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merakiui · 2 years

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[iv.] ᶜⁱᶜᵃᵈᵃ ᶜⁱᵗʸ

serial killer!jade leech x female!reader cw: mention of mutilation & death chapter iii│chapter iv (you are here)│chapter v

Today’s Schedule: Work from 11-4. Pick up fruit and hedgehog food from the grocery store. Call (Name) and make plans for Saturday. Dinner at 5:30. Check in with Mother at 6. Feed Rosa at 7. Text (Name) at 7:15??? Check email at 8:30 after bath.

“Saturday… Of all the days to agonize over, it’s a Saturday! What do you even do on Saturdays with friends? Cater said you party and drink, but that can’t be the only thing sensible adults do on the weekend.” Riddle paces before the solid-bottomed wire cage that sits comfortably atop his desk. Weary with sleep, his hedgehog blinks at him when he lowers into his chair and holds his head in his hands. “She never listens to me, Rosa. I’ve told her time and time again to submit her application and she always tells me, ‘I’ll do it. I’ll do it. Don’t worry.’ Does she even want to work? If Mother knew she was throwing her future away to work at some dead-end diner at the edge of the world—never mind. It’s not important.”

Rosa tilts her head, nose twitching.

“I’m talking to my hedgehog again…” he mutters, sticking his finger through the bars to pat her head. She leans into his gentle touch. “This is hopeless.”

He glances at the clock on the wall and rises to his feet.

“But job hunting isn’t! We’ll drop it off today. It’s perfect, isn’t it?” Rosa blinks again and Riddle nods to himself, hands situated on his hips. “After work, we’ll go to the aquarium and she can hand it in then. Except in order to get there, I have to actually invite her… I can do that. It’s not as if we haven’t hung out in years. It’ll be completely normal, and she loves the ocean. It’s a good plan.”

Upon spying the image of himself in the vanity mirror, he frowns at the uncertainty it reflects.

“If you were me—which you technically are—you’d invite her in person, wouldn’t you? It’s more polite that way.” The mirror showcases a Riddle dressed in work attire: a red-and-white striped bowling shirt, a red apron, and black slacks. He adjusts the devil horns headband in his hair with a huff and Mirror Riddle reacts in unison. “What am I saying? Reflections and hedgehogs don’t have to worry about these things.”

Sighing, he reaches for his phone and opens his messenger app. He scrolls through every contact, passing unread messages from Trey and Che’nya, one from his mother, and something from another manager at The Devil’s Delight until he finds you. The last time you texted him was shortly after yesterday’s phone call. A small smile tugs at his lips as he reviews the picture you sent him. Backdropped by pink sparkles, a hedgehog holds a pixelated rose between its teeth and beneath it the words Have a Hedgehug are typed in a font so bold and ugly that it nearly tarnishes the adorable nature of the image.

[Riddle] Hedge-hug? I haven’t heard of that one before. It’s humorous. I like it.

[(Name)] thought you might need it after last night :) tell rosa i say hiiiiii

[Riddle] I will and I’ll even enunciate every i you’ve typed.

[(Name)] lol have fun with that

“I never told you,” he says, glancing at Rosa, “but (Name) says hi. I. I. I. I. I… H-How many times did she type ‘I’ again?”

Shaking his head, he scoffs and almost pockets his phone before it buzzes with a new notification. He taps on it and his heart squeezes at the words.

[Manager] The pair on opening shift informed me that (Name) hasn’t shown up yet. Will wait until your shift begins before calling someone in.

And an hour later from the same contact, a new message sprouts: Call Cater in. It’s been a while and she still hasn’t clocked in. We only have one person who showed up for the 10-3 shift. We’ll need both of you for today.

Riddle stares at the screen for so long that he begins to register the static buzzing in his ears. I’ll be there soon. I’ll try contacting (Name) in the meantime, he writes as he slips his shoes on and strides towards the door. He spares one final look at the cage. Rosa has fit herself into the ceramic pot positioned in the far corner, relaxing in the cool shadows provided by the floral print pottery.

“Have a good rest, Rosa. I’ll see you later.”

Phoning Cater, he opens with a simple line: “You’re needed at work.”

“Let me get this straight,” Cater says as he leans against the counter while his clones diligently flit about the diner like monarch butterflies, taking orders and delivering meals with cheery grins. “(Name) didn’t come to work, she’s not answering your calls or texts, and you think this is weird because…”

“Because it isn’t like her.”

“Right. ‘Kay, but you do realize she could’ve woken up late or started feeling sick and couldn’t call in. It’s not super weird.”

“It is,” Riddle insists as he furiously scrubs a porcelain plate clean of grease and ice cream. “She would’ve found a way to notify someone.”

“Okay. Or—and hear me out—she’s like me and has a terrible hangover and doesn't wanna come into work like some people.” He chuckles at the nasty look Riddle sends his way. “I’m serious. You really couldn’t have called someone else in? I mean, I know I’m a hot commodity who can totes ace serving, but I’d like to work when I’m not feeling like I just crawled out of my grave. Ya feel me?”

“It’s the middle of the week. Why, pray tell, were you drinking?”

And you’re not even working, he thinks, glancing at the clones as they fulfill his duties while the real one stands on the sidelines, scrolling through his phone as usual.

He looks up briefly to acknowledge him, answering, “Lils and Kalim came in. Oh! Speaking of them, what do you think of Cicada City?”

“What? Cater, this has nothing to do with—”

“Just gimme your thoughts. What do you think when you hear the words ‘Cicada City’?”

Riddle inhales a noisy breath, sets the plate in the drying rack, and pivots to face Cater. “Cities are just as loud as cicadas in the summer. There. Happy?”

“Bingo! You’re right on the money!”

“Then why’re you asking?”

“Because that’s our band name. We were going to go with CLK, which you pronounce like ‘click,’ but it’s without the extra letters. But we thought Cicada City sounded cooler.”

“It certainly has character…”

“Right? Just imagine: I’m on a stage, the spotlight’s shining down so bright it’s nearly blinding, and I grab the mic and shout, ‘We’re Cicada City!’ You’d totally go cray for Cay. It’s trendy, rolls off the tongue, and has alliteration.”

“Since when have you been in a band? This is the first time I’m hearing about this.”

“Since last night.”

“Ah, of course. It’s a children’s band. How nice.”

“No need to be a hater, skater.” He grins. “We didn’t do much with the club after graduation. We still played every now and then and we’ve composed a bunch of songs since. So what if we aren’t established IRL? We’re basically doing numbers on Magicam.”

“With what? Scraps of sound?”

“When did you start teething?” Riddle scowls and he raises his hands in defeat. “Yeah, yeah. We’re not official. But we will be! And since Lils can’t do sunshine, we’re planning to be a nocturnal band. It’ll be our own charm point as a trio!”

“Good luck with—no, stop. We’re getting sidetracked. Did (Name) say anything about skipping her shift?

“Is someone worried? That’s cute.” Waving his hand through the air dismissively, he adds, “Relax. (Name) had a dinner date. I wouldn’t be surprised if it ended in drinks and a blackout. She’s probably too dead to open her eyes.”

Fixated on his phone yet again, he taps away.

“A…dinner date?”

She’s dating?

“Yep. Yep.”

Of course she is. Why wouldn’t she be? She’s a great woman.

Riddle reaches for a banana split dish and empties its contents into the trash bin. “And the dinner date was last night?”

What am I thinking? Stay focused!

“Yep. Look, it’s not a big deal. She’ll call later today once she’s woken up.”

“Cater.”

“What’s up, buttercup?”

“Put your phone away before you lose your head.”

“Aw. Bummer. I was just admiring our devilish sweetheart. Her account really needs work, but her photos are super cute!” He slides his phone into his pocket and smiles. “So what’s up?”

“Does she usually go on dates the night before her shifts?”

Cater holds Riddle’s inquiring stare, allowing silence to build between them. It’s quickly swept up in the diner’s sea of chatter, and he lifts his shoulders in a limp shrug. “You think she’d dig Cicada City?” he finally asks, prompting an irritated groan from Riddle.

He drops the glassware into the soapy basin and points an accusatory finger in his direction. “(Name) could be missing and the only thing you’re worried about is a band that hasn’t even existed for twenty-four hours!”

“You’re being way too paranoid right now. Chill.”

Maybe it’s nothing, he thinks, retrieving the fallen ice cream dish. If it was a simple date and she did drink too much, she could definitely be hungover like Cater says. I wish she’d tell me these things beforehand, though.

“Is she normally like this?”

“Riddle, she’s fine.”

“Who did she meet for the date? Where did they go?”

“Those are great questions. I’ll let you ask the dirty dishes while I make this next order.”

Riddle wrings excess water from the dishrag with a frown. “Do you know who…” He trails off and clears his throat. “Did she tell you anything about who she went with? Where they work? What they’re like?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

Cater’s grin rivals that of Che’nya’s. Wide and cheek-splitting, it’s a smile that withholds an arsenal of carefully kept secrets. Knowing how Cater can be, Riddle supposes he knows more than he’s willing to tell. He’s always been very selective with his lexicon. Even when they were in school, he’d pick and choose compliments and topics to discuss amongst his peers as if they were portions at a tea party and only a few of the poisoned sweets were safe to consume.

Years later, having observed his scripted nonchalance once again, he realizes Cater is still an actor trapped in his own eternal play, destined to read prepared lines until he can admit his genuine feelings. He’s not quite sure where you fit into this picture, but there must be something he doesn’t want to divulge if he’s guarding the truth behind his pearly whites.

While Riddle is aware that prying is unbecoming, he can’t shake the thought that something is dreadfully, horribly, positively wrong. It’s a stone that’s weighed heavy in the pit of his stomach ever since you dragged him down to the shoreline and the both of you stumbled upon a mutilated corpse. Sometimes, if he closes his eyes and attempts to settle his heart rate, he sees the dead man floating on a crimson current. Even now the image invades his mind and when he glimpses the muddied water in the sink, dishes piled on top of one another like an uneven glass castle, he envisions waterlogged innards bursting from the gaping hole in the man’s chest.

“If she doesn’t text us by the end of our shift, we’re making a report,” he blurts, tearing his eyes away just as Cater returns from the freezer, three scoops of ice cream sitting piled in a dish.

He gazes at him, searching for an indication of a joke or a lie. “Oh, you’re serious.”

“Of course I’m serious!”

“Will it honestly make you feel better if we do that?”

“Yes.” He inhales a steadying breath. “Yes, it will.”

“Then we’ll do that.” Cater hums while decorating the ice cream with swirls of whipped cream and multicolored sprinkles. After handing the finished dessert to a clone, he smirks at Riddle. “I hope that if I ever go ghost you’ll care about me just as much as you do for (Name).”

“Are you daft? Don’t joke about that.”

“Kidding, kidding!” Laughing, he rests his elbows on the countertop, his eyes centered on the vintage clock hanging on the wall. “They say bands have bad luck at twenty-seven. You think I’ll survive the rest of these months? Maybe I should carry a white lighter to test my luck.”

“I revoke my well wishes. I hope your band sinks.”

“Wha—rude!”

Here I am talking to the police once again, Riddle muses as he stands in the lobby with Cater. A police officer, whose face is fraught with fatigue, slides a Manila folder across the counter. This was not part of my schedule.

“Your friend’s got a bit of a reputation here. Her file’s filled with interesting reports.”

“(Name)’s a law-abiding citizen. She wouldn’t have an entire folder’s worth of reports if she was one.”

“And yet she does. Our most recent report comes from Mr. Cater Diamond, who made a call two months ago because she had been exhibiting concerning behavior the night prior and had disappeared without a trace the following day.”

Riddle’s gaze snaps up to Cater, whose stare cuts through the officer. The blinding luminescence from the LEDs paints him in a sickly spotlight. “Yeah,” he says, color spilling into his eyes. “That was me.”

Why? What sort of concerning behavior warrants a police report?

“According to the file we’ve built up, she has a habit of leaving without telling anyone in advance. After Mr. Diamond reported her missing, it was later determined that she had simply gone on a vacation.” The officer rifles through the papers with deft fingers. “It’s possible that your friend’s missing, but based on her file and the fact that it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours yet it’s more likely that she’s avoiding everyone.”

“This can’t be typical behavior for (Name). She’s not like this.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, kid. Maybe you shouldn’t look at your friend with rose-tinted lenses. Not everyone’s as good as your heart makes them out to be.”

“I am not a child.”

I’ve known (Name) for years. You have no right to say that.

“My apologies, sir.” She glances at Cater, whose reservation is as solemn as the bland, monochrome police station, and nudges the file in his direction. “As much as I’d love to help you again, we can’t make any hasty decisions. She could be on a trip across the Coral Sea and we’d never know until we see a sign. Like social media activity, or she messages either of you. You said she went on a date last night. It’s not too far off to theorize that she might still be with her partner and simply lost track of time.”

“Yeah, I kinda figured that,” Cater says with an empty laugh.

“But she wouldn’t just abandon her shift! Your files must be incorrect. That’s a different (Name).” Riddle swipes one of the papers from off of the countertop and skims through it, shaking his head as if he intends to will the words away with sheer disbelief. According to the incident report, you had gotten into an altercation with a customer, which led to threats of violence and a minor injury. You weren’t the one at fault, but it was documented that you were quick to defend yourself the moment things spiraled out of control. “This is all wrong. The (Name) I grew up with wasn’t like this at all.”

The officer massages her temples. “I trust that your friend is a capable adult and no longer the child you remember?”

“Of course she is. But she wouldn’t just up and leave!”

“No one’s suggesting she is. Although it has happened in the past. Following this pattern of behaviors—”

“That’s impossible,” Riddle snaps, glaring. “Are you saying I don’t know my friend? I haven’t the faintest clue what other nonsense is written in those reports, but (Name) would never do that. She’s always told me everything. So before you start making any outlandish assumptions, perhaps you should review your ‘reports’ and—”

“Hey, hey!” Cater catches Riddle’s arm just as it shoots out to shake the crumpled paper at the officer. He tilts his head, a vacant grin playing at the corners of his mouth. “Let’s leave the hard-working officer alone, ‘kay? She’s just sharing the info they already have. Not much we can do about that, ya know?”

But it’s wrong, he wants to verbalize. That isn’t (Name).

Scoffing, he rips his arm away after a few moments of looking between Cater and the officer. “I don’t appreciate the false picture you’re painting,” he spits, striding away from the desk. “If you won’t allow us to file a report, then we’ll leave. Come along, Cater.”

I refuse to believe it, he thinks, crumpling the report and stuffing it into his apron pocket.

Cater fixes the officer with an apologetic look. “You’re probably right. I wish he could see that.”

“We get people like him all the time,” she says, sliding the papers back into the folder. “It’s nice to know someone cares. You can’t fault him for that.”

“Guess not.”

With Cater now following behind, Riddle shoves the doors open and steps out into the humidity.

“The nerve of some people! Can you believe she had the audacity to say those things?” Red-faced, he stomps his foot upon the pavement and huffs. “And what was all of that rubbish about ‘concerning behavior’ and ‘disappearing for a vacation’? And don’t get me started on those libelous files! How dare she claim that that’s normal behavior for (Name)? She doesn’t know anything!”

Smiling thinly, Cater steps in front of Riddle just as he’s about to throw more accusations around. “You wanna get something to eat? All of that really worked up an appetite, and I know this super cute place. It’s trending like crazy on Magicam. Come on. It’ll be my treat!”

“Stop thinking with your social media-wired mind for one minute and look at the bigger picture!” He swats at Cater, but his hit doesn’t land. “Have some decency! Our friend is missing and you want to trend online, of all things.”

“But she’s not. Listen, Riddle, I know you’re worried and you think that the worst has happened, but (Name) can take care of herself. Look at it this way. If you went out for a romantic dinner and your date was totes into you, you’d take them home, wouldn’t you?” Shrugging, he places his hands on Riddle’s shoulders and steers him in the direction of his car. He digs his heels into the pavement in protest. “They could’ve been in bed this entire time and your relentless messaging harshed the vibe.”

Riddle takes a generous step away from Cater once he’s shaken himself free. “Regardless, she should prioritize her job if she wants to keep it.”

“I’m beginning to see why she stopped talking to you.”

His tirade evaporates like morning dew on his tongue and he stares at him as if he’s just emerged from his tomb. “What did you say?”

“Nothing,” he sings, hooking arms with Riddle. “Now let’s get some grub!”

Guiding Riddle towards his car, Cater hums an upbeat tune. An occasional lyric slips through and it’s enough to ease his frayed nerves. As soon as he’s buckled himself into the passenger seat, that sinking feeling returns in full force.

She didn’t stop talking to me. She was busy with her degree. That’s all, he assures himself. He considers prying answers from Cater, but he knows it’s bound to be a fruitless pursuit. Instead, he distracts himself with the interior of Cater’s car. As dull as it appears, he’s managed to liven the interior with fairy lights, stickers, and other accessories. A pair of fuzzy dice hang from the rearview mirror, displaying snake eyes, and Riddle reaches out to poke one.

“Your car is a mouse trap,” he mutters, bitter like the blackest tea, as Cater’s old vehicle—or, as he prefers to call it, well-loved vintage—sputters to life. “I feel like I’ll lose my head if it crashes.”

“Great! Now you know how we felt in school.”

In no way is that similar to actual death.

“I suppose it’s karma.”

“You believe in karma?”

“I believe that everything comes around eventually. Bad deeds will not go unpunished.”

“Hold on. That sounded super cool! Can you say that last sentence again? But sing it. I’m gonna record it for an opening line for one of our songs! I think I’ll call it…Kismet Kiss!”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Hey, I can’t help it when inspiration strikes.” Chuckling, he pulls out of the lot and into an opening in the traffic. “Kismet kiss… A kismet kiss… We share a kismet kiss under a silver moon, where all is heavenly bliss. Oh, that’s a good lyric! I should write that down when we stop. I’m thinking it could be an energetic love song with dark undertones. Lots of people like creepy romances, and who said Halloween couldn’t start early?”

“Right… Actually, could we detour to (Name)’s really quickly? I’d like to see if she’s home.”

“Geez. Stalker much. What’re you gonna do next? Hack her phone?”

“Of course not! I just want to confirm something.”

Cater mulls over Riddle’s words and, with his eyes glued to the road ahead, he clicks his tongue as a knowing smile brightens his face. “(Name) never told you where she lives, did she?”

“That’s not true. She tells me everything.”

“Only the things she wants you to know.”

“Again, not true.”

“She didn’t tell you about her date.”

“That was one time, Cater! Besides, it must have slipped her mind.”

“You really wanna bother her RN?”

“First of all, we aren’t texting. Secondly, I’d rather bother her and know she’s safe than ignore the issue and learn she’s missing tomorrow morning.”

He hums, nodding along to the music that trickles out of the radio in soft notes, and cranks the volume up. “Too bad. Driver says we’re going for milk tea. (Name) can wait.”

“You—” He shakes his head as a dozen admonishments race through his mind like the flashy headlines on the front page of a newspaper. Inhaling sharply, he holds the breath and releases it. His nerves simmer, just on the verge of a boil.

We’re taking my car next time.

Despite the anxieties lurking in the background, Riddle still manages to count the minutes it takes for Mouse Trap to travel the distance from the station to the café, its storefront as pastel as the sky. Friends and couples sit at tables under blue-and-white striped umbrellas, large smiles adorning their faces. He stares at them as they pull into an unoccupied parking spot, imagining you amidst the crowd. The scene disperses as soon as Cater’s taken the key out of the ignition, his crooning and the radio having cut off as abruptly as Riddle’s daydreams.

I didn’t plan for this in my schedule either.

He watches Cater from where he sits and wonders where all of his energy stems from. He talks to the barista as if he’s a friend he has yet to meet. Perhaps that’s a juvenile mindset to have, as thinking so only sets him up for betrayal. The stranger you consider a friend today might be a monster tomorrow—a valuable lesson he’s picked up over the years. How he can smile so radiantly despite the tiresome circumstances that have led them here is beyond Riddle. He wants nothing more than to confirm everything’s okay so that he can move onto other issues clouding his headspace.

Do you feel a shred of concern for her? Do you really, truly care as much as I care? Are the two of you even friends? His chest rises and falls in a soundless breath. What’re you hiding, Cater?

Cater plops down in the seat across from him with a satisfied sigh. Passing him his drink, he says, “Sea Village.”

“Excuse me?”

“(Name)’s apartment complex.” He holds his tea up so that the label faces the front and flashes his teeth at the camera. “You can find the address online.”

“Huh.” He peers at the tapioca pearls gathered at the bottom and takes an experimental sip. It tastes pleasantly of strawberries and cream. “Thank you.”

Cater shrugs and sets the drink down on the table to snap more pictures at different angles. His focus never strays, even when Riddle rolls his eyes at his antics. He smiles at his screen as he swipes through the photos, carefully inspecting each to determine which is the most aesthetically pleasing.

“When she comes staggering outside like a zombie and is ready to chew you out for bothering her, I’ll say I told you so.”

“Yes, yes. You’re free to ridicule me when I’m wrong. In fact, I’m hoping you’re right and that she’s just tired from her night out.”

“She’ll be fine. It’s nothing a few aspirins can’t fix.”

That’s exactly it. She’s okay. I’m okay. Everything will be okay.

His gaze flicks from his phone to Riddle, whose genius response is to maintain eye contact while taking a painfully drawn-out sip from his tea. If Cater intends to add more to those statements, he isn’t given much of a chance when Riddle suddenly inhales sharply and proceeds to cough as if he’s come down with the plague. Cater snickers and tilts his head playfully, raising his phone to record Riddle’s struggle. He manages to overcome the fit moments later, frowning darkly at the tea in his hand and clearing his throat to uphold some semblance of unruffled peace.

“Fish eggs…” he grumbles, and it almost sounds like a creatively filtered curse word. “What are these dreadful things called again?”

“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘tapioca,’ Riddle,” he grinds out through a laugh.

“Would you stop poking fun, you twit?! It wasn’t funny!”

This entire day has been a mess. Why are we even here? I just want to know if she’s safe.

“Right. Watching you choke on tapioca like a newbie isn’t funny at all. It’s downright depressing.” Grinning, he swipes the video away and returns to the camera, holding his phone up for a selfie. “Lighten up and say ‘boba date’!”

Rolling his eyes, Riddle allows an awkward smile to bloom on his lips. Cater winks at his phone, giving his untouched drink a shake, and snaps the picture.

“You’re really photogenic, Riddle. I’d kill to look as cute as you. Now time for the tags! #BobaWiththeBestie. #DefinitelyNotFishEggs. #lol. #TooCute. #SweetSummer’sDay. I’ll tag you and hit post! Be sure to like it when you have a chance, ‘kay?”

“Why don’t we make an exchange? A like for a like.” The only indication that he’s hooked Cater with his proposal is a quirk of his brow. “If (Name) were to disappear, what’s a place she’d go to right away without fail?”

“Her favorite place…” he mumbles, drumming his fingers along the table. “I couldn’t tell you. It’s always changing. Besides, wouldn’t you know if she tells you everything?”

He musters a halfhearted glare and then leans back in his seat. Toying with the plastic cup, he observes the tapioca pearls trapped in a pink ocean. “I wanted to apologize for the time we lost, but I couldn’t bring myself to do so. And then we found…” He swallows thickly and shakes his head as the memory resurfaces. “We walked down to the beach that night and found…a corpse. It was so hectic I couldn’t even begin to apologize.”

“Whoa. Metal.” Before Riddle can skewer him with another scowl, he turns his phone towards him. “So this article wasn’t just a ghost story!”

Peering at the screen, he studies the photo depicting the empty boardwalk and sighs. “It was gruesome, Cater. No one should ever have to see something like that.”

“Mutilation can be an act of revenge, you know. Remember that one case involving that jealous ex-husband who cut his wife’s hands off so that she’d never touch another person again? This could be something like that.”

“I don’t think revenge is the motive here. Someone harvested organs from that man.”

“Yikes. Talk about a horror story in the making.”

Riddle deflates in his seat. “I haven’t been able to sleep since, and now that (Name)’s not replying… I suppose I’m just stressing over nothing. The police can handle a murder case and (Name) can handle her own issues.”

“That’s the spirit. Don’t overthink so much.” He winks at him. “If checking up on (Name) will help you sleep better at night, the least I can do is forward her address to you. But after this you have to promise to stop sticking your nose in her business. Just because you moved here to play caretaker, it doesn’t mean you’re free to invade her life. It’s not cute, so quit it.”

Riddle blinks, taken aback by the sudden tonal shift in Cater’s usually peppy voice. Emotion seeps from his countenance like watercolors running down a weathered fence, and for a while the two of them remain at an impasse, gazing at one another and daring the other to speak up first.

I’m not playing caretaker. I’m just trying to help her. You have no idea what— His thoughts are severed abruptly when Cater laughs.

“I’m kidding! Relax. You look so spooked.” Within seconds, he’s typed something and hit send. Riddle’s phone vibrates with the notification, but he refuses to check it. Like the sun in a desolate outer space, Cater adds, “If you think my car’s a mouse trap, wait until you see her apartment.”

I’m not sure if you realize it, but you can be really cold at times, Cater. Detached, even.

