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strawberryya · 1 year

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king of hearts and nerdy love

mingyu x reader

synopsis: How can valentines at the library be romantic? Was what you asked, stupidly enough, not knowing this would become the ultimate challenge for the hopeless romantic that is your boyfriend.

word count: 5.6k

genre/contains: fluff, romance, smut, college au, mentions of food and eating, sex in a public place, unprotected sex, degradation and praise, afab!reader, gn!reader, established relationship, ft. study-buddy vernon

rating: 18+

a/n: happy valentine's y'all!! here's my addition to the svthub pink eros collab for the holiday and thank you <3 zeta <3 @multi-kpop-fanfics for reading it over <3

you can find the masterlist for the pink eros collab here!

.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・.

“Don’t worry about it, I got this,” Mingyu cockily said with a half smirk and a nod that screamed ‘overconfidence’ from miles away, and all you could do was nod with a worried expression. Valentine’s might not be the biggest holiday of the year, but it had always been a cute little day to spend together, just the two of you. However, the nowhere-near-finished essay that was due by the week’s end would wait for no one. This, of course, meant that all the days leading up to the deadline would have to be spent in the library. Sadly this also included Valentine’s.

Your pout as you had told him had disappeared and in its place was an almost frightened look on your face as you wondered what the hell Mingyu was going to do after his casual way of telling you to just relax and let him handle the supposedly most romantic day of the year.

“Yeah? You don’t mind? Is doing something when I get home enough? I know we usually make it a bit bigger than that…” you asked again, hoping he would slip up and give you a hint of what he planned.

“I do like spending the entire day with you, but I also know how much you need to get this essay done. Just be in your spot at the library and be a good student for the day, and I will take it from there,” he answered in a very reassuring manner. You weren’t sure you felt that reassured of anything though.

Was he coming to the library? That wouldn’t exactly be much fun for him since all you would do was read, write, and read, and write some more. Nevertheless, you agreed, and you had done as planned. You had grabbed some breakfast on your way to the library and were already sitting comfortably with all your books and a fully charged computer in front of you at the edge of one of the tables in your favorite library on campus.

Your study buddy Vernon was as usual in the seat across the table, headphones on and his head bobbing in rhythm to whatever he was playing on presumably rather loud noise into his ears, and with an assignment of his own that needed to be finished. By now, greeting each other was a well-rehearsed quick affair with a wave and a donut the person who got to the library last was obligated to bring.

It was time to get this damn essay done, you told yourself as you reopened the documents and began searching the page for where you had last left off and what you were to tackle next.

It wasn't until right around ten when Vernon rose to scurry off to the bathroom that your mind came back into focus. The ding of a message echoed loudly into your earbuds, pulling you back from your fervent writing.

[10.07] Mingyu puppy Break time! Hope ur in the mood for something sweet :p

He was surprisingly punctual for once, you thought briefly before you looked around to the exit of the hall you were sitting in only to catch the exact moment your boyfriend came into the large room, half running and, once he saw your face, also shouting “Hey!”, only to receive at least a dozen side eyes and a couple of annoyed glances and groans from stressed out students also sitting in the library on valentines day. Of course, if it wasn’t your puppy-like boyfriend who was running up to you in the calm of the library on this day in particular, you would probably be incredibly annoyed as well.

However, that wasn’t the case, and your face cracked up as you saw his face plead for forgiveness while he slowed his step for a moment before he set out to get to you once again.

“Hey,” he wheezed once he got to your area, “Hey,” you wheezed back, giggling a bit as you looked up at him where he was standing, a huge grin on his face, paired with hair that stood everywhere.

“Happy valentines,” he said in a low voice as he bent down to your level, smooching your cheek as you grinned back at him with your whole face. “I brought you snacks,” he boasted and handed over a box covered in tiny pink hearts.

You couldn't help but gasp when you lifted the lid only to reveal a bunch of fruit, cut in perfect bite-sized hearts, and the whole thing completed with tiny pickets stuck into a couple of the strawberries and mango pieces, spelling out “Be my valentine?”

“I’d love to,” you whispered, your voice almost failing you because of this little gesture of his. “Did you cut these out yourself?” you suddenly asked as you swung your head back up to look at Mingyu.

“Sure did. Do you like them?”

“I love them, thank you, baby,” you said before swallowing a berry you had just put in your mouth. You pulled a little at his jacket, making him bend down his proud face to your level so you could give him a smooch back; your lips sweet from the strawberry you had just eaten.

When you pulled back and Mingyu rose again you saw him wave to someone behind you, and a “Hey bro,” coming from behind you.

“Oh, you got more food?” Vernon added as he came back to his seat, eyeing the container filled with sweet fruit hearts.

“I made them,” Mingyu quickly explained with a smug tone, “want some?”

“What? But…” you exclaimed, shocked that he would give away some to a random friend of yours.

“Come on, he can have a bite, you get to have all of me,” he teased, “Let Vernon have some fruit won't you.”

He was right, sadly, and you remembered all the times Vernon had shared whatever he was eating with you and you decided fighting everyone would take too much of your energy. Energy, that you would need if you were to continue writing, you reminded yourself.

When you got your little gift back a picket with the letter ‘y’ was gone from the container along with a piece of pineapple. You tried to hide the tiny pout on your face as you watched the ‘my’ that had turned into an ‘m’.

“These are great, thanks,” Vernon declared, halfway through eating his piece, making you reluctantly say your welcome and Mingyu become, if possible, even prouder.

“Well, I gotta head back to my dorm, I’ll see you at lunch okay?” you heard Mingyu say from beside you, making you look up at him and nod, slightly surprised this wasn’t the end of him coming to visit you, but even more excited that you would be getting to see him at your next break time. Maybe you would be fine sharing this gift with Vernon after all…

With a peck goodbye and a “Good luck!” he was off, seemingly already late for whatever was next on his itinerary making you chuckle to yourself before you put your music back on. Let’s get back to it, you said to yourself as you forced your mind back into the zone, your hand mindlessly picking up yet another of the pretty fruits in the container next to you.

.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・.

When lunchtime came around you had finished more of your assignment than you thought you would have, as well as all the fruit, only a couple escaping your own lips and landing in Vernon’s tummy instead. You weren’t yet hungry, but lunchtime was approaching quickly and every so often you couldn’t help but glance over at the clock atop your screen and wonder what time Mingyu meant when he said lunch.

It was closing in on one O'clock now though, and you were starting to lose focus from having sat there for a couple of hours when you suddenly felt a tiny gust of wind flutter past you at the same time as a blurry piece of something pink flew by in your peripheral.

A paper plane, you discovered, laying on the floor next to you.

You looked around but saw no one that seemed to acknowledge the pink plane that had landed by your place, so you picked it up, curious as to who had sent it as well as what it might mean.

‘Open me’ was written in squiggly letters on the top of the wings, and so you did, revealing even more of the same letters written inside of it.

“Walk up the stairs and just past the greek mythology section (nordic mythology is too far, so turn around if you get there). There you will find a really, and I mean incredibly, handsome guy(objective opinion) and perhaps something yummy too… //Eros, God of love and everything pink <3”

You chuckled as you read it and looked at the dozens of little wonky hearts and arrows surrounding the message. This was very clearly sent from the one and only Kim Mingyu, you thought, trying to keep the grin that was creeping onto your face from becoming visible, but it was no use. You were smiling like a fool, and your tummy felt like it was filled with a hundred butterflies and so you didn’t even wait for a proper answer from Vernon when you asked if he could watch your stuff for a bit as you began sprinting towards the stairs, missing all the stares you got from the sudden bustle from you getting up.

Of course, Vernon already had a burrito bowl that he had gotten a while ago while you watched his stuff and just nodded as you scurried off to whatever you had to do and he moved on.

You powerwalked past the many shelves filled from floor to ceiling with books on every imaginable subject until you got to the far end of the third floor of the library where the books on religion and mythology were all collected together. There, just as the “gods” had promised you, was an incredibly handsome guy waiting for you, leaning against one of the shelves with a smug little grin on his face that told you that he definitely had something in store for you.

With a tiny shriek, you flung yourself into his arms, happy for the break and that his strong statue was able to catch you without stumbling over too much as you wrapped your arms tightly around him, his laugh vibrating through your body as he chuckled at your excitement.

“Come on, I’ve got something to show you,” he said with a flick of his head. You followed him back between the aisles until you reached the very corner of the floor.

When you saw the surprise you couldn’t help but gasp and put your hand up to your mouth so as to not scream in joy and excitement over the perfect little romantic picnic that was splayed out on a pink blanket on the library floor.

Fruit cut just like before, in tiny little hearts in a similar container as before, pasta with your favorite sauce, bread, grapes, and even some tiny mini cupcakes perfected with pink frosting and heart sprinkles. You were stunned into silence as you watched the setup. Mingyu chuckled beside you before he bent down to pick up a bouquet of at least a dozen roses from the blanket. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears as you tried to hold back the happy tears that wanted to escape your eyes. It was all so, perfect.

“How did you set all this up? When did you have time to-”

When you looked at Mingyu he was all sunshine and smiles as he watched your reaction. “That’s for me to know and for you to not think about, because right now all you need to do is accept these flowers and have valentines lunch with me.”

His tone was that of an order but also so very sweet you couldn’t help but smile back at him with your entire face before nodding and accepting the flowers. “That sounds wonderful Gyu…”

The entire lunch you ate the freaking amazing food your boyfriend had made, laughed at his bad little jokes and flirty comments whenever you ate a strawberry, and not a single time did you think about the work you still had to finish.

“If you’re gonna eat the strawberries like that I’m gonna have to retaliate,” Mingyu threatened when you once again ate half of a strawberry while wrapping your lips around the red fruit.

You chuckled at his tone, “Is that a threat or a promise, huh?” you teased back at him.

He gasped, dramatically looking at you while picking up the grapes, still holding onto its vine, only to smirk before bringing the green bulbs to his mouth in a smooth motion. Holding the vine over his head while he let his tongue find hold of one of the grapes before he wrapped his lips around it and took it into his mouth he looked a lot more like Dionysus than Eros you thought for a split second before his eyes fluttered open and your gaze met his.

“You’re an idiot,” you chuckled, shaking your head at his antics.

“And you love me,” he added.

You sighed. “And I love you…” you corrected yourself, earning a pleased expression from the man laying on his side in front of you.

.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・.

When you were finally seated at your spot again, over an hour had passed since you left for your lunch break. It was, once again, time to get your shit done so you could leave the library which felt less fun to be at with every hour you forced yourself to stay.

Mingyu coming over like this had brightened up your day a whole lot though, you realized. Your heart swelled from thinking about how much effort he had put in to make your day feel special even though you both had other things that craved your attention.

You would have to do something to give him the same attention back later today. How, you did not yet know. But you were fairly sure you would be able to come up with at least one thing to make sure he felt as loved as he had made you feel all throughout the day.

As you wrote, your mind began to wander further and further away from your reality.

The way Mingyus’s lips had wrapped around those grapes earlier had actually gotten to you… Yes, you had laughed it off - but that was then. Now, your mind was replaying it. His pink lips were plush and smooth against the fruit. Not to mention how his large, warm hands had held onto your waist as he kissed you goodbye along with that damn smirk of his.

You bit on the inside of your lip mindlessly as you stared at your screen, zoned out and mentally everywhere but in the middle of a room filled with other students and old books. In your mind, those big hands that had held your back in a sturdy grip before were already on your body again, holding you up as he filled you up like only he could.

Too caught up in your own imagination, your legs squeezed themselves together underneath the table. The way his fingertips would dig into your flesh, hard enough to leave marks but the pain only excruciating enough to make it turn into pleasure instead, was so incredibly vivid your entire body was reacting to your thoughts.

You felt yourself become more aroused by the minute. Your heat craving for the touch of warm fingers, a filthy mouth, or even better; your boyfriend filling you up while he kissed up and down your neck and chest.

You didn’t even realize that almost forty minutes had passed without you writing more than a paragraph while your mind wandered off to feeling Mingyus’s touch all over your body. Shaking your head to somehow bring yourself back to your work you realized that perhaps you might kill two birds with one stone later tonight. You know exactly how he likes to be treated, and you definitely wouldn’t mind giving him a bit extra off all the things he loves when you do in bed. Maybe it wouldn’t be as sweet as all the things he had done today, but my goodness, you felt a need to give him everything and anything he wanted when you got him alone tonight.

It was decided, you would give Mingyu the best pussy of his life tonight, and all you needed to do was stop thinking about him filling you up and get to your milestone for the day.

However, the thoughts were relentless. Never giving you more than ten minutes at a time to think about your essay before the thought of his tongue on your skin popped into your mind, making you dizzy with need. After over an hour of this battle with your own mind, you were about to give in to your lust and leave your work for tomorrow-you to handle when a ping caught your attention.

[16.42] Mingyu puppy Break time again, u haven’t fallen asleep yet have u?

You had not. Sleepiness was honestly one of the least worries you had right now. Additionally, Mingyus’s deep voice whispering “Hey my little genius,” next to your ear did absolutely everything but help your situation. He had managed to make your entire body shiver with the way his hot breath hit your already sensitive skin and had your mind sprinting away to all the thoughts you had been pushing away for the past hours with that simple phrase.

You needed him. Now.

“Mingyu-” you said, in a voice that almost came out as a whimper, shocking you to the point where you interrupted yourself out of embarrassment. Letting Mingyu instead put the little box of something down beside your computer on the table.

“I got sweets for my sweetheart,” he declared, half embarrassed and half hoping you would love his cheesy presentation of the snack he had brought. You did, of course, you liked both the snack and the way he had presented it, even though the cheesiness level of it was off the charts.

It didn't even matter though, because you could appreciate his adorable dorkiness some other time. Now you wanted him, and you knew he was up for helping you out whenever, wherever from past experiences.

“I- I love them, thank you so much…”

“Yeah? Are you working hard?” Mingyu said, peeking down at your computer, seeing the half-finished sentence you had left while you were last fighting your mind’s incessant chatter about Mingyu’s cock.

“I am… but, uhm, I kinda need to go get a book.”

You needed to get him away from people, you needed to get him alone so you could have him all to yourself.

“A book? What kind of book are we looking for?” he asked, curiously and innocently while looking at the massive pile of books you already had available right next to you.

“Just, a book, in the basement! Yeah, we need to go get it. In the basement. That’s where the book I need is. Will you go with me?”

Your words came out stifled and incredibly awkward. Mingyu had an understandably confused look on his face. “Yeah, sure I’ll go with you… are you o-”

“Let’s go,” you interrupted him as you grabbed his hand in yours and began making your way towards the stairs that would lead you to the lower sections of the building and eventually to the basement where the rarely used books and archives of all things rarely looked at things were. You hadn’t even checked with Vernon if it was ok for you to just up and leave like this while he was stuck with your stuff, but you presumed that he wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon anyways. Since you were currently running on horniness, you didn’t think much more about anything else other than finding a secluded area somewhere.

“Why are we in such a hurry?? Are you ok for real?” Mingyu huffed out as you opened the door to one of the rooms where you had not once heard a single person have a reason to visit.

“I’m fine, I’m just- a bit horny…” the last part was barely audible, but suddenly it seemed as though things clicked for Mingyu.

“Oh! Yeah okay then!” he exclaimed, and as you turned in onto one of the abandoned aisles in the far-off corner of the room you had ended up in it was Mingyu who pushed you up against the shelf stacked with hundreds of old books.

You couldn’t help but smile at the way he had you wrapped up inside his embrace with dark eyes looking at your lips as if he had an insatiable need to feel them the second you gave the signal.

“Yeah? You wanna try fucking me in here?”

“I do, I absolutely do.”

