever had. You wake up groggy as all hell but with a new weight on your chest.

Your only lead in finding your guardian demon didn't work and the blow hits harder than you want to admit. It continues to follow you the days going forward, plaguing your mind with one question; where do you go from here?

Should you try other methods to summon a demon? Are there other methods? If so, then what? Try to find a local witch? It eats away at you and you swear you would've fallen into a manic obsession if it weren't for your friends. Like a saving grace, you get a text for an invitation to hang out on the preface that it's been a while and truthfully, it has. The last time you all had the time to gather together was before the BTS concert. At first you had wanted to decline, thinking you're not in the right state of mind to enjoy hanging out leisurely but you second guess yourself; maybe you do need a distraction, something to help clear your mind from this dark void that's taken over your life so that you can regroup and figure out what's your next best course of action.

The final push was Jaehee who practically forces you to go out at this golden opportunity, rightfully concerned about the haggard look you're starting to take on. So you pull yourself together, slap on some makeup to not look as dead on the outside as you feel on the inside, and take your ass out of the house.

It was no less a struggle, feeling as if you had to drag your feet every step of the way to the meeting spot you all agreed to. Doesn't help that the weather today was muggier than usual despite the sky being overcast, the sun constantly peeking in and out from behind the thick clouds that drift by. You don't remember it calling for rain today so you keep your fingers crossed, not liking the way some of the clouds appear darker than the others and you not bothering to bring an umbrella.

Thankfully when you reached the subway station, you're greeted by two of your friends who are already there, their cheerfulness lifting your spirits slightly.

“Y/N!!” Rosa squeals delightedly, coming to embrace you with a big hug. You let out a small 'oof' at her enthusiasm but bring your arms up to squeeze her back too.

“Hey, oh man it feels like forever since we've seen each other.” You part from Rosa to give your other friend a hug.

“Right? Oh my god...when was it? Like, before the concert?” Mei points out. “What's even sadder is that we always talked about meeting up and doing something but just...never did, for like weeks.”

Rosa laughs, “That's basically what being an adult is.”

You continue to chat idly, waiting for the rest of your other friends to show and when they do, you head on over to your favourite cafe as your first pit stop. You catch up with everyone and mainly talk about what you were all up to, which you can't exactly disclose in too much detail beyond 'working and sleeping'. It leaves much to be desired for an engaging conversation and you find yourself struggling for the first time with this disconnect, made more obvious when your friends mention any latest BTS content they've seen.

“You haven't seen this yet?!” Jess exclaims to you. She flashes you a high-definition picture no doubt taken by a fan site of Jimin on her phone, probably in the midst of their EU leg of the tour. He looks like a literal angel, dressed in all white with arms outstretched in a way that any second, you would think wings would appear, the glare of the spotlight illuminating behind him as he gazes out into the sea of purple twinkling lights. It's a breathtaking photo but right now, it's so bittersweet to be looking at him like this. Your heart clenches painfully in your chest, the emotions threatening to overwhelm you. It suddenly feels like you're living in a dream and the person you're trying to chase is nothing but a phantom, their face slowly fading from your memories and you're desperately trying to hold on.

You swallow, the tightness in your throat becoming uncomfortable as you force an apologetic smile on your face, straining. “I really didn't have time to catch up on anything lately.”

You follow your friends from one place to another afterwards, complacent in their decisions and growing more and more despondent in your responses. Whatever energy you had before to try and maintain a farce is long gone now and it doesn't go unnoticed by your group.

“Hey, you feeling okay?” Sonya asks gently, falling back to where you're hanging near the front of a cute stationary shop you all decided to randomly stop by. You go to open your mouth, ready to deny but then stop yourself, seeing no use in it. So all that comes out is a defeated sigh that has your shoulders slumping.

“Sorry, I don't know, I felt fine when I left home but I guess not...”

“Did you want to maybe get some water? I have Advil in my bag if you want. Or if you want we can walk you back home?” Sonya suggests helpfully. You give her a weak smile, declining with a wave of your hand.

“No, it's okay. Maybe if I rest a little....”

“You don't have to force yourself if you're not feeling it. If you feel like you wanna go home then we don't mind.”

You still feel guilty even though you know Sonya means everything that she says. The guilt only intensifies when the rest of your friends gather from browsing or buying something, immediately worried once they've caught on the rather serious air surrounding you and Sonya. In the end, you had decided maybe it was better to call it quits here, not wanting to trouble or ruin what was supposed to be a fun outing between friends because you're getting too much in your head. After apologizing for having to leave early and fight off their insistence on walking you back to the subway station, you part ways.

You've ended up in the deeper parts of the city, so it would take about six stops for you to get to the station nearest to your place. First though, you had a bit of a walk, either to get back to the station you exited from or the next stop over three blocks up the street, usually something you wouldn't mind if not for the looming dark clouds above you that had taken over the sky completely, plunging the world around you in a deep gloom. With no sun in sight, it makes the summer solstice 6PM look like it's winter's.

You go at a brisk pace, choosing to go back the way you came since you're more familiar with that route. The wind begins to pick up, a sure sign of the coming storm and you dread being caught out at this rate. Up ahead is a stoplight, the one where you're supposed to cross the street at but you're tempted to just cut across the road now, wanting to save time. The traffic here isn't busy with hardly any cars passing through so once you see that it's a red light on both sides, you make a run for it.

You're just about halfway to the other side when you feel the toe of your shoes catching on the asphalt and you're suddenly stumbling forward with your momentum. You're bracing for the fall but before you could let out a gasp, a strange sensation passes over you, like being suspended in midair. It goes by so quickly that you don't have the time to register the impact it makes because a split second later, a black sedan barrels past you, honking loudly as it goes and so closely you think it would've grazed your nose.

Body rigid, you're frozen from the shock, heart pounding loudly and with a mind now kicked into flight or fight mode, you sprint the rest of the way on shaky, clumsy limbs. You nearly collapse once you've reached the safety of the other side, taking deep breaths to calm yourself and the adrenaline running through you.

Either you should've looked both ways more carefully or that asshole just blew through a red light going a hundred kilometres on an eighty speed limit.

You're gonna go with the asshole because you swear the lights were red. You made sure of it.

Straightening yourself, you hoist your tote bag up your shoulders again and continue to make your way down the street. By then, it has begun drizzling, the droplets falling so erratically and lightly that they get carried by the wind. It makes it hard to avoid and only serves to further irritate you. It's a straight walk from here, you don't think you have to worry about nearly dying again so you keep your head down, one hand raised in an attempt to shield yourself from the spattering rain. You turn the corner at the end of the block, peering up to see the tall station street sign looming ahead and you've never been more relieved, powering on to reach it if only to escape the steadily increasing downpour.

So caught up in closing the last bit of distance, you're jerked out of your focus when there was a loud shout of alarm.

“HEY WATCH IT!”

Instinctively, your steps slow, body turning towards the noise in trying to find the owner of the voice. Your eyes whip to see a few people huddling under an overhang to a high-rise building you passed but what's more concerning is where their gaze is focused – widen in fear, their necks craning up, and some even rushing towards your direction, waving frantically to get your attention. It's when you follow their line of sight do you understand why.

Three stories high you spot the outlines of glass panels that line the edges of the balcony, only to your horror, many of them were teetering precariously off of their hinges with no hopes of hanging on because seconds later, their weight gives way and two of them begin to free fall.

Right above you.

You hear rather than see the first one crashing onto the pavement mere inches behind you, the sound much like that of rolling thunder that you can easily mistaken it as part of the stormy weather. You think you feel the pinpricks of glass shards spraying up to scratch your legs but all you can think is where was the second panel? You feel like you can't move your legs fast enough, so frazzled with your mind racing to barely process what is happening and eyes searching wildly but seeing nothing as if you've been blinded.

A chill runs through you then, an icy cold grip that holds you hostage and you wonder idly if this is how you're really going to die. A poor, unfortunate girl who met her demise because of some rotten luck and a freak accident.

And there it was again, that weightless feeling surrounding you, except now there's a distinct tugging as you feel yourself being pulled backwards. All at once, a flash of light goes off right in front of you, shimmering so brilliantly in an arc shape that it has you shutting your eyes, hands thrown up in protection and a gust of air whistles past your ears along with another resounding crash. It's so strong you momentarily feel the rain stop falling around you and you trip backwards, landing on your behind in a crumpled mess.

When you finally open your eyes, you're staring at a pile of frosted glass right where you had been standing, the glittering shards curving outward as if something had forced it away. You can't stop the tremors that shake through your body, breath coming out in short gasps.

What was that just now? There's no way that couldn't have hit you, you practically had a target marker right over your head for it.

Your head is spinning, barely hearing how a small crowd begins to gather around you, some approaching you while there are others who are on their phones, no doubt calling the fire department to report the incident. You're helped to your feet, are asked if you're injured and if you needed medical help, all of which you answer no thoughtlessly. You're more concerned with something else.

There's something else at work here; the first time you would've brushed it off as a trick of your mind but this time, it's just too coincidental. You swivel your head around, not even sure what you're looking for but you can't stop the traitorous surge in hope within you.

You nearly miss it.

Through the dispersing crowd you see two shadowy figures, concealed in the depths of an alley, so well hidden thanks to the darkness of the looming clouds and the still cascading rain. You stare with baited breath, watching the scene unfold as one of the figure grips the other in their hand, raising them until their feet dangled off the ground. They struggle uselessly and claw at the strong hold to no avail. Then, with an inhumane strength, they are slammed into the wall as if they were a rag doll. But to your shock, the crumpled body dissolves in a flurry of ashes and smoke, a few flickers of orange light seeping through before disappearing like dying embers on coal. You dare not take your eyes away, much less blink in fear of it being merely an illusion.

Yet the image before you doesn't fade, even though it seems like you're the only one who can see it. You watch the way the now lone figure struggles to remain upright, a hand reaching up to grasp at their head as if suddenly hit with a wave of nausea. It's then you realize they had been wearing a hood because the dark fabric falls away then, revealing to you a pale face you had not seen in so long.

“Jimin....” His name falls from your trembling lips in a mere whisper before you can stop yourself, breath caught in your throat and as if he had heard you, his gaze whips to your direction.

Your eyes lock on the familiar glow of crimson. Your heart lurches.

And then he takes off.

Panicked, you scramble to push past the few lingering bodies out of your way, feet kicking into a dead sprint, eyes never leaving his retreating back. You rush into the alley without a second thought, weaving and dodging the waste, dumpsters and other things that were lost and abandoned there. You're panting in your efforts to keep up, barely having time to call out to him but try as you might, you cannot hope to catch up to someone who's abilities far outweighs your own and after minutes of winding and sharp turns, you lose sight of him.

You come to a halt, lungs burning from exertion as your eyes dart this way and that but come up empty in what you're looking for. You curse loudly, distress taking over as you grab a fistful of your own hair. After the adrenaline begins to die down, you begin to take in your surroundings. So caught up in your pursuit of him, you failed to notice the unfamiliar streets you've ended up on. You don't know how far you've strayed, can't tell whether going up or down would be the best option in finding your way back but above all, you can't believe you let him slip from your grasp like that.

“Fuck....!” You hiss again, hands balling themselves into fists. The boiling anger makes you tremble more than the cold rain that begins to soak into you; anger at yourself for being so helpless, anger at Jimin for how distant he's become with no explanation. Were you not worth telling anything important to? The thought quells the anger to a hurt and the realization that your fears are more than likely to be true. Yet still, you don't want to confirm them, stubborn to deny it until you get answers – you needed proof. And the only way you're going to get that is to get to the bottom of it, no matter what. With nothing more to gain standing there, you reluctantly turn back to the way you came, mind frayed at the seams from all that has happened.