On the way back to the diner, with the radio blasting all the greatest hard rock hits, Riddle tugs at a loose string on his apron. Cater’s words continue to echo in his skull, and it isn’t until he’s seated in his own car, peering out the window as Cater drives off into the distance, that his resolution finally shatters. Resting his head against the steering wheel, Riddle shuts his eyes and takes a moment to reflect on the day in its entirety.

“It really was a date. That’s all it was.” Groaning, he peels himself off of the wheel and slouches in his seat. He reaches for his phone. “But just to be sure…”

Riddle listens to the disheartening ring as it repeats. Eventually, your voice trickles into his ear and his hope rises.

“Hey! I’m afraid I can’t make it to the phone right now. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you soon.”

Ending the call, he finds the address Cater sent him and inputs it in the GPS. With his phone resting on his lap and the radio playing a recording of a gameshow’s final round, he drives off in the direction of your apartment.

You’re not sleeping. The day’s nearly over. His grip on the wheel tightens. Something’s not right.

When he reaches Sea Village, a dingy place composed of weather-worn brick, rusted railings, and unstable iron balconies, the radio is thrumming with applause. The woman has just won the grand prize. Perplexed, Riddle reviews the address with narrowed eyes.

“This isn’t a mouse trap,” he mumbles. “It’s more of a…lonely husk. Were you comfortable here? If you were short on money, you could’ve told me. I would’ve helped.”

After locking his car, he pockets his phone and keys and beelines for the building, passing a vacant front desk on his way to the lift. It carries him to the second floor and spits him out into a quiet hall lined with doors. Riddle passes each as he walks, counting the numbers on the placards until he finds the one that belongs to you.

“(Name), are you home?” His knuckles rap the door. When no one answers, he presses his ear against it and listens. “Hello? Is anyone there?”

“You looking for someone?”

Riddle gasps and whirls to face the man, his heart lodged in his throat. Grocery bags hang off of his arms and he sets them down to retrieve his key before glancing at Riddle, thick brows furrowed.

“I… I am, actually. My friend lives here.”

“Oh. My apologies for startling you.” He sniffs, stroking his chin in contemplation. “Thought you were the boyfriend for a moment.”

“Boyfriend?” he parrots dumbly.

“Yeah. Glasses-wearing fellow. He usually drops by around this hour.”

“I see… Does this ‘glasses-wearing fellow’ happen to have a name?”

“Couldn’t tell you. Couldn’t care either way. What my neighbors get up to ain’t really my business, kid.”

His lip twitches. “Right. Sure. Then could you at least tell me if you’ve seen her today?”

“Her? I thought Glasses lived here.”

“No?” Riddle stares at him. “(Name) lives here. Have you met her before? I imagine she’s lived here for quite some time.”

“Kid, no lady lives in that apartment. I’ve only ever seen a man walk in and out of there.”

“A man...” He coughs into his hand. “I must have the wrong address. I’ll be on my way then.”

He shuffles past the man in the thin hallway. An intense numbness seeps into his bone marrow.

“Have a good one,” the man calls out to him before unlocking his door and disappearing inside with his groceries.

Riddle glances over his shoulder at the silver-plated numbers on the door. He combs through his hair and stops when his fingers brush the plastic headband. Removing it for further inspection, he turns it over in his hands.

All of this running around while looking like a Halloween devil… None of this nonsense was on my schedule.

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere jade leech #yandere jade leech x reader #serial killer jade #death row undertow #death row undertow chapter four

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tafeekafee · 1 month

Text

🌹💙 Eclipse (Part 3/8)

Part 1: Angel

Part 2: Nauseous

Deep inside my broken mind

I am haunted by the things I find

It was late the next morning that Hajoon woke up. He wished it was like it happened in the books he liked to read – the protagonist waking up after a traumatic event or whatever and just having a moment of peace before they remembered.

Hajoon didn’t have the luxury. The moment he opened his eyes, his swollen and hurting eyes, he remembered.

His alarm clock – the only source of light in his pitch-black room – read nearly twelve pm. He laid there, not sure what to do. Get up and act like he hadn’t heard them, like his heart wasn’t broken? Or should he just stay lying down and avoid them? He wasn’t sure he could even look them in the eyes after last night.

Hearing his members, his friends, talk about him like that was crushing. He had assumed they were okay. He had assumed they loved him as much as he loved them. He wondered how long this secret distain had been going on.

Had it been from the start? Had they been secretly thinking he was not good enough since the beginning and just used him as a chance to debut? Or had it been later? Hajoon knew he was not the most likable person. He could be needy, had troubles speaking up for himself, had never managed to grasp the English language like Jaehyeong had.

Hajoon really couldn’t fault his members for hating him.

A knock on his door made him freeze. Shit, he truly didn’t want to deal with them. The door opened a bit despite the silence and Hajoon closed his eyes, hoping that maybe he was in luck and whoever came in just left, thinking he was asleep. Of course he was out of luck.

Woosung – he could immediately tell from the light footsteps – flicked on the light, walked up towards him and sighed. Was he angry that Hajoon was still in bed? But they didn’t have any schedules, did they? Then a careful hand came to stroke his hair away from his forehead and the leader whispered: “Hajoon-ah, time to wake up.”

Hajoon couldn’t pretend any longer. He was normally a light sleeper and he knew Woosung would know something was up or know he was faking if he didn’t wake up. So he slowly blinked open his eyes, faking yawning which turned into real yawning.

“Good morning, baby”, Woosung greeted him with his typical smile, “there you are. How are you feeling today?” Why was he faking this concern? Hajoon didn’t understand.

“You slept like twelve hours straight, we were getting worried”, Woosung continued oblivious to Hajoon’s inner struggle, “you must be really exhausted, huh?”

Hajoon nodded, dumbfounded. He was exhausted. His stomach growled and he realized that he hadn’t eaten in close to twenty-four hours. Woosung grinned a bit at the sound.

“You’re still really sleepy. That’s okay”, Woosung added, still stroking Hajoon’s hair, “yesterday really took you out, hm? We wanted to go out and get something to eat, maybe even go up to Namsam Tower. If you’re not up to that, we can stay in too.”

What was he supposed to say? He was hungry but going through half the city and being forced to watch the trio interact sounded terrible. Forcing them to stay in was also not an option – it seemed like they really wanted to have fun together with their plans (their plans he wasn’t asked his opinion about). Maybe he could convince them to go without him.

And it creeps on me like a sunrise

And it swallows me into black skies

“Hyung, I think I’m getting a migraine”, Hajoon whispered, “I’ll stay here but you can go out.”

“Oh, I’m sorry you aren’t feeling well. That was all a bit too much information for you just now, baby? Hyung is sorry. How about we all stay in and we go out on a different day?”, the leader suggested, sounding worried.

But he got up and left. Hajoon wasn’t sure if he was happy about it or not. Then the overhead light was turned off and Woosung returned to his bedside with the glow of his phone-screen. Oh. His hyung had just flicked off the light, knowing it would bother Hajoon (if he actually had a migraine).

Hajoon felt overwhelmed. This sweet, kind hyung was not the hard leader from last night. He didn’t understand the two versions of Woosung – the one who would make sure that Hajoon was comfortable and the one who wanted to get rid of him. It didn’t make any sense!

“Better?”, Woosung asked. Hajoon whispered back a small “yes”.

“What do you need? Medication, bucket, icepack?”, the leader continued.

“I … not right now. It’s not bad yet, I just want it to not get worse. Please, I just wanna sleep. You three go out and enjoy.”

“But, baby”, Woosung protested, smoothing the blanket over Hajoon’s shoulder, “we want to go out as a group. We’d miss you. Let us stay here and take care of you today and when you’re better we’ll go.”

We’d miss you. If Hajoon hadn’t felt so miserable and confused he would have laughed. Miss him? Hajoon? On a few hours trip when they actually didn’t want him in the group anymore? The lie was as ridiculous as it was sad.

Take me to the dark

Take me to my sorrows

“I’ll just sleep, hyung”, Hajoon tried to explain, “if you all stay here, you’d have to be quiet. Have you met yourself and Leo? He can’t even be silent in sleep. Go out and enjoy, I would feel really bad for ruining your plans.”

“I… okay”, Woosung gave in. “We’ll put the medication on your bedside table and set down a bucket just in case. Let me set your phone to the lowest light setting, here we go. Promise to call us or the manager if you need help?”

“Yes, hyung”, Hajoon agreed, relieved that Woosung had seen reason. But was it so easy to force the group away? He knew it was hypocritical to think this way after all he wanted them gone: But was it so easy to leave him behind? Apparently so.

Hajoon closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the others getting ready. At one point Jaehyeong came in and put down the medication and a glass of water as promised. A small thud had Hajoon think he probably had placed a bucket on the floor as well. Why did Jaehyeong care so much?

“Feel better, Joon-ah”, Jaehyeong whispered in his soft, comforting voice, despite believing Hajoon was asleep. Hajoon was glad for the darkness that hid his tears.

He didn’t fucking understand.

If they hated him, thought he was a bad drummer and friend … why didn’t they just fucking kick him out? What were they waiting for? Were they scared of the bad publicity? Did they want him to realise himself? But why act so nice to him then?

And the shadows

I’ll face it

Even days later Hajoon didn’t understand. It nearly drove him crazy.

His members were still just as kind and caring towards him, just like always. But he noticed now that the others started doing stuff on their own, leaving Hajoon out. Of course he was still asked to join them for group activities. Hajoon barely felt like he could face them even when at work. At least there he could pretend like they wanted or at least needed him. But spending time together in private? That sounded like a terrible idea. He didn’t know why they were asking him when they clearly couldn’t care less about him.

It was nearly a week after the concert that Hajoon woke up to an empty house after a late afternoon nap that had stretched into the evening. He wasn’t included in their plans anymore.

He didn’t know if he felt better now that they were acting according to what he had heard or if seeing the words in action was worse. They must have agreed that they didn’t need to make an effort to pretend to want him. It hurt. But it was better that way.

Take me from the dark

Take me from my sorrows

Next chapter: Take Me Down

#hajoon series #kpop #the rose #hajoon #hajoon centric #hurt/comfort #songfic #angst #woosung #dojoon #jaehyeong #feeling insecure #insecure hajoon #lee hajoon #eclipse - the rose #part 3/8 #🌹#💙#🧚🏻‍♀️

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corndoggod · 11 months

Text

A New Apartment

I almost feel like I’m back in Chicago. The wide screened windows at half mast, the smell of thunder seeping in, a big book in one hand and a tall beer in the other. And all is quiet. I’ve been getting up early too - before 6am - a habit I started the first summer I stayed in Chicago when everyone else decided to leave or go abroad, not that I had many friends anyway. It was one of the best summers in my life, largely because of my routine. I rose early with the sun to write for two to three hours before biking to my job where I watched the World Cup, read articles and researched recipes for dinner that evening. After work I bought a six-pack and went home to cook. I was in bed by 10pm.

Yesterday I woke up to two mouthy sanitation workers and yelled down, “Thank you.”

Today I woke up to Chicken meowing, only to realize later that she was thirsty, not hungry.

I feel calm for the first time in a while. It’s been nice to be slow. Last night, C pried and I told her that ever since I got back from Nebraska I’ve felt out of sync with things, like I’ve been trying to slip back into the flow of things but can’t quite, as if I’m walking one inch off the ground. Normally I’m so consumed with day-to-day shit I suffer from tunnel vision. But it was nice to sit on shore for a bit and skip rocks and drink in the river from end to end.

I listened to today’s episode of The Daily about people evacuating coastal cities due to the cost of living. And once again, I felt irritated. I was ready to leave, or thought I was, but I had just signed for a new place. I listened to the end, remembered to not race through life, and convinced myself that I was doing well in the city. I had a good job and my rent was below $1000. I lived on a quiet street a block from a park in a new neighborhood I was partially familiar with.

I meandered from the kitchen where I took my coffee and yogurt and read. Then I ambled into the living room to read some more. Then I ran and rested my legs in bed before posting up in armchair to work. For seven years I had confined myself to my room, because I did not want to risk conversation or observation. But here I could move freely, and how nice it was to rotate around throughout the day.

It was also great to be alone. I have never lived alone and I still don’t, but C was on Long Island for a paint job and I soaked it in. There were so many things I needed to do alone: bake salmon, catch up on Succession, read the final installment in The Three-Body Problem trilogy, diary, train for a marathon I just signed up for, an play Zelda, which I’d hel off on purchasing until after the move.

Homeownership will come. Instead, I bought a tent for our upcoming road trip to Yellowstone, Wind Caves an the Grand Tetons. I was excited for strenuous hikes, free hot springs and the majesty of the West.

After I signed up for the marathon in Acadia, I declared it the year of National Parks. The race has motivated me. I’ve run late (8:30pm) and early (6:30am) and I’ve ran at least five miles every day this week. I may live to regret choosing a full marathon, the training is basically a part-time job, but it’ll be nice to have that as a talking point again. And it’s far more impressive than a half, which feels pedestrian. I will suffer and I will like it and I will feel superhuman come September.

Now I feel like a Paul Schrader leading man writing alone at the bare kitchen table. Writing the rules of my life. Rereading them. Throwing them away. Waiting for redemption from C who is due home any minute now.

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queen-haq · 3 years

Text

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 13

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language and smut.

Words: ~3000 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost...

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

gif credit: @bilyrusso

Part 13

It was 8 in the evening and you were still in the office. You hadn’t accomplished much work today, your mind mostly focused on Billy. You were surprised by how quickly he’d been able to make the funeral arrangements for his mother. Yesterday you had driven over to the nursing home and by the time you reached there, Carla Russo’s body had already been picked up. You’d signed a few papers for Billy and picked up the remainder of Carla’s things before you returned home. Everything of hers was packed into a small suitcase and sitting in your living room. You wanted to call him, ask him how he was and offer your support, but he seemed determined to do everything on his own when you’d talked to him last and you didn’t want to intrude.

You gave yourself a mental shake, reminding yourself to concentrate. This workday had been a wash. When you weren’t distracted by thoughts of Billy, you were putting out fires in your team. At least the personnel conflicts have been temporarily resolved, but now you needed to work on a slide deck that you’d been tasked with presenting to the executive leadership committee later in the week.

An hour later you were halfway done with your presentation when your phone rang. You glanced down at your screen to find Billy’s name on the screen. “Hi.”

“Hey.” He sounded exhausted. “You still at work?”

“Yeah. How did you know?”

There was a pause. “You give off the workaholic vibe.”

You smiled to yourself; at least he was okay enough to crack jokes. “How are you?”

“You mean am I grieving over a goddamn dead woman who preferred meth to her own fucking son?” He sighed. “No big loss. I’m fine.”

Anger and hurt saturated his voice despite his attempts to sound unaffected. Your heart hurt for him, you wished there was something you could do. “Do you need anything?”

“The funeral service is tomorrow.” A beat of silence followed. “Do you want to come?”

“Sure. What time?”

“2pm.”

“I’ll take the day off. Do you need my help with anything? Maybe I can call some of her friends?”

“When I found her she was living on the streets, barely alive but still hooked on meth. I doubt she’s got any friends.”

“What about the people in the nursing home? Maybe they want to come?”

“No, I don’t want anyone else there. Just you.”

Not liking the warmth that spread through you upon hearing his words, you reminded yourself he was probably feeling unusually vulnerable. This wasn’t typical of him.

“Do you want to come over?” he asked.

You exhaled a heavy sigh. “I would but I have so much work to do. I’ll be here for another hour at least.”

“Come over after you’re done.”

“It’ll be really late.”

“That’s fine. I can wait.”

“I can stop by my place to pick up your mom’s-.”

“No, it’s okay.”

You realized he wasn’t quite ready to go through Carla’s belongings yet.

“Bring your stuff with you.”

“Stuff?”

“Overnight bag, clothes for tomorrow, whatever.”

“Oh. You want me to stay over?”

“Yeah, might as well. We can drive over together for the service tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Despite the conversation coming to a natural end, he wasn’t hanging up. It seemed as if he was reluctant to be alone, probably because that meant dealing with the complicated emotions for his mother. You knew exactly how that felt. “If you want, I can leave now. I can work from your apartment instead of the office.”

“You’re not worried I’ll be tempted to spy on Valiant stuff?” he teased.

You smiled. “As if I’d let you see what I’m working on.”

“Guess no corporate espionage for me tonight.”

“Still going to keep you away from my laptop.”

He chuckled. “Just get here. I promise not to bug you while you work.”

“Okay. I’m leaving now.”

“See you soon.”

After you hung up, you started gathering your things together.

***

An hour later, you were at his place. When he opened the door, you immediately grew concerned at how tired he looked. Traveling back and forth from Vegas plus dealing with the news about Carla’s death within the last few hours meant he was absolutely exhausted.

“Hey,” he greeted you, smiling as he took the overnight bag from your hands.

You removed your heels while he took your bag inside his room and then made your way to his living room. While his penthouse suite was much bigger than yours, you actually didn’t like it very much. Despite the high-end finishes and the beautiful interiors - Billy had obviously hired a designer to make the place look good - it always felt very cool and inhospitable to you. It was too perfect and you always felt out of place inside the suite.

“You hungry?” he asked, coming up behind you. “I ordered dinner for you.” Arms encircling your waist, he dropped a kiss on the back of your head as he maneuvered you to the kitchen. He’d laid out the food for you on the dining table, and from the take-out containers you knew it was from one of your favourite Indian restaurants. The thoughtful gesture surprised you, you weren’t used to that from him. Noting that he’d only set the table for one, you turned around to look at him. “You’re not going to eat with me?”

“I ate already. I was starving. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” You cradled his face with one hand, your eyes roving over his beautiful face as he placed a kiss on the fleshy part of your palm. “You look exhausted. Did you even sleep?”

“No” He leaned back against the kitchen counter, weary. For a moment he closed his eyes, simply holding still, and you found yourself wrapping your arms around him in a hug. You didn’t understand why you’d even initiated the embrace – hugs were never your thing – but seeing him so beaten-down you were desperate to comfort him. He leaned into you, his body flushed against yours, and you held him tight. Stroking the nape of his neck, you placed a soft kiss on the center of his forehead. “Why don’t you take a nap while I work?”

“You don’t mind?”

You smiled up at him, running your fingers through his hair. “At least I don’t have to worry about you stealing my company secrets while you sleep.”

He smirked. “You’ll be here when I wake up?”

“Yup. Probably still working away.”

Billy grazed your temple softly before dropping a tender kiss on the tip of your nose. “Okay, but eat first.”

You nodded your head, watching after him as he sauntered out of the kitchen and disappeared down the hallway.

Sighing, you went to the sink to wash your hands before eating.

***

It was after midnight and you were still working on your slide deck when you heard Billy puttering around in the bathroom. Soon he slowly made his way towards you, dressed in a t-shirt and black boxers, his hair all messy. He yawned lazily, falling onto the other end of the couch.

“I thought you’d sleep through the night,” you remarked.

“Are you still working?” he asked.

“Almost done.” You saved the file and shut off the laptop before slipping it back inside your bag.

Suddenly he pulled you closer and you found yourself tucked underneath him on the couch as he glanced down at you from above. “You work too hard.”

You smiled up at him. “They don’t pay me the big bucks to sit there and look pretty.”

A slow, incandescent smile curved his lips. “I would. If I ran Valiant, you’d be my personal stress relief. You’d be in my office the entire time and do nothing but look pretty and service me.”

“That’s sexual harassment.”

Billy shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever. I’d make it worth your while.”

You laughed, angling up to kiss him. “Your breath is all minty fresh.”

“I brushed my teeth for you.”

“Wow. Be still my heart.”

A warm grin covered his face as he shifted down your body to nuzzle your neck. His weight was heavy as he rested atop you, but you liked the solid feel of him on you, the way you felt all safe and warm. You stroked his hair while he drew lazy circles on your chest, the silence between you two comforting.

“No one knows about her. Not Frank, not Curtis, no one.”

Those names were familiar to you because Billy had mentioned them in passing a few times. Of course he’d never shared any other info, but you being you, you’d dug around and found out more about them. You knew they’d served with Billy and he considered them his closest friends.

“When I found her three years ago, I put her in that home and forgot all about her.”

“You visited her every week,” you reminded him.

“Because I wanted her to regret abandoning me. I wanted her to see how far I’d come, I wanted to throw her mistakes in her face. But I don’t think she regretted safe-havening me, not even a bit.”

The bitter pain in his voice made your heart hurt for him.

“Maybe I should be happy she’s finally dead, or maybe I’m supposed to be sad or something.”

“How do you actually feel?”

“Nothing. I feel nothing.”

“Billy, I think that’s normal. There’s no right or wrong in this. All of your feelings are valid.”

“Even if her dying made me absolutely ecstatic? You wouldn’t think I was a fucking psychopath?”

“You are a psychopath but not because you have conflicting emotions about your terrible mother dying. You have the right to feel how you feel about her, whatever that might be.”

Eyes blazing with emotion, he hovered about you to meet your gaze. “Then what makes me a psychopath?”

You quirked your eyebrow. “The fact you want to torture my dates.”

“Not just torture, I want to kill them.” Eyes darkened, voice velvety-smooth, he covered your mouth with his and ravaged you with a kiss that left you thrumming and breathless.

“Only you’re allowed to touch me?” you asked through labored breaths.

“Yes.” His voice was a lustful rasp, his mouth leaving a heated trail as he sucked on the oh-so-sensitive corner of where your neck and shoulder intersected. Sparks of electricity ran down your spine. “Only me.”

You took his hand and guided it down your body, parting your thighs for him.

Like always, you were soon completely lost in the erotic pleasure of his mouth on you. Your legs hooked over his shoulders, your hands grabbed the back of the couch for support as he fucked you with his hands and mouth, sucking you, licking you, his tongue flicking over your clit until you were keening under him. Body arching off the couch, you moaned his name louder and louder until he drove you completely over the edge.

Then you felt a light slap on your cunt which immediately brought you back to reality. Opening your eyes, you found Billy perched between your legs, gracing you with the most wicked smile. “That’s one.” He slapped your pussy again, this time his long, lean fingers ever so slightly grazing your clit and your hips bucked, wanting more. “As promised.” His eyebrow quirked up. “Punishment.”

“Not fair,” you protested. “I’ll date who I want.”

He slapped you again, a little harder this time, but then he leaned down to place comforting kisses on the very spots he assaulted and you moaned with pleasure.

“All of you.” His tongue lapped over your clit, eyes locked with yours. “Belongs to me. I own you.”

“You don’t!” You squealed when he flipped you over unexpectedly, grabbing you by the hips so your ass was lifted of the couch. And then he squeezed your butt cheeks, biting them lightly before he started rimming you.

***

After sharing a shower the two of you were laying in his bed, your back pressed against his chest as you both stared up at the ceiling. His one hand was intertwined with yours, the other arm circled around your hips. The two of you didn’t have sex but you didn’t mind. You were both fatigued.

“I smell like you now,” you murmured, realizing the soap in his shower had left its scent on you.

“I know. I like it.” He squeezed your fingers. “I have a present for you.”

“I hope it’s not earrings again.”

He chuckled. “No, not earrings.”

“What is it then?”

“Jewelry.”

You turned back to look at him. “What? Like a necklace?”

“Something like that. Except I’m the only one who’ll see you wearing it.”

“Ah. And where is this gift?”

He kissed the top of your head. “Not here yet.”

You smiled to yourself. “People usually wait until they have the gift in hand before telling others about it.”

“I couldn’t wait. I’m excited to see you wear it.”

He stroked your hair, and your eyes grew heavy. Soon you started falling into deep slumber, feeling calm, comforted by Billy’s arms around you.

“What happened with your family?”

Your eyes flew open. Like always, any mention of your family unfurled anxiety within you. You didn’t like thinking about them letting alone discussing them. “They passed away.”

“They’re dead?”

“Yes.”

“Both of them?”

“Yes.”

He pulled you up so you were facing him now, his intoxicating gaze completely focused on you. “That day when I asked you about the pictures, you said you weren’t close to your family.”

“I meant my extended family. I don’t keep in touch with them,” you replied smoothly.

“What were your parents like?”

Irritation surged through you at his obtrusive questions but you had to remind yourself he just lost his mother. He was feeling out-of-sorts, working through his grief – even if he didn’t think so – and he was reaching out to the only person in his life that knew about his mother. “Normal.”

He simply stared at you for a long time, studying you, saying nothing. “Normal,” he repeated, finally breaking the strained silence.

You shrugged your shoulders, dropping your gaze to the base of his throat so you didn’t have to hold his piercing stare. “Yup.”

“How did they die?”

“Car accident.”

“You miss them?”

“Of course,” you lied.

He reached out to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. “So you grew up with great parents, white picket fence and all that bullshit? Sounds like you had a fairytale childhood.”

“Can we talk about this tomorrow? I’m really tired.”

“Sure. I’ll add this to the list of all the other shit we’ll talk about someday.”

He sounded almost angry with you and you weren’t sure why. Before you could question him, however, he pulled you close so you were snuggled against his chest and the warmth of his body was enough to silence your brain and lull you to sleep.

***

It was a cold, crisp autumn day in New York. The outdoor service, attended by only you and Billy, was short and quick. Throughout it, he’d gripped your hand even though he’d been outwardly calm and collected. Even now as he stood a few feet away from you, impeccably dressed in a black suit, his dark eyes hidden behind a pair of aviator sunglasses as he stared out at the pond, you sensed he was a complete mess inside. You didn’t know what to say to him so you simply sat on the bench, both of you in an isolated corner of the garden. Eventually he came to sit beside you, taking your hand in his.