Your hands landed in his hair, grabbing a fistful of his hair as you kissed him messily. You pressed yourself into his large body, feeling the way he had already started getting excited on the hardness meeting your lower stomach.

“I can tell,” you giggled, mischievousness seeping through your horniness even now.

he barely even reacted to your teasing, planting yet another dizzying kiss on your plush lips. It wasn’t long until your hands had traced their way from his hair down teh ridges of his abdomen and you somehow found yourself with your hand wrapped around his hardening dick. Mingyu groaned as you began pumping him while he sucked tiny little marks into your chest, just below the collar so you would be able to hide it later.

“You know, you made me really happy today,” you breathlessly whispered as his mouth reattached itself to your skin. The humming sound he made in response elicited a moan from you before you continued. “I really didn’t think today could feel that special since I had to be stuck in here all day, and I know you had a busy day as well…”

You were interrupted by your own moans as he traced his hand against your heat.

“Liked it?”

“Love it.”

He only chuckled at how your mind had been so thrown off its train of thought just by a small grace that he couldn’t help but kiss you properly as his hand unzipped your pants so his hand could slip easily into your underwear and give you more

“Go on… tell me what you want, tell me what you liked, tell me what you think sweetheart.”

Mindlessly you let yourself say whatever popped into your mind. “I want your fingers, I liked how you made me feel the entire day, fuck-”

At that, his fingers slipped inside your wet folds. When his fingers slipped right past your entrance, the stretch was delicious. You marveled at the fact that he knows your insides so well that he managed to immediately hit the perfect spot as he curled his fingers and used his thumb to rub tiny circles on your sensitive clit.

“And I think,” you were gasping, trying to keep your focus on everything at once, your hands rubbing up and down his hard erection, his hands slipping in and out of you with such ease you could hear your own arousal, and his mouth and humming groans in the crook of your neck. “I think, I am absolutely in love with you.”

Mingyu pulled back with a knowing smile. It was endearing and genuine, yet so very cocky, but his thick fingers made it impossible to make any sort of retort in response to his expression. “I love you too, so, so much…” he whispered as he kissed you, swallowing those whines of pleasure you couldn’t help but let slip out.

“I want you,” you whimpered as his thumb pressed against your clit yet again.

“You have me…”

“Want your cock, now,” you begged.

This was more than he could take, more than any man should have to take ever honestly. Your breathy whines and the way your heat was already squelching around him as you begged for his cock inside you, it was all too much for him to be able to keep his composure.

Swiftly he pulled down the fabric covering his erection, pulling himself out before he pushed your own pants and underwear out of the way for him to be able to line himself up with your aching hole.

“Please fuck me,” you panted as you felt the head of his cock teasing your entrance.

“Of course, baby,” Mingyu smiled softly, only barely covering the heat burning in his eyes as he saw your eyes rolling back along with his thick cock pushing its way into your tight pussy. It felt too good, you were already clamping your hand over your mouth as he began thrusting so as to not scream in pleasure. Only the faintest thought of hoping you were truly alone in the large room seeped through the pleasure that was taking over your brain completely.

“Such a pretty little thing, taking me so well,” he couldn’t help but gasp out as your walls closed in tightly around him.

His hands were grappling at your thighs, helping you stay upright as well as helping your legs stay open as they instinctively closed at the intense feeling of him stretching you out. You were moaning with every hard snap of his hips into you, the muffled moans now blending with the low groans Mingyu was making right into your ear and the wet sounds of his cock pumping in and out of you.

The thoughts that had filled your head and previously distracted you were being fucked out of your mind, leaving only the pornographic sounds of your pussy leaking its juices all over your boyfriend in the quiet library aisles.

“You’re absolutely drenched, sweetheart… You must’ve been thinking about this before I even got here, didn’t you? Such a dirty little one you are today,” he snickered breathlessly as he kissed up your jaw and down your neck. His tongue skimming across your sensitive skin and the constant knowing you can’t even make all the sounds Mingyu was currently working hard to elicit from your plush lips were driving you completely mad with lust.

You needed to scream, but you couldn’t, so instead, you whimpered “close, so close,” as you clenched around him. The action made juices spill out of you and down your legs as Mingyu kept thrusting to get you where you needed, spreading your slick all over your legs and making the sounds of your dirty escapades echo through the entire room.

“God, I love you,” Mingyu whispered into your ear as he sucked on that sensitive spot right below your ear. “You look so gorgeous all fucked out by my cock, loving being stretched out don’t you?”

His words had you clenching around him, walls fluttering like crazy at the low rumble that was his voice soo close to your ear.

Your back was hitting the shelves behind you, making the books rattle in their places and if you hadn’t been way too caught up in chasing your high you might have worried about the entire place falling down like bricks of dominoes. That wasn’t something you could make yourself think about though, your high making your nerves feel electric as Mingyus’s strokes had the smooth skin of his groin rubbing against your clit and sending your mind to cloud nine instead.

To keep yourself from howling as the wave of pleasure you had been chasing began crashing down on you, you grabbed Mingyus’s face, kissing him with such fervor there was no way he could deny that you were coming undone on his cock.

When you started calming down from your high you let go of his lips, enough for him to gasp out what was on his own mind as yours was too fuzzy to make any coherent sentences at all.

“So good for me, keeping quiet just like you need to, aren’t you being such a good little slut for me sweetheart?”

You nodded, pleasure still flowing freely through your body as he kept pumping himself in and out of your heat, now slicker than ever with your cum leaking out and running down his heavy balls. “Gyu baby, please Gyu- I want your cum in me,” you whined as you began kissing down his neck in return for his previous actions. You hear him swear in the distance, the way his strokes sped up made the sound seem much further away than it was to your borderline overstimulated self.

“I’m gonna-,” Mingyu tried before you could feel his hot cum leaking out inside of you and beginning to drip out of your now cumdrenched pussy as his hips continued to stutter from his own pleasure.

You were still kissing his neck, licking sloppily wherever you saw fit, no longer thinking about the kind of situation you were in until you heard Mingyu’s chuckle as his large hands stroked up and down your sides until he reached the side of your cheek. Your head instinctively followed the warmth of his hand, pulling you away from where you were latched onto his neck and up to face him as he smiled lazily.

“Is this what you needed? Yeah? Tight little pussy filled with my cum for valentines?” he snickered, knowing that you still felt high on the feeling of him filling you up so good. You smiled a dazed smile back at him, nodding and seeming incredibly pleased with yourself and the whole situation. With a hum he pecked you before he slipped out of you, and quickly pulled up your underwear and pants, leaving the cum inside you to leak out and completely soil your already slick-filled underwear.

“Alrighty then,” Mingyu said, his entire expression letting you know he felt a bit mischievous as he fully intended to send you back to your assignment with his cum still inside of you.

“Guy!” you almost shrieked out as you looked at his little half-smirk and glittery eyes, “I can’t just-”

“Oh c’mon now, I thought this was what you wanted. Is it not?” he teased with the cocky raise of his eyebrow. “Dirty little ones will simply have to deal with being soaked like this until they finish their little assignment, won’t they?”

The smile he flashed you with the complementary wink had you pouting to hide the smile that fought to creep onto your face.

“You’re evil, mister Eros,” you said before you pulled him in to place a peck on his lips. Before you knew it though, the peck turned into a lingering kiss, making your body react once again and sending your mind racing towards what you would do when you got home as both revenge and thank you for the wonderful day he had prepared.

As you were leaving the aisles of books and heading for the staircase, Mingyu suddenly stopped for just a second, grabbing the first book he saw before continuing. You gave him an inquisitive look as he handed it to you while you walked up the stairs, before remembering that you had used the book excuse to lure him away from other living beings earlier.

At least the effort had been made you thought, thankful to your boyfriend for at least trying to cover up what you had just done even though the first thing Vernon had remarked on when you got back was on the book he had chosen.

“Geology? You don’t study geology, why did you- never mind…” he said, his eyes scanning the state of the both of you before adding, “You should probably fix your hair Mingyu, and your shirt is all fucked up y/n.”

Your head snapped to your shirt, which previously had been neatly tucked in in your shirt and which was now a messed up half-tuck paired with some sort of half-assed buttoning up. Shit, you thought, before your head snapped up to look at Mingyu’s messy hair, standing in all directions after you had apparently messed that up unbeknownst to you.

Both of you were already half panicking when you heard Vernon muttering something along with “...these dirty bastards,” under his breath as he went back in to eat the burrito he had ordered for himself as a pick-me-up while he continued on with his assignment. At this, neither of you was able to contain your laughs. The sound of you both all but falling to the floor in a fit of giggles made the few people who were still in the mostly empty room scowl at you along with some groans from the incredibly tired students.

“Fuck this, let’s go,” you said, gasping to regain your breath from the laughter. Quickly you packed up all your stuff as Mingyu snickered behind you still. And you went, leaving the chocolate Mingyu had brought you for Vernon, as a sort of apology for wherever trauma you two had given him.

Your plans for the evening could not wait for your assignment to be done you thought as you dragged your boyfriend and your bag out of the library to properly celebrate Valentine’s at home where you could show him just how grateful you were.

.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・..・。.・゜✭・.

Reblogging and commenting is highly appreciated!! Hearing what you thought is what makes writing and being here overall so much fun! Ty and ily 💕

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bluedalahorse · 4 months

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So is now the time to post the opening of my unfinished YR abortion road trip fic?

Maybe. Maybe today is the day! This isn’t on AO3 because I haven’t finished it, but @heliza24 really wants me to finish it and would be glad that I posted even this part to fandom.

There’s more written than just this excerpt, so I could always post more if people are curious.

No title yet, because this is untitled.

Summary: Shortly after season 2, Felice wanders off campus to process a high-profile arrest and other recent shakeups at Hillerska. She doesn’t expect to meet Sara Eriksson, who is in the process of running away.

—

Felice’s Phone

Group chat: MANOR HOUSE GIRLZ (Fredrika, Maddie, Stella)

Maddie: yooooo Felice

Maddie: tell us you missed Swedish class for something epic

Stella: we took notes for you

Stella: mine are better than Fredrika’s

Fredrika: LIES mine are better than Stella’s

Maddie: you’re not in your room

Maddie: girl are you even at school?

Fredrika: just tell us where you are and we won’t snitch

Stella: Felice?

Stella: please check in

Stella: and maybe flirt with one of the local boys so he buys you booze

Fredrika: and then share?

Maddie: don’t listen to them

Maddie: only flirt with someone hot

Stella: yeah he’s got to be at least as hot as Fredrika

Stella: lol j/k ahahaha what

Fredrika: heeeyyyyyyy Feliiiiiice where are youuuuu

Fredrika: we’re a little worried, just let us know

Fredrika: tho at least you didn’t get sick and disappear into the bathroom like SOMEONE we could mention

Stella: but we’re not mentioning her

Stella: bc we don’t mention traitors

—

Felice sits at the edge of a convenience store parking lot in Bjärstad, counting all the scars in her nail polish. It’s supposed to be a fresh coat. Stella brushed the ballet slipper pink onto Felice’s nails on Tuesday, and right now it’s only—Thursday afternoon? Felice is drunk on leftover vodka she stashed in her closet behind her Prada handbag, but not so drunk she’s forgotten that it’s Thursday. A Thursday full of literal dark clouds, at that.

Tuesday was sunny, and it was also the day that police arrived at Hillerska and escorted that guy away. That one, the ex. Wednesday, Felice’s ex-best friend, her real ex in any kind of emotional attachment sense, came back to school for half a day, but couldn’t make it past lunch. Now people are spreading rumors about Sara Eriksson puking in the bathroom. So maybe it’s been a weird enough forty-eight hours that Felice hasn’t noticed herself scarring up her nail polish.

And maybe, now that today is Thursday, Felice needed to skip classes and get drunk and go for a walk off campus, and buy a bag of chips from a nothing convenience store in this nowhere town. There are things getting drunk won’t solve. But it’s not like being sober is going to solve things for Felice right now, either.

Felice’s phone vibrates against her thigh. She pulls it out of the pocket of her sweatpants and notes the texts from Fredrika and Stella and Maddie in her (recently purged) group chat. They’re asking her where she is, and is she coming to dinner. Please check in, fuck. How performatively worried. Felice unlocks her phone and almost fumbles her way through a typo-soaked message before deciding she’ll do this psychically. I am walking back to Hillerska now, she thinks in the general direction of school, slow and deliberate. She leaves the rest up to Maddie’s alleged witch powers and pulls herself to her feet.

Felice’s ankles ache the way they do when she’s walked on her Jimmy Choo heels for too long. She’s not wearing heels, though, only slides. Her legs wobble. Her thoughts swirl in slow, doomed circles, like dirty water circling a drain, as thunder rumbles overhead and a cool breeze rustles nearby trees. The rain is imminent, and Felice contemplates how much worse it will be when she shows back up on campus not only drunk, but drunk and completely soaked through, her carefully styled curls a wreck.

(Stella, Fredrika, and Maddie could get away with a stunt like that. A teacher might ignore their obvious alcohol breath and just tell them to put on dry pajamas and go to bed. But for Felice, they notice everything. Because Felice sticks out to begin with.)

Felice is caught in a vision of the headmistress, hissing the word inebriated on a phone call to parents, when a van pulls into the parking lot. She’s not as up on cars as the Forest Ridge boys, but this van definitely belongs to a Bjärstad local. She braces herself for an awful catcall as the window rolls down halfway, certain she’s about to get leered at by some guy in a permanently affixed football beanie.

Instead, it’s a girl. No football beanie, only football confidence. Felice recognizes the girl from Simon’s instagram—she’s come up a few times. Felice hasn’t been counting, but she’s noticed.

“You’re in choir with Simon,” says the girl. “Felice, right? I’m Rosh. Need a ride back to school?”

“I can walk. I think,” Felice says. And then, so she can own her story, she adds, “I might be a little drunk?”

Felice adjusts her posture, straightening her spine and setting her hand on her hip as she makes eye contact with Rosh. Immediately a sense of embarrassment twinges in her chest at her pose. What the—was she modeling? She’s not making a case for relative sobriety, whatever she’s doing.

Rosh turns to consult with someone next to her, then turns back to Felice.

“Come on,” she says. “Get in the car. Back seat.”

“Um. Thanks.”

The back door of the van slides open. Felice doesn’t have time to question who Rosh has next to her in the passenger seat. She receives an answer soon enough anyway. The back of Sara Eriksson’s head is so familiar—defeated brown waves that haven’t seen a wash day in too long. Sara’s shoulders are hunched over; her neck is bent. She does not turn around.

Two weeks ago, if Felice saw Sara looking like that, she would have pulled Sara close and rubbed her back until they talked through what was wrong.

(Part of her still wants to. But she doesn’t like the idea of Sara mentally comparing her hugs to someone else’s, and she’s allowed to be petty about that.)

“You don’t have to talk to me,” Sara says, tapping away on her phone. She sounds exhausted. “I’m busy anyway.”

“If you hydrate, we won’t ask about the drinking,” says Rosh to Felice. “There’s sports drink behind the passenger seat. Take one.”

Right. Sports drink. Because Rosh does sports, Felice has noticed. It sounds like an order more than an offer. Felice ducks down and liberates one of the bottles from its six-pack. The liquid inside is neon-bright and tastes of soft metal and fake citrus. Rain splatters on the van’s windows—the first sparse and irregular drops, followed by the entire pounding ensemble of water. For the next few minutes, Felice focuses on the horizon, where blurred trees meet the mirror-gray sky, and sips her post-football-run drink. Sara takes care of the directions to her old dorm, uttering an occasional “right” or “left” or “go straight here” to Rosh. Felice can’t tell why she’s doing it. Why she didn’t just insist on leaving Felice behind.

Then, the conversation shifts. Or at least, the conversation that Felice isn’t a part of shifts.