You don't make it two steps before someone grabs you and your screams are smothered by a hand.

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mermaidxatxheart · 4 years

Text

Bite Marks and Bruises*

A/N: This story is probably not for everyone, but I was in a big mood and this is what happened. If you like it, comment and let me know. I’m going through a really tough section of writer’s block, so comments telling me what you like about my writing might help me get through it. As always, I love you guys, you’re all amazing. Reblogs help spread my work.

*Edit* Thanks to @helenaeisenhower for her help with the Russian.

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Warnings: Hitting, slapping, rough sex. If you are under 18, turn around-go back. also, swearing.

Word Count: 2369

Summary: Emotions and heartrates are still high after a mission.

The mission had gone well. No doubt about it, no one injured, information received, object retrieved. Everyone gets to go home.

So, why is Bucky so agitated and pissed that he won’t look at anyone?

You thought you two were getting close, talking into the early hours of the morning, sharing secret jokes and looks across the room. But on the way back, you sidle up next to him on the jet and he jerks away from you.

“Not in the mood.” He snaps quietly, walking away from you.

You watch him go, frowning slightly. Maybe he just doesn’t want to talk in front of everyone else.

The jet lands and he’s first off, storming inside before anyone even moves. You’re left staring after his trail of dust and Steve stops next to you.

“He’ll be alright. He’s still adjusting. It’s hard to let go of all that anger after a fight sometimes.” He says, patting you on the shoulder.

“Thanks, Steve.” You mumble, heading inside. You head up to your room, determined to give Bucky his space. If he wanted you around, he would have told you.

You shut your door behind you, discarding your gear. You can take your weapons back down to the armory later. Right now, a layer of dust and grime cling to your skin, along with a layer of shame at not being able to help Bucky.

You strip out of your sweaty clothes, dumping them in the overly full hamper, before heading for your bathroom.

The water pounds against your muscles, relaxing you as you just stand under it, eyes closed as you drift in the steam. The fight replays in your head, trying to see any reason for Bucky to be so upset. Your eyes always seem to drift to him, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

There’s no denying you find him physically attractive. You have since the moment you laid eyes on the behemoth of a man. Watching him fight, move, laugh-so focused, giving everything 100% of his attention, gets you wet between the legs; achingly so.

And since getting to know him better, you know you’re in deep. He has a hold on you so powerful, he could make you do anything, and you would happily.

Your hands trail over your soft breasts, pinching at the nipples with a quiet moan. A fantasy forms in your head, him barging into your bathroom. You’re so naked, and slow to react. His blue eyes stare at your body and his pupils blow out, engulfing almost all the color as his eyes devour you. He doesn’t waste time on words, simply walking across the room and pressing you against the cold tiles. His mouth descends, his tongue is hungry as it explores your mouth. Your fingers rake carelessly through his long hair as his own hands fumble at his belt. He shoves down his pants just enough to free his cock and then he grips your thighs, lifting you easily and lowering you onto his throbbing shaft. You gasp as he fills you, he gives you only a moment to adjust, your walls fluttering around him, and then he takes you like a wild man.

Your hand is moving fast, forehead resting against the tile as your fantasy runs away with you. Your heavy breathing is fogging up the wall of the shower and you can barely hang on. The thought of everything he could do to you is driving you wild until you give that one final push over the edge, your release washing over you.

You bite your lip hard, wanting more but knowing you have other things to do. You finish your shower and shut off the water.

Your last towel is the worst one, small, barely covers your body. You’re in desperate need to do laundry before all you’re left with are bras and underwear.

You quickly towel off, getting dressed in a sports bra and tank top and comfortable leggings. Not the sexiest of outfits, but Bucky’s hiding in his room, so what does it matter? You sigh and collect your hamper of clothes, carrying them down the three flights to the communal laundry room. You curse Tony the whole way for putting it so far from the living quarters.

You set the basket down, arms shaking slightly as you catch your breath before shoveling your clothes into a machine.

You jump and spin around as the door clicks and locks shut behind you. It’s just Bucky, but something seems wrong. He’s not looking at you, his face angled to the floor, mouth set in a harsh line, fists clenched at his sides.

Maybe he didn’t notice you and came down here to be alone. Should you say something? Alert him to your presence?

You take a deep breath, feeling something has changed between the two of you. You don’t know how to talk to him right now. You scoop up your iPod and head for the door, planning to just walk out and leave him be.

Your hand is on the cold iron of the lock when his hands grip your shoulders roughly. “Bucky?” You start, your voice trembling slightly.

He meets your gaze and his eyes are dark, clouded over. He’s watching your face intently and, unable to help yourself, your eyes drop to his lips, your tongue wetting your own in desire.

A growl rumbles low in his chest and he presses you against the door, his mouth crashing over yours. For a moment, you’re trapped in the power of him, your brain slow to catch up. But then it fast forwards, his lips, despite being angry, are deliciously soft. Your own lips are molding with his, moving in a dance that feels like you’ve done it a million times. His hands have moved from your shoulders to cupping your face.

Your arms fly around his neck, digging into his scalp as you eagerly kiss him back. He groans as you pull on his hair, grabbing your face and twisting it away from him. He sucks and bites his way down your neck, leaving bite marks and bruises along the way. You’re so wet right now, his mouth feeling better than any fantasy.

A moan escapes your lips as he holds your face against the door. “Why aren’t you fucking naked?” He snarls, his hand dropping to one of his knives. He presses the blade against your shirt and with a gasp you shove him away.

“Don’t you dare!” You snap, crossing your arms across your torso and lifting your shirt, pulling your bra with it. He’s back on you in the space of a heartbeat, his hands rough on your soft breasts, pinching, pulling, twisting as you shove down your leggings.

He kicks your feet apart, pinning your arms over your head with one hand. His metal hand pushes up between your legs, dipping into your wet folds and swirling your clit.

"Уже мокрая? Ты либо любишь пожёстче, либо у тебя давно никого не было." He growls. [Wet already? Either you like it rough, or it’s been a while.]

You yank your hands free and shove him backward hard. He bumps into the folding counter and your hands are ripping at his knife belt and pants.

“Both, you bastard.” You reply and he smacks your hands away, grabbing you and shoving you over the counter. He pulls your hands roughly over your head, pinning them to the counter with a viselike grip. He presses you into the counter, holding you in place as he thrusts his rock hard cock into your very wet, very tight tunnel.

You cry out, spasming around him as you cum already. But he’s not done with you yet. He pulls out nearly completely and his hips snap forward, slamming into you and forcing your thighs against the counter.

You aren’t sure what made him so mad, but fuck if you aren’t so fucking happy about it.

He growls quietly, menacingly as he holds you down into the counter, fucking you harder and rougher than you’ve ever been fucked.

His fingers curl into your wrists and you can feel the bruises forming already, no one’s ever been so sure you won’t break, always making love to you like you’re a delicate flower. Bucky isn’t doing that. He’s fucking you, taking what he wants-how he wants it.

You’ve never been so wet.

He fills you to the brim, stretching you more than you thought you could accommodate, each violate slam of his body against yours brings you miles closer to cumming. Your mouth opens in a silent cry as he beats powerfully against your cervix, drool pooling on the counter.

Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh fuck!

He fucks you over the edge of another orgasm, fire burning through your veins before he wrenches himself free of your squeezing cunt and shoves you to the floor.

You land with a hard thud and a grunt, barely having time to look at him before he’s on you, pressing the tip of his swollen cock through your puffy lips. He tastes of you and you swallow him down hungrily, slurping at him, squeezing his shaft as your throat squeezes the head. He moans loudly, gripping your hair and thrusting hard and deep into your mouth.

You moan in absolute pleasure as he uses you for his own. He starts to swell in your mouth, twitching against your tongue and pulls out with a cry.

You gasp for air, tears running down your cheeks. He wraps his metal hands around your throat and your cunt gushes instantly as he pulls you to your feet. He shoves you hard against the counter, lifting and spreading your legs as he thrusts home, burying himself deep inside you. He grabs at your ass, urging you closer, to take him deeper as you wrap your legs around his powerful hips that never stop and never slow.

His eyes are closed, so lost inside himself that your heart breaks just a little bit. One of his hands closed around your breast, manipulating your nipple, pushing you higher. You rake your fingers through his hair with a sinful moan and his eyes squeeze tighter.

You want to whisper his name, to plead with him to keep going, that you want this. But you feel as though it’s glass, one word might shatter it. And you can’t have that.

Instead, you arch into his hand, dragging your nails down his neck. He groans and pushes you back flat against the counter, picking up speed.

Fuck, you’re close again. You’ve never had so many in a row.

His hand tightens around your throat, squeezing it. Your hands grasp at his strong wrist, holding on for dear life as you float higher and higher.

You cum again, crying out and arching your back, gripping his cock tight inside you and he uses that hand around your throat to sit you up again. He crushes you against his chest, fucking you faster. Your body is burning, burning with friction, burning with lust and desire, burning with pleasure. You fear he’s going to burn you to a crisp before he finally lets go.

His mouth is moving silently, lips repeating the same thing over and over, just one word. You wrap your arms right around his neck as he moves inside you, faster and deeper and harder-so rough that you think you might break apart from it all.

You can hear his breath in your ear, just one word being repeated in frantic huffs as he fucks you blindly.

“Y/N. Y/N. Y/N.”

You cum once again to the sound of him muttering your name like a prayer and suddenly your lips are on his, kissing him harshly, biting at his soft plump lips, digging your nails into his back, his neck, his shoulders.

He moans into your mouth, hips finally stuttering as he buries himself to the base inside you, sensitive head popping past your cervix as he lets go, cumming rope after rope after rope of hot, sticky cum deep inside your womb, his mouth braced against your neck, biting you roughly.

You cry out, holding onto him, legs holding his hips deep while you both float back down to the earth.

After a minute, he begins to soften, pulling out of you, and you miss the feel of him already, so solid, so safe.

Feeling like home.

He stares at you for a long minute, taking in your tear-stained face, the bite marks and bruises covering your body as you look at him.

He pulls up his pants, grabs his shirt and leaves you sitting on the counter, naked, exposed and so thoroughly fucked.

After a dazed moment, you pull your own clothes back on and run after him.

“Bucky!” Your legs are shaking after all that but you manage to catch up to him. He starts to move you out of the way, avoiding looking at you, but you refuse to let him.

“Bucky-I’d really like to do that again.” You say, hand pressed against his chest to keep him in place.

He looks at you sharply, face surprised.

“Say... in an hour. Maybe in the woods on the far side of the compound? I don’t want to have to be quiet.” You tell him and his mask cracks just a little.

“I shouldn’t have lost control like that.” He mutters.

“Seemed to me like you were in perfect control. I’ve never been fucked like that, and I’ll be damned if I’m just gonna let that go. You’re gonna fuck me at least twice a week.” You pause, looking at him and considering the stamina you’ve seen from the super-soldier. “Well, maybe six.”

He grins, giving you a wink. “Deal.”

“I expect that kind of fucking after every mission, too, Sarge.”

His eyes are watching your face intently. Your own eyes drop to his groin, licking your lips like a hungry wolf.

“The woods, in an hour. I don’t like to be kept waiting.” You pull him in for a hard kiss before sauntering back to your laundry, cunt pulsing in anticipation.