“I’d have given her the whole world.” His voice was filled with pain and longing as he removed his sunglasses and tucked them in the upper pocket of his suit. “I would have given her anything she ever wanted.” Billy’s eyes met yours. “If she’d just wanted me.”

You scooted closer to wrap your arms around him, breathing him in as he sunk into you. His hands caressed your back, his grip on you so tight you almost couldn’t breathe. After a while he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes holding you prisoner in front of him.

“Swear to me you’ll never leave.”

“Billy-”

“Promise me!”

“I can’t.”

“It wasn’t a fucking request, Y/N.”

You tried to pull away from him but he fisted the back of your hair, holding you in place.

The raw urgency in his voice played havoc with your emotions. If you closed your eyes, just for a moment, you could shut out all the doubts in your head and simply believe him - but you could only live the fantasy for a short moment before reality forced its way back in. “You don’t mean those words, Billy.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you don’t feel that strongly about me.”

His eyes narrowed, glaring at you with hostility. “You’re gonna tell me how I feel?”

“I’m not what you want.”

“And what do you think I want?”

You gave him a sad smile. “The best of everything. Best car, best clothes, the most beautiful women in your arms. You want all that because you need others to want what you have.”

“Is that so wrong?”

You shook your head. “No, there’s nothing wrong with that – except I don’t fit into any of those categories. You want a woman like Dinah Madani. I’m not her. So eventually this thing between us will end.”

His jaw was set in a grim line, eyes burning bright with rage. “So you have me all figured out, huh?”

“Don’t get mad. You know it’s the truth.”

He yanked you closer, crushing you against him. “It’s been me against the world for as long as I can remember. But when I look at you.” His eyes softened, mouth parting as his dark gaze roamed over your face. “I don’t feel alone anymore.”

Your heart melted. The tenuous handle you had on your self-control disintegrated completely. You closed your mouth over his, kissing him frantically as he picked you up and straddled you across his lap.

He pulled back to look at you. “You’re my home. You’re all I need.”

Part 14

A/N - As always, all of your feedback, comments, asks, likes and reblogs are deeply appreciated. They truly inspire me to keep writing, so thank you from the bottom of my heart.

If you want to be added/removed from the tag list, please let me know.

Tag List:;

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#billy russo x reader #billy russo #ben barnes #the punisher #billy russo imagine

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chelleztjs18 · 3 years

Text

Lost in Assistance - Ch. 6

GIF: I do not own this GIF.

Summary: Y/n is a professional celebrity's personal assistant in Hollywood got hired with two years contract to be the assistant of the famous and talented Elizabeth Olsen / Lizzie by her manager. Both Y/n and Lizzie hate each other since day one, and they have mutual friend. One is as stubborn as the other, will Y/n stay when Lizzie gives attitudes and tries her best to make her quit before the contract ends?

Warning: fluff, angst, smut (in future chapters), swearing words ( +18 only)

All chapters

You are forced to wake up in a sudden by your alarm blaring. You squint your eyes, try to find your glasses or your phone to turn off that annoyance of the sounds of your alarm. You finally turned it off and put on your glasses then checked out the time. You forgot that you have to wake up earlier than you planned before Lizzie’s text yesterday. Once you see the time is 5 AM, you regretted that you stayed up late last night.

You groaned as you got out of the bed. Last night you decided to wake up at 5 AM just so you can give yourself enough time to get ready, let alone you have to try to beat the traffic to go to the office even though it’s Friday you just don’t want to take that risk, not today. Last but not least, you have to get the coffee that Lizzie specifically requested.

You try to get ready faster than usual. You picked semi casual attire for today with a low ponytail and flat shoes. You grabbed your purse, your laptop and every other thing you need for work today. You walk out then go to your mom’s room to check if your mom is awake.

“Ma, are you awake yet? I’m gonna go to work okay? I’ll see you when I get home. Love you.” You half whispered hoping your mom can hear you but not loud enough to wake her up just in case she is still sleeping.

“Okay, good luck on your first day my dear.” Your mom replies in a sleepy tone.

You left for work but had to drop by at Starbucks near the office to get Lizzie’s large black coffee with half and half and two pumps of hazelnut syrup so it will still be hot when she gets it. That’s how she likes it and it’s one of a few list of coffee beverages she likes besides her precious seasonal pumpkin spice latte.

You finally arrived at the office at 6 AM sharp. The main building is already open due to some offices having early operation hours. You confidently go up to the office thinking it is already open as well or at least opened for Lizzie who is meeting you there but to your surprise the door is still locked and all the lights are still off. Puzzled with what’s going on, you pull out your phone and try to contact Lizzie to figure out where she is.

You try to call her but no answer. You wait for a few minutes in front of the office, then you try to call her again, which leads to the same result, no answer. Hoping that you will get an answer if you try to reach her in a different way, you decided to text her.

"Good morning Ms. Olsen, I'm here at the office. Are you on your way here by any chance? Thanks." You texted anxiously yet irritated. Fifteen minutes went by and still no words whatsoever from her. You decided to go back to your car and wait there.

You hate waiting yet that’s the only thing you can do now. Luckily, you parked at one of the Vernon’s office reserved spots so it will be easy for you to spot Lizzie when she comes. You sighed with annoyance every time you checked your phone and found nothing from Lizzie. You watch the parking spots around you like a hawk to spot Lizzie but shortly you are betrayed by your body, your eyes slowly close and you fall asleep. All of a sudden you hear your phone ring, it’s Lizzie. You jolted to check the time to find it’s 8:05. “Sh*t! Sh*t! Sh*t!’ You cursed in your mind and answered the call.

”Hello. Ms. Olsen. I’m coming right up.” You explain right away while you gather your stuff to get going. “Where are you?! You are late. I have been waiting here for 5 minutes.” Lizzie asked, pretending she was upset about waiting. Making you come two hours early and letting you wait was her plan. Little did you know, Lizzie actually saw you sleeping in the car when she parked. Of course she won’t let this situation go to waste so she decided to just go up to the office to make it look like you are late.

You finally showed up with one hand holding your purse and your laptop, the other handing Lizzie her coffee. “Good morning. I’m so sorry. Here’s your coffee. I got here at-..” before you could finish your explanation she cuts you off. “Um, my coffee is not hot, Y/n. Why is it cold? I like hot coffee in the morning. You need to get me a new one on the way there. We gotta go now or we are gonna be late. Thanks to you.” She gave the coffee back to you and walked away.

Your jaw dropped. You are so flabbergasted and irritated at the same time with what just happened as you saw her walk away with no remorse whatsoever.

“Aren’t you coming?” What Lizzie said snap you back to reality and you proceed to follow her to leave.

Lizzie decided to sit at the front passenger side with you driving. You drive in silence, still upset that you have to go to Starbucks to get her another hot coffee. You ordered hers and your usual coffee. You got both of your orders, you put yours in the cup holder and you hand her hers. “Ice coffee huh in the morning? Grande Espresso frappuccino, light ice double blended with extra shot in a venti cup. Just because you like cold coffee in the morning, it doesn’t mean other people like it too, you know?” She commented sarcastically. “Ms. Olsen, I got there at 6 just like you wanted me to, I tried to call and text you but no answer. That’s why your coffee got cold. It has been sitting for two hours.” You broke your silence but are still trying to keep it cool.

“Oh yeah, I slept in, didn’t hear my alarm.” Lizzie answered nonchalantly.

“Are you kidd--” You said in your mind then you took a deep breath. Hearing how she answered you, it made you connect the dots and you know what she’s up to. You know it’s normal if she really slept in but this happened on the first day you work for her, coincidence much.

“I see.” You said it sarcastically and nodded slightly. “What? What do you see?” You got her attention. “Oh nothing. You did it on purpose didn’t you? You are trying to give me a hard time working.” You calmly confront her. “I told you I slept in. It’s up to you how you gonna take my answer.” Another nonchalant answer came out from her. You chuckle sarcastically then pull over and turn your head to look at her. She looks back at you confused.

“Look, Ms. Olsen. I don’t sugar coat things so please hear me out, I know you don’t like me because I got hired as the assistant you thought you don’t need and I don’t fancy you either. What you did this morning is completely childish and to me, you really give yourself a bad name such as a brat. I’m just here doing my job. As professional as you are and as stubborn as you are, no matter what game you are playing now, I won’t quit because I’m not a quitter. So why don’t you just let me do my job until the contract ends?” You raise one of your eyebrows and give her an intimidating smile then you start to drive again to the location.

Despite the fact that Lizzie actually got caught off guard with what you just did and with everything you said, she refused to give in. In fact it just provoked her more and started to ramble angrily “I told you I slept in! Just so you know, I have my own reason why I don't need a new assistant! You know nothing about me! So don't you dare call me a brat! Don't get too cocky. I’m not a quitter either. I’ll win.” She replied and just like that, they soon got into an argument and everything turned into one competition between you two girls who have the same level of unyielding obduracy. Nonetheless, both of you are consumed by your own ego and anger.

You scoffed. "Oh come on! We both know you did it on purpose! I'm not stupid! 2 plus 2 is 4! Why don't you want a new assistant anyway? It's not that bad!" You raised your tone a little.

"Why the hell do I have to tell you my reason?! It's a personal thing! You work for me, don't you remember that?! Being childish is way better than being cocky like you. Just because you are the best assistant that Mitchel has, doesn't mean you're better than anybody else! So if you are as professional as you said you are, why don't you just zip it and drive?!"

The driving is now filled with tension and awkward silence. You decide to turn on the music just to calm you down. Clair De Lune by Motez Remix plays. The tune is actually catchy enough to Lizzie’s ears, she never heard this song before so she secretly checked the title on y/n’s car screen. “I don’t like this, I want to listen to something else.” She lied just to push y/n’s button yet again. “My car, my choice of music.” Lizzie rolled her eyes to what you said.

Luckily the traffic wasn’t that bad, you both arrived at the location on time. Lizzie gets out of the car and slams the door as she is still upset with you.

The photoshoot session starts. Both of you only talk when it’s needed. Not a single eye contact happens between the two of you. After a few hours, it’s time for lunch. Lunch is already catered, you prepared a plate for her, place it on the table. You sit with the photographer and crews on another table near hers.

She sits and about to eat but was stopped by something she noticed on her plate. Something that she hates, onions.

“Umm, Y/n, I can’t eat this.” She pushed the plate away. “ And why is that?” curious why she said that, you go to take a look at her plate and notice what’s the problem. “Sorry, I didn’t notice there’s onions there.” You added.

“It’s okay, I wouldn’t mind eating it if there’s no onion in it. Since you are my assistant, I will let you do your job just like what you asked me to do earlier.” She said it sarcastically but in a low tone and gave you a smirk, knowing she just served you back your own words from the argument earlier.

You realized what she wants you to do, it won’t look good if the photographer and the crew see you argue with you since they didn’t hear what ridiculous “assistance” Lizzie just asked you to do for her so you just do what she asked you to half heartedly.

The rest of the session continues then you both go back to the office when it’s all done. The whole ride was awkward and silent from both of you with soft music playing in the background. Tension is in the air but that doesn’t stop both of you secretly exchanging glances to each other without you both knowing.

You both arrived at the office’s parking structure just to separate to go home and move on with your day.

Ch. 7

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mintymiknow · 3 years

Text

Trust Fall ch. 8 | Lee Minho

summary | character profiles | masterlist

Pairing: Lee Minho/Lee Know x Reader

Summary: Little discussions here and there seem to open some eyes and hearts, but is it enough to fully break down the walls that were built?

Genre: Secret agent/spy au, romance, angst, action

Word count: Approx. 5.8k

Warnings for this chapter: Genre-typical violence & blood due to fight scenes (rest assured, it isn’t gore; just basic or typical violence for fight scenes). Let me know if I missed anything or should add more warning tags though!

A/N: I know you all had to wait for a bit, but I used my break to spend time with family (and play Genshin so...hehe I needed some “me-time”). Anyway! I’m back and here to give you all the next chapter for the series. I hope you enjoy reading it as the end scenes have been my favorite to write so far ‘cause you’ll be getting some tension and fluff at the same time. Leave an ask for any questions and comments!

“I’ve fallen into a daily routine now. I’m used to everything and go about my day normally now.”

That’s what you’d like to say anyway.

While it’s somehow true that you’ve fallen into a systematic rhythm in SKZ, it’s still something that weighs down on you, and you just want to get things over and done with. You still have to drag your body away from the bed, drag your feet here and there, and work in the lab department.

This systematic rhythm consists of working in the lab with Seungmin and Jisung - and eating your meals with them mostly. It also involves Minho and the other boys going on smaller-sized missions, each return giving you more things to work with and whatnot.

In the very back of your head and heart, the brief moments Minho spends with you - namely late nights in the lab discussing the recent findings and theories - are somewhat a breather as it reminded you of the times you and Dr. Kang would stay in the doctors’ lounge, talking about how your rounds with the patients went for the day.

Well, at the end of it all, at least you’re basically good friends with Seungmin and Jisung now. Being with the two gave you a sense of freedom as if you were back in your more relaxed college days or something of that sort.

After getting showered and dressed for another day, you head to the lab department. On the way, you bump into Felix in the courtyard-like area of the HQ. The young male greets you with a smile, “Morning, y/n! Lab duty again?”

You offer a small smile and nod in response, “Hi, Felix. Yes, as usual.”

“I see.” Felix chuckles lightly, “Don’t forget to stand up and stretch from time to time. Sitting for long hours isn’t good for your posture! Though you’re the doctor so I’m sure you knew that…”

“We can forget.” you chuckle, “Thank you for the reminder. You should keep that in mind too.”

“Yeah, sitting in front of computer screens and whatnot is bad for my eyes, but probably my back too.” Felix laughs, his eyes filled with so much brightness.

You release a soft sigh and smile, “I commend you and your efforts in the tech division.”

“Thanks…” Felix says sheepishly, “I’m not one for being in the limelight, but it’s nice to hear that us tech agents are doing good too. We are working in the background most of the time.”

“Well, I’m sure that without you and the other tech guys, Minho and the rest of the agents would be doing missions blindly and without any advantages.” you say seriously yet warmly.

“That’s true.” the younger laughs, “Gee, you’re really nice, you know that?”

“Not really...just...um, saying facts.” you stutter, suddenly taken by surprise by his compliment, “It’s from a completely objective perspective after all…”

Felix grins wider, shaking his head, “I can tell you’re a nice person, y/n! Minho says you’re a bit closed off, but it’s understandable. Jisung and Seungmin know you best, and they like you a lot, so that’s more than enough to like you too. Besides, you wouldn’t be here if you really didn’t care, right?”

After that statement, another agent calls for Felix, so the freckled male has to excuse himself. As he trots off to the main HQ building, you stand there, dumbfounded.

“Besides, you wouldn’t be here if you really didn’t care, right?”

You’ve been blaming Minho and Jung and SKZ for dragging and forcing you back into the game. Blaming them for giving you no choice no matter what, but deep down, you knew that you did have a choice. You could run away any time, turn to the government or something to fight for your rights. You could give in to the dark whispers of joining Cle to end whatever struggle once and for all.

But you had a choice, and you chose to work with SKZ.

Because yes, you cared. Yes, you wanted to make sure no one lost their lives over a stupid serum.

You chose this.

Who knew that Felix, happy-go-lucky and carefree as he was, would just nonchalantly utter words that would open your eyes and heart. Well, maybe it was that innocence and cheerfulness that made it more believable and genuine to you.

Shaking your head to release yourself from a trance, you clear your throat and make hurried steps towards the lab department. You take the elevator and go down to the underground level where most of the work is done. You then venture further inside, heading for the hallway where various rooms are lined. You’re about to scan your ID to open the door to the lab room you frequently use when the door slides open by itself; you’re met with a tall figure in front of you.

You look up, only to see Jung standing in front of you, tilting his head to the side. “Oh, Dr. Song, good morning.” he chuckles.

You nod politely, “Yes, good morning, Jung. What...what brings you here?”

Jung rarely stepped foot into the lab unless you guys summoned him and the agents for briefing on test findings and results. As far as you were concerned, the results for the tests Jisung ran yesterday are due later in the afternoon, not this morning.

Unless...something happened and Jung needed to speak directly to you, perhaps?

“Did...something happen?” you ask again, clearing your throat.

Jung shakes his head and offers a smile, “Well, technically I was looking for Seungmin, and since you both work closely, I thought he’d be here...where’d that boy go?”

“Seungmin’s doing his rounds in the medical wing, I think.” you explain, “Did you need something from him? Maybe I’d know…”

“Oh, no. It’s just about an agent that needs treatment, and I think Seungmin would be the best doctor to work on it.” Jung sighs and offers a small smile, “No matter, I’ll look for him myself.”

“I see, alright then.” you nod.

“Have a good day, Dr. Song. Don’t forget to take breaks. Minho says you’ve been working non-stop.” Jung calls over his shoulder as he walks away, muttering something about ‘where is Kim Seungmin’ afterwards.

You go inside the lab room and press the button for the door to slide shut. Call it “trust issues”, but as soon as the door closes, you scan the room and check everything there, making sure how you left it last night was how it was until now.

Not a single thing was out of place, so you mentally slap your mind for being so suspicious.

You then proceed to study whatever chemicals and substances the team has brought back the past few days, and you study them along with...well, vials of chemicals that you’ve hesitantly withheld from the rest - from Minho. These withheld items were things you’d only test and analyze when you were working by yourself, keeping the observations and notes in a small notebook that you kept in utter secrecy and safety.

If Jisung and Seungmin wanted to enter the lab room, they’d have to knock or scan their IDs, and if it were the latter, the beeping sound before the door opens gave you enough time to conceal whatever substances you were hiding under the table or in the desk drawers.

After a few hours or so, you finally decide to take a break and keep the vials and flasks in a locked cabinet before clearing up the desk and returning whatever equipment you used. However, you still remain seated on the stool, going through the notes you’ve written in your notebook and rattling your mind to come up with mental calculations and formulas to make sense of your findings. So far, you don’t have anything, and your eyebrows knit together in desperation.

“Y/n.”

You freeze in your spot upon hearing that sharp and clear voice; you don’t even bother to make any moves in hiding your notebook - that’s too suspicious. Instead, you simply close the notebook and try your best to look as calm as possible as you look up, “Agent Lee.”

Minho crosses his arms, something you’ve learned to look away from - unless you want to internally drool over how attractive the simple gesture looks. “I thought you were supposed to be with Jisung for today? That’s what he told me last night anyway.” he says plainly.

You sigh. Did they all keep tabs on you or what? “I was just about to meet with him.” you answer, breaking eye contact with him once again, “I just...wanted to check some things here.”

“Anything of use?” Minho raises an eyebrow, and you know he’s trying to get you to explain yourself.

You lift up your notebook and weakly wave it in the air before explaining, “Just...going over some notes from previous findings and trying to connect the dots. I...am yet to see anything of significance.”

Once again, not a complete lie; yes, you were trying to connect that dots and whatnot, but nothing of significance? That was a lie. You’ve already noted some pretty significant findings aside from the ones you discovered with the other scientists, but you didn’t need to tell Minho that. Not yet...maybe.

Minho walks over, stopping a bit too close for you, and you involuntarily flinch at the suddenness...and proximity. The agent notices the subtle reaction, eyes slightly lidding in either annoyance or guilt...you aren’t sure which one. He plants a hand on the desk, leaning against it as he raises an eyebrow again, “Care to share anything else?”

You shake your head, moving to put your notebook in your small purse and slinging it onto your shoulder. You stand up from the stool, but instantly regret it as Minho takes one very miniscule step towards you. That tiny step is enough to cause you to take your own step back, unfortunately bumping into the stool behind you. The male catches you with ease, a hand lightly supporting your lower back as he tugs you close with one swift and effortless motion.

Your hands fly out to settle against his chest in an effort to put as much distance between you two. Minho leans close, his head perfectly and dangerously near the side of your neck; his dark hair tickles your ear, and you can almost feel the tip of his perfect nose against the skin of your neck. You can’t help but gulp, and you’re sure the agent notices it. Despite his body warm against yours, you’re frozen like ice, unmoving as Minho remains in that position for a few more seconds.

After, he pulls back and stares at you with an unreadable expression, dark eyes still somehow sparkly despite the tension in the room. “Did you...perhaps drink at the bar before coming here? While on duty?” he asks sternly, as if reprimanding you.

You blink your eyes, staring at the male with confusion. “Excuse me?” you blurt out.

“You smell like alcohol.” Minho says in a deadpan manner.

You angle your head to sniff your shoulder to see if he was telling the truth. Surprisingly, you caught a whiff of alcohol from your jacket and internally groan, closing your eyes in embarrassment. If this were a cartoon, your cheeks would be tomato-red. You open your eyes to see Minho smiling at you, the curl of his lips nothing short of teasing and playful. Your cheeks are probably redder now.

“I didn’t drink today.” you clear your throat, tearing your eyes away from Minho’s to look down. Instead, your eyes land on his tie, already loosened at the top with the first few buttons of his shirt unbuttoned. Your mind goes hazy.

Minho laughs lightly, “You do know it’s against the rules to go to the lounge bar when on duty, right?”

You snap out of whatever reverie you were in, dragging your eyes back to Minho’s. You nod, narrowing your eyes to mask your flustered state, “I drank yesterday, but with Seungmin and Jisung. I didn’t do anything today. This is the jacket I wore yesterday, that’s why.”

“I see.” Minho tilts his head innocently, pulling away and retracting his hand from your back; you suddenly miss the warmth.

You clear your throat once more before bowing politely, “Now if you’ll excuse me, Jisung might be waiting.”

You don’t wait for Minho to reply, skirting around him to leave the room in a hurry. Minho watches your retreating figure with warm eyes, but as soon as you’re gone, he narrows said eyes and scans the room. Though nothing in particular seems wrong, he does notice a small sheet of paper on the floor, perhaps slipping from your notebook when you hurriedly put it back in your purse. He bends down to pick it up, flipping it over to reveal a small polaroid photograph.

Minho’s eyes glaze at the photo, taking into account the three individuals posing happily. He sees a woman on the right, one eye closed as she makes a winking face with a smile wide and bright as she flashes a peace-sign with her hand.

In the middle is a male who Minho recalls is the man you met up with before - Dr. Kang Hyunbin, the one you claimed to be your good friend. He smiles calmly, eyes twinkling even through a photograph as he has one arm around the other woman’s shoulder, and another arm around your shoulder.

There, at the left side you stand, smiling wider than Minho has ever seen, eyes full of life and not dull like how it is in here. The three of you were in casual clothes, though still wearing your usual lab coats in what seems to be the outdoor garden of Gongjak Hospital.

“Never thought I’d see someone smile like this after her.” Minho thinks to himself, “How cruel is fate, huh?”

He catches himself looking at you a second too long than he intended, so he releases a sigh and pockets the photo, making a mental note to return it to you soon. Turning on his heel, the agent then heads for the training facility in the main building.

“If I may be so bold, I’d say you’re in love.” Jeongin laughs after finishing a routine on the treadmill, plopping down onto a bench, “Not kidding.”

Minho leans against one of the gym equipment, raising a displeased eyebrow as he utters, “Yeah, you’re being too bold as usual, Innie. That’s not even - I don’t even know what to say in response to that.”

Chan wipes the sweat off his forehead with a towel after he finishes his turn with the punching bag. “I am intrigued how you came with that conclusion though.” the eldest says.

Jeongin laughs, his eyes narrowing into a playful yet sincere disposition, “Well, you don’t show it, but we know you well enough to see that you really do care about her. And it’s not just because you’re her partner or it’s your job to do so. I know how you are when you genuinely care about someone, and your eyes tell me that you do care about y/n more than you lead on.”

“Ok, but what if I’m only like that because I don’t want her to die? Because we’re agents? We’re supposed to be protectors of this country and its people?” Minho reasons, heading towards the punching bag.

“You’re pretty touchy and teasing with her, am I right? Kinda flirty and charming.”

“It’s called a cover, Innie. You’re familiar with that.”

“I just have a feeling. You don’t care about people to that extent. You tend to act out of duty and obligation, not attachment and emotion. With us being an exception to that, the other person I can see this side of you with is when you’re with y/n, or if it involves y/n.” Jeongin leans back against the wall, his smile not faltering one bit, “Not saying you’re attached to her, but I’m just saying that there’s already an emotional connection, and I have a feeling it won’t be long until it becomes something more serious.”

Chan looks at the youngest in awe, smiling like a proud father as he slowly claps his hands. He puts a hand on Jeongin’s shoulder and gently shakes him before turning to Minho, “You know, I do have to agree with Innie on this. You don’t even have to act on feelings or whatever. Just...try not to close yourself or your doors, alright? Maybe you’ll earn another new friend along the way.”

“I don’t need her if I have you guys.” Minho lightly punches the bag a few times, “She’s a waste of time. I just need her to finish her part so we can finally conclude this long mission.”

“You’re probably going to shoot me for saying this,” Jeongin starts as he hides behind Chan, “but are you just saying that because she reminds you of Jiyeon?”

At that, Minho shoots a glare at the two males, eyebrows furrowed. Jeongin sheepishly chuckles, but he boldly presses on. “Changbin told us...how much y/n reminds you of Jiyeon, and well, yeah, we do see it too. Is that why you don’t want to get attached? Not even romantically...platonically, even.”