“Rosh?” Sara whispers. “I can’t find anywhere cheap enough for us to stay.”

“Even on the apps?” Rosh replies. “Look, I told you, I have some money—”

“I can’t take your money.”

“It’s money I owe Simon anyway.”

“That’s even worse. He already hates me. You should hate me more.”

Sara breathes in, then out, audibly. She does it a few more times. Felice’s own lungs strain in sympathy.

“We have to find a place for the weekend,” says Sara. “Or we can’t do it.”

“What are you talking about?” Felice finally asks. She presses a hand to her thigh to keep her leg from jiggling. Since she was seven years old and started her first etiquette classes, she’s always been able to sit still. Always.

“We’re going on a weekend trip,” Rosh answers, too brightly. “To Stockholm—”

“—to an island,” Sara says at the same time.

“Stockholm has lots of islands,” Rosh improvises. “Sara just needs to be away for a weekend. That’s all.”

“It doesn’t sound like you’re going on a normal trip,” says Felice, hearing the suspicion in her voice, and how it sounds like her father.

“We told Mamma we were traveling,” says Sara. “My period’s late. I don’t––I don’t think it’s coming. I know it isn’t coming, because—”

“Don’t tell me that.”

“—I did a pregnancy test.”

Felice digs her chipped nails into her knee. She knew how Sara’s sentence was going to end. Not the way she knows people’s names or the answers on a test she studied for, but the way she knows to pull her hand away when she touches a hot stove. Swift and unthinking. She even gasps the same way she does when she’s burned. Not out of surprise but out of pain.

“Fuck, Sara,” says Rosh. “You don’t have to tell her. She could tell the media.”

“Sorry,” says Sara. “It just came out. I’m scared, okay?” At last she turns around and looks toward Felice, her fingers curled around the back of the passenger seat. Her face is red and purple-tinged in all the places that indicate crying and sleepless nights. “Look, you can’t tell anyone. Rosh and I are going to deal with it. We already got the pills. I can’t deal with it at home because of Simon and Mamma. I don’t know what they’d say.”

“We wanted to use my apartment,” Rosh adds. “We thought my mother was going to visit one of my aunties this weekend. But auntie came to visit us instead at the last minute.”

“Please don’t tell anyone at school, Felice.” Sara turns away again. “Or Simon. Don’t tell him either.”

“People are already talking about how you threw up in the bathroom,” says Felice. “And if you’re absent from school again, they’re going to wonder.”

“Please don’t tell,” Sara repeats, voice muffled as she pushes her face into her coat sleeves.

As much as the infusion of electrolytes, courtesy of Rosh, has helped Felice to steady her head, she’s still too drunk for this. Or maybe, again, she isn’t drunk enough. She tries to imagine her math class tomorrow, working trigonometry problems with an empty chair beside her and actually knowing why the chair is empty. She can’t. Felice can’t even imagine faking sick and staying home from class, because then Stella and Fredrika would come visit her with buns and coffee, and then they’d want to gossip.

At first, being able to gossip felt good. But ever since the arrest—since the security from the palace arriving to keep out news cameras—gossip is more like gangrene eating at an already wounded limb. Felice needs amputation, or at least closure. Until then, she’s just going to keep asking herself questions about what part of the catastrophe she made happen. Why didn’t she ask Sara who she had a crush on, like best friends always do? Why hadn’t she been more concerned that Sara was gone all the time and came back late to their room? Why hadn’t she told Sara how bad things got with him last term, to warn her?

Felice doesn’t want to keep asking herself the questions, because this isn’t her fault. Maybe Sara isn’t the only one who needs an emergency abortion. Maybe Felice needs to abort Sara from her life, so she can move on.

But if she’s going to do this, she has to make it her choice.

“My family has a vacation cabin,” Felice says. “We can go there to do what you need to do. But after that, we will never speak to one another ever again. Alright?”

Sara’s shrunk down in her seat so much that Felice can’t see her anymore, but Felice is pretty sure from the rustling of her coat sleeves that she’s nodding.

Five minutes later, Felice is on the phone with her mother, feeding her excuses and exaggerations until she gets the approval to leave school for the weekend. At the same time, Rosh turns the van around and drives away from Hillerska.

#young royals #my fic snippets #sara eriksson #felice ehrencrona #rosh young royals #cw pregnancy #cw abortion

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fullsunrise · 6 months

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Delicate - Chapter 6

Is it too soon to do this yet? Cause I know that it's delicate

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Angst, alcohol consumption, sexual themes

Previous Chapters: Posted on Masterlist

Yuta had been exceptionally annoying the following week after break, constantly trying to get Ji Woo to come over to his place. Ji Woo hoped he would eventually grow bored with her unresponsiveness, but he continued to message and call her like a broken record. He tried to pretend he wasn't desperate, but it was obvious that he'd run out of options and she was his last resort. Ji Woo wasn't stupid. They weren't exclusive and Yuta had a reputation of sleeping around.

Ji Woo reached a breaking point that night when Yuta threatened he would come to her if she didn't answer him. It wasn't a warning, no, because this was Yuta. Whatever he wanted, he got. He would hunt her down until he found her. But Ji Woo didn't have anywhere else to run. Nowhere else where she would feel safe.

“C’mon in,” Haechan greeted, leaning against the doorway frame.

And so there she was, standing outside of Haechan’s apartment in hopes of hiding from Yuta. For some reason, Haechan was the first person she thought of. It helped that Yuta would never expect her to be here.

“Alright, tell me everything,” Haechan said, plopping down on the couch. He patted the empty spot next to him and Ji Woo took it without hesitation.

“That's ridiculous,” she giggled at the absurdity. No way in hell was she going to tell Haechan she was sleeping with Yuta.

“C’mon, I promise to be a good listener,” Haechan said as he propped his head on his palms, intently looking at her.

“You want to know everything?”

“Talk my ear off, baby”

Baby. Ji Woo wondered how long they were going to pretend to be friends for.

“Before I get into this, I think we both need a drink.”

Haechan laughed at her request. "The only booze we have here is cheap beer and liquor. Pick your poison.”

Beer in hand, Ji Woo apprehensively explained her situation with Yuta. Although she carefully omitted some parts that she thought Haechan would be better off not knowing. For instance, she didn't say his name. If every girl on campus knew Yuta’s reputation, it was very likely Haechan knew of him too. Ji Woo wanted to rant, not to be lectured. She, however, did tell him that she wanted to break it off.

“Why?”

Because he’s manipulative and possessive, she thought. “I guess it ran its course, you know?”

“Ah, I see,” he responded.

Deep in thought, Haechan looked as if he were trying to digest the information. If only they were more than just friends, then she could kiss his pouty lips. But she refrained from doing so, because there was no going back if she crossed that line.

Although it only felt like a short amount time, they ended up talking for hours. It was easier to talk to him than she thought it would be, the conversation filled with laughter and understanding. But occasionally Haechan would say something that was definitely a bit too flirty. Ji Woo wouldn't have noticed if it weren't for his smirk.

“Oh shit, it's like 2:00am,” Haechan exclaimed, checking his phone. “You can stay if you want, it's not a big deal.”

The alcohol was definitely hitting her now. How could she say no to his sweet face? Besides, he was right. It was too late and she didn't want to go. Not when there was a very high chance of Yuta waiting for her when she got back. After cleaning up the empty beer cans, Haechan stepped away in his bedroom for a minute only to come out with a pillow and blanket.

“Here you go,” he said, placing the pillow and blanket on the couch. “Bathroom is down the hall and to the left.”

“Thanks,” Ji Woo answered. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he whispered. Ji Woo watched as he closed the bedroom door behind him.

It wasn't even fifteen minutes after turning the lights off that Ji Woo noticed the cold draft coming from the windows. Shivering, she pulled the blanket higher around her neck in hopes to keep any warmth in. Her mind instantly went to Haechan, who was only a short few steps away. Would it be crazy if she slept in his bed? The lines between friends and lovers weaved together in her mind as she made her way to his door. Ji Woo knocked lightly, her impulsiveness wavering.

“Hey,” Haechan whispered as he opened the door. A soft light came from his room. Did he not go to sleep yet?

“Do you have an extra blanket?”

“I think so, are you cold?” Haechan asked, moving back into his room to search for a spare blanket

“A bit, yeah,” she replied.

No longer blocking the doorway, Ji Woo had the perfect opportunity to peer into his room. Her eyes first found his bed that was tucked into the corner by the window. Then, to his gaming computer against the adjacent wall. Although Ji Woo knew little about gaming, even she could admit it was an impressive setup. The soft glowing rainbow of colors danced around on his keyboard, circling from a vibrant red back to a magenta.

“Shit, I don't have one. Sorry,” Haechan apologized, before noticing she was entranced by the lights. “Oh, do you like my setup?”

“It's cool,” she attempted to compliment.

“You think?” he beamed, eyes wide and eyebrows raised waiting for validation.

Taking his words as an invitation, Ji Woo took a few steps towards his desk. Once she passed the threshold of his room, she could feel the instant warmth wrap around her. He stood beside her now, and Ji Woo thought if he came any closer she would certainly kiss him. It would be so easy, but was it too soon? Up until recently, Haechan was just a mere nuisance. Or so that's what Ji Woo wanted him to be. But she couldn't ignore how she felt every time he smiled at her.

“Yeah,” she smiled genuinely.

Maybe it was coming from his computer, but Ji Woo couldn't help but note how a soft red hue lit up across his cheeks.

“Thanks,” he said softly, and Ji Woo let his voice carry throughout her body.

Haechan showed her every inch of his room, from Pokémon plushies lined up on his desk to the Engineering textbooks haphazardly thrown on his windowsill. Ji Woo soaked up every detail. Everything was so him, down to the fresh scent of his cologne.

“Hey, you can sleep in here if it's too cold out there,” Haechan offered, now leaning against his desk.

While he tried to seem confident, the hesitancy in his voice was a dead giveaway that this was uncharted territory. It was for Ji Woo, too. The only times she's slept in another man’s bed was only after sex. And most of the time she would sneak out before sunrise, to ensure she wouldn't have to face the consequences of the next morning.

“If that's okay.”

The idea of sleeping in his bed made her stomach flip. But as the scenarios of them in the same bed flashed through her mind, Ji Woo was brought back down to earth in a second.

“Sure,” he confirmed, and with a soft smile and nod he made his way into the living room.

Of course, what was she thinking? They hadn't crossed that line of sharing the same bed yet, no matter how friendly they were. But she couldn't let him slip through her fingers again.

“Wait, Haechan,” Ji Woo said as she stood in the doorway once more.

“Yeah?” he asked as he paused making his makeshift bed for a moment to look back at her.

Any courage she had left from the alcohol vanished, because suddenly she couldn't think of what to say. Everything sounded ridiculous and borderline desperate in her head.

“Can you come here?”

He followed her request, his body coming dangerously close to her own. They stood there in silence, with the back of her knees touching the edge of his bed. If it weren't for his hand placed ever so lightly against the small of her back, Ji Woo would've lost her balance. Between the heat radiating from their bodies and the overwhelming scent of his cologne, it was almost too much.

“You have me,” he replied, his voice low enough for only the two of them.

She didn't mean to kiss him, but their faces were so close that his nose was practically touching her own. His lips were only a short distance away, no longer out of reach from her burning desire. The kiss was tender, like he was savoring every second. He snaked his hand up to the back of her neck, holding her in the most delicate way. Ji Woo couldn't hold back her sigh even if she wanted to.

Haechan pulled his body away the moment her sighs escaped from her lips. They were still for a moment, and his actions left Ji Woo wondering why they had stopped. Their foreheads were still touching, but Haechan felt worlds away.

"Not like this," he whispered as he left a small kiss on her forehead.

Ji Woo couldn't bring herself to reply. She wanted to plead to him to keep kissing her, to stop thinking too much. But she stayed silent with her eyes closed. She knew if she looked him in the eyes she would cave.

"Were you going to see him tonight?"

The words were stuck on her tongue. Of course she wasn't going to see Yuta tonight, but realistically how much longer would she be able to stay away? If only she could forget about Yuta for one night, let Haechan drown out her thoughts and replace them with cries of his name. Before she could let out a no, Haechan slipped away.

"Goodnight, Ji Woo"

His words haunted her. Words that once reached out to her with open arms were now laced with regret. Suddenly the place she hoped to find solace became filled with apprehension. What was she doing here? It felt pointless to stay, but she couldn't fight against the sudden feeling of drowsiness that washed over her body. As she tucked herself into his empty bed, Ji Woo promised herself that she would leave first thing in the morning, that way she wouldn't have to face Haechan ever again.

#haechan #nct 127 #nct fanfic #haechan fanfic #nct #nct dream #nct dream fanfic #nct 127 fanfic #lee haechan #haechan smut #nct smut

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mercyburned-aa · 10 months

Text

I don’t really post a lot of personal stuff here but - (not negative, more bittersweet I guess?)

I have two job offers on the table for about the same amount of money. One is in a big city in the northeast and one is for a smaller but still big city in the mountains. They’re both good and I like both, benefits and roles are about the same. I’m still working through my list of pros and cons but honestly it’s very close.

I ugly cried the entire drive down to campus yesterday and then ugly cried all the way back up and I feel like ugly crying again. I don’t even know why because this is such good news, but I think I’m overwhelmed by how much the pay is and how it’s an incomprehensible amount more than what I was making literally a year ago.

I guess a part of me is grieving for past Lori who suffered and struggled so fucking much. I never had it easy, I was always having to pull ridiculous solutions to emergencies out of nowhere and just hope against hope that things worked out. I don’t talk a lot about what I’ve been through, not because it’s difficult or painful anymore (it’s not) but because I’d rather focus on my future (and because I don’t want people to think I’m looking for pity. I’m not) but just trust me when I say that I never thought I’d have the luxury of choice.

I’m also grieving because one of my friends I want to tell my good news to died last year, not even two weeks after I started my MA, and I can’t tell him anymore and it just … hurts. I miss you dude. I wish I could message or call you again and hear your voice. I wish I’d been a better friend but thanks for sticking by me anyway.

I don’t know. Sometimes success and opportunity feels so foreign. I’ve been settling for things for so long until last year when I quit my job to pursue this path, and I guess I was expecting to have to settle again. I feel like I’m grieving all the time I spent in survival mode and I don’t … know how to process this idea that I can choose and I don’t need to settle for vague disappointment this time.

I have people offline in my field that I’m close with and I’m seeing them all today, so I’m going to talk to them about it and ask for advice about which to choose. In the mean time, I think I might ugly cry again. It’s a victory and a huge one but it feels so bittersweet and I think I just need to take time to work through this on an emotional and mental level.

#&. ‛ this is the voice that i was given.︐ › ooc.

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the-scribe-and-her-scribbles · 2 years

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iwcb | chapter 12. how to be a convincing beggar

it will come back | chapter 12. how to be a convincing beggar | fae!prussia x reader

it will come back Masterlist and Summary

chapter summary: You think of all that's happened, and prepare for what needs to be done.

word count: 3.6k

content warnings: none

(if you want to be added to the tagging list, please reply to this fic or message me)

(In philosophy, the question of nature vs. nurture is often asked. Are we who we are because of DNA, or is it our environment that forms us into who we are? In your academic opinion, it's probably both.

You come from a long line of intellectuals, starting with your father’s mother. Growing up in the 50s, her access to education was restricted. Despite expectations from everyone around her to get married to her childhood sweetheart and have children right after high school, she instead went to get her masters in folklore. She joined the faculty of a prestigious university to teach literature and folklore analysis and opened the family bookshop in retirement. Your father inherited her love of books, either by nature or nurture.

Your mother was also involved in academia in the 80s and met your dad in that bookshop as she joined the same university his mother worked at as an English professor. The rest, of course, was history.