Tag List:

@everythingisoverrated @dsakita @shreddedparchment @alexblrus @bitsandbobsandstuff @after-avenging-hours @thinkingsofamadwoman @i-dont-want-to-be-called @thefridgeismybestie @fortheloveofallthatsholy @crazychaotic @pleasureoftheguiltiestvariety @redstarstan @justreadingfics @themistsofmyavalon @sebastianstanslefteyebrow @wkemeup @thiccbinch @glide-thru @moli1497 @ellaenchanted91 @part-time-patronus @janeyboo @jensensjaredsandmishaslover @thirstybitchqueen @xxloki81xx @stuckonjbbarnes @browngirlmagic @geeksareunique @nicoleplacee @lexshead @gambitsqueen @sebbbystaaan @lokisironthrone

#marvel #marvel fanfic #Bucky Barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes x reader #romance #rough #Smut #bucky barnes smut #mermaidxatxheart-writes

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mcfreakin-bxtch · 4 years

Text

Secure

Pairing: The Mandalorian x Reader

Warnings: Smut (slightly dominant reader in this one), swearing, some ptsd?

Word Count: 5.2k

A/N: Part five is finally out! I have about four or five more parts planned so far, if anyone has any ideas for future ones or any requests at all never be afraid to inbox!

The Mandalorian’s Love Series

(Oof)

...

Din had absolutely become insatiable since the last incident. His protectiveness over her and the baby had increased, that was for sure. Y/N had to talk to him about his constant eye, but at the same time she didn’t mind it, understood why he was more alert. He bought her a new set of armor, not nearly as good as his beskar, couldn’t find enough credits for it, but it would have to do for now, and even began training with her again; she actually really loved that comeback, for different reasons of course.

But most of all it was hard to get him off her. Din became more confident in that area the more time they spent together – although she was aware that it was mainly to ensure himself that she was still there – and it was getting to the point where he couldn’t even wait to get her back on to the Razor Crest. It sent a rush of excitement through her veins whenever he would pull her to an abandoned alley, push her up against the wall, and take her where anyone could see them.

The blaster shot not only affected Din, but Y/N as well, his words repeating in her head after their passionate lovemaking. The guilt from their fight from that night swept over her as she thought them over. The new nightmares that now plagued her mind daily showed from the dark circles under her eyes; the feel of the blaster shot piercing her skin, the face of the young, deceiving gunslinger was a constant reminder of what could have been. Din didn’t want to cause another fight between them, and so he did his best to comfort her, soothe the nightmares away with gentle touches and soothing words as she did with him, and to listen; she’d talk to him when she was ready.

This time Y/N stayed on the ship with the Child while the Mandalorian went to collect a small bounty. There were no problems on their end, she played with the baby most of the time before putting him down for a nap. When she heard the ramp to the Razor Crest open she got into a defensive stance, pulling out her weapon before she heard the familiar thumps of his boots enter the ship. With a sigh she set her blaster down and went to greet him. She found him down in the hull of the ship, barely getting a word out before the man was on her.

Ever since he felt her touch against his bare skin for the first time he hated putting his armor on around Y/N. It closed him out, closed out her inviting heat to his thirsty skin. But times like these would have to do. It was a stressful day, such a small job causing such a big problem for him, and it was barely enough money to get by and he needed her. Needed her to help him forget, to feel almost human again. And she was wearing a fucking dress today; the planet they were on experiencing a heat wave, even Din sweating horribly underneath his armor. He probably should’ve waited until he had gotten cleaned up, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care in the moment.

The dress was a plain gray, but it still looked so beautiful on her, hugging her curves in all the right ways. He could see some sweat glistening on her collarbone, between her breasts’, down the calves of her legs. He pushed her against the wall of the ship, being mindful of his armor as he placed one hand on her throat, barely putting any weight on it but the message was clear: stay. The other he placed at her mouth, pointer finger tracing her lips. Y/N knew what he was asking for and opened her mouth, tongue inviting and swirling and sucking on his finger, causing him to let out a choked groan. She finally took mercy and bit down on the glove, Din pulling back to slip his hand out of the glove and dive straight for her wet center.

Y/N moaned as he teased his middle finger around her swollen clit, coming close to begging before he circled it. She bit her lip, struggling to keep quiet as to not wake the baby. He trailed his fingers down to her soaking lips, almost moaning in response; usually he’d drag this out, making sure she was begging and withering under him for his cock, but that would have to wait until later. Pushing her panties to the side and helping her fumbling hands with his belt, he growled lowly as her hand circled his girth, swiping her thumb over the head of his leaking tip. Swatting her hand away, he swiftly turned her around, placing her front against the wall of the ship. Arching her back and running a hand down the length of her spine, he placed his forehead against her right shoulder and slid in, making them both moan sweetly. He immediately started a rough pace, gripping her hips as if his life depended on it. She deepened her arch, taking him in deeper as a result. The cool beskar armor felt amazing against her hot, sweaty skin and added more into the euphoria she was already feeling.

“Don’t stop,” Y/N begged, legs starting to shake. “Kriff Din you feel so good inside me.”

Din gritted his teeth, already so close to his orgasm, but he needed her to come first. Their breathless gasps and moans filled the ship,

“Fuck,” Din’s voice was ragged, desperate with release. “Touch yourself, babygirl. I want to see you.”

The words alone made her walls flutter around him. Before she could even move her hand, they heard the clatter of something dropping above them, followed by a small little coo. Scrambling to cover up, Y/N had barely fixed her underwear and pulled her dress down before the small little devil in question popped into view. The Mandalorian wanted to scream at the interruption as he fixed his belt, sighing heavily in frustration.

“We’re really pushing our luck with him,” he muttered. “He’s gonna catch us pretty soon.”

Y/N let out a tired giggle. He felt her hand caress his ungloved hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.

“Later,” she whispered.

…

Din hated this idea. But they needed the credits and this one of the closest options they had. Y/N had heard about the people the Mandalorian used to work with and knew that he wasn’t particularly fond of them now.

“This is a bad idea,” the Mandalorian mindlessly said to the Child next to him in the cockpit.

Once Ran’s space station came into view Din’s heart started to pick up.

“Before you say anything,” Y/N said when Din turned his seat towards her. “I’m coming with. You already said that you don’t really trust these people and we’re not going to have a repeat of last time.”

She did not want to tell him that she was also scared, scared that she might not be able to revert back to her old self, to the self that was able to stand in front of an enemy without the fear or flashbacks. How she couldn’t even enjoy a drop of the glittery drinks she would try at the cantina’s they would visit anymore. She needed to try, to take it into her own hands now.

Din had spent years being able to his emotions and even body language from the general public, but it was hard to with her, the woman who had broken down most of his barriers. She immediately felt guilty for the last part when she saw him audibly flinch, but it needed to be said. She couldn’t let him go alone again when he needed the help. She could see that he wanted to argue before sagging with acceptance.

It only took two steps for him to stand in front of her, placing a hand on the back of her neck and placing his forehead on hers before going to secure the Child into their room; Y/N only recently found out that that was the equivalence of a kiss, of showing his love for her.

To be honest, Y/N was sort of excited and nervous at the same time to see this part of Din Djarin’s life rather than just hearing it; she had wished, though, that it was under different circumstances.

“Mando!” They both turned, seeing an old acquaintance and a short man with long, shaggy hair all around.

“Is that you under that bucket?” Ran teased, reaching out to shake his hand, eyeing up Y/N as he did so. “I was surprised when I heard from you. And who might this be?”

“Y/N.” She introduced before Din could say. “Partner of his.”

“Partner huh?” the man teased. The Mandalorian said nothing, only waiting to hear the details of their job.

“Well this was supposed to be a five-man job, but one more wouldn’t hurt. Follow me.”

Din was a little tense next to Y/N as they followed Ran, and it took everything in her to stop herself from holding his hand; she had to clench her fist to stop the twitching of her muscles.

“What’s the job?” the Mandalorian asked, voice stoic as it used to be before Y/N.

“Got one of our associates in a foul of some competitors and got himself caught. So we’re gathering a crew to break him.”

Y/N wanted to ask who this associate was but remembered Ran’s ‘no questions asked’ policy he had been quick to remind once questions started rolling and pierced her lips in a thin line. Din grinned under the helmet, being with her for as long as he had been, he knew questions were brewing from the woman trialing behind him.

“And you got a ship too, only reason why I let you back in here,” Ran told him.

The Mandalorian and Y/N both tensed. “The ship isn’t part of the deal,” he said, a warning growl laced behind his words.

“That Razor Crest is the only reason on why you both have a job,” Ran argued.

Din was shooting glares that could kill, and Ran could sense his agitation. He answered it with a laugh, leveling with the silver man.

“Is that gratitude under there?” Ran pointed, squinting his eyes at him.

It took everything in Y/N not to punch him in the face and be done with the job. If it weren’t for the baby on the ship, she probably would’ve.

“I think it is.” Ran was still chuckling when he walked away, towards the direction they had just walked in.

The Mandalorian was still tense when he turned around, giving Y/N a look before following. Y/N should’ve just stayed on the ship.

“Hey Mayfield,” Ran called out.

A man bent over some sparks looked up, raising his eyebrows at the approaches’.

“Yeah?”

“This is Mando, and his partner Y/N,” Ran introduced to him.

Y/N ignored Mayfield’s trailing eyes over her body, doing a poor job of concealing his interest, but Din made a mental note to take care of him later.

“This is the man I was telling you about,” Ran continued. “The one we did all those jobs with then. We were all just young, trying to make a name for ourselves but travelling with a Mandalorian? Brought us our reputation.”

Mayfield crossed his arms over his chest, sizing the Mandalorian.

“Yeah? And what did he get out of it?” Mayfield asked.

Ran chuckled. “That’s what I used to think. You remembered what you said?” He turned towards Din, who Y/N could see was clenching his fists and – she had gotten very good at reading his body language, a seemingly whole new language Y/N had to create and learn – it seemed as though he was trying to hide from her, worried of her reaction.

“Target practice,” Ran answered for him, laughing.

Y/N let out a breath she hadn’t realize she was holding. She wanted to take it back immediately once seeing Din twitch. She was a little shocked, yes. She had seen him angry and frustrated before, and they had their little fights and arguments, but never once was she afraid of him hurting her; it wasn’t that kind of fear that sometimes washed over her when she saw Din in those moments; could see the ruthless bounty hunter most were afraid of. It was fear that one day it would get him killed, that one day it would consume him entirely if something were to happen to her or the Child. It was the fear that maybe she’ll never truly know Din Djarin, that he would always hide parts of himself from her. Y/N looked at these as irrational fears in some moments, it was just her anxiety trying to get the better of her. Besides, it’s not like she was completely innocent herself.

“We did some crazy stuff, didn’t we?”

“That was a long time ago,” Din finally said, voice a little hoarse.

“Well I don’t really go out anymore,” Ran sounded a little disappointed from the lack of the old Mandalorian he used to work with. “So Mayfield is the main point. What he says will be coming from me, do you get that?”

Y/N and Din looked to each other, and even without seeing his face, they could still have their silent conversations. Mayfield looked annoyed but still smug as they looked back to him, the Mandalorian studying him.

“You tell us.”

There was a small moment of silence, the tension so thin you could slice through it. Ran, the one who seemed to have the most fun out of this situation so far, broke it with another laugh.

“Haven’t changed at all, Mando. And your girl, I can sense some spunk in her too.”

“Yeah, well,” Mayfield interrupted. “Things have changed around here.”

Mayfield glared back at the Mandalorian was he walked away, stopping only to check Y/N out some more when Ran stole his attention away. Y/N met his eyes, wrinkling her face in disgust when he gave her a small smirk, carefully listening to Ran’s and the Mandalorian’s conversation.