Minho’s eyes soften as he looks down at the floor, “I’ve made myself clear when I said that emotions are a waste of time and are a useless distraction - things I can’t afford in this job. I’m here to protect people, not make friends and fall in love.”

Chan hums, offering a slow and easy smile as he looks at the male with warmth. “Y/n isn’t going to kill you. Or us. Or anyone for that matter.” the eldest agent states confidently, “It goes against her principles...against the doctor in her. That’s more than enough to convince me she’s on our side.”

“Wasn’t that what we thought of Jiyeon?” Minho scoffs, “Noble woman serving the organization to protect the people because of her pure heart?”

“No.” Chan says in an instant, his voice filled with certainty, “Y/n cares about lives, otherwise she wouldn’t be here. She’ll do everything in her power to fix this just so she can prevent harm...and maybe find peace from whatever past is haunting her.”

Then Minho and Chan stare at each other, a brotherly connection swarming in their eyes as whatever determination Chan has to share makes its way to Minho. The eldest agent then continues with a softer, more apologetic voice, “Jiyeon...is the opposite of y/n, now that I think about it. Y/n reminds you of the mask Jiyeon had, but not Jiyeon herself. That woman...worked in the complete opposite way of what we stand for - what y/n stands for.”

Minho releases a sigh, slumping down onto the bench beside Jeongin. With a groan, he leans his head back and rests it against the wall. Chan chuckles, giving his friend a light pat on the shoulder.

“Jiyeon’s gone, so let go of her now.”

A day later, Jung sends Minho and a small team to a factory site for investigation. He requests your presence as well, as the factory was used for chemical experiments, and you might have additional input as the investigation is carried out.

You sit in the backseat of the car, staring out the window as Minho sits next to you, and despite being on the other end of the backseat, you can feel his warmth radiating from him. Usually, he’d be driving or seated in the passenger seat if Chan was driving. But right now, two other agents were in front, and while Minho was supposed to sit in front, he swapped places with the other agent and sat with you.

Though, if you were being completely honest, you couldn’t decipher why, because right now, the man has barely spoken or looked at you. It’s a quiet ride, and you aren’t sure if it’s because he’s with agents who aren’t his usual circle of friends; you decide to keep quiet as well.

The agent driving parks the car by some trees along with another car before your groups begin to trek up a small hill that leads to a secluded factory building. The other agents go their own way with Minho reminding them to keep things subtle and quiet. The male agent then addresses you, but he does not look your way, “Follow me.”

Not that you really cared, but his indifferent - or more indifferent than usual - demeanor slightly puts you in a confused state, but you follow him nonetheless. Once inside the factory building, you look around and whisper, “Is this an abandoned site?”

Minho shakes his head, sharp eyes looking around, “Technically not. Cle occupied and used this site, but as per intel, they’ve only recently relocated the operations for this place somewhere else. This is now just a backup hideout, in simpler terms.”

You nod your head, and Minho continues, “We’re here to investigate, nothing more, nothing less.”

“Ok.”

With that, another blanket of silence befalls you two, and you find yourselves searching and investigating the room you were in. You both work in silence, and while it has its pros and cons, you can’t help but feel uneasy. On the bright side, you could focus on your task at your own pace and not get distracted, keeping things to yourself if needed. However, you’re slightly used to him asking questions and checking on you every now and then, so you can’t help but think if he’s upset or angry.

Or he knows something about what you’ve been hiding.

Impossible; that couldn’t be the case right?

He’d confront you if that were the case, not avoid you...right?

Unfortunately, there’s nothing of interest and significance in this room, so you tell Minho. It would seem he has the same thoughts because he furrows his eyebrows and gestures towards the rooms down the hallway nearby. “They must have swept this place clean.” he sighs tiredly, “Let’s move on.”

You nod and follow him in silence, the agent carefully and quietly navigating through the confusing halls and rooms of the factory building. Unfortunately, it was as he said; it would seem Cle did a good job in making sure no traces were left for SKZ to pick up on, leaving you empty-handed. The agents communicate with Minho through their communication devices and inform the male that they’ve moved on to the North building which was on the opposite side of the factory compound.

You and Minho head to the last location to scout, and it turned out to be a run-down lab room. The interior and leftover equipment and tables were clean, but you could see specks of rust forming on the surface. You gingerly brush your hand on one of the table surfaces, sighing, “This kind of environment could affect whatever chemicals and substances they were working with.”

“Unless this is a set-up to make it look like they haven’t been doing anything here.” Minho points out, squatting down in front of one the shelves lined with bottles of murky liquid and chunks of...whatever specimens, “Any idea if these will be useful?”

You walk over to him and look at the stuff on the shelf. You sniff the bottles of murky liquid before contorting your face in disgust, “This is just stagnant water. It’s murky because of dust and dirt.”

“But these…” you trail off, tilting your head to examine the containers with whatever solid specimens, “...these are…”

You gulp, unable to finish your sentence as your mind finally registers what those specimens were; pieces of body parts that had long decayed, probably to be used for observational purposes but rotted over time.

Minho notices the way you stiffen, gulping hard as if urging yourself to keep the bile to yourself. He breaks whatever “silent treatment” he had going on, putting a hand to your shoulder to get you away from the shelf. He steps in front of you to block your view, bending slightly just to get to your eye level. “Y/n, just rela - ”

He doesn’t get to finish his words because in a split-second, his eyes leave yours as they fill with urgency. Before you know it, he grabs your shoulder more firmly and pushes forward. You yelp as you land on the ground with him on top of you at the exact same time you see a small dagger lodging itself into the shelf. Your eyes widen and fall to Minho who already has his icy eyes on the newcomer to the room.

He mutters a hurried “get out of here” before getting up and facing off with the stranger. However, you can’t bring yourself to move, frozen on the floor as you watch the stranger lunge for Minho. The two men engage in a frenzied hand-to-hand battle, but it would seem like the man is at par with Minho, keeping up with the skilled agent’s moves.

Minho refuses to draw out his gun to make sure he doesn’t make any noise to prevent attracting attention should there be more enemies around the area. He manages to gain a short upper-hand, sending the enemy a few feet back with a strong spinning kick. He then rushes over to you and grabs your hand so that he can pull you to your feet.

“Let’s go.” he says in a low voice, not wasting any time in running from the room.

You’re both running as fast as you can, hand tightly gripping each other’s as if your life depended on it. You arrive in one of the open-space rooms, and as you continue to run, the wooden floor below creaks softly. The enemy is a quick runner as well, somehow managed to catch up with you two. He reaches out, grabbing your other wrist and pulling you from Minho’s grasp and pulls his fist back to land a punch. The agent refuses to let him do so and turns around, using whatever momentum to pull you behind him just as the enemy’s fist lands on his jaw. The impact causes Minho to let go of you as he falls to the side, and you find yourself yelling his name.

The opponent chooses to go for Minho instead of you, picking the agent up by the collar of his shirt. He bashes his head against Minho’s, and while the agent winces in pain, he grits his teeth and fights back, back to being on equal ground with the enemy. They engage in another physical combat, landing blows on each other here and there. As if nothing could be worse, another stranger runs into the room, grabbing you from behind in a choke-hold.

You do your best to stop him from suffocating you, kicking and trying to elbow the man behind. Minho sees it from the corner of his eyes, clicking his tongue in exasperation. His opponent lunges an arm forward, holding a knife, so Minho grabs said arm and pivots with complex skill, doing some sort of flip and twisting the enemy’s arm so he could end up behind the agent. With the opponent in a similar choke-hold, Minho grabs the knife and skillfully throws it towards the stranger holding you.

Unfortunately, because you were both moving a lot, the blade seems to approach you instead. Your eyes widen with fear, but thankfully, it only shallowly cuts your cheek before lodging itself into the stranger’s neck. He lets go and collapses on the ground with a thud, blood now pooling around him.

However, because of that moment, Minho’s opponent gains the advantage once more, headbutting Minho’s chin, prompting the agent to let go. The enemy is quick to turn to Minho, another knife in his hand to jab at the male who is recovering his bearings. You don’t know how you managed to bring yourself to do it - maybe the adrenaline rush or fear of having Minho killed in front of you - but you pull out the knife that killed the other stranger and run towards Minho’s opponent, stabbing the blade into his shoulder as he was wearing a muscle tee.

You try to ignore the blood painting the enemy’s skin, using the time he takes to get the blade out to rush to Minho’s side. You both then take steps to run away; however, the enemy isn’t too pleased with what you’ve done, shifting his attention to you instead of Minho. As he takes a step forward, however, the wooden floor beneath creaks loudly, and Minho’s eyes catch the subtle splintering around the three of you.

“Minho, let’s go.” you say in panic when the agent seems to be standing still.

Minho’s eyes are stuck to the wooden floor, making some sort of mental calculation in his mind.

One more step.

As the enemy makes one more step, the floor makes a breaking sound and gives out. Minho, however, is able to push you back just in time, allowing you to remain on the unbroken part as he and the enemy fall to the floor below with a sickening crack.

“Minho!”

You see the agent pushing himself to get up with a few coughs, but so is the opponent. The agent then looks up to you, eyes still calm yet with a sense of urgency, “Go now! Run to the rendezvous point! I’ll follow!”

“But - ”

“I promise, just go!”

You bite your lip, nodding in understanding as you turn on your heel and make a run for it. Minho then wipes the blood dripping down his chin and turns to his opponent, a cold and almost cruel smirk playing at his lips, “Now that I don’t need to hold back, I hope you’re ready.”

Meanwhile, you pump your legs as hard and fast as you can, running towards the rendezvous point. Unfortunately, that meant where the cars were parked, but you still had a bit of distance to cover since you and Minho ventured deep inside the building. Just as you’re about to reach the end of the hallway near one of the back doors, you hear gunshots, bullets barely missing you. You try to conceal your screams, ducking down and running into a rather large room, quickly finding a hiding spot behind a cement pillar.

The shooter repeatedly shoots the structure as you cover your ears. Fragments of the pillar crack of and fly here and there, dusting your hair and shoulder with chalky-white bits. After a moment, the shooter stops to reload his gun, and you take the chance to sprint to another hiding spot.

He begins to shoot just as you drop down and make your way behind an old couch, a bullet barely missing your leg. He shoots without stopping, the couch fillings flying everywhere. Another round to reload his gun, and you grab a nearby ceramic vase and throw it to him as hard as you can.

The shooter shoots it, but the split-second allows you to find cover behind a desk in the other end of the room. You curl yourself up, hugging your knees to yourself as you take deep and shaky breaths. In the dead silence of the room, you can hear your shooter’s footsteps approaching slowly, the grasp of fear locking onto you as you cover your mouth. You hear the clicking of the shooter’s gun, and you close your eyes, anticipating the worst.

However, when you hear a bang followed by a thud, you don’t feel anything and instead see a body collapse to the side, thankfully facing away from you. A few seconds later, Minho appears, kicking the body away from you and kneeling beside you. “Y/n.” he whispers.

You let out a deep breath, only noticing now that tears have streamed down your face. Minho’s expression softens, eyebrows knitting in concern as he reaches out to brush off the cement particles that dusted onto your hair and shoulders during the shootout. He then moves to wipe your tears with his thumb.

Never have you seen so much warmth in his eyes as he stares at you, eyes never leaving yours as you let out quiet sobs that rattle your shaky figure.

Despite the cuts on his bleeding lip, bruises painting his cheekbone, blood trailing down from his head to the side, and disheveled hair, he still looked familiar, warm and comforting - like a home you’d return to after a hard day’s work in the hospital.

You didn’t know it was possible for him to look like that.

You close your eyes when his thumb stops brushing your tears away, his hand now moving to cup your cheek with a tenderness opposite of how he fought off his opponents. “Hey.” he whispers so softly, only you can hear it like a secret message, “Are you hurt?”

You shake your head, still trembling. Minho nods in understanding and helps you up before telling you to wait for a second. He walks over to a nearby window and communicates with the rest of the team, giving them an update on the situation. Meanwhile, you kneel down next to the shooter’s dead body upon noticing a small plastic vial filled with red liquid. Quickly, you swipe it and shove it into your brassiere for extra measure. You stand back up, walking over to Minho.

He finishes communicating with the team before gently taking your hand in his, “Come on.”

Without a word, he leads you out, walking calmly towards the rendezvous point. Once there, it would seem like the team was still on the way from the other building, so Minho sits on the hood of one of the cars, eyes still on the sharp look-out for any enemies. You sit next to him, exhaustion clouding your eyes as you stare straight ahead.

“I’m sorry.”

You hum emptily, “Hm?”

Minho sighs, turning to face you. You don’t pull away when his hand finds your face, thumb gently dancing around the cut you got from the knife from earlier. The blood had dried up, but it made its mark. The agent’s thumb is soft as he strokes the skin under the cut, “Sorry about this. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It’s fine.” you clear your throat, looking at him for a fleeting moment before turning your eyes to his chest, “You still saved me, so thank you.”

“And you saved me.” Minho responds, offering a small smile.

You can only nod, the impact of the events finally catching up to you. Tears swell in your eyes again, and you feel a light shiver travel down your spine. Minho isn’t new to comforting people; he may say he doesn’t care, but he knows what to do and how.

So he reaches forward, gently tugging on your arm to pull you close to his chest. Once your head comes into contact with his chest and you feel his arms wrap around you, providing warmth and security, you weakly sob against him. He brings a hand up to your head, softly stroking your hair as he whispers against your temple, “This mission wasn’t supposed to go this way. My bad for not being able to foresee these circumstances. Sorry you had to go through it.”

Perhaps today, you put your guard down enough for him to console you. You let yourself believe and trust him. Just for today. Tomorrow, who knows?

You shake your head and clear your throat, “Not your fault. It’s part of the job, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Minho sighs, hoping you don’t notice the way he holds you closer and tighter, “It is.”

Maybe Jeongin and Chan were right.

Loved you? Maybe not that.

Cared about you? Genuinely? Perhaps he sees it now.

But can he afford such a luxurious feeling? Such an emotion?

Last time he allowed himself such indulgence, he paid a cost too high.

148 notes · View notes

hannie-dul-set · 4 years

Text

sins of lust [yoon jeonghan]

“lust /ləst/ — the mind governed by the flesh is death, but the mind governed by the spirit is life and peace - romans 8:6″

LUCKY 7′S MASTERLIST

PAIRING | yoon jeonghan x female! reader GENRE | college! au, borderline smut, angst WARNINGS | nsfw themes obviously lmao but no actual doing the dirty because i can’t write smut for shit, swearing, jeonghan is the literal devil WORD COUNT | 4.5k

a/n: I’M SO VERY SORRY THATTHIS IS SUPER LATE ; - ; but anyways!! this is my last piece for our luck 7′s collab with @haokyeom :D this was,, very out of my comfort zone but i still do hope that you enjoy :’>

Your mother had always told you to never trust strangers.

“They’re like foxes,” your mother had once said as the both of you gazed through the window of your small cabin beside the thick walls of trees in the woods. Her hands rested gently over your small shoulders, and you two eyes the coat of orange fur speeding through the outside, a familiar stuffed animal hanging limply by its mouth. You had accidentally left it outside while you were playing.

You frowned upon seeing the animal disappear into the trees, and even at your young age, you knew that it was lost forever.

“They take what they can without a hint of remorse. You wouldn’t even know until you see them running away,” you looked up at your mother who stared into the distance with eyes stained in sadness. You turned around, hugging her waist and burying your face into her stomach, and she released a laugh as she patted your head. “My Y/N’s a smart girl, right? Never forget mommy’s words, okay?”

And you did. For eighteen years, you had lived with only the company of your mother, your homeschool teachers, and your precious cat, Salem. There were times when your grandparents would visit, usually during the holidays, but you weren’t exactly close with them (they didn’t seem to like you, either). It was only when you had finally entered college when you were given the chance to actually mingle with other people, especially people that were your age, and it was the first time that you had left to live on your own outside of your homey cottage beside the woods.

Initially, your mother was against the idea of you living in your campus’ dorms, especially the fact that you had to live with another person that you knew nothing of. You weren’t keen on the thought either, but it was far more reasonable than commuting every single day to the city all the way from the middle of nowhere.

At least your roommate was never around.

‘Staying over at Johnny’s xx,’ you sighed upon seeing the text message, and you stepped forward in the light when the person before you did as well. It was only the third week of the semester and you were already wishing for things to go back as they were.

A part of it was your fault for being socially inept, generally avoiding people and not even talking to anybody unless talked to. Your mother’s words rang into your head every single time, and naturally you had built up a wall. This wall was what made you feel comfortable, made you feel safe— you don’t trust anyone here, and it would be better to finish your studies without getting personally tangled with other people.

“Hi! What can I get you?”

Though, there were indeed times where you wished that you were at the very least not so awkward.

“A regular americano,” it took you so much strength to squeeze that out of our esophagus, relieving the tightened airway with a breath of relief when the barista nodded at your order and jotted it down. Hurriedly, you went to sit at an empty table, your racing heart making you move quicker than necessary. God, you wondered how many more trips to campus cafe would it take until you finally got the courage to order without feeling you were being held at gunpoint.

You huffed, squeezing your eyes shut. At least you didn’t stutter today, so that’s improvement.

Stop deluding yourself, Y/N. You’re still—

“Whoa. Careful, now.”

A thud. The feeling of warmth fluttering over your shoulders. An unfamiliar sweet voice seeping into your ears. And you looked up.

“Are you okay?”

His steady grip had left your shoulders but the traces of his warmth were still buzzing over your clothed skin like mini fireworks erupting when he made contact, and when you met his concerned eyes, it felt like you were about to reach the climax of the light show. He didn’t say anything, only waiting for the confirmation to fall from your lips with a worried look on his face. Your heart was still racing, but it was in a completely different rhythm.

You had once felt your heart threatening to bounce off of your chest out of fear, and at times due to excitement. Your pulse rising due to nervousness was already like an unwanted friend to you.

But this.

What is this?

“Miss?”

“I, uh—” the man shot you a smile that was devoid of any malice despite you being a stuttering and mess that was frozen in place. Heat rushed to your cheeks while you were trapped underneath his gaze. You wanted to move but it felt like your mind was completely detached from your body, soaring above your head because you can't seem to grab a hold of it. But with enough willpower, you managed to squeak out a small “sorry’ before shuffling away to the farthest seat possible with your head down.

When you sat yourself on the seat, the first thing you did was look up to the direction of the male, only to see an empty space. You bit down your lip, hastily taking out your laptop from your bag and just move on from what happened, but the racing of your heartbeat refused to let it go. Was this… normal? You let out a choked groan, removing your hands from the keyboard to bury your heated face into your palms. There were times where you hated that you were so sheltered, and this was one of them.

If only your mother wasn’t so protective of you, if only she let you live a normal life, if only—

Your phone started buzzing.

Slowly, you sat up and took out your phone from your jean pocket, and the pace of your heart was slowed down by a surge of guilt.

‘How were classes today, honey? I hope you drank enough water today. Even when I’m around, you always seem to forget. The weekend is just around the corner. Are you coming home?’

You smiled. Of course, your mother had only wanted what’s best for you. Finally relaxing your muscles, you adjusted your position on the chair and silently tapped on our phone.

‘Classes were fine, mom. And that was before! I’ve been drinking a loooot of water, you know? Do you want me to…’

The next day had come. You quietly entered the near barren classroom, the early morning rays leaking through the open glass windows on the wall. You liked this class mainly because not a lot of people are enrolled in it— even if it meant sacrificing a few more hours of your sleep. The less people to deal with the better.

I’ll just take a nap later after lunch. You thought to yourself as you let out yawn, your palm hovering over your mouth as you did. You arrived a little earlier than usual, so there was still an ample amount of time to review for a test for a different class before your professor arrived. You recalled your conversation with your mother yesterday, and you were slightly disheartened when you told her that you couldn’t come home for the weekend because you had a lot of things to finish that required you to be on campus. Even if you wanted to go, you couldn’t risk lagging behind your work.

A few more people entered your peripheral as you were scanning your notes, and you took this as a signal to put it away. You pulled your bag over your lap and tucked in your notes neatly before pulling out your laptop. More people started flooding and you noticed that the seat beside you was now occupied.

“You seem fine today.”

You jolted, the familiar voice entering your ears causing the veins underneath your skin to start buzzing. The moment you turned your head to your side, you were met by a small smile from the man that you bumped into yesterday. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I-it’s fine.”

Has he always been in this class? You’ve never seen him here until now. Then again, you didn’t really pay attention to the faces around you. The gap between your chairs seemed a little too close for your sanity, so you scooted a bit farther to the left.

“Are you feeling alright now?” his voice caused you to abruptly freeze as you tried to discreetly move your chair without being exposed, and you bit down your tongue. As if he noticed the sudden distance between you two, he thoughtlessly moved his chair closer. “You didn’t look too well yesterday considering how dazed you were.”

Why was he talking to you? A lot of people did try to befriend you during the first few days, but it gradually stopped upon them seeing how dismissive you were. “O-oh, I’m fine, uh— sorry for bumping into you,” he had his elbow propped on the table, his cheek resting on his palm as faced you, a seemingly permanent smile on his face that you’ve been desperately trying (and failing) to avoid. Maybe isolating yourself from the rest of the world dulled down your ability to perceive normal human emotions like the stuttering of your heart was trying to tell you.

Jesus, you thought that you were going crazy.

“That’s good to hear,” he hummed, turning his attention to the laptop screen before him. “My name’s Jeonghan, by the way.”

Jeonghan. You repeated in your head. Why did finding out his damned name feel like 200 pounds of gratification? Maybe you were really going insane. He cocked his head to your direction, the curve of his lips that never disappeared aiming directly at you, but they did not part to say anything. Jeonghan looked like he was waiting for you, which caused you to intermittently panic because why in the world was he just staring at you like that?

“It’s not fair that I gave you my name but I don’t know yours.”

Oh.

“Y/N,” your cheeks flared as you spoke, diverting your eyes from him out of embarrassment. “It’s Y/N.”

He released a light laugh before nodding in affirmation, and you swore your heart was trying to run away from you in condonation. It felt like hours had passed it between the seconds of your small exchanges, causing you to wonder when your professor was going to enter and distract you from the fervent blows on your ribcage.

It didn’t seem like your professor was arriving any time soon— the guy was always late so you weren’t even remotely surprised but for the love of god, he could’ve made an exemption today. Your eyes flickered over to Jeonghan’s space on the long table, and you saw him scribbling indecipherable doodles on what was once a blank sheet. You bit the inside of your cheek, debating with yourself over and over again until one side of your mind finally overtook your senses and sensibilities.

You jumped into the ocean when you’ve never even stepped into a lake.

“I—I never noticed that you were in this class until today.”

It took a lot from you to say that one simple sentence, the words barely squeezing past your throat, and you realized just how pathetic you were. Luckily for you, Jeonghan didn’t seem to mind the lapses in your voice, the diversion of your eyes, or the way your fingers nervously thrummed over the white coated desk. Even if he did, he didn’t say anything about it, only sending that angelic smile on your way.

“Really? I’ve noticed you since the first day,” he started. “To be frank, I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while now, but you always looked like you didn’t want to be bothered.”

“You— you wanted to talk to me? Why?”

He shrugged. “You seemed cute,” there was a slight pause before he continued. “And I was right.”

You blinked, gawking at him. Jeonghan was saying such— such unprovoked things without a hint of shame while your face was flaring like it just made contact with the sun. In the middle of you trying to recover, your professor had finally decided to walk in, capturing the attention of Jeonghan and everyone else inside the class. You released a breath that you didn’t know that you were holding and lightly tapped both of your cheeks in attempts to lower your ever rising temperature. You caught the male beside you laughing a little, and when you slightly turned your head to face him, you were struck defenseless with a playful wink.

It was quiet for the rest of the class, but you couldn’t focus. Not when your mind was making a lot of noise, not when your heart was about to explode inside your chest.

And definitely not when the pretty boy beside you kept on shooting you glances in between.

“Do you like movies?”

Jeonghan asked the moment he sat down beside you, and your brows raised at his sudden question. It had been a week since your first encounter with him, and within those few days, you’ve been seeing more and more of him. You weren’t sure if it was a coincidence or if he’d been deliberately trying to squeeze himself into your life.

But what did you know? Nothing. That’s why you let him.

“I do,” you answered, a small smile tugging at your lips. You remembered the times when you and your mother would watch countless movies in just a single day when you were feeling sad. You couldn’t leave the house easily, and when you did it was nothing but forest, forest, and more forest. Sometimes you were lucky to come across a wild hare, or sometimes even a small deer. Which reminds you— it’s been a while since you’ve gone home. You took a mental note to schedule some time for you to go back there.

Your curious eyes flickered over to Jeonghan. “Why?”

“There’s a film festival this weekend,” he leaned back against his chair, legs crossed and arms swinging lazily at his sides until he raised one hand to your face, a finger poking your cheek. “And I’m taking this pretty girl with me.”

“What?”

You gaped, dumbstruck. His lips were pressed into a brazen smile as his eyes were gleaming at you while you were still frozen in shock. He didn’t even ask you— did he think that you were just going to go with whatever he’s saying that easily?

“I—I haven’t agreed to anything!” you rebuked with a quick stammer, which caused a frown to replace the previous smile on Jeonghan’s face.