You do not doubt that the genetics you inherited from both sides of your family had a say in your intelligence, but the way they raised you moulded you into who you are. You remember spending time after school in the shop, doing your homework at the front counter as your dad talked with a customer. You can still smell the powdery musk that filled the aisles of bookshelves.

You remember visiting your mom’s office at the university, and the TAs and professors taking you around the campus, allowing you to sit in on lectures and play in the rows of seats while your mother taught.

You remember the books your grandmother would give you for birthdays when you were little. She gifted you your first copy of the Chronicles of Narnia, Frankenstein, and Dracula, and a plethora of Jane Austens. She still sent you things in the mail while you were away at university. Even when you moved to a different town for university, despite her and your mother’s wish for you to go to the one where they use to work. Every month or so, a book wrapped in brown paper, and decorated with dried flowers, ink stamps, and familiar cursive writing would show up in your mailbox.

You are a scholar because of them. You love to read because they read to you every night of your childhood. They are your home, your safe place. There is nowhere you’d rather be than sitting at the dining table with your parents, or sitting in the floral-patterned living room of your grandma’s home.

That is why you know in your heart, that you have to get back to them again.)

You close the door to the library behind you and scurry down the hallway. Your hair and clothes are dishevelled. Your lips feel swollen and tingly and your face is hot with embarrassment.

God, you are an idiot. A stupid, ridiculous idiot, you mutter to yourself as you all but run down the dimly lit hallway. You blink away the harsh sting of tears and try to cool down.

You reach the room Francis had you set your stuff in earlier. It has a beautifully-carved white bed with four posts and a sheer canopy. There’s a lit fireplace in the corner and blankets piled at the end of the bed. You sigh.

As you lay in bed, listening to the crackle of the fire and staring up at the ceiling, you think of many things.

You think of Gilbert. Your skin still tingles when you do. Unlike the safety you felt with your family, Gilbert makes you feel as if you were in a free fall. He looks at you and smiles, sharp and cunning and you feel a great tightness in your chest, so strong your heart could burst. You couldn’t deny that he had grown on you over the past five days.

He’s done more than grow on you, you can’t help but think. Gilbert has all but taken a dagger and carved a space for himself inside you. You feel like an idiot, but it’s true. His quick wit and confidence, the pure intelligence and cunning had warmed him to you, and his strength, his softness, the way he comforted you and protected you has only made you like him more.

So in the library moments ago, you let him kiss you. Even if it was a terrible idea, even though you knew that something between you could never possibly work, you had threaded your hands into his star-spun hair and kissed him back.

Gilbert kissed you like he was drowning. Like you were his only source of air. He held you between his hands like he never wanted to let you go.

“Please, stay,” he had said, and god, you had almost said yes.

You felt the thrumming, the warm pull that Elizabeta warned you about. When your foreheads were pressed together and your breaths mingled in the air between you, you had felt the chest-crushing want that she had warned you of.

It’s not real, this feeling. It’s not actual affection, it’s the spirit world and its magic. A trick is being played on your heart. You just need to get back. You’ll return to the mortal world, return to your old life and it’ll stop. It couldn’t work with the two of you anyways. Gilbert would be here fighting a war, protecting his court from invaders and leading his people and you would never want to abandon your life to stay in the Unseen world forever. You had a degree to finish, a life you wanted to build, and people who cared about you in the mortal world.

You think of your mother, and her kind face and greying hair. You think of your father and the crows-feet that are appearing along the edges of his eyes. Your parents were getting old, your grandmother, even more so. When you were still in your own world, your grandma didn’t have much time left. She had done so much for you, her love for the family bookshop, for novels and stories, and fables made you the person you were. You don’t think you ever thanked her.

You owe her that. She deserves to be told thank you. Your parents deserve to be told thank you, deserve to hear an explanation as to where you disappeared to, even though you’ll have to lie.

He said, "Hey, darling, hey,”

“Hey, darling, hey"

"I'm the hardest goodbye

that you'll ever have to say"

The next morning, you wake up early. It’s not hard. You barely slept all night, so instead of trying for the millionth time to fall back into your bed, you throw the blankets off of you and get up. You stand up and drag one of them over with you to the window seat and wrap it around yourself.

You rub the sleep out of your eyes and look outside. The temperature has dropped even further. A layer of frost covers the grounds below your window, and swirling ice patterns cover the edges of the glass in front of you.

After getting dressed, you open your room door slowly and are met by someone outside your door. It’s Gilbert. His white hair is still messy and slightly damp.

“I was just coming to get you,” he says softly. “There’s food downstairs.”

You don’t say anything, just try to ignore the way your stomach flips when he looks at you. You walk beside him and smell the clean, soapy scent that wafts from him, hoping he won’t notice it.

Gilbert leads you to the sitting room you had been in last night, where Francis and Antonio wait for you.

The morning sun streams in, and a silver pot of coffee and food is spread out on the low table in the middle of the couches. Muffin nestles herself on your lap and you give her a good scratch on the top of her book cover. Gilbert’s hunting hawk isn’t with him, being banned from inside Francis’s seasonal home after an ‘incident’ which neither Francis nor Gilbert cares to elaborate on. You can see the large bird, perched on the stone railing on the other side of the window, looking offended as it eyes the food that sits on the coffee table in front of its owner.

After pouring yourself a cup of coffee and giving Muffin a slice of bacon from the silver tray in front of you, you bring up what is on everyone’s mind.

“We haven’t discussed how we’re going to get your final item,” you say to Gilbert, who’s sitting on the couch with you, instead of one of the available chairs. He’s not crowding you, in fact, he seems to be trying to give you some space, but you can feel his leg brush against yours.

“It’s Gilbert’s sword, correct?” Antonio asks.

He nods. “Vladimir Popescu has it in his castle on the northeast border of the woods. We’ll take the Standing Stones to get there. That’s the easy part…”

“But then there’s sneaking past Vladimir.”

“What’s he like, this Vladimir?”

You’d heard of Arthur, and you had the misfortune of meeting Lukas Bodevick in the flesh two days prior, but Gilbert hadn’t spoken much of this Vladimir character.

Antoni sighs, before saying, “Well Gilbert would know better than I would but he’s… eccentric, from what I heard.”

Gilbert continues. “Vladimir is well versed in magical studies and incredibly interested in the study of occult magics. He allied himself with Arthur to have control over the Wandering Woods himself. If Arthur and the North Isles could do as they please, he would get free reign over everything else in the Woods, and the magic properties of the forest and its people make for good studies.”

“And uniting the Woods under your court meant that he couldn’t conquer it.”

Gilbert nods. You reach and pick a small pastry to eat while you think. “There’s no way that you could sneak in and steal back you’re sword?” you ask Gilbert.

“No,” Gilbert says. “Years ago, I lead an assault on that castle and managed to run him out of it. No doubt that after he re-took the keep, he warded it against me. If anyone were to try and sneak inside Popescu Castle, it won’t be me.”

You think. You think of meeting Basil in Arbourwood, of sneaking Gilbert into the grounds of Eldenstien Manor. You remember the Laws of Hospitality.

“Does Vladimir have any staff for his castle?”

Gilbert nods. “A handful, I think.”

“Fae are superstitious creatures…” you turn to Gilbert and he understands your plan right away.

“Laws of Hospitium don’t apply when you know the person. And Vladimir has definitely been told who you are.”

“But the staff wouldn’t know who I was, especially if I was disguised. ” You look to Francis, who’s sitting forward in his seat, hands clasped over his mouth as he thinks.

“Fae glamour could work. I could make you look different, use it so you don’t look familiar.”

“And the magic could make her seem like a fae to any magical scrying.” Antonio supplies.

“Basil had said something about how the Laws of Hospitium come from a story of one of your gods dressing up as an old hag as a test of someone’s hospitality.” You turn to Gilbert, who doesn’t like what you’re suggesting.

“So you’ll disguise yourself as a beggar, in hopes that one of Vladimir’s servants will let you into the castle out of paranoia?“

You nod.

“It barely worked with Vash at Eldenstein Manor,” he reminds you.

“But it did work at Tallest Tales in Arbourwood.” You remember the way the air around you and Basil had tingled when you had asked for their help. Gilbert shakes his head. You look back to Francis.

“Could you do it?” You ask him. You already know he can. You’ve seen the magic that powers this villa, the Glamour that disguised it from outsiders. The blond fae nods, but he doesn’t look enthusiastic.

“No one will know it’s you, Cherie.”

“Then let’s do it.” You say, before standing up and brushing the crumbs off yourself.

And if the world don't break

I'll be shakin' it

'Cause I'm a young man after all

The Eastern border of the wandering woods is mountainous and cold. Tall, coniferous trees fill the landscape, and white frost covers most of the ground. When you appear in the standing stones, the familiar wooziness floods through you.

You manage to step out of the stone circle without tipping over and try to gather yourself. You’re still deep in the woods, a little ways away from Popescu Castle. The sky here is covered with gray, and the pine trees stretch high above you.

“Are you sure you can handle this?” Gilbert says. He’s also stepped out of the Standing Stones and stands a little ways behind you. “You don’t have to do this,” he says.

“Is there any other way?”

“There’s always another way, Maus,” He tries to convince you. He steps forward and squeezes your shoulders, holding you gently for a moment. “I could think of something if you give me time.” He leans into you as he says it and you sigh.

“We don’t have time.” You say. “Arthur and Lukas arrived in the Woods days ago, and every moment we wait only gives them more time to prepare.”

“I won’t be in there to…”

“I know, Gilbert. But we’ve already come so far. It’s so close to being over. You’ll have your Woods back, and I can finally go home.”

Stretching in between the silence, the wind rustles. You have come a long way since the first few days in the Unseen World. Growing on a bare, thorny bush, you see familiar red berries. Spirit berries that those fae men had tried to force into you on your first day. Despite the effort to trap you here, it would seem you would be on your way home soon.

The two of you walk past the spirit berry bush, its thorny beaches reaching your to try and snag your clothes. The pine needles crunch under your feet as you walk to the edge of the forest.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” he asks, reaching to tug your cloak around you more securely, his hands resting around your shoulders.

“I’ll be back in no time, I promise,” you say. Gilbert quirks an eyebrow. “Making a promise to a fae, little human? Be careful or I’ll have to hold you to it.“

You roll your eyes and laugh. “Just take care of Muffin while I’m gone. Don’t let her get in too much trouble.”

Gilbert gives a low chuckle. “I’ll take good care of her, Maus.” And with that, he pulls you in to press a kiss on your hairline before you turn away from him. You trek to the edge of the tree like and take a look at the large castle at the top of the cliff.

And then I can tell myself

What the hell I’m supposed to do

And then I can tell myself

Not to ride along with you

You walk up the mountain towards the looming castle. Its tall spires stretch up into the dark sky. Mist obscures the dried-out gardens and rocky cliffs that surround the sides of the keep.

With a dirty cloak wrapped around you, you walk up the mountain to a small path that wraps around to a side entrance. There are large doors in the back that look to be for moving large amounts of items into the castle, and beside it is an unassuming door, which is most likely for servants coming and going.

You walk up to the door. The wind blows through your cloak, lifting it up and swirling the heavy fabric around your body. You swallow and knock loudly on the solid wood door. It's quiet for many moments after. You knock again and still nothing. You contemplate knocking again, and the swings open, making you step back.

A young man, with pale skin and dark hair, opens the door. He’s definitely fae, telling from the pointed ears and otherworldly feeling you get when you look at him.

He looks at you with sharp, forest-green eyes, unimpressed by you.

“I need help,” you blurt out. You hadn’t really given much thought to what you would actually say, so you guess what’s spilling out of your mouth will have to do now.

The man knows immediately what’s going on.

“Don’t you dare! No, no, n-“

“I need help!” You force out one final time, and feel the air tingle familiarly around you, with the power of faerie-magic-mandated politeness.

The man rolls his eyes. “What can I help you with.” The words are pulled out of his mouth by some mysterious force.

You sigh, but don’t feel much relief. You’re not in the door quite yet.

“I got separated from my travelling party. I just need room and board for the night before heading to rejoin them.”

The words tingle on your tongue as the man steps aside to let you in the threshold. As you step through the door, you feel something wash over you, lingering for a moment before disappearing altogether. You look down at your hands and see that Francis’ glamour is still on them.

“Can I have your name?” The black-haired servant asks you, and you catch what he means.

You raise your eyes and give a knowing smile. “You can’t have my name, but you may know it.”

He rolls his eyes and mutters “Nevermind. This way, just… stay out of sight.”

You are lead inside, and the heavy iron door clangs shut behind you and sends chills up your spine.

The man drones on about where you’re allowed to go and where you aren’t, and you reach into a pocket for the smooth charm that hides inside. You tap on the carved symbol, just like Francis said, and then break off from the man that leads you away, to skirt down a side hall. A mirror image of yourself continues to follow the servant, and you take a deep breath as he’s none the wiser to your scheme.

I know that you hate this place,

And not a trace of me would argue

Honey we should run away

Oh, someday

“Mirror Image isn’t a permanent spell,” Francis had told you as he continued completing your disguise.” My magic can hide the fact that you're human for hours, but the body double won’t make it that long. You’ll only have half an hour until the illusion wears off once you turn it on.”

“I understand,” you said, rolling the activation charm between your fingers. “I’ll make my way to the display room on the upper levels, and be back before the distraction ends.”

“Good luck.”

(Your mother always had quite the opinion on luck. She never believed in it.

“There’s no such thing,” she told you once, during a quiet drive home from some. “We make choices and things happen because of them. Humans can’t see the big picture, and can’t comprehend how everything trickles down into the next. Our egos assign morality to it and call the long-term consequences of decisions “good” or “bad” luck. We distance ourselves to try and relinquish responsibility. Calling it luck protects us.”

We are often at the mercy of our choices, but more often than that, we are at the mercy of other people's choices.)

Right now, you are relying on a good amount of common sense, and the minuscule amount of information about the castle you’re in to find Gilbert’s sword. Vladimir wouldn’t keep it anywhere that was easily accessible to visitors or the staff, which rules out the ground level, and Vladimir being a rich, pompous, evil piece of shit means that like any book villain, he’s probably keeping Gilbert’s sword near or inside his chambers to look at regularly.

You have no clue where Vladimir’s chambers would be, but common sense tells you that his maids would. So you stick to the shadows and follow a pair of servants who chat as they enter a large room on the upper floors of the keep. From the crack in the door, you know you’ve found the master bedroom, decorates lavishly with personal items, paintings, and a cluttered writing desk.

You duck away as the door comes swinging open. The maids exit into the hall, and you slip inside the master bedroom as the heavy door swings shut.

The room is empty, thank god, and you take care to inspect the large space. The ornate red and black bedding is neatly made, with dozens of pillows and ruffly blankets, framed by two gothic bedside tables.

Above the large bed, you find what you’re looking for. Well, kind of.

Hung on the wall is a gorgeously crafted wooden placard, where a large, sword-shaped object is used to hang. The problem was that the placard was bare, with only the dusty outline to prove Gilbert’s Sword hung there.

“Shit.” You whisper. You can feel your stomach start to twist with nerves. It’s not here, and it clearly SHOULD be. You don’t have much time before the mirror image following around the butler wears off. You need to think and think quickly.

The sword is gone, you think, but not the placard, meaning that it's been moved recently, and most likely temporarily, probably by Vladimir himself. You don’t want to think of why he would choose to move it now, at this time, because the most likely reason is that Vladimir is already onto you, so you push that down.

You’ll have to head back downstairs to your guide and hope that the charms that Francis put over you will be enough to fool an incredibly powerful sorcerer long enough to steal from him and get away with it.

It seems you’re going to need a little bit of luck after all.