“That’s not saying much.”

Y/N giggled at the joke, enjoying Mayfield’s offense to it. They were introduced to Berg, who was eager to show off his bulky body and powerful strength, not wasting any time in showing off and trying to intimidate both the outsiders. They were both unfazed, used to being in the face of danger on a daily.

“I thought you said there were four?”

Y/N knew it was taking everything in him not to scream. She told herself to stay calm and focused not only for herself, but for Din as well; she knew it took a lot for him to return to this part of his life and wanted to be there with him every step of the way. He would probably say this later, but a part of him was happy that she was there with him; her presence alone was a constant reminder of the man he bettered himself to be and the people he loved and needed to protect.

“There are,” a voice answered from behind.

They all turned towards the source. It was a woman – Twi’lek to be exact – twirling a small knife between her fingers with a smirk aimed only to the Mandalorian.

“Hello Mando,” she greeted.

“Xi’an,” Din breathed in shock.

Y/N looked back and forth between the two of them, not liking the way the mysterious woman was looking at him; like they were well familiar with each other and she was beginning to be hungry for more. She knew he had others before, he could feel his blush under her palms when she held his face as he told her before their first time; it didn’t bother her, she had others as well, but actually seeing them was a different ball game.

Xi’an started to circle him now. “Tell me why I shouldn’t cut you down where you stand?”

Not giving Din any time to answer, she rushed forward, placing a knife at this throat. Y/N flinched, hand twitching towards her belt that concealed her knifes and blaster. Din, on the other hand, didn’t move a muscle.

“Nice to see you too.”

They all gave out a chuckle, sans Y/N and Din, Xi’an’s being particularly pitched as she moved away.

“I missed you,” she almost purred.

Her eyes finally fell onto the new woman, making a noise of surprise before turning.

“And who’s this?”

“Partner,” Din answered curtly before Y/N could open her mouth. “Y/N, she’s my partner.”

Y/N wanted to glare at him, but kept her eyes trained on the woman in front of her as she grinned mischievously.

“Partner, huh?” Echoing Ran’s earlier remark at their play. She didn’t sound convinced. “Forgot about me so quickly?”

Din could see the annoyance and jealously radiating from Y/N, as he was sure the others could sense as well. He hated putting her in this position. It was killing him seeing her doubtful, and – though it would take some work to get her to admit it – jealous and hurt. In the beginning of their new relationship, friendship even, Y/N would have her doubts on whether she was good enough to be travelling with the Mandalorian; she used to feel so out of place in his world, so incompetent. It took several speeches to assure her otherwise.

…

The teasing didn’t stop even when they were on their way to the prison. Xi’an and Mayfield were doing everything in their power to make sure that Din and Y/N were both jealous and angry. And when Mayfield not only touched but dropped the baby when in turbulence? They never wanted to hurt someone as much as they do in that moment. Leaving the Child on the ship alone with the droid wasn’t easy, even for Y/N. She rubbed Din’s back as he looked back, feeling the anxiety of the situation settling in.

Once inside they showed the hunters why they were partners in the first place. Y/N couldn’t help but smirk when Xi’an would notice how Din stood over her, how their movements together were as fluid and swift as ocean waves. She received a hiss in response.

But really, considering everything leading up to the moment of treachery, they should have seen this coming. Xi’an pushed her in first, Din pulling out his gun and before getting pushed in himself, causing him to fire a round into the closed off cell. The red dot blasted off everywhere in the room, magically missing them entirely before finding a spot to stay in.

Y/N sat against the wall as Din stood by the cell door, cursing as they laughed and left. She was frozen, breathing heavily as she saw flashes of Calican’s gun pointed at her blindly, could hear the shot of it as if it was happening all over again. The old scar throbbed under her skin, she was starting to sweat, and she had to close her eyes to stop more of the flashbacks from reappearing. The Mandalorian turned around at the sound of her breathing and his heart sank when he put two and two together, quietly crouching down by her side.

“Y/N?” He asked softly, careful not to jolt her. “Y/N, honey. Can you hear me?”

His voice sounded like he was in the next room, like it was through the walls, but she nodded her head anyway.

“Okay, I need you to take a deep breath and focus on my voice. Can you do that for me?”

Another nod. She took a shaky first inhale and a shaky exhale, could hear Din doing the same thing next to her with a hand on her shoulder, guiding her. After a few more inhales and exhales she started to calm, listening to the soothes coming from his modulated voice, still lovely as ever.

“I’m gonna find us a way out of here,” he calmly explained. “Once I do, I want you to go back onto the ship. Please don’t argue with me about this.”

Y/N didn’t have in her to and didn’t want to leave the Child on the ship alone any longer, so she agreed. She let him help her up on shaky legs, making sure she was okay to stand on her own before going back to the door. She watched as he waited for a droid to walk back, whipping his rope out to wrap around the arm of the droid and reel him to the door, struggling while he pulled the arm off.

“Okay,” the Mandalorian breathed out once the door was open. “Good to go?”

Y/N grabbed the blaster, nodding in confirmation. He took a step out before stopping, quickly grabbing her wrist to pull her over, placing his forehead on hers briefly before disappearing down the hallway. Sneaking away to the Razor Crest was easier than she thought – though she did receive some help from the Mandalorian watching the cameras – and quietly entered the ship, ears alert for any signs of life. Hearing the quiet little gurgle of the baby prompted her to move faster, climbing up to the cockpit where the droid had its back turned to her, gun aimed at the Child. With no hesitation, she aimed her gun at the droid and shot. Seeing the look on the Child’s face made her want to laugh, and she assumed he tried to use whatever he had against the robot; she was just happy he was safe.

…

“No questions asked, right?”

Ran was taken back before he cracked a smile. “Girl learns quick,” he mused.

“Yeah.” Was all Din said.

Y/N boarded the Razor Crest after their exchange feeling drained but happy with the outcome all the same. Sitting in the co-pilots seat to his left, the Child on his right, she felt a breath of relief whenever the X-wings flew past them to Ran’s station. Sending the ship into hyperspace, Din let out a sigh as he leaned back in his chair, unscrewing the metal back from the handle to hand to the baby.

“I told you that was a bad idea,” he said to him. The Child reached his hand out, taking the ball graciously. Y/N smiled at the image in front of her.

“I’m going to clean up a little,” she said to Din, getting up from her chair.

“Are you okay?”

Y/N stopped in her tracks, nodding her head at him. “Yeah, I’m okay. It was just…”

“I know,” his voice cracked.

“We’ll talk after I get cleaned,” she said. “I promise.”

Din wanted to talk to Y/N, hoping that everything was still okay between them. He was afraid of her seeing his past self, and Xi’an didn’t make it any better, her words echoing in his head.

“I’ll make sure to take good care of you new toy, Mando,” Xi’an had threatened as he placed her in her new cell. “Spare her before you ruin her.”

He had to remind himself that Y/N and the Child were waiting for him. That Y/N was an adult, they had this conversation plenty of times.

And he knew what she went through in that cell, and it made him see red; it was hard keeping his emotions in check, this was about her, not him, but gods did his heart break and blood boil when he saw her pale face, frozen in shock from the blaster.

When he saw the Child blink his eyes tiredly, he got up to put him to bed, going back to his seat afterwards and thinking about what to say to her.

“You have nothing to worry about.”

Din jumped a little but hid it well, turning his head to indicate he heard her. She was in a comfortable long sleeve shirt and light pants now, barefoot as she walked towards his seat. He turned until she was in front of him and rested his head against her stomach, wishing that it was her hand running over his hair rather than his helmet.

“I’m sorry about Xi’an,” he croaked out. “And what happened in the cell. I should’ve known-.”

“Stop,” she told him softly. “None of that was your fault. I know it bothered you just as it did me, even a little bit more.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, not sure if I want to do anything like that again.”

“We’ll probably have to,” she whispered. “But we’ll get through it. We always do.”

He liked that she always said ‘we’, made it easier to get through the days knowing that she was always by his side by the end of the day.

“Din,” she sighed, climbing onto his lap. Din instinctively placed his hands on her hips, tilting his head at her.

“I know that was hard for you, going back to that and allowing me to see that part of your past. But I really do appreciate it, and so does the Child. And I don’t see you any differently than before. You’re still my Din Djarin. Nothing you can do will make me hate you or cower away from you.”

Din was always shocked to hear those kinds of words from anyone for that matter, let alone Y/N. She was his beacon of light, his love, his hope, and maker it felt as if all his worries and troubles evaporated from them.

Y/N then grinned mischievously, settling more comfortably in his lap before messing with the straps to his chest plate. She rolled her hips subtly against his, and she didn’t miss the quiet intake and the squeeze of his fingers on her skin.

“I do remember being rudely interrupted earlier,” she teased, unclipping the straps and pulling the piece off. Then his shoulder pads. It allowed her to scoot closer to him, her heat contacting with his hips, making his roll against it.

“That’s right,” he grunted, tightening his grip on her. He was about to get up to take her to bed, but she had other ideas, placing a hand on his chest to stop him.

“She never made you feel as good as I do, right?” She whispered sultry by his ear, rolling her hips hard against his again. She heard him gasp, was close enough to hear it unmodulated as well. It made her hips stutter, Din taking handful of her ass in his palms, encouraging more from her.

“No, never.”

“You know I have to laugh at her,” Y/N said breathlessly, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, getting increasingly wet from the ministrations.

“She thought she had you, thought she could get to me. But could she when I’m the one you wake up to every morning? How I’m the one you take pleasure from, who gives it to you as well. Who’s tasted those delicious lips and who’s always there for you no matter what.”

Din couldn’t take much more of this, placing his feet on the floor to ground his hips against hers harder and faster.

“Always you,” he fucking whimpered, making her cunt clench around nothing and juices sweep from her; she was sure he could feel it, heard him growl.

“Gods Din,” Y/N whined pathetically.

“Tell me,” he stuttered out, breathing picking up along with hers. “Tell me what you want to do to me. Fuck I’d let you do anything, anything for my girl.”

Y/N moaned, trying to keep it low as to not wake the baby. She couldn’t form any coherent thoughts, words near impossible from the friction of his hips against hers.

She cried when he stopped, stopping her from moving as well.

“Tell. Me.”

“Shit I – I want to ride you. Right here on this chair. Fuck I’ve imagined it so many times, imagined your dick in my mouth as you fly.”

The words were flowing out of her without much thought, the words themselves combined with her airy voice made him harder if that were possible.

“Good girl.”

Before the words could relay their effect on her he pushed her off, not too hard or rough where she would fall, but enough that he could work on his belt. She took the hint and started with her shirt before her pants, only able to get one leg out before he grabbed her hips again, pulling her to his lap. His erection brushed against her stomach, hot and heavy against her. She groaned at the feeling of it.

“Close your eyes,” Din finally whispered.

Y/N closed them immediately, hearing the clank of his helmet on the ground before his lips hungrily attacked hers. It was all teeth and tongue as he ravished her, hands squeezing her breasts and roughly trailing over her body. She moaned and rolled her hips against his girth, earning a satisfied groan and a nip at her pulse point.

There was no need for a blindfold or complete darkness this time, he trusted her enough to know that she wouldn’t dare open her eyes.

“Turn around,” he growled lightly.

Y/N was going to, but placed her hand over his mouth, trailing the other over his chest, his nipples – which earned a groan from the Mandalorian – and reached down to line her dripping opening against his length.

“Next time,” she breathed as she took him in, both gasping at the feeling of each other connected.