“But I thought you said you liked movies,” he sat down straight, the legs of his chair making a noise upon meeting the floor. The unabashed pout on his face, accompanied by the confused furrowing of his eyebrows, soon dissipated from his features when he let out a sudden gasp. “Wait, are you saying you don’t want to go with me?”

“I-it’s not that! I’m just—”

You couldn’t come up with any words to follow, distracted by the pained expression that Jeonghan wore. Was he just overreacting to mess with you? Was it fake? Or was he really hurt? Your ineptitude to social cues made you want to rip your hair out of your scalp. Once more, you quickly looked at him before snapping your head away, harshly biting down your lip before taking in a sharp inhale.

“Okay, fine!” Jeonghan’s face lit up, the corners of his lips tugging upwards. “I—I’ll go with you.”

You refused to look at him with how much your face was heating up, but you heard him let out a satisfied hum. It was quiet for a moment, giving u the opportunity to relax your shoulders and release your breath. Looks like the professor is late again. You dug into your bag to take out your notes, relaying yourself before class actually starts, but your actions were halted when you felt a thin, cold object pressing lightly against your arm. You looked over to see a phone, and the phone was attached to a hand, and a hand which belonged to a Yoon Jeonghan who was twinkling at you with an expectant gaze.

“Your number.”

Any moment now you swore that you were going to melt.

Within seconds, you snatched the device from his hands, rapidly smashing down the few digits, and you shoved it back to him at the speed of light. How you wanted to throw yourself out of the window, right now. A quick buzz in your pocket distracted you from your internal meltdown, and you took your own phone out, expecting a text from your mother, but instead—

‘See you on saturday, pretty girl :) hehe <3’

You shot up to meet the smug smile on Jeonghan’s face, and you bashfully looked back down at the message on your phone, feeling a smile of your own blossoming on your face.

It was late at night when you two finished.

Jeonghan insisted on bringing you home, protesting when you said that you said you could make it your way back at the movies, protesting when you said that you can walk through the campus to your dorm building alone, protesting when you said that you can head upstairs by yourself, and now when you had finally reached your floor, he stopped protesting— but he didn’t seem to how any signs of leaving just yet.

“Did you have fun?” he asked in a quiet tone. It was near midnight, and neither of you expected that the festival would go on for this long. You nodded, laughing a little, back pressed against the door leading to your room. Perhaps you were feeling a little loopy and tired from all the movies you watched, some of the scenes that stood out to you still replaying in your head.

He smiled, a few tufts of his hair shadowing over his eyes. “I’m glad.”

“I took note of a few of the films that I really liked! I’ll probably rewatch them with my mom when I get home,” you beamed, and he chuckled at your enthusiasm. “What about you?”

You almost regretted that you asked. Jeonghan was silent for a moment, a pondering look on his face as his eyes stared at the side before quickly flickering back to you. His lips were curved into a playful grin as he ever so slowly closed in on you, causing you to melt yourself into the wooden surface of your door as your heart violently thundered.

“Do you want me to be honest?” he asked in a teasing tone. His face was barely hovering over yours, and you felt your nerves screaming at you to rest your racing pulse. He didn’t do anything, though, seemingly waiting for you to respond to his question, but all you could manage was a small nod. “I wasn’t really paying attention to the movies.”

Your breath hitched and your mind was a whir. What was he doing? The waves of your senses were pulsating in an uneven rhythm, causing you to stumble over your own presence of mind as it was gradually slipping away, replaced by a haze of an uncharted storm of emotions overtaking you.

Heat was rising and you didn’t know what to do.

“I would have paid attention if it wasn’t for this pretty girl distracting me the entire time.”

“Jeonghan!”

You exclaimed, your voice being louder than expected. “I-it’s getting late. Isn’t—isn’t it time for you to go?”

There was a nervous smile on your lips as you stared up at him, eyes quivering when you tried to meet his clouded gaze. You waited for him to go, to step away from his closeness so that you’d finally have enough room to breathe, but dropped an unexpected question.

“Do you want me to go?”

The silence was deafening.

Jeonghan waited for you to say something, but the answer was something you yourself did not know. He waited until he derived the answer from your lack of response, sending you a nod and a smile before turning away. Your eyes were shaky, teeth sinking into your bottom lip in your moment of an unprecedented assault of hesitation, head filled with white noise because you couldn't think— therefore you listened to the fever stirring your restlessness.

You grabbed onto the sleeve of his coat at the last moment.

There was a glint in his eyes when he turned around, a knowing look on his face as if he had been expecting it. Swift steps and an even swifter heartbeat chased after you and once again Jeonghan was mere centimeters away from you, his warm breath igniting fire against your skin. “You could’ve just said so, pretty girl.”

He didn’t even give you the chance to breathe when he captured your unguarded mouth with his.

The air brushing against your fevered skin felt different, especially when Jeonghan was all up against you, ravishing your parted lips until you felt your senses slipping away. God, you’ve never done anything like this before and your conscience belatedly rang in your ears the moment you felt his hot tongue claiming yours as his own. You let out a faint whimper, the voice at the back of your head yelling at you that this was wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong. This was wrong.

You barely knew him— ten days wasn’t enough for you to know him. But you were too drunk over this foreign heat of emotion unfurling in your core to listen to your better judgement. You shouldn’t have stopped him from leaving, you shouldn’t have let him graze his teeth over your skin, let his hands roam all over your your body, let the feeling him pressed roughly against you being the only thing your dizzied mind could think of

But fuck, it felt so good.

You blindly reached for the door knob as you let Jeonghan trail wet kisses on your neck, and with a clicking of the lock, the both of you disappeared into the darkness of your room.

You said that the first was going to be the last— your mother’s words like playing a mantra in your head to bring you to the edge of guilt. But a week had passed yet that “last” never seemed to surface.

“H-hi, mom. Yeah, I—I’m fine, don;t worry. My classes just ended and—ah!”

You bit down your tongue after releasing the uninhibited noise, gulping down when you realized that Jeonghan had no intentions of stopping his ceaseless attacks from your jaw all the way down to your chest. There was fear trickling in your veins as your mother was still at the end of the line, possibly hearing the indecent sounds coming from her own daughter. You tried your best to remain quiet, but it started to become impossible when you felt Jeonghan’s teasing fingers brushing over your clit. You stared at him with wide eyes, suppressing the violent waves crashing over you, but all he did was smile at you and kiss you cheek before pressing his fingers down.

A loud gasp fell from your quivering lips.

“Mm? Shouldn't you be keeping quiet, baby?” he mumbled into your jaw before pressing a down kiss, and you let out a shaky breath. The hand that you were using to hold your phone returned to your ear, and you were welcomed by the worried voice of your mother.

“O-oh, it was just Salem! The little guy suddenly jumped— jumped on my lap,” you trailed off with a hint of nervous laughter, and you met the mischievous glint shining in Jeonghan’s eyes. He removed himself from you, causing you to close your eyes in relief and let out a sigh. “Home? Ah, I—I don’t think I can go there soon, but I’ll make sure to— oh my god.”

You were too focused on your conversation on the phone to notice that Jeonghan was now buried between your legs, nipping at your inner thighs. You slapped your hand over your lips, suppressing your moans from his bites, kisses and licks. He shot you a look of warning, and your heart stopped when you felt his hot breath hovering over your core. Quickly, you fumbled out a farewell into your phone.

"S-sorry, mom, I—I have to go—"

Another week had passed and you started to feel the consequences of your decisions crashing over you like falling debris. Jeonghan and you still met frequently, but "good morning" and "good night" texts slowly fizzled into conversations consisting only of "can I come over?" and "are you free?". It left a heavy feeling in your gut when coffee dates and movie theatres were forgotten, replaced with nights in his or your room, and suffocating scenes in his car. You couldn't help but think that maybe you should have thought things through.

But you were weak.

Today was no different.

You were buried in your bed, thick blankets covering your figure as you watched Jeonghan swiftly pull a shirt over his head. He had an evening class after this and you couldn't blame him that he was in such a hurry. Even when knowing this, you still wanted to take your chances.

"Jeonghan."

You called out to him in a quiet voice, small and fragile and lacking in firmness. He stood in the middle of the room, ready to leave but he turned around to look back at you— even if it was stupid, it bubbled the faintest shimmer of hope. You pulled the covers closer to yourself, looking down at the crumpled white sheets as you pressed your lips together before saying.

"I like you."

He didn't say it back.

Instead he smiled at you, feet padding against your wooden floors as he walked up to you in bed, pressing a small kiss on your forehead before ruffling your already messed up hair.

"I'll see you tomorrow, pretty girl."

But you didn't see him tomorrow.

You didn't see him at all after that.

The seat beside you in class was now occupied by an abhorrent emptiness that made you want to drag your nails against your skin. You tried searching for him in the crowded walls of the large classroom, but he was either not there or hidden by the enormous mass of bodies. He left you with a heavy heart and the only one you could find yourself to blame was yourself. Your mother's words never stopped ringing inside your head since then.

It was like fate was laughing at you when you saw him again at the campus cafe— just like the first time you met him. You were in a hurry to leave when you accidentally bumped into him, your coffee nearly spilling from your hands. You parted ways without anything exchanged.

Your mother had always told you to never trust strangers.

Maybe you should have listened to her words.

#lucky 7's #caratwritersclub #yoon jeonghan #yoon jeonghan x reader #jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan smut #seventeen smut #jeonghan #jeonghan scenarios #yoon jeonghan scenarios

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billyspotato · 4 years

Note

Hi can I get a rafe imagine where they’re dating but the reader loves the pouges and she has like a protection spell especially on Pope and she finds out what he did to him at the golf course w topper and reader ignores him or makes him jealousw JJ as punishment tysm this my first time requesting one so I hope that’s not too much aha

A/N: I changed some things to make it more intense and angsty, hope you like it either way. (Sorry for taking so long, btw)

Best Friend - Rafe Cameron

Words: 3.700+ words

Type: Angst & Fluff

Summary: (What’s in the request)

Warnings: English is not my first language, sorry if I misspell something. Swearing, maybe? Fem!Reader.

A/N: Gif’s not mine :)

You swipe clean the wooden tables while listening to Kiara’s conversation with JJ, silently.

“Y/N, can you give this to the table in the corner please?” Kiara’s dad, Mike, says to you.

“Of course,” You say with a smile.

You discard your wet cloth and wash your hands quickly before grabbing the plate of food and taking it to, who you believe are, some tourists.

They thank you as you place the plate down and as you walked away, both of them started eating their appetizer.

Your phone vibrates on your back pocket and you check it quickly, a text from your boyfriend, Rafe, wishing you a good morning. You smile down at the screen and answer him quickly before Mike could notice, but Rafe is quick to ask something else: if you’re going to the party tonight.

“What did I say about phones, missy?” Mike says, making you look up at him and apologize, smiling at his fake-angry expression.

“Sorry”

You send a quick ‘idk’ to Rafe and shove the phone back in your pocket.

“I’ll see you later, Y/N,” Pope says while walking out with JJ.

“Bye, have a nice day at work,” You tell him, and he smiles at you while waving at you and walking out.

If you had to choose, Pope is definitely one of your favorites guys in Kie’s whole friend group. No offense to JJ and John B, but you always found Pope so cute and innocent. He’ll always be your favorite.

And that’s probably something that Rafe does not like. Even when dating a Pogue (you), Rafe wants you to stay away from that crowd and hang out with him and his kook friends.

As if his crowd is any better.

Kie walks behind the counter as well and gives you a small smile when noticing that you spaced out. You smile back while slightly shaking your head and turn your attention back to the plates.

(…)

It’s been some hours, and your shift is finally done. It’s almost time to have dinner and you’re exhausted. How are you supposed to go to a party?

You say a small ‘goodbye’ to Kie and her parents before walking out.

As you were scrolling through your phone and walking down the small makeshift wooden bridge, you see John B walking back to the restaurant with a frown and a glare.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You ask him once noticing.

“What, are you going to act like you don’t already know?” John B asks you with an angry tone while scoffing at your concern.

“Know about what?”

“About what happened to Pope”

You look at him confused. Wasn’t Pope supposed to be working until now?

“You really don’t know, do you?” John B asks and you shake your head, ignoring the texts that you’re receiving from Rafe. “Pope got jumped when he was delivering groceries in Figure 8”

Your eyes widen in shock right as those words came out of his mouth.

“By who?”

“Rafe and Topper at the golf course” John B says, and you start to understand his anger towards you.

Your boyfriend did this to one of your best friends.

“How bad is it?”

“Pretty bad,” John B says while nodding and looking down at the flooring beneath you, “Pope is at his house, in case you want to see him”

“Yeah,” You say while sighing in disbelief, “I’ll go over to his, then”

John B nods again and turns to walk out of this conversation and in the restaurant, probably, to tell Kie everything. You walk down the wooden path and get to your mom’s borrowed car before driving to Pope’s house.

(…)

After some time of hanging out with Pope at his house and trying to make him feel better, everyone from the friend group started to come inside to the house.

You ignored JJ’s glare as he came in and you went over to the kitchen to make Pope’s favorite sandwich. And Kie comes in.

She sits next to Pope on the couch, taking a look at his bruised skin, but she doesn’t say anything, she just looks.

You walk back and give Pope the sandwich, which got you a smile and a small ‘thank you’ from him. You smiled back slightly and sat on his other side.

“Did they say why they did this to you?” Kie asks, finally speaking.

“Just that I don’t belong to that part of the island” Pope answers before taking a bite out of this sandwich.

You look down as you felt your blood boil. How could Rafe do this? And for what? Some sort of sick entertainment?

You want to call him and make him drive over here just to get screamed at, but you decide not to, for many reasons, but mostly because he has a big party tonight, that you were supposed to go with him. And to be honest, ditching him sounds way better than exploding at him. Especially when he doesn’t know you’re doing it. Guess that that party will be very entertaining. Waiting for his partner the whole time. What a fun time!

JJ continues to send a glare towards you as you heard Kie’s way to change the subject with Pope, but she stops when noticing the blonde’s annoyance towards you.

“Jesus Christ, JJ. It’s not her fault that this happened” Kie says.

“Oh really?” JJ asks with pure anger in his voice, “Because she’s the only one here that is dating a fucking Kook that surprisingly is the one that beat Pope into a pulp” He says, using sarcasm.

“How does that make me at fault here, exactly? Because I date a Kook, JJ? Screw you!” You say, not taking his annoyance anymore, “I might date Rafe that doesn’t make me less of a friend to Pope or less of a human when it comes to knowing what’s right or wrong”

“Doesn’t seem like it” JJ says, “Rafe has done so much fucked up shit and you still date him, maybe you don’t know the right or wrong thing”

“Oh well, excuse you,” You say with a tone filled with sarcasm and annoyance, “Do you want me to dump him over text or call right now just so you can feel slightly better about yourself and what you’re saying? Because, surprise surprise, JJ! I know my boyfriend fucks up a lot, but fuck me if I want to have a conversation face to face with him when shit like this happens”

“I still haven’t seen you plan a conversation with him”

“Oh, shut up, JJ!” Kie says, defending you. “It’s not her fault, she doesn’t control Rafe. He was the one that fucked up, so that means that he should be the one feeling like shit. So, stop trying to make Y/N feel that way”

JJ rolls his eyes at Kie but finally shuts up and leans back on the couch.

“I’m going outside for a bit,” You say in almost a whisper.

Pope and Kie look at you slightly concerned, and you walk around the coffee table to step outside to the warm night. When shutting the door behind you, you lean your head back on the cold wall, deep in thought.

(…)

You tie the lace of the apron behind you when stepping into the restaurant’s open kitchen and you say a little ‘good morning’ to Mike and the other co-workers.

“You look tired, did you sleep well?” Mike asks you.

“No, my neighbor’s dog didn’t shut up for a second, last night” You lie, making him smile a bit.

“That’s rough” He comments, making you say a little, ‘yeah’.

You start by picking up the plates of many types of breakfast dishes and taking them to each table, trying your best into giving a smile to each customer.

You stayed up late last night because of everything that happened. You want to talk to Rafe about everything, but you just don’t know how to. And also, the words that JJ gave you last night also didn’t really help with trying to feel less pressured.

Rafe texted, called, left voicemails. Everything. And you ignored most of them, you read some and heard some of his drunk voicemails, in which he would act like he was sad because you dumped him but eventually, say that he loves you anyway.

So that didn’t really help either.

Today is Kie’s off day at work, which means that you’ll be extremely bored today, but hopefully, she will still have any kind of meal here.

After almost an hour of serving plates of food to many tourists and some locals, and grabbing back the plates, Kie and the guys walk in, ready to have their late breakfast.

Pope gives you a small hug when seeing you, while you are occupied with asking him how bad he feels today, in regards to how sore he is. Which you just got an ‘I’m fine. Better than ever’. Kie and the guys just gave you a small smile as they walked by you.

One of your co-workers goes to their table to ask what they feel like eating and you check if Mike needs you to take anything before you walk over to them.

You sit next Kie and she starts making conversation right away.

You laugh at her and she smiles, grabbing Pope’s and JJ’s attention into the conversation. She continues whatever you two were talking about and you notice JJ looking at you.

You sign with your head as if you were asking him ‘what?’ and he mouths a simple ‘I’m sorry’.

You roll your eyes at him playfully and he smiles as he notices that you are playing around.

Kie continues talking, not even noticing what just happened from two sides of the table and just like that, the group is back to normal.

“Y/N” Mike calls you and you get up, thinking that it’s time to serve more food, “Someone’s here for you”

You freeze when your eyes meet Rafe and the guys stop talking behind you when noticing him.

You unwrap your apron from around your waist when close enough to the barstool, where Rafe is standing, and grab his wrist before pulling him with you to the outside of the restaurant.

“No breaking my plants!” You hear Mike scream as you were walking out.

You two walk out and move over to the side, where the chairs are.

“What the fuck were you thinking, yesterday?” You ask him, catching Rafe in surprise.

“What are you talking about exactly? Because if we’re talking about the party, I was the one that got ignored the whole night”

“That’s what you’re really worried about?”

“About you, out of nowhere, not texting me right after saying that you were getting off work, not answering calls or anything? Yes, Y/N, I was worried about that”

“Don’t turn this around,” You say before Rafe was able to make you two start talking about how he was ignored, “Before the party, around lunchtime, you did something, right?”

Rafe hears you and starts to think, really not remembering anything at first. Until…

“Shit,” Rafe says before clenching his jaw.

“Yeah, Rafe, exactly ‘shit’” You say, “Were you expecting me not to know any of this?”

He doesn’t answer. And you stay silent for some time, letting the silence set in Rafe’s ears. When noticing that he isn’t going to talk about anything else, you decide to talk.

“Just tell me why you did it” You say while bringing your hands to your head in frustration, but he stays silent again, “You don’t have a reason, do you?”

“No”

You shake your head in disbelief and look away from him, not wanting to believe his words.

“So, you just did this out of pure entertainment? Beat up my best friend when he was just working” You ask him, “Do you at least feel any remorse in what you did?”

“Of course, I do,” He says, and you scoff at his words, “I do”

“You couldn’t even remember that this happened when I asked you, Rafe” You say, “How do you expect me to understand your side or even forgive you when you say and do shit like this?”

“Because I did it without thinking. Your friends had been annoying me for some time now and I just, stupidly, exploded” He says, and you shake your head again. “I know I shouldn’t have done it. I know that”

“Seriously Rafe?” You admit, “Your friends also annoy the shit out of me, you know? With their stupid jokes and with their sexist comments. Everything. But you’ve never seen me start arguments or even fight anyone! Why do you feel the need to start this shit every time?”

“I don’t know,” He says, and you scoff again, “I’m serious, I don’t”

You two stay silent. Rafe doesn’t try to defend himself, he just stares at the wooden floor silently. You also aren’t looking at him but at one of Mike’s plants.

“What can I do for you to forgive me?” Rafe asks in a whisper, making you stare back at him and snap out of your thoughts.

“I don’t know, Rafe,” You say, shrugging before looking away to the side. “But you have to apologize to Pope. You know that, right?”

Rafe looks up at you, you’re not even looking at him, and that hurt him, in some way.

“Yeah,” He says, nodding and looking down at his hands.

Silence is set between the two of you again and you look inside the restaurant, where you find the guys and Kie looking at you.

“Should I do it now?” Rafe asks and you shake your head.

“Not yet, everyone is still pissed, even if they don’t show it” You say before looking down at your shoes, getting a glimpse of his hands, which don’t stop moving. “Any other day, just not today. Let this calm down for a bit”

Rafe nods and you look over at him while silent.

“I’ll see you around, Rafe,” You say before leaning forward and walking back in the restaurant, not letting him have time to respond.

As the door closes behind you, you grab your apron and tie it around your waist once more, ignoring your friends’ eyes on you.

Once you start helping Mike with the plating, you notice Rafe finally getting up from his chair outside and walking away, back to his car.

(…)

A week passed, you and Rafe haven’t even texted each other since the altercation on the restaurant. But you both know that you are okay by talking to mutual friends that hang with both kooks and pogues. They’re useful in getting information on both parties.

Talking about parties, you’re in one right now. It’s nothing too crazy, just a bonfire beach party. It’s mostly chill. Just hanging out and meeting new people.

“JJ, be careful,” You say while laughing after he pushed you away playfully, “You almost made me spill my drink”

“Ooh, such a bad consequence of my actions,” He says while waving his arms around dramatically.

“Shut up,” You say while rolling your eyes and also pushing him away by hitting him with your shoulder.

He laughs at your way to hit him and at the way you sip your drink, as far as possible from him, since last time you did it confidently, he just slapped your cup down out of hands and into the sand.

“JJ don’t!” You say laughing, as he moves his hand closer to your drink.

“I’m not doing anything,” He says, smiling.

“Then why is your hand here?” You ask, still giggling.

“Because I’m protecting your face from the sun”

“It’s 11pm, JJ” You remind him of the dark skies that are surrounding everyone.

Pope rolls his eyes at the two of you and then his eyes shift to someone further away.

You follow his gaze, curious and see Rafe, standing with some of his kook friends by the entrance of the beach, looking at you with a frown.

“What is he-” Pope starts to ask but JJ hits your cup out of your hands once again, catching you by surprise.

“Are you serious?” You ask him.

You glare at him and he laughs at your annoyed face, before getting up and offering you another drink as a way to make you forgive him.

“Maybe I should go talk to him,” You say to Pope after JJ walks away and he looks over at you.

“When was the last time you two talked?” He asks before sipping his non-alcoholic drink.

“Last week,” You say, and his eyes widen at your answer.

“Oh, okay,” He says while nodding in shock, “Maybe it’s better”

You look down at your, now trashed, cup and spilled drink on the sand before almost forcing yourself into getting up and walking over to your boyfriend.

Once Rafe notices that you’re walking his way, he’s quick to end his conversation with Topper and Kelce. And once you’re close enough, every single one of his kook friends stare at you.

“Can we talk?” You ask him and he nods right away.

You two walk off to a more secluded area and Rafe decides to be the first one to talk once you are far enough.

“I know I still have to apologize to Pope” He says right away and you shut your mouth to let him talk, “I just haven’t done it because it never seemed right to walk over to your friends and ask to talk to him, especially when you were there. And when he was alone and working… Even worse”

You stay silent while looking at him in the eyes as he continues to avoid looking at you for too long, and you decide to speak.

“Do you want me to get him?” I ask and he nods, “Okay”

You step away from him and quickly walk over back to your friends. Both JJ and Pope look up at you once you stand next to their sitting selves.

“Rafe wants to talk to you,” You tell Pope and he looks at you confused, “I’m serious”

“Why?” He asks.

“You’ll see. It’s nothing too bad” I tell him and both him and JJ get up, “Oh. No, no, no. You’re not going in there” You say while standing in front of JJ.

“Why not? I can’t let my boy go in the lion cage on his own”

“He’ll be fine, JJ,” You tell him, “I’ll be close to them”

JJ sits back down after taking a good look at your face, as if he’s trying to see if you’re lying, and you turn back to Pope, who was waiting for you.

You two walk side by side and when you two are close enough to Rafe, you let Pope walk alone to him and you stay back to let them talk in peace.

You’re close enough to hear random words in random sentences but too far to understand anything.

Rafe looked slightly nervous, but nowhere close to how Pope looked.

You turn to look at JJ and everyone in your friend group is staring at you as if you’re crazy. Why is everyone acting like you just killed Pope?

You look back at the two boys and Pope continues to nod while listening to Rafe, looking way more relaxed than when he got there. You can only hear words such as ‘sorry’, ‘hit you’, fucked up’ and ‘apologize’.

It was a lengthy speech and Pope almost caught you by surprise when he started talking as well. In which you only heard, ‘forgive you’, ‘love her’ and ‘it’s okay’.

You start walking to them when noticing that their conversation has died down and just after two steps and with also them not noticing that you’re closer than before, you see Rafe grab Pope’s arm before he could walk away.

“Just one more thing,” He says and Pope nods, making Rafe let him go, “Do Y/N and JJ hang out a lot?”

“Sometimes, yeah” Pope answers, without understanding where Rafe wanted to go with this.

Until he does.

“Oh, but they’re nothing. JJ just likes to constantly pick on her, there’s nothing between them”

Rafe visibly relaxes and Pope gives him a small grin.