---

author’s note

*sticks head up from the hole I’ve crawled in* Its been a while! First I’d like to apologize for being away for so long. I’m ok, I’ve just lost track of time.

First I watched the new Top Gun movie and decided that I NEEDED to write a fanfiction for it, then I was pulled back into a Star Wars: Clone Wars obsession by one of the kids at the summer camp I was working at. I made an entire cast of OC’s and have excerpts of fanfic and lore about them, It was a whole thing OMG.

Then of course, Rings of Power came out, and I became obsessed. If you know anything about me, you’ll know I love a good villain, and I’ve been pulled into a Halbrand OBSESSION. Its a problem.

WOOO! Anyway, I was really happy to get back into writing this. I turned on my it will come back playlist and really got back into the world and characters, which felt a lot like coming home. This chapter marks the end of the second act, meaning that there’s only 5 chapters left of this fanfic! I am so excited to publish the next chapter, just because of what I have planned for it!

I hope that I’ll be able to stick to a more consistent writing schedule, but I won’t make any promises. The end of the semester is coming up and I’ll have to complete final projects and paintings.

I loved reading everyones comments, they really make my day. Happy Halloween!

quotes (in order)

1. Farewell Wanderlust by The Amazing Devil

2. Mind Over Matter by The Young Giants

3. The Night We Met - Lord Huron

4. To Be Alone - Hozier

tagging list: @jtownraindancer, @redrosesociety1, @xxruinaxx

#aph prussia x reader #prussia x reader #fae!prussia x reader #hetalia x reader #iwcb #iwcb chapter 12 #iwcb!fic #unseen!verse #hetalia fantasy au #gilbert beilschmidt

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the-hilda-librarians-wife · 1 year

Text

Carpe Diem - Chapter 9

Pairing: Sketchbook (Kaisa/Johanna)

Summary: Carpe diem: one of the five latim mottos of the arcadist, or neoclassical movement. Literally translates to "seize the day"

Picking up where Locus Amoenus left off, this fic follows the lives of Kaisa and Johanna for a couple weeks as their feelings grow and develop. Updated weekly.

Notes: >:)

Read it on ao3 or read the first installment on this verse or read the second installment on this verse

It was barely past 6 am when Johanna got the message. True, it was probably a little inhuman to shoot someone a text before eight in the morning on a Saturday, but considering that Johanna was usually already awake at that time, it wasn’t like she could judge. That morning was only different because she’d stayed up later than usual with her friends the night before, and the dull pain behind her eyes let her know that her body hadn’t gotten its due of slumber yet.

Even though her brain told her to go back to sleep, she’d already gotten a glimpse of the name on her screen. It didn’t surprise her at all. If anyone out of all the people she knew would be awake at that time, it would be Kaisa. Save for Edmund, of course, but he was probably also still sleeping after their late game and pizza night. What did surprise her was that it was a voice message. Kaisa never sent her those.

She unlocked the cellphone and pressed play on the message, letting Kaisa’s voice, still with a morning roughness that meant she hadn’t woken up long ago, wash over her as she laid back down and closed her eyelids.

“Hey, Anna.” She began tentatively. “Good morning, I hope I’m not disturbing you. I just… wanted to thank you again. For yesterday, and for everything else. You really are very good to me. Tildy thinks so too. And Frida. So, thank you.”

A smile spread over Johanna’s face. At the same time that she sounded sincere, she also sounded like she was reading from a script. Like she had been rehearsing what to say in her head so as not to forget once she started recording. It also didn’t escape her that apparently she’d talked even more about her to her family, and that Johanna seemed to have their approval.

Her sleepy mind did not manage to pick up on the fact that Kaisa clearly wanted her to know she had that approval, though.

“Also, Frida told me that the Scouts will be hosting a fundraiser today.” She said after what sounded like a deep breath to gather enough resolve. “They’ll be selling out picnic kits. I was wondering, if you’re free, would you like to go with me so we can spend some time together? Don’t worry about it, though, I know we’re all packed with college stuff to do.”

There was a pause. It sounded like Kaisa wanted to add something, but didn’t know what, or if she should.

“Um, that was it. Let me know when you can. Bye.”

As much as Johanna’s eyes screamed at her to not look at a screen, Kaisa would be able to see that she’d received and listened to the voice note, and she didn't want to leave her hanging. She managed a quick text assuring her that she’d love to, but put her phone on silent before she could get any texts back about what time they’d meet. They’d sort that out later. For now, Johanna went back to sleep with a dreamy smile tugging at her lips.

………

The weather closer to the town centre was radically different from that on campus. Where at home it had been drizzling slightly, there it was cloudless and the sun shone as brightly as it could for an October day.

After she’d woken up both body and soul, Johanna had made the appointment to be at the green area closest to the Sparrow Scouts headquarters at about four in the afternoon. Kaisa wouldn’t need to be driven there, she’d assured. She’d be going earlier to keep her sister company.

However, when Johanna arrived, Frida was nowhere in sight, and Kaisa was waving shyly at her from the spot she’d picked them under an Ash tree. She’d already set up their picnic, with a variety of baked goods, spreads, fruits and a couple of cold cuts, all on top of a towel that was white with a flowery pattern. There were other people sitting around the park with similar arrangements, but a quick glance told Johanna that Kaisa had brought some extra food with her to add to that which the Scouts were selling in their kits.

“Hi.” Kaisa stood up when Johanna approached her, ready to accept the hug she was greeted with. “I hope you don’t mind, I picked us a basket in advance. I thought you’d like the pattern of this towel that came with it.”

“I do.” Johanna smiled approvingly. "It's very pretty. Did you sleep well?”

“Oh, sure.” They sat down side by side, their backs resting against the bark of the tree. “I was exhausted. What about you?”

“Me too. Except I went to sleep much later than I’m used to. I had to sleep until, like, ten o’clock to get rid of the brain fog.”

After picking up a buttery biscuit, Johanna looked at Kaisa only to find that she’d gone slightly pale. Or more than usual, at least.

“Oh, shoot! I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

Laughing despite the biscuit still in her mouth, Johanna wondered if Kaisa thought most people woke up at six every weekend. Her reaction made Kaisa groan and bury her face in her hands, muttering out a coy ‘sorry’.

“That’s really okay. I found out I don’t mind being woken up by you at all.”

Lowering her hands enough that Johanna could see a roll of her grey eyes, Kaisa huffed. “I’ll make sure to remind you of that when I next need help with an essay at three in the morning.”

Johanna smirked. “Please. You and I both know you never needed my help. You just wanted to have my lovely self near you and didn’t know how to ask for it.”

“Oh, damn.” Kaisa said in the most monotone voice she managed. “Now you’ve unmasked me. Whatever shall I do?”

She shoved her playfully, and they both turned to analysing the food options in front of them. If there had been any doubt left in Johanna’s mind that Kaisa had a huge sweet tooth, it was gone as soon as she saw how her first choices were always the sugariest available. She took an entire half of the (admittedly tiny) strawberry pie as Johanna spread a heap of spiced herb butter over a cracker. The lower half of Kaisa’s face was pink by the time she finished, and Johanna handed her a napkin even if she thought the image was adorable.

“Sorry again for Abigail’s behaviour last night.” She said as she gave her the piece of paper. Since she’d come to the conclusion that the sweet biscuit had been more worth her while than the cracker, she decided to try another sweet food, a piece of the banana and apple bread. It turned out to have been the right decision, the taste rich and cinnamon-y. When she had joined her friends again after having dropped Kaisa off the night before, they had tried to pretend nothing had happened, but none of them had been pleased with Abi. Only Johanna had been truly mad, but even the rest of them had been clearly disappointed by her conduct. In the end, she’d left earlier. No one had asked her to, of course, but she seemed to have sensed they needed some time to forget about it.

“It’s no matter.” Kaisa shrugged, pretending to be more interested in the bizarre amount of pink that had come off of her face on the napkin than in the events of the previous night. “I really didn’t feel any hostility on her part. Why do you think she acted like that, though?”

Johanna took a pause, and a breath. She knew exactly why Abi had said that. The real question was, was Kaisa ready to hear it?

She’d been giving her what Johanna sincerely hoped were hints for a while now; singing love songs with her, telling her she made her life better, texting her sweet ‘good morning’ messages filled with emojis, arranging this sweet little picnic for them… and yet, she’d never made an actual move. It could be that Johanna had severely misinterpreted everything, and she was simply excited about their friendship. But if there was even a small chance that Kaisa might be interested in her romantically, and Johanna sincerely hoped there was, she’d come to the conclusion that she would have to be the one to take that step.

Well, she better not throw away an opportunity, in that case. Carpe diem, Johanna thought. Let’s see if I actually learned anything from that seminar.

“Abigail isn’t at all mean, but she isn’t daft either. I hope it’s not too self centred of me to say this, but I got the feeling she was jealous of you.”

Her eyes opening wide, Kaisa’s lips parted in surprise as she blinked. “Wait, of me? Why the hell would she be jealous of me?”

It was impressive, in Johanna’s opinion, how someone could both be the smartest person she knew and not have a single brain cell at the same time.

“Well.” As she took a deep breath, her nerves got the best of her, and made her stare forward into the park instead of at Kaisa. “That would probably be because I’ve been trying to flirt with you since we first met.”

When there was no immediate response, or no response at all for the following couple of seconds, to be more precise, Johanna worried that she’d screwed up beyond repair. So then she forced herself to look back at her friend’s face, and try to understand if it was an ‘apologise’ moment, a ‘pretend it was a joke’ moment, or a ‘get this disaster lesbian to understand someone is into her’ moment.

It was that last one. She should have known.

The confusion was evident on her face, like half of her brain was trying to decide if it was a quip she should laugh about, and the other half was processing the implications of her having spoken seriously. Johanna bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from smiling, wishing she could snap a picture of her and then place it side by side with that confused maths lady meme.

“Not to pressure you, but could you please say something? It’s starting to worry me.”

Kaisa’s face seemed to become even more panicked when she realised she was expected to have a coherent reaction to what was happening, and her eyes shifted from side to side like a deer in headlights, looking at every part of Johanna’s face except her eyes. Johanna sighed, a lot more amused than worried now, and placed her hand next to Kaisa’s on the towel. She wouldn't touch her without knowing if she was too overwhelmed for that at the moment, but the invitation was there in case the girl wanted to reach out.

“Kai.” She said, making sure to sound as patient as possible, and thinking of a clear way to word what she wanted to say. “Sorry to put this much pressure on you all of a sudden, but I’ve been crushing on you for a long while now and I can’t actually figure out if you feel the same, or if you’re happy with us being friends. I mean, I am, but I’d love it if we could try something more romance natured. I’ll be pleased with whatever you say as long as we can still be near each other, I just felt like I needed to put this out here so we could be clear with one another.”

Whatever Johanna had been expecting to get in answer, it was not this. Kaisa actually opened and closed her mouth a couple of times before she managed to get the words out. Each time she did so, the space between her eyebrows creased further, making her look more baffled.

“You can’t figure out if I feel the same?” Kaisa ran a hand over her hair, staring at the spot between their hands because looking directly at Johanna felt like too much at the moment, and she couldn’t risk losing the minimal amount of rationality she’d gathered by making that mistake. “Are you kidding me? I’ve been mad about you for like, almost a month at this point. I wasn’t aware of it for most of this time, sure, but I have! You don’t think I go around inviting all my acquaintances for private freaking picnics, do you?”

It was most likely not how she should react, but in the face of that sudden bluntness from someone she’d spent so long tip toeing around, Johanna couldn’t hold back a laugh. She hunched forward and buried her mouth in her hands, her shoulders shaking.

“Anna, I’m serious!” Now Kaisa was looking at her, and using her hands to gesticulate too. It only made her want to laugh harder, though out of delight or nervousness, she didn’t know. “I told you I listen to music because of you! That’s the simpiest thing in the history of ever, this isn’t fun! Do you think it’s easy having a secret playlist to listen to when I want to think about you?”

Johanna now felt her face warm pleasantly, and a fluttery feeling take over her belly. Not wasps, she noticed, but beautiful butterflies making a garden of her abdomen.

Or maybe goth moths, come to think of it.

“Okay, okay, hold on.” She breathed when she got her giggling under control, even if it was hard with Kaisa squinting at her like she was going to send her to sleep on the sofa despite them not even living in the same house. “So what you’re telling me is that, if I wanted to kiss you, that would be alright?”

“Of course that would be alright!” Kaisa threw her hands up in the air in defeat. “Listen, I’m trying to be as direct as I dare with you here-”

She didn’t have the opportunity to finish that train of thought. Before her courage could wane, Johanna leaned forward and pressed her lips against hers. It had clearly been an unexpected move for Kaisa, but apparently also the right one, because after a millisecond of being ice still and trying to process this new development, Kaisa sighed in something that was partially joy and partially relief, and melted into it.

It was a chaste brush of their mouths, but they drew back only long enough to look at one another with adoration before gravitating back to the halfway point between them where their lips met again. It felt like their blood was replaced with silver and stardust, like fireworks exploded just beneath their skin. Johanna captured Kaisa’s bottom lip between hers, amazed that it was just as soft as it looked, and was rewarded by gentle hands cradling the back of her head and threading into her hair.

It took them longer than it should have to remember that they were in public, in a place filled with child scouts and their parents, and even longer to bring themselves to care about it. When they eventually did, they leaned back only the distance that they absolutely needed to, their foreheads still leaning against each other, in a way that they could feel each warm puff of breath from the other on their face.

Looking at Johanna like this, face flushed and smiling at her like she was some sort of gift, Kaisa felt caught between wanting to shout her feelings from the nearest rooftop and wanting to cry. Sure, the word ‘love’ hadn’t been mentioned, but she’d just made it clear, through words and actions, that she didn’t, apparently, know how far above Kaisa’s level she was. And since she hadn’t been ashamed to admit she’d fallen this far, maybe if Kaisa was smart she could persuade her to plummet even further.

It should be terrifying. She’d always thought that she would never be close to anyone in this sense. She had thought she was too odd, too obsessive for anyone to truly be able to enjoy her presence beyond the show she put up for the outsiders in her life. But Johanna truly had. This woman had ever so gently lifted up her mask, inch by inch, and for some reason, decided that she liked what she saw. The thought that eventually she might lift it high enough and see something she couldn’t deal with should send Kaisa running, lest she get too attached and break her heart (and heavens know what else) trying to not be a disappointment. But it didn’t.

From the very beginning, Johanna had taken everything that terrified her and turned it into something new and unexpected. Kaisa had handed her well written essays on why she was no good for a friendship, why she shouldn’t want to get close, why she was everything she was running from; and in turn, Johanna had picked them up with a smile, thanked her, and turned them into artful origamis which she kept close to herself like battled for trophies.

Kaisa was so afraid. She was afraid of disappointing, of not being perfect, of the future, and of everything she couldn’t control. But she wasn’t afraid of this. And, as long as the reason why she wasn’t afraid continued to look at her like there was something in her that was worth protecting, Kaisa was sure she would be alright.

#my fic #fic: cd #verse: carpe diem #sketchbook ship #sketchbook ship hilda #sketchbook ship fanfic #kaisa hilda #johanna hilda #sketchbook college au

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finalyaksha · 2 years

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Modern Verse Drabble #4 – Fangirls (Part 1)

Xiao sighed as he replaced his pencil. He really needed to start carrying around a sharpener with how much he sketched. He was seated in the back seat of Keqing’s otherwise empty car, parked in one of the lots on campus, with only a couple other cars and bikes nearby to serve as company.