He rolled his hips up, sheathing himself to the brink. He helped her roll his undershirt up, stopping just above his rib cage. She started a fast pace, too impatient to wait until she adjusted; she loved how his girth stretched her every time they were intimate, loved the pain that came with the pleasure.

“You belong to me,” Y/N growled. This new take of dominance coming from her was turning Din on even more, making him moan and thrash under her. “Just as much as I belong to you.”

“Yes,” Din groaned. “Always.”

She buried her face in his neck, pulling down the neck of his shirt just enough to feel skin, inhaling his scent and kissing every inch of the skin before biting down gently on his sweet spot.

“Y/N,” Din whined, hips jutting up faster and harder into her, feeling her walls squeeze him. “You’re gonna make me come too soon if you keep it up.”

“Good. I want it, need it.”

He grabbed a fist full of her hair, roughly pulling her up to stare at her beautiful face, constricted with pleasure, and kissed her, taking her bottom lip between his teeth. Y/N moaned into it, walls fluttering and clit pulsing as the curls of his hair brushed against it.

“I want you to come baby,” Y/N breathed into his mouth as she felt him pulse and twitch inside her. “Let it go.”

It only took a few more hard thrusts and a pinch of his nipple to come deep inside her, hips stuttering and voice choking. She came soon after, moaning into his ear and clenching her thighs around him and the seat. She sagged against him once their hips stopped moving, both panting. After their breathing slowed he placed kisses to her bruised lips and cheekbones before placing his head against her chest.

“If getting jealous does this to you, I might just do it more often,” Din joked.

Y/N chuckled, pinching him lightly on his bicep.

“Don’t you dare.”

Tags: @momc95, @treehousemagicblog, @riverquartzuniverse, @beepbeepyabitch, @smol-flower-kiddo, @harps-for-days, @teenagedirtbagg2, @goththespian

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian imagines #the mandalorian smut #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagines #din djarin smut #pedro pascal #disney plus #star wars #xi'an #ran #mayfield #bill burr #baby yoda #the child

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jiminrings · 4 years

Note

uu abt homebound au, what goes on with racer! hobi and jk?? i guess this is kinda a request? thanks ilysm :")

homebound: koo’s pov

a lil homebound special that’s in jungkook’s pov and u get to see what’s going on in his noggin :D

glimpse: kook’s a protective best friend, hobi is a hyung that he never knew he needed, aND he just needs y/n as his forever emotional support shoulder :D

wordcount: 3k

notes: aHHHHH first of all i love you too!!!! write that down pls

this is a spin-off because earlier, i made a drabble from a request about jimin and y/n’s tough love relationship as crew chief x crew member!!! i loved making that piece they r so dynamic :D

read homebound the fic!!!

it’s not easy being jungkook

ugh yeah he kNOWS he’s handsome and talented and charismatic but gOd this is getting out of hand now

he has to save your ass

AGAIN

well not literally your ass,.,. it’s your thumb this time

he’s met you like what?? two months ago and you’re already a handful!!! LOOK AT YOU

“g-googie pLEASE just h-help me i can’t do it mYSELF!!!”

if only two months ago, jungkook was pulled from basketball practice and shoved into the empty-looking gymnasium AND sat in the front instead of the back right next to you

if only he hasn’t opened his mouth and told that he liked your softball uniform aND coincidentially found a fellow athlete that lit rally only joined sports for the uniforms.,.,..

if only he didn’t reciprocate by saying that he joined basketball for the fluffy warmers.,.,..

HE WOULDN’T BE HERE RIGHT NOW

he wouldn’t deal with you calling him urgently and sAying it’s of a great emergency and that he had to sprint from the other side of campus grounds to where you were

you wouldn’t be right here sat on the ground, hand outstretched for him to mend as he’s only giving you a sCOWL of disbelief

ok fine

jungkook doesn’t regret you being his best friend but he dOES regret having a weak spot for you

“didn’t i specifically tell you NOT to play softball and take it easy for awhile???”

“b-but-...”

“and now someone was being a big dummy and then dISLOCATED her thumb and she’s made ME run all the way to the field because she’s tOO scared to pop back her dislocated thumb and wants ME to do it for her!!!!!”

you are Insufferable

u really are

he can’t help but feel agitated ok

he’s just so stressed and he almost got a near-flunking store at the calc test awhile ago and he studied!!! he studied for THREE hours and he was about three wrong answers away from being failed!!!!

meanwhile you sleep at that class and you bARely even studied because last night you were just calling him up to ask if you were down drinking some shots with you and then yOU pass????

also also!! his basketball coach has been extra tough on him lately and he isn’t even doing anything wrong!! he passes the ball and how come it’s HIS fault that the one he’s passed it to doesn’t make a score???

how is it hIS fault that this guy was an utter dUMBASS

on top of that, the pit crew training is taking a massive toll on his body and this particular time,, it’s jungkook’s only few breaks

and you just hAD to dislocate your thumb and be scared shitless of popping it back

hold on

are you uh.,...

are you crying

jungkook’s flustered a tON because uhHHh he’s not exactly the best person when it comes to these things

there was one time when jungkook added so much wasabi underneath your california maki to the point that you were CRYING

and sue him he didn’t know what to do

everyone in the restaurant thought the two of you were a couple and now there’s a LOT of angry stares aimed towards jungkook and that makes him sweat a little

that one buff guy who’s chopping the squid even sTopped what he was doing and that makes kook audibly gulp

jungkook was a tiny bit intimidated and so he did the next big thing

panickedly threw the packet of tissues to your face :D

lmao he’s gotten a lot better since then

“okay, okay, i’m sorry for yelling at you :((“

god he should know better

i mean you are in physical pain already and you don’t need him yelling at you now, do you??

after all jungkook did have this one big splinter on his thumb when he was doing something stupid aND although you were angry and amused, you didn’t yell at him

ok fair

he’s setting his things down and he had to coax you to give him back your hand because u retracted it when he yelled

“on the count of three, okay?? one, two....”

you’re already wincing and jungkook has to be swift with this when he doesn’t want to prolong your pain

aLTHOUGH this reminds him of how you have to distract him from the pain when he has you pluck out some of his eyebrow hair so they don’t form a unibrow

“two.... you’re still not — two.,..., you’re the one who’s supposed to adjust not me...,.,. t- yO IS THAT MIN YOONGI???”

“wHAT WHERE-“

pOp!!!!!

that shit hUrts

min yoongi is an especially good trigger point for you because jungkook, cannot, and especially cannot stress to how you have a crush on that guy sO bad

he’s a racer ok sure

ehhhh his skills are so-so

honestly he doesn’t even know if this yoongi guy is actually great at racing,,, maybe it’s just his family name that gets him where he’s at ya know....

“don’t joke with me like that! i’m telling you, jungkook — one day i’ll work with min yoongi.”

he snorts at that as he’s holding your hand up, checking to see if there’s any bruising or the sort

he wants to make sure nOw that you’re okay and not have anything else pop up later because he doesn’t want you ruining his alone time again

“yeah. mhmmm. sure you will.”

uGh where would you be now without jungkook

what was LIFE before jungkook

you’re that grateful for him

jungkook’s been avoiding you a liTTLE and you’ve been noticing it but you just didn’t prod into it

the dish was that he thinks he likes you

it’s just this roulette going on in his head

do i like y/n OR have i just been so starved from affection and companionship that i immediately the nearest person to me as someone i love?????

aha it’s the second option :D

you and jungkook fight a lot tho that’s no surprise

it could be over on the most stupid things ever for discourse and well as sensitive as you were, jungkook was even mORE sensitive

one time he cried when not only you gave him the silent treatment, but also literally pretended that he was iNVISIBLE and even got some people in on it

yeth it was a petty fight over stubornness and a sorta petty solution bUt it did give you some peace

what made it even worse was because you befriended these new guys!!!

the kim line!!! jin and namjoon and taehyung were quite the eye-catching trio over on their department and you kNow that jungkook was annoyed by them

actually they were very likeable and jungkook’s just annoyed at them for no apparent reason

and when you ignore jungkook for the whole day AND have the kim line over on your lunch table,,,

when kook offers you a tray of the best batches for your cafeteria food and even a fresh cold carton of chocolate milk,,,,

then pretend you didn’t even hEAR him nor SEE him when he was holding up the tray for you,,,

he absolutely cries because w-why are you :(((( i-i-ignoring me :(((( please d-don’t :((((

fighting and crying has been at an all-time low ever since that particular one

he was so frustrated that he didn’t even notice jin patting his back and he bARELY even knows jungkook

namjoon’s acting as a shield so no one could see that this guy was absolutely Losing it

taehyung’s trying his best to shove some tissues underneath jungkook so he could wipe them down

but this time

tHIS time

it’s jungkook who doesn’t know what to do

it’s you who’s crying so painfully that he’s sure not even the kim line could help try and fix

“he’s just sO — yoongi is uNBEARABLE!!”

oh it’s him again huh

jungkook wasn’t sure at first on how he’d process the news that yeah sure the two of you were the ones chosen to be the victors of the program

but it meant that the two of you were gonna work for different teams and now that just doesn’t make any sense.,...

sure he’s happy because he gets to work for jung hoseok!!!! the racer he’s in awe with and thank god because he didn’t want to work with-

ew he’s shuddering

min yoongi

yOU’RE the one who’s working for him and well!! you should be happy!!! why are you CRYING

jungkook was so nervous meeting hoseok for the first time

he wanted to please everyone so bad it wasn’t even funny :’)

he’s bought four boxes of donuts for his fellow pit crew members alone

hoseok was special special

he gets his OWN dozen and on top of that, kook even made him a crepe cake

from s c r a t c h

that was the most time-consuming jungkook’s ever spent in making food and he is pOsitive that he doesn’t ever want to subject himself to that again in his life

( with the exception for jung hoseok of course hehe )

jungkook’s kinda burnt himself on the pan atleast three times and he was a sweaty mess by the end of cooking it because again

wHO has the time to make crepe cakes????

deadass even bought a lil cooler with him just because he wants to impress his boss even more :)))

:))) tiny lil ice cream cups :)))

“hi!! nice to meet you, i’m hoseok!! why are you holding tHAT big of a bag??”

jungkook was starstruck for sure because wow jung hoseok was kIND???

normally being famous and being kind don’t exactly belong in the same sentence

but uHHhh his idol is right here in front of him being polite and cool and not coming off as snobbish??? wow

“for you, sir — uH sir jung?? uHm-...”

“oH! no, no-...”

“ho — sir???”

hoseok was just meant to tell him that it’s cool to drop the sir thing because he’s working with him not for him

poor kook was so nervous that he called his idol a hoe :(((

“aH, calm down!! it’s okay!! lol you seem cool anyway!!! you can just call me hobi-...”

that sounds SO precious omg

jungkook was about to bow again for the nth time but then hobi over here added something to his sentence

“... -hyung”

bROTHER??

now listen

hobi doesn’t have a brother in his family and gOd something about this younger guy in front of him,,,

he’s read jungkook’s forms and he’s younger than him and he’s iNTIMIDATINGLY large but he just looks so innocent y’know

it reminds him of nemo in a big vast ocean but maybe that’s just because he watched finding nemo last night and was emotional

but look!!! jungkook!!!! he wants to protecc this guy from the world and he looks so eager too!!!!

if you squint hard enough u could see jungkook’s fists in his sides clenching from being so happy

anyway

“hey, hey. c’mon, don’t cry now you’re gonna get uGly!!!!”

okay that did not help

jungkook’s rubbing circles on your back as you try to recollect what happened awhile ago at work and how yoongi was an absolute asshole

he’s tough on you and you don’t know why!!!

on top of that, your crew chief jimin is aLSO tough on you and you don’t know why either and it’s just!!!! why does everyone hate me!!!!! when i am just!!!!! bREATHING!!!!!