“I’ll see you around, bro. Good luck with Y/N” Pope says before walking away.

“Yeah,” Rafe says before laughing a bit, “I’ll need it”

Pope smiles a bit at you when walking by, without noticing that you probably heard everything, and you walk back to Rafe.

“So, how did it go?” You ask him and he looks down at you.

“Good, he forgave me” He explains, and you nod.

You look down at the sand under your feet and slightly kick it before looking back up at Rafe.

“What was that about JJ?” You ask him and his eyes slightly widen at your words.

“What?” He asks and you smile at him.

“The question you made Pope about me and JJ hanging out a lot?” You ask and he looks over to the side before chuckling, acting like he’s embarrassed.

“Yeah, I didn’t know you heard that” He says, and you chuckle.

“That was all I heard, to be honest” You explain, and he nods before looking back at you, “Were you jealous?”

Rafe bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing out of embarrassment at you and you grab his hand to hold you into yours, just like you used to do, before all of this.

“Just admit it” You whisper, and he rolls his eyes at your playful words. “I’ll take that as a yes”

You look over at your friends and they all circled Pope to listen to what just happened, and you relax when noticing that Kie is smiling at what he’s saying.

“Am I forgiven by you as well?” He asks and you look back at Rafe.

“If you promise you’ll never, ever, do something like this again,” You say emphasizing the word ‘ever’.

“I promise,” He says, and you give his hand a light squeeze.

“Then you’re forgiven,” You say before pecking his lips quickly, catching him by surprise.

Rafe looks down at you with a sweet smile and quickly leans down to you to connect your lips once more. You two smile into the kiss and you cup his face closer to you.

- - - - -

Hope you guys like this one 💖

🌸✨Sorry, but I’m not writing in this account anymore. Go check out my new one @twinklelilstarkey ✨🌸

#rafe x reader #rafe fluff #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #Outer Banks #outer banks netflix #outer banks imagine #outer banks imagines #rafe cameron oneshot #drew starkey imagine

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snelbz · 4 years

Text

broken.

{rowaelin angst}

A/N: So this has been sitting in my drafts for uh. 8 months, and I legit forgot it existed sooo. Enjoy!

The little black box that sat on his dresser haunted him.

Rowan had been staring at it for what seemed like hours without any hope of falling asleep. He glanced at the alarm clock on his dresser. 2:16. His eyes drifted back to the box. He wondered if the diamond inside would gleam in the moonlight streaming through his thin curtained window.

He wondered if she would have liked the ring.

He supposed he would never know.

He didn’t understand how they had gotten here. How he had ended up in bed - in their bed - alone. He reached out ran his hand down the unoccupied pillow next to him.

Just yesterday, she woken up beside him. Just yesterday, she’d slipped out of bed before he was awake to make him a cup of coffee. It was still steaming on his bedside table when he’d woken up, though she was long gone, hoping to beat the morning traffic heading into Orynth.

He’d gone back through their texts from the day over a hundred times already, looking for some clue or sign of what was to come. There was none. They’d talked about nothing out of the ordinary, but that had been his goal. For her to suspect nothing and assume that it was any normal day.

At lunch, he’d called her. He’d suggested they go somewhere nice for dinner, rather than the regular take out one of them picked up on the way home, the one element crucial to his plan. If there was no fancy dinner, there was no proposal.

But he didn’t expect her to say no.

“I’m swamped with work,” she’d said. “I really just need to go to my apartment tonight and focus on these files.”

He’d offered, “I’ll come over then. Pick up dinner on the way.”

“Not tonight, Rowan.”

The tones of her voice made him hesitate before he pushed her.

Rowan’s eyes fluttered shut.

He missed her.

It had only been a day and the absence of her in their bed was agonizing.

Rowan picked up his phone and went to her contact page. He pressed the call button. It went straight to voicemail.

Hey, it’s Aelin. I’m busy. Call later or leave a message. Actually, text me. Why are you calling me in the first place?

The recorded lady told him to leave a message after the beep.

The beep came.

Rowan said nothing. What was there to say?

I miss you. I love you. Come back to me. Please.

Rowan hung up and let his phone fall into her pillow.

He had thought about going to her apartment, but he knew it was pointless. He’d never get inside. Instead he’d paced around his house today. He’d smashed things and broken them. He’d screamed until he was sure his neighbors had heard and was surprised when no police had shown up. He’d punched the wall so hard there was a fist-sized hole in the drywall. As he looked up at it, he clenched his stiff fingers.

Useless.

It was useless.

Pointless.

They had been together since high school. Seven years. Everyone said high school sweethearts don’t end up together. But they were wrong. She was his forever.

Seven years.

And now there was nothing.

Nothing but pain and emptiness and an agonizing hole in his chest that could not be filled.

He called her number again, knowing that it would go straight to her voicemail as it did before.

He did it again.

And again.

Until he finally got the nerve to leave a message after the beep.

“I love you,” he said, quietly, into the phone. “I miss you. I’m so sorry, Fireheart.”

He hung up and stared at the white ceiling.

He knew she wouldn’t be calling back, knew she wouldn’t answer the phone, no matter how many times he called.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Life wasn’t supposed to laugh at you like this.

You weren’t supposed to get a taste of happiness, to see everything you’ve ever wanted in front of you, and all you had to do was reach out and take it.

Only to have it ripped from your grasp at the last second.

He picked up his phone, to do what, he didn’t know. Probably to call again, but he paused. His eyes landed on the blue app in the upper corner of his screen and he tapped on it.

Before his feed could even load, he’d clicked on the small magnifying glass in the corner and began to type. Her name appeared after only typing “A”.

He selected her profile, and a photo of her, beaming at the person behind the camera, was displayed front and center. He’d taken the photo, on the ride home from her recent college graduation. The pride displayed on her face was obvious. As was the love in her turquoise and gold eyes.

He quickly closed the app, not allowing himself to scroll through her feed. To see if anything had been posted.

His phone rang in his hand, and even though he knew it wasn’t going to be her despite the late hour, he still hoped. But when he focused on the name on the display, he saw that it was Lorcan, and he declined the call.

He wasn’t in the mood for one of his oldest friend’s particular brand of bad mood tonight.

He had his own to contend with.

He didn’t want to talk to anyone.

No one but her.

Giving up on the idea of sleep, Rowan crawled out of bed as the clock hit three.

He went into the kitchen and turned on the light above the stove.

He turned around.

Her gray cardigan was tossed over the back of one of the chairs pushed up to his crappy, yard sale kitchen table.

They had picked out that table together, after Aelin had convinced him that a kitchen table was necessary and made an offer to the seller. The offer included the kitchen table and the hideous floral chair Rowan had sitting in the corner of his living room.

He hated that chair, had only put it in his apartment because Aelin found it charming.

Rowan poured himself a glass of whiskey and sat in that ugly chair. He grabbed her sweater as he passed and clutched it in his bruised and sore hand. He closed his eyes and raised it to his face. He breathed in deeply, breathing her in, breathing in the firey, crisp scent of her.

The sob the burst out of him on his exhale surprised even him. He didn’t expect the full body tremors that shook he as the tears finally spilled.

Gods, he missed her. He wanted her. He wanted to talk to her. He needed her to tell him everything was going to be okay.

So he tried to call her again.

“Aes, baby, I love you. I need you.” His voice was a gravelly rasp, barely intelligible into the phone’s microphone. “Please, baby. Please.”

He wasn’t above begging. Hell, he’d done it before. Practically had to do it to get her to go out with him in the first place, the beautiful, sophomore cheerleader, being approached by the boy, covered in tattoos at only seventeen, that everyone said was bad news.

And maybe he was bad news.

Maybe it was karma that had led him to lose her.

Maybe it was all his fault.

She was too good for him. Even the gods knew it. But she had loved him, he knew she did. A deep, all consuming love. That is what they shared.

But Rowan didn’t deserve such a love.

So it had to be taken from him.

Rowan screamed, his glass of whiskey falling from his grasp onto the rug beneath.

He didn’t care.

Let it soak in, let it stain. Let it be a reminder of what he had lost.

His phone chimed on the counter, a signal of an incoming text message, and again, he sprang for it. He unlocked it and read the message, his heart falling when he read the words.

I’m outside of your place, Whitethorn. I can see that the light is on. Just give me some sort of sign that you’re alive in there and I’ll leave you be. Elide is worried about you and it’s cutting into my sleep schedule.

Elide, gods bless her. The sweetest soul that he’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. How Lorcan had charmed her, he’d never know.

Instead of replying, he slowly turned around, shuffled to the corner by the window, where the lamp stood, illuminating his small apartment. With a quick twist of his wrist, he turned the lamp off, plunging the room into darkness.

He just stood there, letting the darkness in his heart match that of his home, and after a minute, his phone chimed again, another text from Lorcan.

Thank you, that’s all I needed.

Rowan closed his eyes and listened to the sounds around him. He could hear the A/C unit, humming quietly. He could hear someone on the floor above’s washing machine as it spun. He could hear a tv on down the hall. But he couldn’t hear the quiet snore that left her when she was deeply and completely asleep. Because that snore was gone. His phone chimed one last time and his eyes snapped open and he looked at it.

And Rowan, I’m sorry about Aelin. I really am.

Rowan read the words over and over, letting them process, but never quite taking them in. His breathing quickened, his heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest.

With a yell of rage, he launched his phone at the wall across the room. It was like a small explosion when it made impact, tiny pieces of glass and plastic and metal ricocheting across the room.

He dropped to his knees and wept.

He couldn’t get over this.

There was no getting over this, getting over her.

It didn’t make sense.

None of it made sense.

Rowan sat on his knees until all of the tears left his body and he eventually fell into a steady numbness.

Was this how it would be?

Living, but wishing he weren’t?

Rowan laid down on the rug, next to the stain from his whiskey.

He had laid her down nights before on that rug and made love to her until late in the night that turned into early morning.

Everywhere he looked there was a memory.

She was everywhere.

So he closed his eyes and tried not to think.

The next thing Rowan knew, there was a banging on his front door and a pain in his neck and back.

The banging continued, but it was accompanied by a lilting voice. “Rowan Whitethorn, I swear to the gods, if you’re in there and don’t open this door right now, I will personally kick your ass.”

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t face the couple he knew was on the other side. Specifically, he couldn’t face him.

He couldn’t look at him and see her.

He couldn’t see the golden hair and the remarkable, identical eyes. Eyes no one but the two of them shared.

He couldn’t take the pity that would be in them.

“Go away,” he said. He wanted to yell it, but his voice came out broken and raspy.

The knock came once more.

“Please, Rowan,” she said.

If it was just Aedion, Rowan would’ve ignored it. But Lysandra’s plea broke him.

Rowan pushed himself off the floor and stumbled to the door. He knew he looked like shit, smelled like shit, but he didn’t care.

He cracked open the door and peeked through the slit. “What.”

He didn’t meet their gazes.

He knew they would be loaded with pity, and he couldn’t take it.

“May we come in?” Lysandra asked, gently.

That gentleness only made him more agitated.

“It’s not a good time.”

He knew he was being rude. He knew he was being an ass to the people who’d been his family for so many years.

“You think you’re the only one who’s hurting?”

“Aedion,” Lysandra said, a hand pressed to his chest. “We’re here to check on Rowan.”

It was then that Rowan glanced up at Aedion, at the eyes he’d loved so fiercely.

“You don’t need to check on me,” Rowan said, quietly. “I’m perfectly fine being alone right now.”

Aedion’s gaze did not falter from Rowan’s. Rowan wondered if Aedion knew the thoughts that were running through his mind. He wondered if Aedion knew that when Rowan looked at him, all he saw was Aelin.

Seeing Aedion did more hurt than good.

“If you need anything-.” Lysandra began, but was cut off.

“I’ll call,” Rowan interrupted, attempting to sound as if he meant it.

He shut the door without another word, leaning against it after it clicked shut. Rowan slid down the cold, wooden board as Aedion and Lysandra’s footsteps faded away into the distance.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, his back against the door, his feet planted on the floor. Long enough that his legs slid out from under him of their own accord. Long enough that somehow, he ended up laying on the cheap flooring meant to look like wood all day and then all night.

Around 6:30 the next morning, the sun reached the remnants of his phone, the shards of glass reflecting the light directly into his eyes.

He’d promised Lysandra he’d call if he needed something. His phone was in pieces and besides, there was only phone number he had memorized and he knew that one would go unanswered.

His stomach growled, but he never got up, even when the rumbles became empty aches. He just laid there, wondering if it was a good thing or a bad thing that he hadn’t needed to use the bathroom in days.

There was a knock on the door twice, but neither time did Rowan do more than blink at the startling noise.

He’d lost track of the days when footsteps approached his door, a key was fit into the door and the lock clicked as it was released. Rowan was up before the door could be swung open, his hopes high regardless of knowing there was no way she’d be on the other side of the door. Even though no one had a spare but her.

It wasn’t her.

Elide stepped through the door, and Rowan’s breathing quickened. It was as if every emotion he had ignored in the past twenty-four hours came flooding.

A quiet, broken sob fell out of him, and Elide was quickly moving toward him. She took Rowan, who was a foot taller than she, into her arms and held him tightly.

When Rowan’s breathing finally evened out, Elide whispered, “We hadn’t heard anything in a few days, so I got Aelin’s key. I just wanted to make sure that you… I just wanted to make sure that you were okay.”

Rowan said nothing. He didn’t move. He didn’t say a word. He just stood there, letting Elide hold onto him. Minutes passed before Rowan even realized that he was clutching her sweater so hard that his fingers were turning white at the tips.

“Rowan, you-.” Elide began, but paused to clear her throat. “You know you need to go see her.”

The room was silent. The only sound in the entire house was the rain pattering against the windows.

Rowan wasn’t sure when it had started to rain.

“She would-.”

“I know, Elide,” he whispered, sharply, but not unkindly. It had the desired effect though, and the dark haired girl stayed quiet. He rested his cheek on Elide’s head.

There was nothing remotely romantic in the gesture. Elide had become almost a little sister of sorts in the past few years. At first, she was just Aelin’s younger friend, and he’d loved her then. But now that she’d also become his best friend’s wife, that sense of protection he felt over was even stronger. There were many nights he’d stayed over at the Salvaterre/Lochan household, drinking and talking too late into the night, but not just with Lorcan. There were things he couldn’t talk to his Captain and best friend about, things that needed the delicate nature of a female.

“I just can’t yet, El,” he whispered. “I can’t just go over there and-.”

“And what?” She asked, pulling back and gripping his forearms. “After everything you’ve been through, after how long you loved her, you aren’t even going to say goodbye?”

Rowan stayed quiet, a million thoughts running through his mind. He shook his head. “I don’t want it to be goodbye. Not yet.”

Elide’s gaze softened, her palm resting against Rowan’s stubbled cheek. “Then don’t say goodbye. Just...go talk to her.”

Rowan said nothing for a long while. Then, at last, he nodded.

Elide gave him one more quick hug and began to back away. “Don’t go today. It’s rainy and gross and you know how she feels about rain. Go tomorrow, it’s going to be sunny and pretty and-.”

“A new day,” Rowan completed for her. The closest thing to a smile he’d felt in days tugged on the corner of his lip. “Thank you for coming to check on me.”

She paused by the door. “We love you, Ro. We miss you. Things aren’t the same without you. We know that things will probably never be the same but…” She blinked a few times and closed her eyes. “We’re all going to the Stag after work on Friday, like we used to. Should I save your usual seat?”

A real smile, though still sad, spread across his face. “I’ll do my best.”

She smiled and said, “That’s all we’re asking for,” and slipped out the door.

That night, Rowan went upstairs and slept in their bed, clutching her pillow to his chest. Her scent felt like coming home.

Gods, how many days had it been since he’d seen her? How many nights had he slept without her by his side? How many mornings had he gone without feeling her curl into his side, just before his alarm would go off?

How many days had she been gone?

After a night of fitful, but actual sleep, Rowan got up early, earlier than should have been acceptable, once he discovered it was a Saturday, and showered and shaved. He had to look his best for her. He had to impress.

He shrugged on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt before grabbing his jacket off the bedpost and shrugging it on. He looked in the mirror and decided it was good enough.

She had bought him that jacket. She loved that jacket.

He slipped on his boots and headed out the door. The sun was rising, and Rowan almost got lightheaded from the fresh air. It had been a while since he had gone outside.

Rowan headed east once he reached the sidewalk outside of his apartment building. He reached the corner store about five minutes later. They had just opened as he went inside, the bell ringing above the door as he made his entrance. After paying for a small bouquet of red roses, Rowan continued his walk through town.

Not many people were out, just those heading to work or on the walk of shame back to their own homesteads.

Rowan didn’t pay attention to any of them. His mind was on her. He was almost there.

And when he finally arrived, he panicked.

He wasn’t ready.

But he had to be.

The iron gates were open.

He walked through them, the autumn leaves rustling and crunching beneath his boots as he walked the winding path.

Elide had told him where she’d be.

The closer he got, though, the slower he moved, the heavier he breathed, the blurrier his vision became.

He found her.

And when he reached her, he fell to the ground, his knees landing in the damp grass.

It was real.

He didn’t want it to be real.

Real. It was real.

“Fireheart,” he whispered, voice trembling.

Rowan laid the roses down in front of the stone that read Aelin Ashryver Galathynius. Daughter and Friend, and wept.

#snelbz #snelbz fanfic #rowaelin angst #rowaelin #throne of glass #tog #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius

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wulfies-kpop-fanfics · 3 years

Text

One Photo → Mark Lee [2]

↳ Pairing: Mark Lee/Reader

↳ AU: Soulmate!AU - The first touch of two soulmates permanently scars their bodies.

↳ Word count: 2,610

↳ Chapters: Prelude | 1 | You Are Here! | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

⁙ Summary: For an end of the year photography project, you’re tasked with taking a photograph for your favourite group, NCT127, and coincidentally, discover your soulmate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TUESDAY - 2

The next day you get up to your alarm, a little groggy and on autopilot. You mumble a greeting to Rhiannon who is already in the kitchen, eating a bowl of cereal. It's not uncommon for you to be undressed in front of her, so she barely reacts for a few moments when you reach into your clean clothes hamper in the living room and begin to change right there.

However, in the midst of putting on your bra, Rhiannon squeals in excitement, nearly making you pee yourself.

“What the hell?!” You exclaim, now convinced that you're fully awake.

“You-your front! Your entire torso! Look!” Rhiannon stands from the little dining table and approaches you, poking your stomach. You nearly let out a scream yourself when you see it.

Your entire torso, from collarbone to hip is completely covered with scar tissue, as well as the underside of your arms and the palms of your hands. “Rhiannon, I-”

“Turn around.” She spoke quickly, and you obey her. She is silent for a little while, which is freaking you out even more than you already were. When she traces an outline over your right shoulder blade, your skin twitches in response. “(Y/N), this is the largest soulmate scar I've ever seen,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I-” You're barely able to stutter out any words. You stand there, half-naked as your best friend examines you.

“Does it hurt?” Rhiannon pokes and prods on the newly formed scar tissue, primarily focusing on your shoulders.

“N-no, not at all.” You purse your lips. You feel like normal if not a bit overwhelmed.

“This has got to be from a hug,” she concludes, nudging you to turn you back around. “There are perfect handprint scars on your back, too. You hugged Mark yesterday, right?”

“He, uh, hugged me three times,” you confirm. “Johnny and Jaehyun hugged me twice.”

“Then it's one of them!” Rhiannon is squealing with delight. “That is so exciting!”

Your face fell a little, finishing putting on your bra and shirt you picked out for the day. “Yeah,” you say softly.

“What's wrong?” Rhiannon is beginning to look concerned, ghosting a hand over your shoulder.

“It's Mark,” you state, “I can feel it, but…”

“But what?”

“If that's true, everything changes. When he leaves, am I going to be able to handle it?” you finish getting dressed and stop to look at your hands. “I… I already know I won't be able to handle the depression and separation anxiety, I won't be able to handle being constantly sick… I was never taught about any of this and I never even thought it would happen to me.”

“(Y/N)...”

“I need to go. I have class.”

You took in a deep breath as you gripped your tablet pen. You had been spending the last month's worth of photoshop labs on drawing a picture of Iron Man for your digital rendering final, and you had been doing well enough until today. Now that your hands had part of your scar, they gripped your pen differently and you were slowly growing more and more frustrated.

It's not that you were angry that you had found your soulmate, and you were definitely happy it was Mark- but everything was happening so quickly. What were you going to say to him? Would his scar ruin his career? Were you ready for any of this? You looked up to your computer screen, seeing your reflection in the black screensaver. Seems like you had been overthinking long enough for the monitor to go to sleep.

You can see the buds of forming tears in your reflection. They were totally uncalled for and you knew it. Finding a soulmate was a happy time. In a world where all of this was completely normalized, you had no idea why you suddenly started feeling like a freak. On your way to class, you had already started to feel eyes on you. Most scars were small, dainty and cute, like a handshake or a poke to the shoulder- not a giant one that covered your entire chest, the inside of your arms and the palms of your hands. Scars larger than an apple were extremely rare, and ones like yours were the rarest of all.

What a wonderful scar, you heard your teacher say when you walked into class that morning. They say that if your scar is big, you're meant to be together for more than one lifetime.

Maybe that was true, and it felt like a big responsibility you weren't ready for. You jumped in your seat when your phone vibrated in your pocket.

Mark: Are you in class?

You: Yeah, but it's almost done

Mark: What is your classroom number? I'd like to pick you up if that's okay

You: Are you sure?

Mark: Yeah! I wanted to spend more time with you today, I feel like it wasn't enough yesterday

You: You're cheesy

You: My classroom is 103A in M building

Mark: You know it

Mark: See you soon

You found yourself smiling at his texts. Talking to him eased some of your anxiety, but it still lingered in the back of your head. You put your phone down and shake your mouse so the screen comes back to life. Iron Man stares back at you, and you almost close the program. Your thoughts were irrational, and the only thing your scars were stopping you from doing was finishing the touch-ups of the last few pixels of this piece.

Your hands will get used to it, you scold yourself, this is a good thing, (Y/N). You're not your parents.

You're snapped out of your thoughts again as your classmates begin to pack up, the quiet rustle of backpacks filling the room. You look back at your piece, over a month's work put into it and all you needed was maybe five minutes more of touch-ups and it would be perfect.

The next time this classroom was going to be used was later tonight for the college's dungeons and dragons party, so you didn't think anyone would mind you staying to finish up.

The five minutes of touch-ups turned into 20 minutes of improving mistakes you've noticed, and 20 minutes of improving mistakes turned into an hour of being completely absorbed in your work. You had been so focused on everything that you barely even perk up when you hear one of the computer chairs rolling closer to you.

“I thought you went home, Moose,” you say casually, sticking your tongue out and swiping a line of light reflection onto a strip of red plating.

“You have a friend named Moose?” The voice replies, and you nearly jump out of your seat, the pen swiping across the tablet and drawing a large white streak across Iron Man's face.

“Mark,” you sigh, placing a hand on your chest and trying to take in a deep breath. “You scared me.”

Mark smiled sheepishly. “Sorry…” he looks at your computer screen. “I didn't mean to ruin your piece.”

You smile gently, hitting ctrl z on your keyboard. The streak disappears, you save the piece and turn off the computer. “It's okay. I'm just lucky I don't have autosave turned on.”

Mark sighed with relief. “You kinda scared me,” he starts, looking you in the eye. “You didn't come out of the classroom for so long that I thought you might have forgotten. I probably would have left if your teacher didn't recognize me and say it was okay for me to come inside.”

Your frown at him and avoid his eye contact, deciding to focus on zipping up your backpack. “I'm sorry,” you say dejectedly. “I was dumb, but I would just be a downright moron if I stood you up on purpose.”

Mark laughed softly, watching you pack up. “What did you want to do today?” he asked, voice softer.

“I don't know,” you say, standing and slinging your backpack over your shoulders. “I would like to drop this off at my dorm, though. It's kinda heavy.”

“Okay,” Mark nods. “We can start with that and go from there.”

While you travelled back to your dorm, nearly all of your anxiety about your scars disappeared. You talked about anything but the scar that was easily noticeable through your summery outfit. The more people looked at you, the more you wonder if Mark was keeping quiet out of courtesy for your aversion to his first question on the subject.

Mark was sweet, complimenting your outfit and keeping up a strong conversation about marvel movies.

“Have you seen Endgame yet?” you asked him once you got back to the subject of Iron Man, and Mark laughed sadly.

“To my disappointment, no,” he answered, letting you board the subway first, pulling up his face mask. “Haven't had the time.” he stood close enough to you on the busy subway car that you could still hear him properly.

“Well, if you want we could see it,” you offer quickly, blushing and looking away as you saw his smile through his eyes.

“Are you asking me out, (Y/N)?” he asks, nudging you gently with his elbow.

“N-no,” you respond, swearing up and down mentally that you were as red as a tomato.

“I would graciously accept, but how about we wait until tomorrow? I want to catch up a little bit, I haven't watched any of the films in a while, I've been so busy preparing for the tour.” Mark smiled when you turned back to look at him again.

“Okay, well, I have all the films at my dorm,” you say, biting your lip.

“Would your roommate be okay if we stayed in?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, she would be more than okay,” you tell him, which causes both of you to start laughing. “She will probably faint if she sees you again.”

“I think I've had my lifetime fair share of people fainting in front of me,” he says humorously.