Others might think it strange that Xiao chose to wait for his girlfriend in her car rather than accompanying her to her sorority events. After all, the council was made up of his closest friends’ girlfriends, along with Keqing herself as the vice president. It would have seemed natural for him to show his face there. Two of his friends, Kazuha and Heizou, were currently accompanying Ayaka and Shinobu, with Heizou being the newest addition to his friend group and Shinobu to the sorority. Also present were several other mutual friends (Keqing’s friends, mainly) that Xiao honestly didn’t talk to that often and was sure weren’t missing him. That said, it was probably odd to most that Xiao was the only one who never attended their events.

That is, if it wasn’t for that fact that Xiao could go almost nowhere on campus without legions of female students on his tail, desperately trying to get his attention.

It was no secret to most students that he was taken, but far be it from any of his “fangirls” to care enough to not approach him. As far as most were concerned, Keqing was, at best, only deluding herself into thinking Xiao was truly dating her. And at worst, a fling. One of many, they were certain.

The general perception at Teyvat University was that Xiao was little more than a playboy who likely slept with a new girl every day. As such, while there were obviously some who were genuinely interested in pursuing a relationship with him, the majority stalked him only to see if he’d be willing to have a one-night stand with them.

Little did almost any of them know that this couldn’t have been further from the truth. Not only did Xiao have no sexual or romantic experience outside of Keqing, the last thing on earth he’d consider himself to be was a playboy. He’d always believed he was ugly and didn’t even consider the fact that these girls were interested in him sexually. Because of how often they followed him around, usually giggling because of how attractive they found him, he assumed they disliked him and did his best to avoid encountering or speaking with them whenever possible. With how little anyone really engaged with him, his mysterious aura only made him that much more popular.

Needless to say, Xiao wasn’t interested in all of the attention he’d likely bring, whether he knew the true reason for it or not. He hated crowded places in general, and even though Keqing’s presence usually comforted him, she was usually too busy as the vice president to stay by his side the whole time.

So, he sat quietly in Keqing’s car, only opening the door at fifteen-minute intervals to get some fresh air. It had perhaps been almost an hour into the event when he suddenly received a text message.

Odd. Who could be texting him when all his friends (all two of them) were currently either a part of or a participant at Keqing’s sorority gathering? His sister should have been at work and his dad was likely giving a tutoring session at this hour.

“It’s…from Mona?” he said, raising an eyebrow at his phone.

It wasn’t often that Mona texted him. She wasn’t much more than an acquaintance who, occasionally, offered him relationship advice, given that she seemed capable of seeing into the future somehow. Xiao was certainly not one to turn down any sort of advice in that respect. But the two otherwise didn’t maintain much casual conversation.

Meaning that something was wrong.

Mona: Xiao! I sense much jealousy and anger! A horrible incident is about to occur!

Xiao paused, reading the message a few times to make sure he wasn’t mistaken. It wouldn’t be the first time he had no idea what Mona was trying to say to him.

Xiao: What do you mean? Something’s going to happen?

Mona: Keqing! Shinobu! I see an altercation befalling them if something isn’t done!

“To Keqing? And…her new friend?” Xiao muttered to himself.

Unbeknownst to Xiao, he was far from the only one in his friend group with an obsessive following. While Kazuha’s following was more stagnant, Heizou had more than his own fair share of fans, and that number was only growing now that he was known as a new friend of Xiao’s. It didn’t help that many students on campus thought the latter two were related.

Xiao: An altercation? You mean they’re going to get into a fight?

Mona: Yes! Negative energies are in large amounts in the same location as them. They’re growing…and will soon combust!

Xiao was growing frustrated. Keqing may be strong and capable of defending herself, but if what Mona was saying is true, she’d be up against an entire group of people. Xiao didn’t know how well that would go over and he wasn’t particularly interested in finding out while he was hiding out in the back seat of a car.

Xiao: Why is this happening? What should I do?

While Xiao appreciated Mona’s warnings, all they did at times like this was make him feel helpless. It didn’t help that she was always so vague in detailing what would specifically happen.

Xiao looked out the window of the car. Even from where he sat, he could see several groups of girls going in and out of the building. Usually, he wouldn’t think much of something like that. But after Mona’s warnings, he couldn’t help but think this had something to do with her messages.

Mona: It’s because of you, Xiao! Can’t you see that they’re there for you?!

Xiao’s stomach sank as he read the text. Of course, it was his fault, Xiao thought. There was nothing he hated more than the fact that his unfavorable reputation was constantly causing trouble for Keqing. She was possibly going to get hurt, her event was going to be ruined, and it was going to be all because of him.

He felt his stomach get tighter by the second. He had to do something, and quickly. He hated the thought that was currently floating around in his head, but it was seeming more and more as though it was going to be his only option. He couldn’t stand being laughed at or mocked, but the thought of it happening to Keqing or her friends was ten times worse. Especially if it was because of him. He couldn’t allow them to suffer because of him.

“If…they’re after me…maybe…”

Xiao’s body was acting on autopilot now, not even consulting his brain as to a plan of sorts.

“Maybe…they’ll leave her alone if…”

Xiao gripped the handle and opened the car door.

#Xiaoqing #Xiaoqing Headcanon #Modern Au #Modern Verse #Modern Xiao #Modern AU Lore #Mentioned Kazuyaka #Mentioned Heishino #I don't know how to write Mona dialogue forgive me #More Lore that no one will ever know the context of

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kessicasrps · 8 months

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I listened to what Lottie said, swallowing hard as she brought up our own mother passing away. I definitely knew what it was like to deal with loss and grief. It was something you and I had in common, dealing with such heavy stuff and heavy loss. Although, I never wanted you to experience that pain either. I knew it was wrong to stay away from you and I should have handled it all better. I already had been a shitty friend to you and I was afraid to reach out at that moment when you were dealing with so much. I nod at Lottie, muttering to her about how she was bossy before going to the kitchen. I got you a cold water bottle from the fridge and brought up some cookies that I bought from the store. I knocked gently on your door before opening it up and finding you on the bed, it breaking my heart as I noticed you had been crying. “Please don’t cry,” I say softly, sitting on the edge of the bed and setting the plate of cookies down, handing you the water. “Please drink and just let me talk for a moment, okay? I know you probably don’t want me here and I have no excuses for my behavior. You have every right to ignore me and want nothing to do with me but the truth is that I miss you and I want to get to know each other again. I am so sorry for not being there for you when you needed me the most. You deserved so much better than that. The truth was I knew you were in good hands with my sisters and nothing I could have said would have made anything better..”

---

I sniffled softly as I sat up, taking the water from you. I made room on my bed for you to sit on so you weren’t just sitting on the edge. I looked at you as I wiped my eyes. “It’s not that I don’t want you here,” I say softly. “It just hurt not having you there when I needed you, but I can’t blame you either.” I sniffled. “You were just like family to me you know? You were always that one person I went to for everything, you were my best friend, and when we were kids you are like my older brother because I didn’t have any siblings. Your family was always family to me.” I say as I wiped my eyes. I looked away for a moment, trying to hold back my tears. “What hurt the most was when I tried to get a hold of you, and I was just shut out. This guy would always answer your phone and he’d tell me I wasn’t “direct” family, so he wouldn’t let me talk to you, even when I said our Moms were best friends. He always said he’d pass the message, but I always assumed he told you and you just never called back,” I whimpered. I looked at you again as I wiped my eyes again. “This last month has been the hardest, I literally lost the only family I had. I lost my parents. I have no brothers or sisters. Your family was always like family to me. When your sisters invited me out here, I agreed to come because I had nowhere else to go. I can’t even go back home. I was living on campus, and after the funeral, the city just handled everything, so I lost everything in my house except for family pictures. I literally have nothing, and for the one person that was always there to not be there hurt even more, it hurt worse than losing my parents.” I cried softly as my tears fell down my face. “All I wanted was my best friend, and he wasn’t there. I just assumed I was no longer important to you. I don’t know what I’m going to do after the summer passes. I don’t know where to go or anything. I have to start over.” I sniffled. “I don’t hate you if that’s what you think. You were my best friend, all I wanted was to matter to you, and it felt like I didn’t,”

I giggle softly when hearing what you said, shrugging a bit. “That’s a shame. I definitely have an affinity for getting out of control from time to time,” I tease you, finding the banter and conversation with you to flow so naturally. I didn’t usually find anyone who could keep up with me and could detect my teasing tone. I smile when seeing your teammates start to run out, knowing the game was about to start. “I guess you better get out there, Superstar. I will hang around after the game for that jersey,” I smile softly at you, my eyes bright blue as I stared back at you. I couldn’t deny that you had really nice eyes too, especially looking at them up close. I was just simply appreciating your attractiveness but it didn’t mean anything, of course.

—

“A shame? I can get out of control too. Watch me.” I smirked as I winked at you. I watched as my teammates ran out and I grabbed my helmet in preparation. “Tell you what, if I score the winning touchdown, how about you let me take you out tonight?” I winked at you. “And we can have a real good time and I’ll give you that jersey,” I winked again, hoping you’d say yes to me asking you out.

#( & are we falling like snow at the beach rp )#( & did you forget everything rp )

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digisignage · 1 year

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Why Digital Signage is Important to School Admin, IT Departments, Teachers, and Students

In today’s world of advanced tech and constant activity, it’s more important than ever to be able to communicate effectively and immediately with others when necessary. Nowhere is this more true than in school environments. But unfortunately, old methods of communication in schools have become outdated and are easily overlooked or disregarded by today’s digital, on-the-go students and visitors.

To combat this, digital signage is your educational institution’s best method of communication. Not only is it cost-effective and easy to use, but it connects everyone on campus through reliable, dynamic, real-time messages in the form of general announcements, event schedules, greetings, class notes, lunch menus, and much more.

Displays set up in hallways and common rooms reach a wide majority of your school population, while displays inside classrooms give teachers more options for integrating technology with their lessons. Efficient, highly visible, and always relevant communication is why digital signage is important in your school.

With ongoing teacher shortages and budget challenges, the flexibility of your school technology is vital. IT departments work hard to keep up with the technological demands of education today while choosing tech that integrates with what they already have and is easy for anyone to use effectively. The right digital signage platform allows IT departments to consolidate their efforts, operating all their signage from a central location using the appropriate app.

An agnostic digital signage platform can work on any connected display, including TVs, projectors, screens, and smart screens. New messages can be created on one display in one specific classroom, or you can display the same message on all connected displays throughout the campus. Messages can be text, graphics, video, or multimedia content, giving you the ability to create meaningful, engaging signs for every purpose.

Why is Digital Signage Important and How Does It Work?

Wondering how this all comes together in your educational institution? Broadly speaking, there are at least three main functions of digital signage:

Content Management and Distribution. Upload images, videos, audio, a live website, social media feed, etc. to several displays to create a media playlist.

Device/Display Management. Schedule, target, and show messages to specific classrooms, areas, or to the entire school.

Performance Measurement. Centrally manage feature settings, users, usage and displays – all in real-time.

In short, using digital signage technology gives your school admin, IT department, teachers, and other authorized users the ability to display customized content in targeted areas throughout your campus. You’ll be able to manage everything in real-time from a central location.

The ability to target messages to students and staff at a district-wide, school-wide, or even individual classroom level, immediately, is one significant reason why digital signage is important. Authorized users of the software can instantly change the messages using an app on their own phone, tablet, or other device.

Digital signage gives your school administrators and teachers the power of the digital age in an effective, easy-to-use format. In a time when moments matter, being able to immediately create digital signage and broadcast it to any connected display – or all of them – in any area or building of your school can make all the difference.

Common Ways to Use Digital Signage in Education

There are infinite uses for smart digital signage solutions for education. Consider these scenarios to begin imagining the possibilities.

Make an immediate change to a class schedule. Real-time updates are necessary. Your students and staff will never wonder where they need to be at a certain time because you can display a message that lets them know their class is meeting in the library, or their teacher will be ten minutes late.

Give students access to up-to-date news. If there is an imminent weather alert, a breaking world news story, or other vital information that pertains to your student body, digital signage is an important tool for broadcasting the necessary information.

Promote an upcoming athletic event. Any after-school event can easily be posted to your school’s displays for a real-time schedule that is easy to maintain and grabs the attention of everyone in the facility. You’ll be able to generate awareness and interest in the events that support and promote your educational institution. Not only that, students and staff who are more aware of what’s going on are also more likely to participate in the events.

Notify staff and students of emergency alerts. Safety and security is a major issue in today’s schools. Digital signage assists in the overall security of the campus because it is centrally controlled. In moments, digital signage ensures all emergency alerts are broadcast school-wide, to every building you’re digitally connected to. Include safety information, such as where to go in the event of a fire alarm, so everyone can find their way to the right places.

Share photos and videos that engage the entire student body. Digital signage is attention-grabbing, and you can use it to display images and videos in a format that people are accustomed to. Students in this generation are used to being bombarded by images, skipping over ads, and gathering information in 15-second videos. They can relate to digital messaging more than static messaging.

Eliminate the need to send out paper notes. Are you an environmentally-conscious organization striving to eliminate paper waste? Digital signage gets your message to the receiver effectively and in a timely manner. You don’t need to send home notes that will get stuffed into backpacks and lost inside lockers. Instead, display frequent reminders throughout the school on your digital signs.

Program certain messages to display at certain times throughout the day. Administrators faced with the need to display something new at the beginning of each day may quickly feel uninspired. Get rid of the daily pressure by creating a program of messages that will automatically display at your desired times and locations. From weekly lunch menus to the times of your all-school gatherings, digital signage is an important means of keeping your school operating smoothly.

The capabilities of digital signage are constantly evolving. It is no longer a passive system that pushes content. Today’s digital signage is a collaborative tool. With complete remote management, real-time content deployment, and total freedom for multimedia format selection, everyone in your learning facility benefits.

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blues824 · 1 year

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May I request a technopath s/o (someone who can control technology with their mind) with dorm leaders, ignihyde dorm, and cater as well as other twisted wonderland characters you want?

These are kinda short. I’m sorry :( Gender-neutral Reader. Ortho’s scenario is platonic.

Riddle Rosehearts

The insane amount of power you have to mess with him is just unfathomable. You love to just appear on his phone randomly, let the notification sound ring without any notifications, send random notifications, turn on or off his phone out of nowhere, etc.

However, he can’t argue or behead you because you have fixed his phone many times because he’s chucked it somewhere out of anger. This is quite the conundrum for him because he has to let your annoying behavior slide all the time.

Cater Diamond

He’s on his phone 24/7, so it’s fun to mess with him from time to time. However, he’s not easily annoyed. It just sets off a prank war between the two of you. The amount of times you Rick Roll him is just… sinful at this point. In return, he will print pictures of Rick Astley and shove them in your notebooks.

Other than that, he doesn’t really care. He finds it cool, yeah, but technopaths are actually very common in Twisted Wonderland. He offers to help you start a device repair store on campus so that you can make money, and he volunteers to promote your business if you open a shop.

Leona Kingscholar

You also like to mess with him, but there are many more repercussions. If he goes to text Ruggie for food, you mess with the messages and now the text reads ‘extra vegetables’. It always makes you laugh, until Leona finds out and he chases you around campus.

Of course, when he catches you, you owe him a lot of cuddles and naps. He would gently nibble up your shoulder just to tease you back as you both lay down in his bed. Overall, 9/10 experience, would recommend for all you Leona simps.

Azul Ashengrotto

Like any other scenario, he would try to get you under a contract. It doesn’t seem to click that your powers weren’t magic and therefore couldn’t be taken away from you unless your powers are stripped from your cells one by one.

When you get together, you volunteer to fix any electronic register, phone, or anything to help around the Mostro Lounge. You and Floyd loved to play a few pranks on his twin and your boyfriend, and Azul would get jealous to see you giggling in the corner of the room as you planned your tricks.

Kalim Al-Asim

He thinks you’re super cool. He would even hold out his phone to you just so you could make a little animal (of your choice) or smth appear on it. You don’t have the heart to mess with him, so you just use the little animal to send messages to him.