“want me to put in a good word for you for hobi-hyung? he could pull some strings then work for him instead... with me..... the people are a LOT nicer too...”

hobi knows about jungkook’s friendshio with you and he wasn’t really bothered to how his pit crew member is best friends with a pit crew member for his main rival :D not really :D

in fact he was even endeared!!! asked a lot of questions too because jungkook hOW do you contain yourself?? you’re so competitive and you’re not even the oNE who’s racing between us two???

“oh that’s easy hyung!!! y/n and i just kinda trashtalk each other for every game, then on free days we’re all cool!! :D”

“is that.... is that healthy..,.,.”

hobi wants to take you under his wing if that was possible

your contract and perhaps min yoongi are the only variables stopping you

he’s never said this to anyone but he dID make a semi-empty joke to yoongi once that y/n will also be working for him next season before he could even blink

and yoongi normally looks stoic but hobi swears that he must’ve flipped a switch aha :D

he looked sO infuriated and angry at the mention of your name and “working for me” that he actually thought yoongi would lunge at him

“it’s okay i guess :(( don’t wanna give up just yet :((“

“mHmmm okay whatever you say, sport :))”

jungkook praises you a lot for your dedication because if that was him?? he would’ve bitch-slapped yoongi in a second and quit right then and there!!

he cares for you!!! a lot!!! no one could ever take up your spot as his emotional support shoulder

he’s perfectly content with his job that he’s in!!!

hobi teaches him about things he’s never known before

practical life lessons too!!!

jungkook’s now equipped with the knowledge of how to make bread taste like french toast wITHOUT even making it like french toast

he now knows how to drift!!! like aCTUALLY drift!!! :D

hobi even taught him some tips about making the best use out of your car’s gas and how to nOT cower when it’s blinking that you’re about to run out

aHA jungkook’s still a little bit panicked whenever he sees the light blinking but then he’d remember hobi in his mind looking at him dead-straight

“you’re one of the buffest guys i’ve ever known, and you’re rattled at a tiny light blinking at you?”

you could still go for 50 km tOps with a blinking gas notice on!!! you’re nOT gonna believe jung hoseok the racer??

sigh

jungkook may be content with his job rn

but of course he’s still looking out for you :D

you’re much happier and giggly these days,,, yoongi and his character development being the causes for it

but every now and then aha :D

jungkook likes to relish over the fact that yeah yoongi may be over him in terms of seniority :) but that’s hIS best friend that he’s dating :)

he may just want to spook the guy sometimes

yoongi’s minding his business as he brings over lunch to kim kradle again, chopping up your cheesy tonkatsu for u when he makes the mistake of lifting his eyes

jungkook’s casually munching on his own meal that yoongi’s aLSO bought for him :D giving the older guy a thumbs-up and it makes yoongi smile

right before when jungkook’s eyes flicker from him and to you and his thumb is nOW resting daintily on his neck as he wiggles his eyebrows

g-gulp

yoongi will take care of you for sURE

36 notes · View notes

spacedoutwrites · 4 years

Text

the past will be the past (but the future is brighter than any flashback)

This is my @irondadficexchange fic for the lovely @iamirondad 🎉🎉🎉

The prompt I chose to use was Peter gets hurt on patrol. The title of this fic comes from the song January White by Sleeping at Last.

Hope you enjoy!

Post-endgame, Tony saved the world and survived. Life is finally getting back to normal. Peter goes out on patrol and everything is fine, until it's not.

Read on AO3

“Dang.” Peter muttered.

Everything had been going fine, great actually.

It was a few months after everyone returned from their five year disappearance and things were finally getting settled down. Thanks to Doctor Strange, Tony was starting to get back on his feet after wielding the gauntlet. It hadn't been easy, but he was determined to get back to normal, or as close as he could get. Peter and May had a new apartment in Queens, school would start soon, and Spider-Man was finally patrolling again.

But now, it was only Peter’s third afternoon back on the streets and there was already a knife in his thigh.

Admittedly, he had been a little distracted (maybe things hadn't been quite as great as Peter wanted to believe). Putting the suit back on had been harder than he expected it to be. The first few times he tried, he hadn’t been able to put it on at all. Anxiety and fear plagued him. The feeling of crumbling into nothingness, darkness slowly but inevitably consuming him, invaded his thoughts like a dense, unwanted cloud. In his dreams, he watched Tony die over and over and over. The man hadn’t even died in real life, but Peter’s subconscious had decided to play out the worst case scenario repeatedly.

The feeling that the people of New York needed him only heightened his anxiety. All he wanted was to get out there and help people, but he couldn’t, he wasn’t strong enough. The feeling of utter incompetence was paralyzing, shaking him to his core. If he couldn’t be Spider-Man, who was he?

It had taken time, especially time with Tony, for Peter to feel like he was ready to go out again. The nightmares were finally receding, the anxieties lessening. His first two patrols had been mostly uneventful and he had felt great afterward, but for some reason it was different this time.

A guy had stolen some lady’s purse and run off with it. Peter was hot on his heels, hoping he could get the purse back to its rightful owner, and maybe web up the thief while he was at it, but while he was running, Peter’s heart rate had sped up more than usual. His senses tingled, something felt wrong, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He ignored the feeling as he caught up to the purse snatcher, but that turned out to be a big mistake.

The man turned as Peter grabbed his shoulder, immediately plunging the knife Peter hadn’t noticed into his thigh.

As Peter stumbled back, the man continued running, turning down an alley and out of sight.

“Dang,” Peter muttered, looking down at his right leg. The suit was already turning a darker shade of red. He shot a web up the nearest building and swung himself onto the roof.

He wanted to go after the attacker, but his vision was starting to get blurry, his head starting to spin. The stab wound wasn’t that bad, right? He plopped down unceremoniously on the ground, careful not to disturb the knife that was still in his leg. The pain and the fuzziness reminded him of Thanos and the stones and the gauntlet and that stupid planet and watching the people around him turn to dus-

“Incoming call from Tony Stark,” Karen said, interrupting Peter’s spiraling thoughts.

“Dang,” Peter said again, face scrunching up as a wave of dizziness rolled through him. “Decline the call.”

“I’m afraid he’s bypassing my control,” Karen said. Before she could say anything else, the call went through.

“Peter?” Tony’s worried voice rang in his ears. “Are you okay, kid?”

Peter opened his mouth to answer, but he felt like he couldn’t breathe in enough air, so he gasped instead.

“Peter?” Tony’s voice was growing louder and more concerned. “Can you answer me? What’s going on?”

Peter gasped again, finally getting enough air. “I’m fine,” he said, his voice rising about an octave higher than usual. “Just a little accident, everything’s fine.”

“I got a notification from your suit that said it was punctured by a knife,” Tony said, sounding completely unconvinced of Peter’s answer.

“Yeah…” Peter started. “But I’ll be fine, I’m sure it’ll heal up real quick.”

“Absolutely not,” Tony said sternly, “get to the tower now.”

Peter’s breathing was still irregular and labored, “I would,” he said between gasps, “but I think I’m having a panic attack or something.” He paused, “I- I think I’m just gonna lay here for a little while.”

“I’m sending a suit,” Tony said, his voice still agitated.

“Oh, you really don’t have to,” Peter said, “I’ll be fine in a minute.”

“Shut up Parker, the suit’s already on its way.”

Peter pulled his mask off so he could breathe more easily. His chest still felt unusually tight, his throat constricted. What was wrong with him? This wasn’t exactly the first time something had gone awry while he was on patrol. He’d been shot, stabbed, knocked out, pretty much every trick in the book, but he could usually walk it off. This was different. There was a sense of dread and panic lurking somewhere inside of him. He felt as though, at any moment, he would crumble again, floating away, just dust in the wind.

At that mental image, he gasped again, tears were starting to gather in his eyes. He heard something approaching, but he was still laying on the roof, pinned down by his own intrusive thoughts.

“Hey, Pete,” he heard Iron Man’s voice, the outline of the suit coming into view. “I’m going to get you back to the tower, okay?”

Peter didn’t respond, everything was blurring around him again.

“Peter!” Iron Man’s voice sounded upset, almost like he was dying again.

The pain that blossomed from Peter’s leg was suddenly amplified. I’m dying. Was all he could think. Tony’s right there, but I’m dying. It was all too familiar. He can’t save me. No one can save me. In his mind, he could imagine the tips of his fingers starting to disintegrate. Please, not again.

He didn’t realize it, but he was sobbing now.

Iron Man gently picked him up and held him close, careful to avoid jostling his leg. He was saying something to Peter, talking quietly to him, but Peter couldn’t seem to understand what he was saying.

“I don’t wanna go, Mr. Stark,” he gasped.

The suit stopped talking at that, and after a moment they took off from the roof, not flying too fast, but getting Peter back to the tower, back to Tony, as quickly as possible.

When they landed on top of the recently re-acquired Stark Tower, Tony was waiting, Helen Cho by his side.

Tony hurried over to Peter, who was still being held by the suit.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Tony said quickly, cupping Peter’s face in his hands. “You’re going to be okay bud, everything’s going to be just fine, I’ve got you.”

Peter took a shuddering breath, tears still streaking down his face. He let out an involuntary cry, unable to calm himself down.

Tony’s thumb gently wiped at Peter’s cheek. He ran a hand through the boy’s sweaty hair. “We’re going to take good care of you, Pete, your leg will be all better in no time. We have to get you down to the med bay now.”

Tony held onto Peter’s hand as they headed to the elevator, the Iron Man suit still carrying the boy.

Helen injected Peter with pain meds first, a dose strong enough for him to pass out within a few minutes. Under Tony’s watchful eye, she removed the blade from Peter’s thigh, cleaning and stitching up the wound before she left the meds and Peter’s advanced healing to take care of the rest.

Tony stayed in the room while Peter slept, going through the footage from Peter’s suit, trying to figure out what went wrong.

Peter’s frightened cries stabbed at his heart, reminding him too of the worst day of everyone’s lives. “ I don’t wanna go, Mr. Stark” echoed around in his mind.

After a couple of hours, Peter started awake, a frenzied look in his eyes.

Tony was by his side in a heartbeat. “You’re safe, Pete,” he said. “Everything’s okay.”

Peter looked around the room frantically until his eyes settled on Tony. He relaxed, laying back down on the bed with a relieved sigh.

“How do you feel?” Tony asked carefully.

“I’m really tired,” Peter said, rubbing at his eyes.

Tony nodded, “the meds really wiped you out.” After a moment, he ventured further, “what happened out there?”

Peter’s brow furrowed, “I don’t know,” he sat up gingerly. “I started out doing my usual thing. I helped a cat that was stuck in a tree, I stopped someone from breaking into a car, you know, what I always do. But then I went after this purse-snatcher and something felt wrong, but I didn’t know what, and then I wasn’t really paying attention, and then the guy stabbed me and ran away.”

Tony leaned forward in his seat, “did you figure out what was wrong?”

Peter shook his head. “I guess I was sensing the knife, but that didn’t really seem like the problem. It was the first time my senses were warning me that I was in danger like that since… well since I died.”

Tony swallowed hard. “That’s why you had a panic attack.”

“Yeah,” Peter said sheepishly. “I’ve felt it in my dreams plenty of times, but this felt so much like I was going to disappear again that it freaked me out.”

“That would freak me out too,” Tony said. “It did freak me out.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Peter said, sounding discouraged. “I thought I was ready to be Spider-Man again, but at the first sign of trouble I flipped out.”