“I wouldn't worry. She is working on her finals today and probably won't be back until after you leave,” you say. “We will have the place to ourselves.”

“Okay, that sounds good. I'm looking forward to catching up. Do you have popcorn?” he asks sheepishly.

“Yeah, we-” the subway comes to an abrupt stop at your station, and you nearly lose your balance. Mark catches you before your face ploughs directly into his chest. He’s holding your arm gently as you exit the subway car, and it is then you truly notice that Mark's scars are clearly visible, from his palms to the edge of his t-shirt, just like you.

When you get back to your dorm room, you place your bag and your shoes in the hallway, leading Mark inside. He pulls down his mask and sighs happily, joining you in removing his shoes and placing them on the shoe rack.

“I remember when my dorm was about this size,” he says wistfully, looking around. You frown a little.

“You mean everyone in NCT used to live in a place like this?” you ask, walking into the kitchen to prepare a pack of popcorn.

“Not exactly, the different subgroups all had their own dorms, but they were all tiny, for more than 3 guys to live in at once.” Mark wanders over to you in the kitchen, leaning back on the counter and crossing his ankles.

“I'm sorry,” you say. “I hope it's different for you now.”

“Yeah,” he replies, watching you put the popcorn in the microwave and press the appropriate numbers. “We all live pretty comfortably now.”

You smile at him. “Good, I'm happy. You deserve to live in a place where you're comfortable.”

Mark is silent for a moment. The microwave finishes and he moves out of your way as you grab a large mixing bowl to put your snack in. He’s watching you diligently, and you feel that too familiar pinch in your chest. It's more intense than you've ever felt from just watching internet content of him on your laptop.

“What film did you want to start with?” you ask, leading him to the living room as you pull a tote bag out from under your coffee table that contains your Marvel movie collection. “We can just watch Infinity War if you want, or we can watch them in story order if you're feeling a little daring.”

“You know the order to watch them chronologically?” he asks, sitting down with the popcorn bowl in his lap.

“Yeah. Rhiannon and I watched them all in order up to the release of Endgame.”

“Wow, I'm impressed,” Mark comments, popping a couple of pieces of the snack into his mouth. “What's the order of the last three films?”

“Let me see… it's Thor Ragnarok, Ant-Man and the Wasp and Infinity War,” you answer. “Wanna watch those?”

“Yeah. Let's do that.”

A few hours later you both are now watching Infinity War, about halfway through the film. A blanket had made its way over your laps and the popcorn bowl has been long empty, sitting on the coffee table in front of you.

You can tell Mark is nervous. You're sitting close, your legs nearly touching, and you wonder if you should say something. You hoped you didn't scare him away from saying anything when the topic was brought up the night before. You didn’t want your bitterness to ruin it all.

Once you spare one glance from the movie to look over at him, you notice Mark has already beat you to it. His gaze pierces right through you, and somehow you feel as if Mark is seeing your soul.

“I don't want to make you uncomfortable,” he says, half-smiling at you. “I don't want to repeat yesterday's mistake.”

“It's okay,” You say softly, “you didn't know.”

“But I should have.” He sounds serious and definitely looks the part, too.

You lick your lips as you watch him. There's something that hits you, like a wave of anxiety that is different from your own.

“Mark,” you have to pause to gather your words. “You've known me for two days. Mistakes are bound to happen, and I… I don't actually hate the premise.”

“Would you be okay with, um, talking about it?” The movie is playing in the background, the flashing images reflecting different lights onto Mark's face.

“There is not much to talk about, is there?” you asked, holding up your scarred hand. “It's here, on both of us, and I'm happy. Scared, but happy.”

“You're not upset about it?” he asked, and it was almost like he was bracing for rejection.

You took his hand, lacing your fingers with his. “No. You said you wanted to know someone so well that you didn't have to think about it, right?”

“Yeah, I did.” Mark returned the grip, his eyes glancing between your eyes and your hand. “You're right, we don't have to think about it.” Mark smiles softly at you, freeing his hand from yours so he can wrap his arm around your shoulder, guiding you to lean into his side.

It's maybe two hours later when you're stirred ever so slightly by the jiggling of the lock to your front door. You don't open your eyes, trying to ignore the sound and continue to cuddle into the warm body squished against you on the couch.

Soft voices are muffled through your ears, and in your half slumber you can't exactly make any words out. Fatigue eventually grips you once again, returning to the vivid dream you were engrossed in just moments ago.

#mark lee #mark lee x reader #mark x reader #nct #nct127 #nctu #nct scenarios #nct imagines #reader insert #fanfiction #kpop fanfictions #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines

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miraculouslycool · 4 years

Text

Of Yellows, Pinks and Blues

Summary: "You're afraid, aren't you?" Aeon had asked her, one quiet moment when Marinette had stood out of earshot from her friends. "What? No! Why should I be scared?" She had whispered back. "You brought Chat Noir back to me. We're fine now." "Every hero gets a little scared from time to time. When I met Chat Noir, he was scared of facing you again, but he came back for you. And you are afraid of him still resenting you, but I tell you, your fears are quite unfounded."

Yes, Marinette should have believed her. Aeon was an AI after all. There was nothing she didn't know. But nothing more than her kitty's word - that he wasn't upset with her for letting him go - would satisfy her.

(Contains spoilers for the NYC Special)

Read in Ao3:

Ladybug swung her legs back and forth, staring out at the dark New York skyline, sprinkled occasionally with sparkles from the several skyscrapers.

She avoided googling about Paris entirely, unless it had to do with news about her partner.

Everyone had managed to get away, even if there were injuries. After a year of dealing with akumas, Paris had become very efficient in evading Hawkmoth and Mayura's clutches.

But it still didn't change what had happened.

Paris had been attacked and they weren't there.

Chat had taken responsibility for explaining his and Ladybug's absence while she was still stuck in New York.

Mayor Bourgeois had been surprisingly understanding - if a little grouchy, although that mostly had to do with Chloe being one of the people she and Chat Noir had saved.

Even then, in the livestream from Paris, her heart twisted every time she caught Chat's face twinge in guilt.

If only she wasn't stuck here on the Empire State Building.

She wouldn't have had to pretend to be understanding when Adrien called them after reaching Paris, assuring his friends that everything was fine.

She wouldn't have to look over her shoulder, looking out for a chance that Hawkmoth would strike again.

She wouldn't need to force a smile in every group picture.

She wouldn't have to anxiously check her akuma alerts, worrying for Chat's well being, she could have actually been there with him and gotten to fight with him.

She could have held Chat's hand and squeezed it tighter every time he tried to blame himself.

She had been too harsh, even if she was essentially right to be, as he would point out.

It wasn't his fault. He didn't send that sentimonster. Mayura did. She would tell him that.

She hadn't seen Adrien since that last video call yesterday. And the last she saw of Chat was the flap of his black wings towards Paris.

Jess and Aeon were wonderful, but they weren't Chat.

She hadn't slept a wink in the past two days. Sometimes she would find herself staring at Adrien's text window. He would send messages in the group chat he shared with her, Alya and Nino. Sometimes even in their private messages, he'd thank her efforts in trying to get him to New York even if it ended up in shambles.

What she did even more during those sleepless nights was stare at the little cat toy, turning it over in her palms, waiting for it to ring not for Paris, but for the boy who owned it.

It never did ring.

Today, the sleepless night was just too much to handle, so she climbed out of the hotel's bathroom window. The hotel's air conditioning could never compare to the crisp air of nighttime.

She didn't know why she was acting like that cat toy was their only form of communication. They had a yo-yo and baton. They would text using those while they were on the same rooftop just for the fun of it.

"You're afraid, aren't you?" Aeon had asked her, one quiet moment when Marinette had stood out of earshot from her friends.

"What? No! Why should I be scared?" She had whispered back. "You brought Chat Noir back to me. We're fine now."

"Every hero gets a little scared from time to time. When I met Chat Noir, he was scared of facing you again, but he came back for you. And you are afraid of him still resenting you, but I tell you, your fears are quite unfounded."

Yes, Marinette should have believed her. Aeon was an AI after all. There was nothing she didn't know.

But nothing more than her kitty's word - that he wasn't upset with her for letting him go - would satisfy her.

A tear slid down on the screen of her yo yo.

The last message from him was three days ago, before she had left Paris. It was a silly pun about cats and yarn.

She missed him. She missed him terribly. Atleast she could quietly miss Adrien while getting to see him everyday in class. She saw Chat Noir everyday, and the single hour when he was lost to her forever still felt like a nightmare she couldn’t shake off.

'Get it together, Marinette. You basically drove him off,but he came to you anyway. Just...text him. It's just a text.'

‘Hey, Chat.’

She didn't dare nickname him. She didn't dare to be more familiar than she was supposed to.

‘I don't know if you're there but, it should be 8 PM in Paris. Are you doing okay?’

Before she could even cringe at her text, she pressed the send button.

There.

He was probably so busy, he probably wouldn't even notice.

Her yo-yo pinged, making her jump.

"I am hereww!&^" he had replied.

He had replied!

He had replied and he never made typos! Was he really that excited?

"M'lady, are you there?"

There he was. Back on the grammatically correct train. Her eyes were so blurry with relieved tears, she almost didn't notice the tiny wiggling in her belly.

That must have been her stomach tingling in excitement.

When she wiped her tears, she realised it was actually her cat toy, squeaking in her lap.

He was searching for her.

‘I'm here!’ She practically shouted as she typed.

‘How is Paris? Is everything okay? Is there trouble again?’

‘No, none. Everything is practically quiet. Wait, so why are you transformed?’

‘Why are you transformed?’ she shot back, trying to divert the conversation.

‘I was taking a shortcut to my house, everything is fine here too. I've been sneaking out to help the construction workers with restoring the buildings and collecting the debris.’

Her heart practically melted. He didn't know that she knows he doubts himself sometimes, but to her - Chat Noir was a hero in every sense of the word.

‘You noble soul.’ It was phrased like a joke, but she meant it.

Now he was going to brag about him being a gentlecat and then everything would be back to normal-

‘Not really, though.’ he replied, and she could hear the guilt in his words. ‘It's the least I can do after I messed up.’

"Oh, Chat..." she said to herself, feeling terribly sorry for him.

‘It's not your fault.’ she texted furiously.

He didn't reply for a few minutes, and then it came again.

‘Where are you in New York?’

So she wasn't the only one good at deflecting. She briefly considered making something up, identities had to be protected after all, but it was far too late and she was too tired to even think of an excuse.

‘On top of the Empire State Building.’ she sent, thinking about his reaction with bated breath.

‘I wish you were here with me…’ her fingers spelt out the words before she could register them.

By the time she did, she frantically tried to backspace.

Sometimes she hated how tiny her yo-yo screen was. And how close the send button was close to the backspace one.

"NO NO NO!" She almost dropped her yo yo. She hadn't meant to send that!!

He had read it.

‘Chat? Are you there?’ She tried to avoid the exclamation points.

She didn't want to hurt him by saying she didn't mean to send that, but also, she didn’t mean to send that!

‘Sorry, I have to go, I'll talk later.’ he finally replied.

That was enough to send Marinette into a panic.

Oh no.

She had massively screwed up, hadn't she?

She just kept on rambling about Paris and she never asked about him, no wonder he was upset! If she was him, she would hate herself!

‘Chat? What happened?’

Oh no. What if there was an akuma? Was that why he left?

But her cat toy wasn't ringing.

Maybe something came up and he had to detransform! Yeah, that was a reasonable explanation, and if he needed her, he would tell her!

What if she had messed up things so bad he realised he was better off without her?

"M'lady!"

She couldn't believe her ears.

Her head snapped up, and her jaw dropped.

"Chat Noir?" She whispered.

No, she was just dreaming. There was no way that was him, that was just a crow or a bat.

The figure landed on the roof a few steps away and muttered, "Claws in."

No crows or bats in New York. Just one Chat Noir.

His brightly glowing bell diminished into its usual golden glossy sheen. Chat Noir’s face held a cautious sort of happiness as he searched her face, trying to gauge some sort of a reaction.

Was she mad at him? Was she going to throw him off the building or force him to fly back to Paris?

He heard her let out a strangled sob as she threw her arms around him again.

"You're here, you're really here!" She squealed into his shoulder.

He had to bow down a little to hug her better, and it resulted in her being cocooned into his arms even more.

"I missed you." He said immediately.

"I missed you too." She pulled back, holding his face in hers. "I still can't believe..."

He laughed, trying to blink back the tears in his eyes.

"You asked for me, m'lady. How can this cat ever refuse?"

"How are you?" She asked, her heart thumping hard.

Her hands were still on his chest.

"How are you , m'lady?" he held her hands, squeezing them tightly.

"I'm only here for another day, but I'm dying to get back to Paris." She said, pulling him down to sit with her.

"Are you feeling homesick?" He asked, his eyes crinkling.

"Yeah. Looks like Hawkmoth will follow us no matter where we go." She sighed, fisting her palms. "He didn't bother showing up there, did he?"

"No. And I'm keeping a lookout everywhere." He said hastily.

He would never ever betray his lady ever again, and he wanted her to know that.

"I'm patrolling everyday and keeping up with every news source and-"

"Hush, kitty." she placed a finger over his lips. "I know. You don't have to tell me."

He managed to smile weakly.

"I got you something." He said, pulling out his baton.

"It has only been 5 minutes! How did you even-?"

He pressed a button on his baton, and its end opened, and out bloomed six roses, in three different colours.

“Yeah, I didn’t know it could do that either.” He sniggered at her incredulous expression.

"I've been waiting to give you this the minute you came back." He held out the tiny bouquet. “But you know, circumstances have changed.”

Marinette was well versed in flower language. It was a part of her wild fantasies back in the day when she would dream about Adrien giving her red roses for love or pink for admiration or violet for enchantment or-

Oh, Adrien....

Marinette's heart panged as she remembered his kind, gentle eyes, never wavering despite her crazy antics.

And if she squinted, it was almost as if she could see them now-

"M'lady?"

"Chat, I-" she stuttered, accepting the bouquet of yellow, blue and pink roses. "Thank you, I just wasn't expecting this!"

Did she just try to see Adrien in Chat's eyes?

It was official, she had gone bonkers.

"Yeah, and look, I researched them this time too!"

Ladybug knew exactly what the flowers meant, but she wanted to hear it from him.

"Yellow means friendship, as you already know," he babbled excitedly. "But blue means trust and pink means gratitude."

Even if she expected to hear those words, actually hearing it from him made her heart race.

"I...I just wanted you to know that, no matter what happens, I will always try to do my best to be the partner you need and...I can't even begin to thank you for being stuck with someone like me."

Something about the way he said it - it gave her a strong case of deja vu.

Quickly dispelling those thoughts, she gathered herself together.

She really couldn't imagine Chat Noir going around thanking people for being in his life.

Life surprises you everyday.

"Silly kitty. You already are the only partner I'll ever need. Nothing is going to change that."

To her surprise, he still looked uneasy.

"What's wrong?"

"I messed up a lot that day." He sighed. "In more ways than one."

"What do you mean?" She asked. "You know Uncanny and Majestia don't blame you! I don't blame you!"

"No, it's not that." He said, desperately. When she still looked sceptical, he took her hand in his and placed it over his heart. "I promise you, no matter what I feel about that, I'm never leaving you. I promise."

"Then why didn't you contact me?" She asked, and she couldn't take those words back.

Seriously? She sounded like a whiny girlfrie-NOPE, she was not going to complete that sentence, nuh uh.

"I didn't want to bother you." He said, his eyes downcast. "I figured, since you're coming to Paris tomorrow-"

Gathering up the last bit of courage she had, she kissed the top of his head.

"Chat Noir, getting to fight alongside you is one of the best things that has ever happened to me, and I won't stop repeating it until you believe it."

Flashing memories of thunder and a skidding bike and stinging skin invaded her mind.

She had screamed for Adrien to stay but he couldn't hear her.

And she had the gall to say 'I love you', as if he was there in front of her, listening.

She really was pathetic.

"I know, m'lady." He said and she flinched for a moment, terrified if he had heard the raging battle in her head.

Oh, he was responding to what she said.

She shook her head. It didn't matter.

Adrien was miles away, and when she got back to Paris, he would be further away from her.

And Chat Noir was here! He needed her, he came looking for her; always, always came back to her.

"Then what do you mean, you messed up in more ways than one?"

"I don't know if I can tell you without endangering our identities anyway, so, it's okay, m'lady." He smiled sadly. "It'll be okay, it's just me being stupid."

‘Screw their identities.’

She could not believe she had thought that.

Okay, maybe that wasn't the case all the time. But right now, he mattered more.

"Tell me as much as you can. I'll try to help."

"Are you sure - I mean -"

" Chaaaaaat ." She pouted and he relented.

"Okay, okay." He managed to chuckle before the mood became somber.

"I was in New York for a day and...I came with a group of friends." He said, measuring out his words carefully. "And well, all the things with the American Heroes happened and well...I had to leave."

"Wait, you were leaving? For real?" Ladybug's eyes widened.

"Yeah, but Uncanny caught me just in time."

She didn't want to think about what would have happened if she didn't, so she just squeezed his hands and motioned for him to continue.

"So um, I was leaving and....and I was originally not going but one of my friends, she tried so hard to make it possible for me to come and - I felt like I had screwed up everything."

Ladybug squinted slightly, but managed to give him a sympathetic smile.

"And, recently I got in touch with N- I mean, one of my friends and I got to know that she chased after me, trying to get me to stay and....I didn't even know. How can I face her after something like that?"

Ladybug's breath hitched.

No.

It couldn't be.

"If she never forgives me, I'd deserve it because, I am -" he blinked. "I always knew she cared but I didn't realise she cared about me this much. I don't deserve-"

"Stop it!" Ladybug snapped, putting the roses on her lap aside. "Stop...stop saying you don't deserve anything!"

"M'lady, I...I don't know how to say this." He said, pulling his hands out of hers.

"I've been trying my best to move on from you. I know you don't see me in that way and I understand, but it's just so hard! And being with the girl I'm talking about - she made it easier - she's so beautiful and talented and amazing and smart, just like you and now I'm-" he put his head in his hands and groaned. "I'm making no sense!"

This made no sense!

She couldn't have been chasing after Chat Noir himself!

He had a life of his own, had friends of his own, a girl whom he was probably in love-

Finishing sentences seemed to be the bane of her existence today.

Chat Noir had every right to be in love with anyone he wanted. Just like-

She had run after Adrien! Not Chat Noir! Adrien wasn't the one confessing his love for her on a daily basis, she hadn't fought to bring Chat Noir to Paris, Adrien wasn't here right now, in front of her, giving her flowers!

Somewhere in her troubled heart, she wondered if her whispered confession in a damp street in the rain was only for Adrien's ears...

"This girl. Do you...do you love her?" She asked quietly.

"There's no way she'd love me. She's way out of my league." he said meekly.

"Answer my question, Chat. Do you love her?"

He gulped before answering. "It took me a while, and I don't know if I should even go with this, but, yes, yes I do." He said it so reverently, like it was a precious secret he was tasked to guard with his life.

"You should know something about her.” the words were spilling over before she could jam a lid on it. “She did try to run after you. She tried to get you back but it was raining and-" she choked out a laugh. "-and she skidded and fell like the klutz she is, and she just can't handle how kind, and good and loyal you are, and she was calling out for you, trying to tell you she's sorry for saying the things she said, she's sorry for making you give up your ring and that she loves you. Both sides of you, Adrien."

Chat had a mildly confused look on his face before his skin turned a sickly pale colour.

He opened his mouth but nothing came out. He made do with gripping her shoulders tightly.

"Please," he pleaded. Ladybug was comfortable with Chat Noir holding her shoulders but Marinette was still tentative of Adrien's touch. "Please, please tell me I'm talking to Marinette, m'lady. Please tell me I'm not too late."

"You are." She whimpered in happiness as she released her transformation. "And no, you're not too late."

Seeing his face split into the widest grin there was made her heart burst.

"It's you! I thought...oh my god, I hoped but-CLAWS IN!" he practically shouted and Adrien Agreste stood there crouching in front of her, his eyes just as teary eyed as hers.

"Finally!!! I thought I would never get to see the end of this!" Plagg wailed but Tikki shushed him, watching fondly as Adrien pulled Marinette into a crushing hug, both of them crying and laughing at the same time.

"We are so stupid!" Adrien was yelling into the night.

"We couldn't get past automatic doors!!" Marinette let out a muffled laugh into his chest, before shivering.

Oops. She had forgotten she was still wearing her pajamas.

"Oh no, you're cold." He realised, and without missing a beat, bundled her up in his overcoat.

His coat was warm and comfy and felt like his warm hugs. "Did you come here straight from home??"

"Yeah..." he replied, mesmerized, taking in every inch of her face. "Don't worry, my dad is out of town and....you're wearing your hair down." He said, absentmindedly reaching to twirl a strand in his fingers.

Marinette blushed heavily, before realizing something.

"Oh no."

"What, what is it?" He said, barely noticing the kwamis disappearing into his coat to give them privacy.

"It's not your fault you weren't in Paris, it was mine!" She moaned. "Oh, kitty, I'm so sorry I said those things to you! And for putting you in that position!"

"Now before you both go, 'It's my fault' AGAIN," Plagg peered out from Adrien's coat pocket. "Need I remind you that your old man only told you were going at the last minute so you couldn't change your mind? And it was me who convinced you. If anyone is at fault it's me."

"No, Plagg, of course not. It's no one's fault. Uh, I mean, just the going to the New York part, and even then-"

"Marinette, you and Plagg were only looking out for Adrien." Tikki said comfortingly. "Adrien, there's nothing wrong with wanting to be with your friends. Even heroes deserve a break sometimes."

Adrien was the first to relent.

"They're right." He leaned in, kissing his lady's cheek. "Too many variables, and frankly at this point, I don't even care." He murmured. Their faces were barely an inch apart.

"Did you like New York?" Marinette stammered, not being able to compute.

"Oh yes, I definitely loved it." He said, in no way suggesting that he was referring to New York. "The dances, the food...the sights..." they were leaning in before Plagg interrupted.

"The automatic doors?" He asked dryly.

"Plagg, I swear to god." Adrien growled.

"I'll handle him." Tikki said, pulling him into Marinette's purse.

"Now, can I kiss you?" He asked, hesitantly, pulling back a little. "Because if you don't want to-mmf!"

He was interrupted by Marinette grabbing his shirt and pulling him into a fierce kiss.

He grabbed her waist, seating her into his lap as he tilted his head to capture her lips better.

"Marinette..." he breathed, once they pulled apart. "You have to warn me before you do things like that."

She barely opened her mouth before his lips were on hers once again, but they left quickly to press haphazard pecks all over her face - her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks, her nose before dropping to her lips again.

“I love you, I love you so much, m’lady.” He whispered in between every kiss.

“I love you too.” Marinette reveled in finally getting to say those pesky words.

They allowed themselves an hour of being in each other's arms before Marinette finally asked, nestled in Adrien's embrace as she cradled the roses he bought her. "Where do we go from here?"

"Wherever you want." He said simply.

"Does that mean that I get to shock everyone by running into my boyfriend's arms first thing at school?"

He sighed happily at the word boyfriend, and then laughed one of his rare laughs. "If I get to give you red roses everyday? Deal." He tilted her chin to kiss her again.

"Now, can the knight in shining armor carry his princess back to her hotel room?" He said, taking one of the pink roses and tucking it behind her ear.

"I have a yo-yo of my own, you know." Marinette said flatly. ------------------------

If any New Yorker saw Astro Chat carry a fully transformed Ladybug bridal style in the middle of the night and didn't think much of it, it was only because the city had too many superheroes already.

#miraculous ladybug #ml spoilers #ml nyc special #my fics #ladynoir #adrienette #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng

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missfangirll · 3 years

Text

Tie your heart to mine

Fandom: SCI Mystery Relationship: Zhan Yao / Bai Yutong Tags: Case fic, Angst with a happy ending Chapters: 3 Summary: Zhan Yao has disappeared.

Read on AO3

By night, love, tie your heart to mine, and the two together in their sleep will defeat the darkness.

--Pablo Neruda, Love Sonnet 79

Chapter 1: Descensus Averno

The world went to hell on a Thursday.

Bai Yutong couldn’t even remember the reason for the fight he had with Zhan Yao that Sunday. It was probably something stupid, like whose turn it was to do the dishes, and yet it was all he was able to think about later.

They had still been arguing the whole drive to the airport, Zhan Yao hadn’t even looked back or said goodbye when he had gotten out of the car, hauling his suitcase through the lobby, his whole body tense, shoulders square, his steps determined. Bai Yutong had watched him until he vanished in the crowd and wished he wasn’t so stubborn. They both were. He loved his cat with all his heart, but living together didn’t always bring out the best in either of them.

Because of the nature of their parting he hadn’t been surprised when Zhan Yao hadn’t called from the hotel that evening, or any other evening that followed. Sad, yes, angry and hurt, but not surprised. He had spent the whole Monday hiding in his office, going over some cold cases a good enough reason not to examine his feelings to closely.

The following days hadn’t been any better and by Wednesday evening he had been determined to pick up Zhan Yao from the airport and apologise immediately, maybe cook his favourite food or take him to see a movie, anything to make things right again.

And then, nothing was right anymore.