He loves to send you text messages back. Good morning, good night, hello, I need help with Crewel’s homework, love you, have you eaten today, have you drank anything (have you?) and stuff like that. It allows him to remotely show you how much he cares.

Vil Schoenheit

He is impressed. Your powers were highly versatile and covered almost any and all fronts of technology. Because we all know that Vil has a hidden inferiority complex, you will go on to his Magicam before he does and delete any hateful comments.

To you, it seems like he doesn’t know what you’re doing behind his back. He does know, he just won’t tell you that he knows. He is grateful that you do it because it means that he can start the day off right. Thank you, Y/N.

Idia Shroud

Omg same! You both are technology fanatics. You both love to work together on anything, and you even enter yourself digitally in whatever project you both are working on just to make sure nothing goes wrong.

Honestly, dates are easier since you can upload and unload yourself from the internet, so you both can go on dates virtually. He wishes that he had enough courage to take you out somewhere in the real world, but you are totally okay with joining him in a video game.

Ortho Shroud

This precious bean thinks you’re so cool as well. You act like an older sibling to him, as well as his Jiminy Cricket. You even use your powers to upload your conscience to his software so that you can always accompany him. He loves having a friend by his side.

He trusts you to help his older brother with upgrading his software, especially since you can go inside of it and fix any bugs that might cause a problem later on down the road. You had no problem because it gave you more time to hang out with your two most favorite people in the world.

Malleus Draconia

He is truly fascinated with your abilities. He knows absolutely nothing about technology, so you act as a guide for his explorations across the great wide internet. You’ve even helped him with the process of ordering stuff online.

In general, he always follows you around. You even appear on his tamagotchi from time to time to catch up with him if he can’t get away from his retainers. These secret meetings between the two of you give him the feeling that you were both star-crossed lovers (my least favorite trope as a reader and author).

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ateezmakemeweep · 2 years

Text

back to you (part 10)

word count: 15k

angst, fluff, smut

(part 9) (series masterlist)

you weren’t suspicious until the fourth unanswered text message.

the feeling of anxiety and doubt that had finally left you for the past few weeks coming back with a vengeance as you settled back into life on campus.

you, san, wooyoung and yeosang had gotten back on sunday evening, stopping to get a quick dinner together before you all made your way to the dorms.

you and san had parted ways in a completely normal fashion, or at least what was your new normal - him flashing you a dimply smile with his hand on your waist, eyes teasingly looking down at your lips before just barely brushing them.

wooyoung and yeosang lingered in the hall, not wanting to see the sight before them but letting it happen. almost as if they knew it was fleeting.

almost as if they knew when he mumbled that he’d “see you later,” you wouldn’t see him ever again.

you expected him to maybe text you that night but didn’t think much of it when he didn’t, the both of you preparing for classes to start up again.

but by friday, almost a whole week of him not texting you back or reaching out, that old, familiar feeling of doubt settled in the pit of your stomach.

san had been nothing short of a sweet, funny and protective friend during your winter break together; you saw a side of him that you hadn’t before, something more vulnerable, caring, and almost humanly.

“you make me wanna be good, y/n,” he finally blurts out, your eyes filling with tears because it’s the first time you’ve heard his voice like this before.

the first time you’ve heard him sound so honest and genuine and slightly vulnerable, you thought there was no way he was lying.

“or better. a lot fucking better than i am. is that stupid to say?”

he wasn’t just the boy who crept into your room at night, said all the right things with his tongue in your mouth or his hand between your legs. who left you feeling so cold and lonely and used.

he had made sure you were okay at all times - falling asleep with his arms around you, creating a soft and playful banter that made you disgustingly happy, being so gentle and attentive after sex, it made sappy tears burn the back your eyes.

tears that burned because you’d wanted that for so long.

but now, with not hearing from him, you began to question more and more with every passing day if everything that happened between you two, maybe, meant nothing at all.

maybe you just made it all up in your head, the soft looks and his different attitude and the fact you two had had mind-blowingly passionate sex for almost three straight weeks.

you had just felt the most secure in your relationship with him you’d ever felt and it only took five days for it to go to shit.

“i’m not gonna... discredit anything, because i don’t know what exactly happened between you two over break,” yeosang said earlier this morning, trying to hear you out without judgment on your walk to class (though also wanting to be honest).

“but... if it only took a few days for you to feel that unsure about your... relationship, y/n,” (and he uses that word loosely) “maybe you guys need to talk again.”

it hurt him to say that to you because he had seen the change too, it had even acted as a catalyst to the fight between him and wooyoung - but he also knew his boyfriend wasn’t constantly warning you for nothing.

he knew how san was too, saw it with his own eyes a year before you were even here, and also wanted the man nowhere near you; he’d almost given him the benefit of the doubt after seeing the recent change in him, but he now knows choi san just fooled another person in his path.

“what exactly did she say?” wooyoung asks, not quite sure how he feels about you confiding in his boyfriend over san; he was happy you two were close but the idea of it made his skin crawl.

“woo, i don’t wanna act like i’m snitching on her because i’m not,” yeosang says, a frown on his face as they wait for your last class to end.

“but i’m just getting concerned. i think she just thought she was gonna see this big change in him after whatever happened between them and that they were like... dating now or something.��

“i mean to be fair how the fuck couldn’t she?” wooyoung growls, recalling just how fucking weird san was with you over break. “did you see the way he was?”

his touchiness, his possessiveness, the way wooyoung barely got a moment alone with you because san was always two steps behind you; it made him positive that this was gonna happen.

lead you to think because san was away from all his other suitors and needed you close by that all of his affection was completely and utterly pure.

and wooyoung doesn’t know, maybe a small part of it was - he knows san can be good when he wants to be - but him ignoring you ever since you got back was not a good sign.

for you nor the play boy himself, because he’s one second away from getting the shit kicked out of him.

“i did,” yeosang says softly, feeling his heart ache for you; he wishes you met anyone but san here. “i thought it was genuine for a second, too.”

wooyoung will never admit it aloud but so did he.

something about the tick in his jaw when he went to touch your sleeping form. or the way he’d catch san smiling at you when you two thought he wasn’t paying attention.

how something seemed to shift between you two after new years eve.

something more touchy and light and intimate, almost like you two were a couple who, after a long time, had finally taken that next step to-

“hi guys!”

there’s a twinge of happiness in your voice despite your neutral face, very subtle and suppressed but something he hears nonetheless; there’s a sinking feeling in his stomach that, maybe, it’s because you finally heard from san.

that just a simple hi or small smile from him could completely lift your mood and spirits.

“hey y/n,” yeosang says, just as smiley and happy as scoots over for you to sit. “how was class?”

“good,” you say, throwing a look at wooyoung when he greets you in the form of a soft kick under the table. “long. my one class is 3 hours.”

“that’s disgusting,” wooyoung sneers, a laugh leaving you as you nod your head.

“very. the professor is nice, though.”

you talk for a few minutes about your classes, yeosang telling you he’s back in creative writing and wooyoung teasing that he better not find a cute, charismatic boy he falls head over heels in love with.

you bite down on your lip as you watch the two talk, yeosang elbowing him lightly as wooyoung throws an arm around him affectionately.

you’d think it’d be uncomfortable to watch them be so coupley right before your very eyes, wooyoung pecking a kiss to his temple and yeosang blushing at the outright pda, but you think it’s nice to see after their fight.

after how happy and sweet they’ve been to each other ever since that night because having a less than two hour argument had made them both so upset and needing to love each other again.

“something tells me that wouldn’t happen,” you giggle, sharing a look with yeosang because there’s no way he’d ever find anyone more charismatic than wooyoung. “you’ve traumatized him for life when it comes to outgoing, loud people.”

“you’re supposed to say he’d never find anyone as sweet, caring and attractive as me you fuck. what are you good for if not to hype me up?”

“don’t you know? i like yeosang more. we’re still working on list about you, you know.”

1: incredibly intrusive. comments too shamelessly on our appearance/ embarrassing moments.

2: disgusting eating habits. want to vomit when he eats noodles with his hands

3: when he finally falls asleep and leaves us alone, he either snores, sleep talks or throws himself on top of us.

4: doesn’t understand the concept of personal space.

5: loud. way too loud. so ear piercingly loud, we can’t hear ourselves-

“that list was absolute fucking bullshit!” he whines loudly, again successfully proving, both, four and five as he leans into yeosang and piercers your ear drums.

you giggle as yeosang pushes the boy off with a groan, your phone lighting up causing you to jump - you don’t know if you feel more nervous when you see who it is or thinking it could’ve been san (sam).

wooyoung bites the inside of his cheek as he looks over your face, watching as it drops every so slightly. you bite the tip of your tongue in a way that makes wooyoung cringe, a new nervous tick that is way more displeasing than your knuckle cracking.

yeosang is even starting to notice too.

“everything good, y/n?”

you press your lips together as you meet the two boys’ gazes, going back and forth about if you wanna share the email you got this morning.

being an undecided major still, there were so many classes you’ve taken and tried you’re hardest to be interested in - history, philosophy, literature, sociology.

you’d taken a liking to psychology, talking about how the mind works and trying to figure out why people act the way they do (something you were personally consumed by during this fall semester), but you never could’ve imagined it in the setting of an art class.

having the ability to connect your innermost feelings, troubles, and worries about yourself and the people around you to create a work of art that expressed those worries.

art therapy, in a sense, something you’d never done before but your professor stressed was an incredibly undervalued form of therapy.

you hadn’t thought much of the assignment until you were throwing yourself into it during class, all your dark, muted colors and abstract type art a complete contrast to your classmate’s fun pop of colors.

you couldn’t even quite understand why something about it was so unnerving and haunting when you finally saw the finished piece; you had worked on it for weeks without really knowing what you were doing.

you just knew that, after every class, some of your anxiety was lifted for a short while.

just by going with colors and patterns that seemed to work in your cluttered mind and painting what felt right; you would’ve thought you’d done it wrong if you didn’t get an a on the assignment, feeling happy and victorious but leaving it at that.

it was just another class, another assignment, another topic you thought was interesting but didn’t wanna make a living out of; you didn’t even know what the hell you were doing half the time.

“it’s not, like, a big deal or anything...” you finally say, not sure why you’re feeling nervous or embarrassed about this; it’s a good thing and you know it but you still feel... weird.

“do you remember that art class i took last semester?”

“the, like, art therapy one?” wooyoung asks, a mock look of annoyance on his face. “where you ruined my white shirt with all of your sad black and gray paint?”

you roll your eyes as you pinch his arm, ignoring the pit of nerves in your stomach.

“yes and i said i was sorry,” you say, biting down on your lip because how did everyone seem to know sad was the theme of your work except you?

“but my professor from last year sent me an email this morning and asked if my... painting, i guess, wanted to be featured in some art show next weekend,” you share quietly, feeling warm heat on your cheeks.

“she told us in the beginning of the semester all of her students work is automatically considered so i don’t think it’s actually anything that amazing or a big deal but-”

“literally shut the fuck up right now,” wooyoung interrupts, smacking your arm lightly before you can discredit yourself even further. “that’s so fucking cool, y/n! it’s not like they would’ve picked it if it was dog shit so obviously it had to be good.”

“dog shit?” yeosang says flatly, a strained chuckle leaving your mouth as the blonde looks at you with a soft smile.

“but for real, y/n. that’s amazing. congratulations,” he says, knocking your feet under the table playfully. “i didn’t know you were a secret brooding artist.”

you let out a giggle as you shake your head, thinking it’s quite insulting to real artists to consider you one.

“i’m definitely not,” you chuckle out, licking over your lips because okay, sharing that wasn’t too bad; you don’t know why you felt embarrassed to share that.

or embarrassed about being excited to share that.

you just never found anything you were really good at and it felt cool to know that, maybe, you’d be able to share this with people you care about.

“i told her it could, of course, be featured but that i probably wouldn’t go since i don’t really-”

“um what?” wooyoung snaps, his loud snippy tone one you know all too well (but still manages to make your ears bleed). “you’re the artist, y/n. you have to be there! when is it? we’re going. you’re crazy if you think we aren’t going.”

you have a stare down that you know very well you’re gonna lose, a smile pulling at your lips when wooyoung narrows his eyes playfully.

“when is it?”

“next saturday.”

“well then we have our next saturday plans,” wooyoung says happily, tapping your pink cheek playfully. “my little sad tortured artist.”

something tells him he doesn’t wanna know who your muse was.

is.

you roll your eyes as a smile pulls at your lips, looking over wooyoung with mock annoyance; he talks before you can scold him, probably because he knew you were gonna.

“but the question is now... what are tonight’s plans?”

for once, introverts won 2 versus 1 tonight and secured a movie night in at yeosang’s apartment. the others were either out at a party or on dates, leaving the three of you free to have your highly awaited harry potter marathon.

it was during the first four movies, now starting the fifth with a grand total of 10 hours, that you almost witnessed yeosang and wooyoung’s second life-altering fight - if your best friend was gryffindor or slytherin.

“you are not cunning nor sly in the slightest woo,” yeosang argues for the 8th time tonight. “you wanna be slytherin so bad, i get it, but you’re just not. you don’t fit it the way you think you do and-”

“how are you gonna sit there and say i’m not charming?” wooyoung whines, screaming and crying as if yeosang told him he wants to leave him. “my charm is literally the thing that got us together! you just don’t want me to be slytherin because you are clearly hufflepuff.”

“i could care less about that, i just know that’s not where you belong.”

the chuckle that leaves you at their banter is quickly interrupted by a yawn, looking down at your phone to see it’s almost three in the morning; you’re surprised you’re still up to be honest.

getting back into the swing of school meant getting back on a good sleep schedule and it was hard to do that with how much your mind had been racing.

memories that kept replaying of you and san from the past three weeks. from all the little dates:

“i really don’t know if we should be driving for ice cream in a blizzard,” you say doubtfully, san in your car’s drivers seat as he slowly makes his way down the block.

you only lived two blocks away from the best ice cream place in town and you made a grave mistake in mentioning that to san; he had you up and out of bed before you could even blink, throwing his hoodie at you with his dimples leaving you unable to say no.

“one is bad enough,” you say, cold food in single digit temperatures and actively on the road as you ignore winter weather warnings. “but both? san, i think we might-”

“y/n, angel, c’mon now,” he say, his voice so sweet and smooth like honey. “do you think i’d ever do something to put you in danger?”

“well, we’re driving on an icy road in blizzard-like conditions because you need ice cream so...”

he scoffs at your teasing tone, keeping his narrowed eyes on the road before reaching over and taking your cold hand in his.

“and we’ll get there in one piece, baby.”

the ice cream was worth the sheer terror of driving there, giggling when san taps the tip of your nose with his chocolate-covered finger and then moaning against his lips when the taste of his chocolate and your strawberry mingle.

to bedroom euphoria:

“i swear to god, y/n, you have the prettiest pussy in the fucking world,” san groaned, the compliment that, without fail, made you squeeze around him.

you were on his lap, his hands between your legs as he fingered you for the third time tonight; it was like a never ending cycle of pleasure, your heart so warm and fluttery because of his arms around you or his playful kisses pecking you before your eyes were rolling back at the feel of him inside you.

the feel of his hardness under you that made you so badly wanna ride him.

put your hand on his shoulders, look him with the growing confidence you’re slowly getting day by day, and watch his face as you sink down on him; but he only ever lets you playfully tease yourself, rub his cock on your clit and circle the tip around your slit before he’s pushing you on your back.

“i know you wanna ride my cock, angel, i know you do,” he mumbles lowly, his smirk on your skin because he knows one day, he’d kill to see you bouncing on him.

“but i think it’s about time i fuck the life out of you.”

to the little inklings of light and vulnerability that the man allowed himself to have with you, like during your last night together.