“It’s totally normal to feel that way,” Tony reassured him. “It can take a long time to recover from something traumatic like that.”

“I know,” Peter sighed, “but I’ve been sitting around long enough. I just want to get out there and do something, start helping people again. I don’t want the past to stop from doing stuff now.”

Tony nodded, “I know how you feel. After Loki and his little army invaded New York, I felt like I was never going to be normal again. Any thought of aliens or wormholes or almost dying would set me off like nothing else. I didn’t feel safe anymore and I let fear control me for a really long time.”

“What did you do?” Peter asked. “How did you feel safe again?”

Tony paused. “I guess I learned to live one day at a time,” he finally said. “I realized that I was taking the present for granted. The past is something that already happened and you just have to look to the future, let it pull you in, away from your past, away from all of the crappy stuff and into something new and exciting and beautiful.”

“Or you could just discover time travel and go back and fix it,” Peter suggested mischievously.

Tony reached out and messed with Peter’s hair. “Only for you, kid. Overly sentimental speeches aside, I just want you to know that it’s okay if you’re not ready to go out as Spider-Man yet. That doesn’t mean you aren’t Spider-Man anymore or anything like that, it just means that you need to take a little extra time to recover.”

Peter nodded. “I think I’ll take another week or two off, see how it goes from there.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Tony said. “We have to fix your suit now anyway.”

Peter laughed, “that’s true.”

“I just finished some upgrades on the Iron Spider,” Tony added. Once we get you in that, you won’t have to worry about silly little knives anymore.”

Peter smiled, “thanks, Tony.”

“For what?” Tony asked, looking mildly confused.

Peter shrugged, “for looking out for me. It’s really nice to know you’ll always have my back.”

Tony couldn’t help but grin. “Of course, kid.” He pulled Peter into a tight hug. “Always.”

#irondadficexchange #irondad fic exchange #irondad #spiderson #peter parker #tony stark #injured peter parker #panic attack #comfort #fanfiction #endgame fix

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okimargarvez · 4 years

Text

FIRST DATE

Original title: First date.

Prompt: Luke asks Pen a date in a particular way.

Warning: none.

Genre: romantic, fluff.

Characters: Penelope Garcia, Luke Alvez, Phil Brooks, Roxy.

Pairing: Garvez.

Note: oneshot 70 in Garvez collection.

Legend: 🐶.

Song mentioned: Persone silenziose, Luca Carboni feat Tiziano Ferro.

GARVEZ STORIES

Note: this is not about episode 15x10. I written it weeks before seeing that moment. It was just a dream (one of the little about garvez) I made.

FIRST DATE

There are some silent people, there are timid presences hidden among people... but silence makes noise, the eyes have an amplifier... those eyes that have always been used to listening...

Hearing his cell phone vibrate, for a moment Luke fears that they have a new case. He looks at the display and smiles. -Alvez.- he gasps, trying to catch his breath. Roxy runs around him, agitated by the unexpected break.

The friend on the other end of the line chuckles. -Hey, brother, how are you?- he caresses the dog, calming him down. -Am I bother you?- he sighs.

-Never! I was running with Rox!- she barks, greeting Phil in her own way.

-You really have to find a girl, Luke.- he lovingly scolds him. Latin smiles inside himself. I'm just working on it. -About this... Did I mention my physiotherapist, Lisa? She's very pretty. I was wondering... would you like to have a double date? She, Penelope, you and I.- Luke's brain freezes on hearing that name. The heart starts pumping blood again at a speed not recommended. -What do you say? Hey, man, are you still there?- he blinks several times to recover.

-Yes, yes, I’m, but... What does your proposal mean? Do you know? Is it so obvious?- he blushes, but at the same time he is unable to get that grimace of absolute joy out of his face that appears every time he accidentally thinks of her.

-I understand what? Oh, wait. I hoped I saw wrong... You like her, don't you?- Luke runs his tongue over his lips, sighs in a teenage way.

-Yeah, huh, in fact... I asked her out. Or...- he scratches his head, nervous. -Technically I wrote her a letter. So, I don't know if you can consider it…- he recognizes Phil's exclamation.

-A letter? You mean paper letter? Only you can do such an old-fashioned thing!- he struggles to stop laughing. -Let me know how it goes, heartbreaker!- he is about to hang up, but he understands that he still has a joke in store. -If it goes bad, remember that there is someone else interested, not too far away...- Luke shakes his head. He doesn’t have time to put the phone in the pocket, that it starts ringing again.

He answers without looking. -Any other ridiculous joke, Brooks?- but he soon realizes it's not Phil.

-Alvez, we have a case and it's pretty bad. How long does it take you to get here?-

People who can't speak, who put their thoughts in order, people full of fear that someone might know their little and big... contradictory thoughts!

Although not many are convinced of this, Penelope is capable of being a professional person. That's why she notices the envelope just beyond her office door. But she decides not to consider it until the case is resolved. And so, she does.

Leaning against the backrest, she yawns. Her eyes fall on that envelope, still sealed, intact. She looks more carefully at the only writing. Her name. Penelope. She recognizes the handwriting before opening it. She closes her eyes, thinking that when she opens them again, she will understand that it was a hallucination.

Instead it is always there. She starts reading.

Penelope,

I can't imagine what you're thinking right now. In fact, she has no idea what she should expect from the continuation. For this reason, she decides to go ahead. Maybe I should have started by calling you Garcia, like the rest of the team. But you are not only Garcia, for me, and especially when I think of you outside of work.

Here, now her head is definitely confused. She has to read the sentence a second time. It's the same. It is always there. She's not just Garcia for him. What else, then? I hope you are still reading it. I wrote you this letter instead of an email or a message, because I had too many things to say and I hope that a little of what I feel has been transmitted to the sheet and that you can believe me. He managed to snatch a laugh from her and he is not even physically here. She finds herself stroking those sentences with her fingers. He is really so sweet... And suited to his style. A cold email could never give her heart pounding. I'd like to go out to dinner one evening with you. She jumps, risking falling off the chair. Luke's next sentence scares her even more. He seems to read her mind. Yes, I don't mean as colleagues or friends at O'Keefe. I mean a real full-blown appointment. Considering how they have always been going around the issue, without ever taking an effective step that leaves no room for doubt... well, yes, it is quite strange. Romantic. Intimate. Just the two of us. He continues to puzzled her, every word he adds.

In case you haven't died from a giggle attack now, I'd like to try to show you that it's all true. For once he hasn't guessed her reaction at all, quite the opposite. Laugh? She is not thinking about it at all. No, rather, should this irregularity in her heart beat worry her? Is she by chance having a heart attack? Should she call someone? I have been imagining that moment for far too long (more than I would admit). Oh shit, if he goes on this log, she'll really have to call an ambulance. I see you as if you were now in front of me. I see your extraordinary beauty in every nuance. Holy crap, holy crap. Her extraordinary beauty? Was he by chance drugged when he started writing this letter? Does he really think this of her? So, this is the reason why he stares at her for so long even in the least indicated moments. And I see myself, awkwardly, with my heart rumbling in my ears and sweaty hands, forcing me to ring the bell. And listening with tension to every noise coming from beyond the door. And your steps. He is a cursed poet, a director, an artist, because he has managed to show what he has described as almost real, a film, an anticipation... a spoiler aimed at the future. And then I imagine your smile a little uncertain, as if you had feared that in the end it would turn out to be a joke. Damn profilers; how can you play with them equally? I would make a compliment, you would thank me by touching my arm, I would reach to heaven. In Heaven just for a light touch on the arm? She doesn’t dare, really, Penelope doesn’t dare to imagine what effect it would then have if she accidentally came into contact with a slightly more pushed area... like the chest. I don't want to irk you; I'll spare you the rest of the evening. Irk you; here's the mystery solved, it's a Reid joke! But she doesn't believe it, never for a second. I will just tell you that I am sure I would have a fantastic time. Just because it would be with you. Damn bastard, what creature, no matter the gender, could decline an offer presented in this way? Without feeling like an idiot.

Because you are this. When I am close to you, it is as if the words no longer want to collaborate with me and form sentences of complete meaning... She knows the feeling perfectly, bro. But at the same time, I'm fine, you make me feel good, otherwise I wouldn't want to spend so much time with you. Well, it has its own logic. When love is logical? And why she thought that damn word?

I don't want to tell you what I feel for you loud and clear. I'd rather do it face to face; however cowardly I may be. And you're smart enough (actually a genius) to read between the lines. Smart enough, he says. And she knows it's true, but she doesn't dare to make assumptions. Lie, she already did. She did so whenever their eyes chained themselves for more than four seconds. But does anyone know this rule? Luke definitely doesn’t. Over four seconds means that the person who is looking at you wants to do something more with you, besides staring at you. No, not just a kiss. Of course.

I look forward to your reply, with trepidation and I hope I haven't ruined everything. For me, even just your friendship is important, but I could no longer live without knowing the truth, without getting involved. In her heart she wasn’t convinced that he would ever be able to take the first step.

Wherever and wherever you are, I wish you a wonderful day,

Luke

She emits so many sighs that she looks like a teapot about to explode, or a steam train. Has she really read those beautiful (wonderful, other than beautiful) words addressed to her by the Newbie (which for some time now can no longer be considered such)? No, she must have misunderstood, misinterpreted something. Instead it's all there, black on white: Luke Alvez wants to go out with her, a real date, romantic, intimate. He has swept away all doubts and loopholes. And now it's up to her, to answer him.

When was the last time she picked up one of her colorful and oddly shaped pens to do anything other than close a call with the team?

Okay, come on, it can't be that hard. He exposed his soul with her. The least she can do is try to return the favor.

Luke didn’t expect an answer so soon, on the contrary, it would be more legitimate that he had not imagined to get a real reaction from his blonde colleague, only... he needed to get rid of that weight. He still felt good. He regretted to not meeting her before returning home after the case was over. It was strange, but it had already happened that she wasn't there waiting for them.

He would lie if he denied he has thinking about it until his brain went out. Or that it wasn’t his first thought when he woke up, while shaving with a little more attention than usual.

Yet he can't help but feel some fibrillation down the path to his desk. And when he sees that envelope on the smooth surface, he reacts more or less like Garcia. At first, he believes it is a projection of his mind. He must touch it to accept that it is a concrete object belonging to this dimension. Penelope imitated him in a sublime way. His name, only four letters, seems almost a drawing, traced by her fantastic hands. He tries very hard to hold back the cry of joy that has gone up to his throat. It may also contain a negative response; but he doesn’t even consider this possibility. Usually he is not a positive person, but this time... He looks around. There is practically nobody, here there are the positive sides of get there early. So how long has that envelope been there? Did she leave it here the night before? Or is Penelope already hidden in her office?

A lot of unnecessary questions. He opens it and instantly his nostrils are struck by a heavenly perfume. Gingerly, he brings it close to his nose. Yes, it is hers. Oh jeez, will he come out alive in the end? He takes a quick look. The first thing he notices is that it's much shorter than his. But didn't someone say that the synthesis is the maximum understanding of the text? Maybe he's confusing the areas.

He starts reading, calmly.