On Thursday morning, the hotel Zhan Yao had stayed in called to let him know there had been a mix-up in the reservation and his credit card would be charged twice, but it had been handled and he would get a refund. He hadn’t really been listening to the explanations and apologies, until the caller mentioned she hadn’t been able to reach Zhan Yao this morning and therefore had called him, which made him pause. Slightly alarmed, he tried to make sense of that information. “You mean you called his room and he didn't answer?” “No,” she said in an apologising tone. “He has checked out yesterday evening and I couldn’t reach his mobile phone. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

Bai Yutong felt his stomach drop. “He was supposed to fly back today. Do you have any idea where he might have gone?”

“Sorry,” the clerk said. “He didn’t say, only left last night.”

“Let me call you back”, he said hastily and hung up. While he dialled Zhan Yao’s number from memory, his mind went through a million possible explanations. Maybe he was still mad and therefore hadn’t called? Maybe he had taken an earlier flight? But why wasn’t he home already, a voice in his mind whispered.

The call went straight to voicemail and Bai Yutong stared disbelievingly at his phone, his heart beating painfully slow in his chest.

After this he didn’t waste any more time. He informed the team that their resident professor had gone AWOL and set everyone to work: He called the hotel again to make sure Zhan Yao’s room would be sealed and treated as a crime scene, then had Zhao Fu find the next possible flight and Jiang Ling trace Zhan Yao’s phone – the former with success, the latter not so much, since it apparently had been turned off all week.

Pinching his nose, Bai Yutong muttered a curse, took a deep breath and addressed his team: “Alright, Wang Shao and Zhao Fu are with me. Jiang Ling, you work best behind your own desk, so you stay, Ma Han and the little one”, he nodded to Bai Chi, “will assist you. Call me immediately if you find anything useful.” The chorus of “Yes, Sir!” did nothing to ease his anxiety, but he smiled at them anyway and nodded. “Let’s go. Let’s find him.”

The flight didn’t take long, and when Wang Shao hailed a taxi, Bai Yutong’s mind was already busy making lists and sorting through facts. They arrived at the hotel shortly after noon and immediately went to work, first explaining his case to the – very helpful – manager, who promptly offered a suite to use as a headquarter as long as they would need it.

Searching Zhan Yao’s room wasn’t really enlightening. He hadn’t left anything when he checked out – Bai Yutong noticed he hadn’t even taken the small shampoo samples and his heart clenched in fond exasperation. His cat was honest to a fault, really. Sitting on the bed in the quiet, empty room, he ran a hand through his hair.

Where are you, Cat?

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

Cold.

He felt cold.

It was a cold that didn’t feel normal, not like being outside on a chilly day or after taking a cold shower. It was odd, somehow, vibrating, like a living being, moving inside him.

He felt it in his soul, his heart, his bones.

How curious, he thought.

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

Sighing, Bai Yutong took out his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found what he was looking for. Bai Qintang answered after the first ring. “Any news?” He sighed. “No, it’s… He’s…” He trailed off and sighed again, pinching his nose. “This is a nightmare, jie.”

“You’re going to find him, Yutong. I have no doubts about your abilities.”

“Jie, it’s my fault. We haven't spoken in a week. If I hadn't--”

“Oh, shut it!” Bai Qintang blurted. “It’s not your fault and you know it. Stop pitying yourself and start being useful. He’s counting on you, so you need to get your shit together.” Bai Yutong winced at the tone, but knew she was right. He swallowed hard. “Thanks, sis, I’ll try.” He could hear her smile through the phone. “That’s my baby brother!” He rolled his eyes and hung up. Feeling slightly more optimistic, he stood up to gather his team, leading them to the reception desk.

The clerk, the one who had called Bai Yutong and was now very keen to help, remembered Zhan Yao leaving shortly after 8 p.m. the day before. He had given her a rather good tip and asked about a store where he could buy some provisions, which she had told him.

Bai Yutong decided to pay that store a visit. After flashing his badge into the manager’s face – and hoping she wouldn’t look closely enough to see he was from another city – she produced a security tape from the night before, leaving him and Zhao Fu in the cramped store room to watch it. Hunched over the tiny screen, he saw Zhan Yao walk into the store, dressed as impeccably as always, carrying the small black suitcase that had been his birthday gift last year. He vanished from the screen for a few minutes, only to reappear at one of the self-checkout registers, piling his items haphazardly on the surface. Bai Yutong couldn’t make out all of the things he bought, but he recognised a few water bottles, cans of soft drink, lots of chocolate bars and something that looked like a CD case. He frowned. What on earth had his cat been up to?

After Zhan Yao had left the frame with his suitcase and a shopping bag, Bai Yutong ended the recording and stood up. That had been only moderately helpful. Nodding to the manager, he and Zhao Fu left the store and returned to the hotel room to meet with Wang Shao.

Two hours and a lot of empty take-out boxes later, he sat at the low coffee table in his room, socked feet on the table, a coffee mug beside him. The chairs next to him were occupied by his remaining team members, whose faces showed the same feelings that Bai Yutong was sure were on his own as well: frustration, anxiety, exhaustion.

Checking the nearest airport had proved utterly unhelpful. Zhan Yao hadn’t booked or taken a flight there and he didn’t show up on any of the video tapes. It was still possible he had taken a flight from another airport a city over, but Bai Yutong didn’t find that plausible. Zhan Yao was a rational and patient person, he would simply wait for a flight if it was delayed. So, he hadn’t taken a plane. What he had done, however, they could only speculate.

The only thing they were sure about was the shopping he had done before vanishing. And it didn’t make sense either. Why would his cat buy so much food? Shaking his head, he took a sip of coffee. Food. Music. He wouldn't have use for a CD, Bai Yutong pondered, because for all his old-fashioned antics, he didn't actually own a portable CD player. So, he had bought food he couldn't eat, and music he couldn't listen to, unless…

Unless.

“I got it!”

Wang Shao almost dropped his coffee mug and Zhao Fu startled out of his seat at this outburst, both looking expectantly at him. “Got what?”, Zhao Fu asked.

“What the cat did. Ah, I could kick myself for not getting it sooner! It's so obvious!” The other men looked at each other and then back to their boss. “And…?”, Wang Shao prompted. “The food! The CD! It is so obvious now! He wouldn’t buy so much food for a flight when he couldn’t keep it anyway.” He looked at them, feeling almost giddy with hope.

“He rented a car.”

#sci谜案集 #sci mystery #sci #bai yutong #zhan yao #yaoyutong #case fic #angst with a happy ending #my writing #tie your heart to mine

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sicjimin · 3 years

Text

A.N : *hands you Namjin* this still from the prompt: 6.) “Hey, I hate to cut this conversation short, but I’m gonna go throw up, be right back–” but not as request. Just from my messed up brain :D i hope you like this one !! and i'm sorry i have been posting a lot. I will tone it down after this since i already finished all the request:) l

TW : emeto, graphic description of vomiting

Seokjin groans, diving his head deeper into the pillow when he could feel a mild thumping sensation knocking his skull, not the mention the sore feeling in his throat and his inability to smell anything—his nose runny, making it difficult for him to breathe normally. He knows it was a bad idea for him to pushing through the rain when he's aware his schedule has been packed this past week, and unfortunately, his body decided to give up this fast.

Seokjin rolls his body and stretches his arms to reach his phone, the blaring of brightness making him squint. 8 AM. He still has 3 hours before his schedule starts, even though he doubts he will make it there. He pushes his slightly feverish and aching body to the bathroom, freshens himself so he looks at least.. decent. He walks slowly to the kitchen, gulping down cool water that calming his scratchy throat, and start making toast—light enough for his upset stomach to digest.

He was waiting for the toaster to pop when his phone buzzing.

"Bighit Kim Namjoon ❤ calling... "

A small smile starts forming on his lips before picked the call up, placing his phone in a proper place so he could eat while watching his boyfriend. This has been their routine since Namjoon goes to some works in Japan with Yoongi and Hoseok a few days ago.

"Hyung!!", Namjoon's cheery voices echoing through the empty kitchen, followed by the younger face that's too energetic and happy in Seokjin's eyes in the morning. " Hi babe, why are you so happy?", Seokjin asks, eyes occasionally moving to place jam on his toast. Seokjin lowkey hopes that the younger won't notice his deeper and congested voice.

"I'm gonna go sight-seeing here hyung. That's why i am so energetic. Even though Yoongi hyung still sleeping and look", Namjoon turning his phone, now Seokjin's screen showed Hoseok laying on top of Yoongi and Yoongi, with all his might, try to push the younger from him. Some of the grunts could be heard. Seokjin laughs at the sight. When his laugh tapered down, he clears his throat awkwardly when the screen shows back Namjoon, but the younger watching him intensely, " Hyung, you sound different and you look tired, are you okay?"

Seokjin sigh, suddenly aware of the disgusting feeling of sickness in his body, "No. I think I caught a cold .. or bug. I don't know. I woke up feeling like shit today", he turns his gaze to the plate below him, a wave of sadness suddenly hitting him. How he wishes Namjoon was here, being sick alone isn't a great feeling, " I wish you were here, Joon-ah", he adds softly. His voice is small, Namjoon almost didn't catch it if he wasn't paying full attention. "Hyung.. I'm sorry, I wish I'm with you too there. I will try to get home as soon as possible, okay?", didn't want to make the situation more gloomy, he changes the topic, "Have you eat breakfast hyung?"

"I was about to", Seokjin lifts his plate, " Oohh toast? Usually you eat a full course hyung", Namjoon giggling.

"Yah! i told you i'm not feeling well", Seokjin grunts, " How about you? Have you eaten?"

Namjoon nods, "Now eat hyung, i will accompany you. It seems like", he turned his gaze to the bed across him, " Yoongi-hyung and Hobi will take .. some times more"

So, they did their breakfast date. Namjoon going on about his day, how the staff messed up some of the works that triggering the outburst of PD-nim, how he found a cute coffee shop and promise to take Seokjin there. Seokjin listening attentively while slowly chewing his toast, sometimes giving his response.

Namjoon was talking about his night-stroll yesterday when Seokjin lost his focus. Namjoon's words lost behind the overwhelming feeling in his stomach, it's sloshing around. He ducked his head down, trying to hide the pained expression while rubbing his stomach. He's too focused to calm down his stomach until he didn't realizes Namjoon falls silent there, "Hyung?", he calls out. Seokjin perked up, " Uh? Yes? I'm sorry Joon-ah, what were you saying?"

"Are you okay hyung?"

Seokjin buried his head in his arms, shaking his head before mumbled weakly, "No .. i feel nauseous, maybe because of this toast"

"Try to drink water, hyung"

Seokjin does as he told. But the water sits heavily in his stomach, he could feel it turning around in his stomach with his toast. Seokjin groans, "Joon-ah .. i feel so sick"

Seokjin hasn't heard Namjoon's response yet when his body convulses with a wet gag. His eyes widened as his hand quickly clamped his mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut as his breathing becomes quick-paced. He swallows thickly, pushing another gag down. He could hear Namjoon calling his name in panic on the other side, "Hyung!!''

Seokjin opened his eyes slowly when the wave passed, "Joon-ah, I think I'm gonna be sick—", he gulped down a splash of liquid that creeping on the back of his throat, "—soon. You can end the call and I—", another wave, "—will call you back later". Seokjin pressed his fist to his lips when he managed to finish the sentence. Nausea now becomes more prominent, ready to escape his mouth like a yawn. Namjoon agreed hesitantly before the younger end the call with, "Call me back soon, I can't wait anxiously here knowing you're sick. If you're not, I'm flying back there first time tomorrow"

Seokjin tosses his phone and pushes himself to the sink, a loud gag immediately rocking his body but brings nothing. His mouth parted slightly, letting a copious amount of saliva falls to the sink as he waits for the inevitable wave of nausea to come. He spits before another gag escaped his throat, followed by a mouthful of dark brown vomit that he recognized as his chocolate toast he just ate spurts out of his mouth. He coughs as some of it stuck in his throat. He retches again, making his body swaying forward further, dragging more of watery vomit out of his body, and splatters to the sink. He barely catches a breath as his stomach keeps clenching and sending his stomach content rushing from his mouth. His sink already filled with murky brown vomit everywhere. He shakily turn on the tap to slowly drain his sick.

Seokjin pants after he let the last round of vomit out of his body. His congested nose didn't help in the slightest, only adding to the pounding sensation in his head. He rinsed his mouth and take few sips of water again. It still sits heavily in his stomach.

At least, if he gonna be sick again, he will have something to throw up, he thought.

He drags his exhausted body, his phone, and trashcan to the couch. Seokjin curled his body there as he presses the recent call history. Exhaustion almost take him to sleep when the call connected, followed by Namjoon's worried voices, 'Hyung! How are you feeling? are you feeling better? have you take your medicine? i was worried because—'

"Joon-ah, slow it down, my head hurts", Seokjin croaked out weakly.

" Ah sorry hyung"

"To answer all of that, yes i just throw up and honestly i feel worse. No i haven't take medicine, i think i will later when my stomach already feels better or i will just throw it back .. 'm exhausted Joon", Seokjin sigh. Tears start welling in his eyes because of how terrible he felt right now. " I know baby, please wait okay. You will feel better soon"

"I miss you", Seokjin blurted out.

"I miss you too hyung, now go to rest, okay? Then take your medicine and eat something when you wake up. I need to go somewhere", Namjoon says. Seokjin gulped down a little bit of disappointment he felt in his heart and nods before he end the call. He's better sleeping now, maybe he will feel better after some naps.

—

Seokjin awakes with a shiver and pounding in his head. He groans before he blindly grabs his phone, 8 PM. He squeezed his eyes shut and bite his lips, everything in his body just become worse. He turns his body, try to hypnotized himself to sleep again, but the moves apparently too much for his upset stomach, as he immediately leaned his body to the edge of the couch when his stomach clenched, bringing a stream of clear liquid rush from his mouth. He's grateful he already prepared a trashcan down there. His stomach squeezes again, sending another rush of liquid. Seokjin pants and readying himself for another round.

He almost yelp in surprise when he feels someone massaging his nape, "Jimin-ah?", he croaked out before his breath hitched again as another liquid pouring out from his body, " That's it hyung, let it out"

Seokjin choked out, "Joon-ah?", he tried to turn his face to his boyfriend but his body has another decision as he pukes again. Namjoon smiles fondly at the sight, " Finish your business first hyung, breath, i'm not going anywhere"

Seokjin leaned back when he managed to let go of the half-filled trashcan, eyes half-opened as he's not fully awake and exhausted. "Joon-ah?", he calls out weakly, arms blindly searching for the younger hands. Namjoon takes Seokjin's warm hands and engulfs it before placed a kiss on the older burning forehead, " I'm home, baby"

Seokjin opened his eyes fully, even though it still seems like he's half-awake, but he tries. "Why are you .. here?"

"I told you, i will come home the first thing. You're sick, and i can bear sitting and walking around in Japan knowing you're all miserable here"

"I'm not miserable!", Seokjin pouts.

"Have you seen your condition now?"

"Touché", Seokjin leaned his body to Namjoon's and fiddle with the younger sweater, " I'm not dreaming right? Maybe this is because of my fever i'm seeing things"

Namjoon leaned down and place a quick kiss on Seokjin's lips, making Seokjin's eyes widened, 'You gonna be sick!?"

Namjoon giggles, "I'm not, and is that enough proof?", Seokjin hums shyly, " Thank you, Joon-ah"

"What are you thanking me for? this is my duty as your boyfriend", he squeezes the older in his embraces, brushing the blonde hair back, " Now, let's eat and take your medicine okay? i have prepared porridge and your favorite tea"

Seokjin groans nuzzled his head deeper and tighten his arms on the younger waist, "No. You cant move either"

Namjoon rolled his eyes, "I forget that you're baby when you're sick"

#bts sickfic #bts emeto #tw emeto #tw vomit #caretaker!namjoon #sick!seokjin

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asokatanos · 3 years

Text

I got the first dose of the covid vaccine yesterday (Jan 5th 2021)!! Sharing 2 days of my experiences so that when access has been expanded and doses are available more widely you’ll have my story regarding safety and side effects.

Some facts: I got it early because I’m a medical student seeing patients (lately a lot of covid pts!). I am otherwise mostly healthy without any serious chronic or autoimmune conditions. The reason healthcare workers are being prioritized is not because we’re going to get more sick, but because if we DO catch it, we might accidentally spread it to patients who might themselves become very ill. Our jobs mean we are exposed to and exposing many many people every day. No WFH here!

Once you register you get a little card with the vaccine company (in the US rn moderna or pfizer only) and today’s date and a date 28 days later which is the date of your next and (hopefully) final dose/appointment.

I got the first dose of the Moderna vaccine after answering some screening questions about history of severe allergic reactions, recent covid (+) test or quarantine, a temperature check, etc. The shot itself was delivered with a small gauge syringe 💉. It actually hurt WAY LESS than the flu shot I got several months ago!! I’m a big baby when it comes to needles (ironic! I know) but this was NOT BAD AT ALL. Genuinely barely felt it. 1/10 pain scale. The 1 is just because I knew the needle was going in

They had me sit for 15 min afterwards to make sure I didn’t pass out or suddenly get an allergic reaction. I was just fine! Left the hospital and got totally lost on my way home thanks to my goddamn gps which for some reason took me ACROSS STATE LINES I am going to kill google-

Two hours later my arm felt mostly normal. No pain! 0/10 pain scale. The area felt like it might be a little warm and maybe ever so slightly numb, but this might just be because I was mentally focusing on it very intently since receiving the shot.

Pain began maybe four hours after the shot. Gradual soreness that went from a 4/10 to maybe a 6/10 by bedtime (11 hours later). It’s not sharp or stinging, it feels like the same dull sore sensation one gets after a flu shot. Maybe slightly worse, like something between a flu and tetanus shot. I will survive it even though my mom accidentally bumped the spot no less than three times

Around 11pm or so I started getting a headache. This might have been secondary to personal stress or maybe the several hours I spent watching tv or the fact that I’ve been prone to bad headaches for several years now. But it’s also a known vaccine side effect. I took two ibuprofens at around 10:45pm because of the arm soreness

Okay so I didn’t sleep much over night. Part of it is stress but also my arm hurt. I’m used to sleeping on my left side buuut the shot was in my left arm :/

And in the morning about 22 hours after I got the vaccine the arm soreness is worse, maybe 7-8/10. I took another two ibuprofen so we’ll see how it goes. No other side effects though just the sore arm.

okay so it’s now about 6pm and fascists are taking over my country’s capitol building so i haven’t been focusing on my arm so much. the good news is that it hurts less now! still hurts to move it in abduction (which is medical for out away from the body like an airplane pose) but it’s way less severe. a steady 4-5/10

Everything is unhinged now so I’m just scheduling this post for Jan 7th and hoping there are no further historical events in the next 24 hours.

Jan 7th update is that it doesn’t hurt anymore!!

#moderna vaccine #covid vaccine #coronavirus #sars-cov-2

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leerongrong · 4 years

Text

College Student!Haechan

part of the NCT DREAM living the Y/N life collection.

lemme introduce you to some new things donghyuck

full name: lee donghyuck

age: 19 [international]

height: 174cm

donghyuck is an adorable prankster who’s known far-and-wide throughout his life

the boy started out as a class clown, making jokes at teachers and other students in kindergarten

it got him into loads of trouble, and he didn’t really have friends because the other kids called him mean and scary when he tries to joke around with them

hyuck didn’t care tho

he loves the attention from both his peers and parents even if it meant getting scolded every night

he didn’t change when he went to elementary school, still going around pulling pranks on other people, so far as to pulling at a girl’s pigtails and being sent into detention

although his persona did change when high school rolled around

he’s no longer donghyuck, the adorkable class clown he’s now donghyuck, a rebel that hates schoolwork, teachers, and gets thrown into detention more often than he should

never does his homework, smack talks at teachers and destroys school property

people started to wonder why he hasn’t been thrown out of school yet

the only reason he’s still passing his grades is because of mark, a senior who talks and acts friendly around hyuck as if he’s just any normal student

at first hyuck thought the guy befriended him because he wanted something from him

maybe his lunch or his money

but hyuck’s blown away when mark tells him that he just wanted them to be friends

mark tells him about seeing him roam around the halls with no one to talk to,, his hands in his pockets and staying out on the outskirts and how he feels a pang in his heart

he knows the feeling of being alone with no one to talk to just because people won’t spend time trying to get to know the person underneath

he felt it himself after he moved to seoul, all the kids rejecting him from their friend circles because he looked and talked differently

and mark felt the need to befriend him

the two start hanging out alot after that

playing online games together, hanging out in arcades together, walking around school together

sometimes hyuck gives mark headaches because the boy doesn’t want to do any of his workload,, even once trying to pay mark to do his homework

and mark’s pleasantly surprised when he finds out that hyuck is nowhere near stupid

the boy could rank number one in his year if he actually put some work in

hyuck tells him it’s because school just isn’t his passion

“i want to be a singer someday. i won’t be stuck doing algebra and i’ll be going on tours and performing instead.”

hyuck’s 20 now and a changed man

he’s gotten himself into a prestigious college for the performing arts, one step closer to making his dream come true

and while he would never admit it, he’s grateful for mark. if it weren’t for him, he’s end up as a dead beat high school dropout

speaking of mark

mark went to a different college for arts, almost a town away from his

and today he’s going to come by from all the nagging hyucks’s been giving him about not meeting each other often

they’re going to meet at a cafe

and hyuck’s waiting for mark who’s 20 minutes late because of traffic

“hyung! if you didn’t want to see me you could have said so.”

“traffic’s a bitch.”

he’s starting to get bored sitting at the corner alone with nothing but his phone to keep him company, mark not even replying to his messages

until something gets his attention

its you

you’re a solo singer that started out as an actress

relatively young and have debuted for a few years now, known for your amazing vocals and catchy songs

and there you are

on the screen of a flat screen tv hanging just above him, singing and dancing in your newly released mv

hyuck’s staring at the screen and he’s listening very carefully to your song

even going onto his phone and searching for your music after the mv finishes and another show starts playing on the tv

he doesn’t even realize mark running in looking like a train wreck

out of breath and very disheveled with a very clear coffee stain on his shirt

and when he does, haechan shoves his phone into mark’s face, the latter squinting at the bright screen

“who’s this?”

“that’s y/n? she’s a solo singer, i told you about her remember?”

“nope.”

hyuck’s a little confused because?? if mark had told him about you there’s no way he would’ve forgotten

boy goes on a streaming spree right after coming home

can’t be reached by anyone for a whole 24/7, burrowing in his room with the air con on full and his phone blasting your mv one after the other

he’s hooked

goes on an impulsive buying spree for your light stick and multiple albums

pretty much spending his life’s money

droning on and on again and again to mark about you

he goes on non stop about how mark should’ve told him about you sooner, said boy rolling his eyes because, “you’re the one who forgot.”

he burst into tears when mark gave him a fan sign ticket as a reward for acing all his classes mark is THAT friend yall

hugging the life out of the older one and covering mark’s face with spit when he kisses him all over we all need a mark in our lives tbh

he still can not believe he’s going to meet you

d-day arrives

hyuck set up 5 alarms last night so he wouldn’t accidentally over sleep and miss meeting you

all his life, he’s never been a fan of working out but here he is, 8 hours before a fan sign doing pull ups and push ups because he wants to look good

he isn’t ashamed to admit that he shaved twice

nor is he ashamed that he’s using a face mask he literally just bought yesterday because they’re supposed to make him look shining, shimmering and splendid

he’s rushing out of his dorm to where the fan sign is held and he literally stops breathing when he sees you in person surrounded by security and scary looking managers

he’s reminding himself to breath because he doesn’t want to pass out in front of you while all his brain is thinking is, ‘how does she even look better in person?’

‘she looks like an angel.’

‘she’s breathtaking.’

hyuck’s convinced he’s in love

and he only watches you and stares at everything you do

he turns red when you turn to him and wave from afar

‘did that just really happen?’

‘did i just get noticed?’

‘am i in heaven?’

when its finally his turn, he turns into stone all of his planned speeches disappearing into thin air

donghyuck.exe.has stopped functioning

he gives you his gift and he knows you see him trembling and you laugh, holding his hand to stop his shaking

‘did i just hear wedding bells ringing?’

‘i’m never going to wash my hands’

he’s having his own internal crisis

you’re there staring at him for a bit, making sure you smile at him and engage in eye contact

while inside you’re a little blown away because you’ve seen your fair shares of handsome men, your own fans being the most handsome in your eyes but you’ve never seen anyone as handsome as donghyuck is and you’re wondering why he hasn’t been snatched by idol companies

both of you smile and talk to each other

and hyuck’s freaking out a little because this is his time is running out and this is the only chance to tell you the words he thought about for 3 days he even forced mark into his mini lyric writing session

“i wanted to thank you for always making me smile.”

and you’re smiling so much wider by now, the sweet words from your fans never failing to take your breath away

“are you kidding me? donghyuck you’re like the sun, so warm and you bright up my day. you’re my full sun.”

the boy practically melted then and there and had to be escorted out by your security team

the next time he meets mark all he can ramble on and on about is your fansign

“mark, she called me her sun..”

“mARK DON’T TOUCH ME I’M THE FREAKING SUN.”

“I’M CHANGING MY NAME TO LEE HAECHAN.”

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