Luke,

but he bursts already after the first word, which is none other than his name again. He must close his eyes and press his fingers on his temple, to achieve a mental balance stable enough to be able to continue. wow, a letter, what... Anachronistic thing. And somehow, I must admit, fascinating. Never as much as she is, but the bottom line is that... she liked it! A good start. It is useless to dance around it: you completely puzzled me. I confess that I find it hard to believe that you want to go out with me as... As an interested man. Why does it have to be so complicated to accept? She thinks she is not live up to him? What nonsense! If anything, the exact opposite! She could have any one man, doesn't she know? But he hopes she wants only him. He wants to be the lucky chosen one, more than anything else in the world. But I decided to get involved, as you did. It seems to me a story a bit too elaborate to be a joke. Yeah, elaborate… why does he fall even deeper for her every word? And I suspected that there was a romantic under the beard and the hunter's skin. Caught, Alvez. Never been so happy to be discovered by a girl, since elementary school, when he played hide and seek. Are you glad I used your same method? And also one of my favorite pens; enjoy the perfume, and consider it an appetizer for that day... He doesn't resist, he tastes the aroma a second time, letting his lungs fill themselves with it, closing his eyes like a moron, hearing Garcia's voice in his head that repeats the last sentence. An appetizer. It is so erotic that... he is happy to sitting with the lower half of the body under the desk. And by the way: you didn't indicate a date. Oh shit, she's right! How could he have been so stupid? He blushes, cursing himself. Out of the corner of his eye he sees that Matt and Tara are entering. He must hurry to finish the reading.

I wish you and Roxy a good evening, and I apologize you for forgetting Sergio 😉 And, here is a second unforgivable omission. But no, she said the exact opposite. She's giving him a chance. For real.

Your fantastic Penny

Penny. He savors that name on his lips, slowly. Fantastic, she certainly is. He puts the letter in a drawer at random, he doesn't need to see it again, he has already learned it by heart, even if he doesn't have Reid's skills.

Luke proves even bolder than she thought. Taking advantage of the fact that no new cases have arrived, he manages to find a way to send the letter to her the same day. Now that he has received a first green light it is really difficult to refrain.

She could access the video of the camera placed outside her office to watch him put it under her door. But it would be a slightly maniac thing. So, she just picks it up from the floor and opens it with little grace. She reads all in one breath.

Penelope,

I thank you for your magnanimity. Yes, you cannot imagine what pleasure it is for me to can hold a handwritten script by your hands. Do you understand now how hopeless I am? She's starting to get an idea. They are on the same boat. Do you think that a joke would be worth this self-denunciation and humiliation? You're right, for the emotion (and stupidity) I forgot to indicate a date, or maybe I was afraid that you might be scared of it, as if I had already decided everything. Yes, it is a far from remote hypothesis. Unless we will get a case, what you think about tomorrow night? Tomorrow. Tomorrow night. Just over 24 hours from now. She strives to breathe normally. And forgive me if I haven't been able to rely on post delivery times,

your Luke

Hers! Hers! Will he ever really be hers? Her boyfriend. Luke Alvez her boyfriend. It looks like a joke. It seems too real. And it frightens her.

She spends most of the day wondering what is the best way to answer him. She discards another letter because someone would surely notice it as she leaves it on Agent Alvez's desk. A message is too little and an email... Too detached. She wastes time so long that it is the moment to go home.

She is waiting for the elevator, always swimming in indecision. And it is at that moment that fate sets in motion. Luke appears from around the corner. At first, he seems almost frightened to find her there. Then his face melts into a smile. -Hey..- he is unexpectedly shy.

-Hey.- she replies with the same intonation. They look at each other for a few minutes. Weirdly, no one, stranger or part of the team, arrives to interrupt that moment. -Okay.- says Penelope after a century. Luke's eyes widen. She approaches him slowly, and puts her hand on his shoulder. -Okay, Luke, tomorrow is fine.- she whispers, making him shiver. -But you still forgot to indicate a time.- she smiles, going away.

Luke blushes. -Oh, you're right... it’s good 8.00 p.m.? Then you should have enough time to... You know.- she nods.

-It's perfect.- the elevator arrives, he lets her go up first. They are silent throughout the journey. Just before arriving, she approaches him again and places a kiss on his cheek. -Good night, Luke. See you tomorrow.-

The next evening

And suddenly you run away... without saying goodbye. Your eyes go down the stairs... I don't know what they are going to do, if to be moved or to dream... to get angry or to meditate...

Luke manages to hold back anxiety for the first twenty minutes. After another ten he goes into paranoia. Half an hour late seems to him a socially acceptable time to lose his head and call her. The phone rings empty. He waits a few more minutes and tries again. Ring endlessly, until the voice mail goes. Damn, why the hell isn't she picking up? It is on the third call that he completely loses his mind. He presses the repeat button practically without even realizing it. He takes strangely little time to reach thirty; thirty calls.

He doesn't even think for a moment if he should call the police. If something bad happened to her, what could a policeman do more than a federal agent (not on duty)? He drives like a madman to her house; he only went once but he has already memorized the route. Like whatever concerns her. He forces himself to park in a decent way and also to close the car; if someone would steal it, he would certainly be not be very clever, in case he had to take her somewhere, like a hospital... He climbs the stairs three steps at a time. He is already ready to knock down the door, he is mentally preparing himself for the act, when it opens wide and behind it there is her, perfectly healthy, intact, except that she seems very shaken.

He can finally start breathing again. Oxygen enters his lungs violently. -Penelope.- he coughs, as an inevitable consequence.

She just stares at him with terrified eyes. -You gave me... you gave a heart attack!- she puts one of her hands on her chest. Luke notices that she is wearing an open dressing gown that reveals a pajama. Did she prepare for their date or did she never give him a real chance? Did he just delude himself? He intends to get all the answers right now.

After the relief a little anger takes over, transmitted through a pungent irony. -Why, you thought you got rid of me forever?- but he doesn't last long, because she seems really too lost and fragile to be really angry. He already knows the reason for her behavior. He just needs to hear her say it.

-What?- Penelope asks, even more confused. Luke shakes his head.

-Forget it.- but he has a spasmodic need to touch her, any part of the body will be fine. -Why did you ditch me?- he caresses her arm, that thin layer of skin exposed to the outside world, and, surprisingly, she doesn't jump, she doesn't chase him away. -I waited until eleven o'clock.- is a reproach, but he has said it in the lowest and sweetest tone that is available in his vocal range. Penelope looks at him in passing. She doesn’t let her eyes fall into male ones. They are too magnetic. And she is in pajamas. And that's enough to embarrass her. Why does he persist in staying on her doorstep? She sighs, recalling the spirit of the Garcia of the past. The queen of ice. Anything just to get rid of him.

-You and the team wanted to play a trick on me and I ruined your party... I can't say I'm really sorry.- she is an excellent actress, even though she has never been able to exploit these qualities in real, private life... only on a stage. Luke seems to have taken really bad. As if... nope. It doesn't really care. -It's life, sometimes you win, sometimes you lose...- and instead, she seems to be rotten wrong. The man grabs her wrist that a second ago he was gently stroking and drags her dangerously towards him. Now she just can't avoid eye contact. And maybe it's better to not focus on his beautiful mouth.

That is now ranting at her. -What are you talking about?- the tone seems desperate, pained. -I will have called you thirty times and surely your voice mail will be clogged.- in fact it was really so. She didn't believe he would be able to go that far and listen to him beg her to tell him if she was okay, that the rest didn't matter, that he just needed to know that everything was ok... of course he shook her. But not enough to give her the strength to answer and reassure him. Why the hell was she so stupid?

Luke doesn't seem to think this of her, but the blonde continues straight on the road that will lead her to crash and collect the pieces of her heart. -I thought you would get there alone.- the voice, however, is already trembling, and she is wavering and seeking support in the door, rather than in him.

She reads sincerity in his face, yet she is unable to do anything other than boycott her own happiness. -Penelope, let's face it: did you think it was just a joke?- she doesn't nod, nor does she deny. Her eyes speak, confess. -Really? After everything we've written to each other?- a vein in his neck throbs, his face is red and his eyes are shiny. It's the first time she's seen him so furious. And to know that she is the reason... no, it is not at all good.

Even if she tells him exactly the opposite. -You're not cute when you're angry.- she shoots before she can stop it. This is not a thought that first formed in her mind and then was came out from the mouth. No, it born of nowhere.

Luke frowns. He is so puzzled that he lets her go. -What?- and she can no longer deny. She would like to have his arms around her back and his lips on hers. By this time, she could have already gotten it, if she wasn't an idiot and a coward. Never again, she promises. Never repeat the same mistake again.

-I won't take it back.- from now on she will be 100% sincere, even if it means having to suffer. She was never able to protect herself from the feelings that people cause her before Luke Alvez appeared on her radar. Why was everything different with him right away? She already knows the answer to this question too. She looks him straight in the eye. She could so easily fall in love with him... and it probably has already happened. -I said you're not cute when you're angry.- she tries to use a firm, stable tone of voice, even if a samba contest is taking place inside her.

Luke's face darkens. -But I'm not mad at you. I'm... just sad.- he has found a way to make her feel guilty, and almost certainly he is not aware of it. Both his attitude and tone are killing her. -It was so difficult to find the courage to ask you out and...- she interrupts him, practically caught by an electrocution. For a moment she sees him kneeling at his feet. No less insecure than now, despite they having been together for years. Willing to stay with her, even if she were to say no. And she can no longer really continue to doubt.

-Oh God. You really wanted to go out with me.- she starts shaking her head and at the same time her legs melt. Luke promptly holds her up, making her rest on his chest. He sticks his fingers in her blonde strands. Just to get this, the evening cannot be considered a fiasco, for him.

-I still want it.- he whispers. Then he sees her closing her eyes and trying to reach his lips. He barely rejects her, practicing violence against himself. -No, no kisses- Penelope teases him with a lost puppy look, abandoned in a cardboard while it's about to rain -don't look at me like that, don't tempt me, it wouldn't be fair.- he feels a jerk, but he has already waited so long that twenty-four more hours won't make much difference. Quite right? He could convince himself. -I want to do things right, with you.- because she deserves it, that's what he doesn't add. Because he doesn't want too much frenzy to extinguish their flame, even if he doesn't really believe it's possible.

She tickles him on the chest through the layers of cloth. -But between us has there ever been anything normal and ordinary?- she replies promptly. And she's right. Fucking right. Her scent, the same of the letter, clouds his brain. But he holds on.

-But I'd still like to try.- Penelope nods, giving up and contenting herself with embracing him and trying to merge with the male body. -Then, will you blow me off a second time?- it had to be a joke, but she catches the few shades of seriousness in it.

She sighs, touching his neck and catching his eyes. -I can't promise you that I will. I wish I could, but my... fears, sometimes... win and...- Luke nods too, because this is a fight he has often faced, since he met a certain Penelope Garcia, BAU’ computer technician.

He takes her face in his hands. -I hope you just know that on the other side there is a man waiting anxiously and with heavy heart.- the phrase seems too retro and artificial to remain serious. Straight output directly from a nineteenth-century comedy. -Look, I made you laugh, it's already something.- he rests his lips on her forehead. -It's all real, Penelope, you don't have to be afraid you can suffer. Do you believe me?- he feels her nod.

But she understands alone that he also needs to hear it from her voice. -Yes.- even if it's a murmur, just whispered.

Luke smiles. -Well.- he's going to do something again that is against what he really wants. Kissing her, entering her apartment, closing the door with his foot, as they do in the movies and scandalizing Sergio. What would be wrong with that? -Now I go home, I have to force myself, otherwise I would stay here with you forever.- her eyes are exactly asking him why he shouldn’t. -I put almost all the cards on the table, I think I can't do more.- he comes off with difficulty, it's really a painful action.

For her too. -See you tomorrow, Luke.- she greets him only. But then the man turns, before turning to take the stairs, and then she adds a simple, very small sentence. That changes everything. -I'll miss you!-

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

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