“can i ask you something?”

your words are soft, mumbled and you don’t even think he would’ve heard you if it wasn’t for the fact your head was right on his bare chest. he looks down at you while mumbling a questioning “hm?”, eyes so attentive and soft, it’s no wonder you’ve fallen stupidly in love with him.

“when we’re on campus again, can we... go to the cafe again together?”

he expected you to ask him something that would smack him back to reality like this, remind him that your time together (and thus, his soft boy act) is quickly coming to an end, but he didn’t expect that.

he fully turns his head so he could look at you, a small smile on his face as he reaches for a piece of hair framing your face.

“i think we can arrange that, angel,” san smiles, guilt ripping at his insides. “what made you ask that?”

you bite down on your lip as your real, genuine answer bursts at the seams, everything about san and the relationship you two have created making you feel as if you can be honest.

“i don’t know, i just miss going,” you confess, your soft spoken voice causing his heart to squeeze; your pure honesty is one of the things that always hurts him the most.

“we’re only ever in my dorm now since midterms picked up.”

since he gained your trust enough for the “you up?” texts to start. since he began to just seek you out in the comfort of closed doors and get what he wanted from you.

“i know, baby, i’m sorry,” he hums lowly, head bending down to press a gentle kiss on your shoulder; you never understood a shoulder kiss until san stated doing it these past few weeks.

he doesn’t even mean to blurt out his next words. they just slipped out without him even thinking, so lost in the calm moment and your sweet presence.

“i should’ve made more of an effort to see you like that,” he mumbles, knowing how wrong it was when he was treating you the way he was. only seeing you in the night and trying to avoid you in public.

meeting other girls he got to blush so easily but didn’t look quite as pretty as you at other cafes around campus. he remembers the one day yunho saw him, the man’s tall presence difficult to miss.

they both acted like it never happened and, sometimes, he wonders if that’s why you asked him if he was seeing other people right before break.

“i’m sorry if... stopping that ever made you feel bad. i just got busy.”

i just established the trust that i needed.

i just knew that you’d answer when i texted you.

i just had a feeling that, if i kept seeing you more and more and getting to know you opposed to your body, i’d be in the same fucking place as right now; his attempts proved to be useless anyway.

“no, no, it’s okay, i get it,” you smile up at him, ignoring the way your heart is pounding in your chest.

you’re sure he feels it against his bare one but that doesn’t embarrass you anymore - how could it when he knows very well how much he effects you?

“it’s not even a big deal, i just thought it was... something else we could do. if you wanted.”

it doesn’t seem like much saying that but it was a lot for you. putting yourself out there for more in the simplest, more bare minimum way.

and you thought for sure it wouldn’t have gone so wrong.

you’ve really been wondering over these past few days if you’ve just overthought every little thing that happened. if those moments weren’t as sweet and monumental as your mind is making them out to be.

because how could he switch up so fast if everything was genuine?

how could he smile at you the way he did, be as soft and sweet and gentle as he was with you, tell you all the right things to make your heart feel so happy, just to forget about it all in less than a week?

ignore you as if you meant nothing to him and as if the past month didn’t even happen.

maybe he wishes it didn’t.

maybe he was just bored.

maybe he just-

“jongho? you’re saying jongho is slytherin but not me?” wooyoung gasps, ripping your from your thoughts as you wish to never hear the term slytherin again.

“if that’s what you think then, honestly, maybe we should break up. i’m sick over this right now. who else do you think is slytherin? huh?”

“you’re so dramatic, woo, god damn,” yeosang grumbles, just wanting one night of peace before always being reminded there is no peace with his boyfriend around.

“who else is slytherin? tell me. humor me. enlighten me.”

you bite back a smirk just as you’re about to put your phone face down on the table, not being able to handle your racing thoughts anymore; it’s the first friday night after winter break, there’s no way he’s texting you tonight of all nights.

“you know who i think slytherin? do you really want me to tell you?”

“i just said that, did i not bitch boy?”

you press your lips together so you don’t burst out laughing, catching the outraged, determined look on yeosang’s face like he’s about to make a life altering comment.

“fine. if you really wanna know. i think, in a complete unbiased opinion, that-”

san.

you catch his name (well, code name) right before you put your phone down. staring down at it until you feel your heart pick up, that slow but steady hard pounding you can eventually feel in your ears.

you know, even from the small, remaining high of your month together, that you should ignore this.

pretend you’re sleeping, watch the rest of harry and potter while yeosang and wooyoung make you laugh through it and, at least for a moment, try to forget about the man who’s so bad for your heart.

distance yourself the very same way he’s doing because obviously, his need to see you and be around you isn’t the same as yours for him; that all goes out the window when, a few seconds later, he texts you two more times and your curiosity (if that’s what you wanna call it) gets the best of you.

sam [3:11 a.m.] hi angel.

sam [3:13 a.m.] what’re the chances ur up right now?

sam [3:14 a.m.] babyyyyy :(

you don’t even have to see or talk to him to know he’s drunk.

it’s just an inkling you’re getting, deep in the pits of your knotted stomach that, of course, the first time he reaches out, he’s a shit faced mess.

you can faintly hear wooyoung and yeosang in the background, still arguing about hogwarts houses and wooyoung’s rightful status. you can’t help but feel grateful for the distraction they have, knowing the five stages of grief just crossed all over your face.

you also can’t help but be a little petty.

you [3:17 a.m.] no

it would feel good if you didn’t feel so shitty already. if you didn’t know for a fact that, somehow, someway, he was gonna be in your bed tonight.

“angel, why did you say no if you were very clearly up?” san asks for the 500th time, stumbling into your room as you trail behind quietly.

you were half amused and half upset to see san in the current position he was in, flopping down on your bed with such comfort and relaxation, you feel embarrassed about how much you’ve been stressing over him.

thinking and overthinking and having your mind so completely plagued by him, just to see him laughing and smiling at you like nothing ever happened. like he didn’t just make you crazy with doubt and confusion over the past week.

he had only had to beg a few times over text to get you to agree to his master plan: make his uber stop at yeosang’s to pick you up before you both escorted each other back to the dorm.

you knew yeosang and wooyoung were suspicious when you said you were gonna leave for the night, yeosang asking if you were sure and he thought this was a a sleepover while wooyoung looked at you with such disdain, he may as well have called you a stupid bitch.

you also knew that that would mean coming to your room with him, even though you felt the most horrible pit in your stomach staring at the drunk, emotionally draining man in your bed.

how could he manage to make you feel, both, the happiest and saddest you’ve ever felt in your life?

“what are you doing over there?” he mumbles, faintly aware of your figure lingering by the doorway.

you hate that his voice still manages to make your stomach swoop, especially when he talks to you with that deep, soft almost whiney tone; you’re able to stand your ground for all of a few seconds, before his head turns toward you and he reaches out for you with a handsome, lazy smile.

“baby, c’mere.”

you hesitantly make your way over and sit like you wanna be anywhere else. you don’t even realize there’s a frown on your face until san taps at the lips he knows so well.

have longed to feel under his this week, amongst other places, but hasn’t had the courage to seek out. for reasons that make him scared and selfish.

“are you mad?”

you look down at him to see him sprawled out under your blanket so comfortably, contently, black hair flopping messily over his forehead. a part of you wants to reach out and swipe at the strands, smile sweetly down at him and tell him that you just missed him.

have been been thinking about your month together and wanted some reassurance that you know he can’t give you.

but another part of you, the part that’s been hurting and doubtful and starting to sting with resentment, seems to taking over - he had been so sweet, made you feel so loved and comfortable so what was with the sudden change?

and why is back to acting in ways that hurt you? why are you even letting him hurt you?

“why would i be mad, san?” you ask softly, hoping he’ll maybe give you some answers tonight - real answers, not just the stuff he knows you wanna hear.

because he’s really good at doing that and you know deep down you have to stop falling for it every time.

“i don’t wanna make you mad. or sad,” he says, his words slurring and hushed.

you know you two shouldn’t be having a conversation like this right now. shouldn’t try to have any serious discussion right now that you put your feelings into just for him to forget or drunkenly disregard them.

but in an uncharacteristic fashion, san just keeps talking.

“you should be happy, y/n. i-i want you to be happy.”

his words hurt even more because he’s the main reason you’re not.

“i’m not mad or sad, san,” you promise him softly, the smile on your face saying anything but; you definitely couldn’t lie to him and say you’re not unhappy.

though what does it matter, given how much this man has lied to you?

if san was completely sober, maybe he would’ve caught it. saw how the words or the soft, sad smile didn’t meet your eyes and that the sinking in his stomach wasn’t from the copious amounts of alcohol coursing through his system.

“you just... confuse me,” you admit softly, voice barely above a whisper as you peer down at him.

you can’t stop your hand from swiping at those dark, tantalizing strands, the way a small, content smile crosses his face and his eyes close completely fooling you.

he seems at peace with you. comfortable with you. like you’re someone he trusts and cares for and would never wanna hurt if he tried.

so why does he? why does he time and time again make you feel like this? back and forth, back and forth, with doubt and insecurity before a quick burst of excitement and something that feels like love overcomes you.

“i don’t know if you mean to, or if maybe i’m just the one who’s confused ” you chuckle out humorlessly, not being able to stop the words pouring from you. ”but you do, san. a lot. you always have. i never know what you’re thinking or what you want from me and i... i i don’t even know what or why you-”

“it’s cause i want it that way, baby.”

the words die in your throat as you watch him below you, any trace of his soft smile or smirk gone. now it’s just this haunting look in his eyes you’ve ever seen before, never once seeing him look at you this way.

almost like it’s longing. or pity; you can’t quite tell and that scares you more than his next cryptic words.

“i’d rather you be confused than disappointed. b-because you’re too good, y/n, you know that?” he mumbles, your gaze trapped on his making you feel worse by the second.

“you’re t-too fucking good and expect too much,” he slurs, twirling one of the strands before pulling you down gently; it stings at your scalp ever so slightly.

“and you’re definitely too good for me.“

“why would i be disappointed?” you ask, ignoring the ache in your chest because, finally, you’re staring to think he may be right.

“i think...” he hiccups, shimming himself into your sheets like it’s his house and home. “we both know the answer to that, angel.”

tears burn the back of your eyes because it’s like you already know where this is heading. or where it has to head.

you know that you had your time with him, whether it was genuine on his part or not, but that’s not what you’re about anymore.

you know that he was your first insight into what dating and love and relationships are about. how they could be beautiful and exciting but also something so negatively consuming.

how they could eat away at your mind and make you question every little thing about yourself and the relationship you’ve created.

you know that whatever happens from here on out is most likely gonna destroy you (more than it has). you already feel the dread and hurt that san is gonna be quick to finish off and show you everyone’s been right about him.

you know that wooyoung is gonna comfort you but not before telling you he told you so.

“can i stay here tonight?” san mumbles, his eyes already closed and body lax against you; you predict there’s only about a minute until he falls asleep.

you learned that his breaths get just a little bit heavier before he falls unconscious.

you go back and forth about what to say, variations of it’s not a good idea because we know this isn’t gonna help either us, before he pulls you down beside him.

your head just misses his as he throws his arm around you, moving you until you’re flush against his body and your inhaling the smell of his sweatshirt. it smells like a stuffy house party, beer that was probably thrown on him and the distinct scent of him you became far too enthralled by.

you feel like it’s one of the last times you’re gonna smell him this close and it makes those burning tears come back, a knot in your throat as you finally nod your head silently.

san mumbles something under his breath, voice deep and slurred as you catch your name at the end of the sentence; when you peek up at him, he’s already fast asleep against you.

his arms tight around you, breaths wafting over your skin and your singular tear breaking free that you just can’t acknowledge right now.

you wake a few hours later to the sun in your face and san’s arms still wrapped around you. warm and comfortable in his embrace, it’s the best you’d slept since being back on campus.

you hope it has something to do with the dorm’s heat kicking back on and not the company you’ve kept, your gaze shifting to see him looking down at you sheepishly.

there’s just a few beats of silence as you both look at one another, you still adjusting to consciousness and san trying to remember how the fuck he ended up here last night.

he woke up relieved to see you both still had your clothes on, not sure how he’d feel about sleeping with you in the state he was is last night.

about doing something so intimate and fulfilling, something he’s been longing to do since the second you two parted ways last week but didn’t allow himself the pleasure.

because he doesn’t know what words or confessions would come out of his mouth in the heat of the moment, with his cock buried in your tight, wet pussy and you laying below him with such a sweet look of love in your eyes.

he feels like a sick fuck to be getting hard the way he is right now.

“morning, angel,” san says, once your eyes have finally adjusted and you smile at him in the late morning light. “i don’t remember how the fuck i ended up here if i’m being honest but what a pleasant surprise it was.”

your heart sinks but you can’t even count the reasons why anymore.

“you all but forced the uber to pick me up at yeosang’s last night because you were ‘drunk and vulnerable,’ and in need of assistance,“ you recall, air quotes around the words he drunkenly typed out last night.

he smirks because that sounds about right, licking over his lips as he tightens his hold to pull you closer.

“and of course you helped me in my time of need, angel. i can always count on you, can’t i?”

his words are teasing and you know they are but it still makes you feel stupid and embarrassed; he knows the power he has over you.

it’s becoming abundantly clear.

you press your lips together so you don’t blurt out something you’ll regret out, gaze roaming his face before you ask if he remembers anything from last night.

“not really, no,” he says, fear swooping in his stomach for a split second. “why? did i say some weird shit?”

call you a different name?

blurt out a deep dark secret?

profess some undying love that he can’t (or won’t) confirm or deny just yet?

“no. not any weirder than usual,” you tease softly, not about to throw all of his weird, cryptic words back into the universe; that’s for you to overthink and mull over the rest of this week until you drive yourself fucking crazy.

he narrows his eyes at your words before squeezing your hips teasingly, one moment beside him, gazing up at him, and the next above him. straddling his waist as he wears a playful expression that makes a smile pull at your lips.

this is your favorite type of san. the playful, teasing, dimples poking out in the light of the morning sun san.

not the hidden in the darkness, hushed words and “i can’t give you everything” san.

“oh? and what’s that supposed to mean, huh?”

you wanna tease back just as much, call him out for the weird sleeping habits you’ve became aware of or make fun of the strange voices he sometimes uses when saying certain words.

you wanna go back to rolling your hips over him in the hazy daylight hours, like the mornings you spent having sex in your room until you couldn’t walk.

you wanna feel like for once in your life, the love you’ve longed for so deeply is finally being given to you by a man who doesn’t seem to believe in it.

and because he’s sober now, he catches that fake smile that doesn’t meet your eyes and squeezes your hip with a concerned look on his face; it looks genuine, looks how he used to before you got back to school, but you can’t even tell anymore if he actually cares.

you feel stupid even being honest when he asks what’s wrong.

“for real, y/n, did i say something dumb to you last night?” san asks, getting increasingly concerned about the look on your face. “i usually don’t black out but if i said something, i need you to-”

“no,” you immediately say, blurting out so you fear it seems suspicious. “no,” you repeat, shaking your head with a small smile. “you didn’t say anything, i just...”

you can’t get the words out at first, something on your face so scared and apprehensive, san feels his stomach in knots. he doesn’t know if he does it for his benefit or yours when his hand slowly starts running over your hip, cold fingertips grazing the warm skin of your stomach.

it feels like electricity shoots through you at his touch, not realizing how much you missed it until your body is yearning for more; even with how much left over hurt and confusion you’re feeling.

you wish you could separate your annoying sexual attraction to him and growing emotional instability. it would’ve made this journey a lot less taxing on your heart.

“i though you were avoiding me,” you finally squeak out, the words just as pathetic as you suspected, you feel your face get warm.

san’s eyebrows pull together, surprised you’re being as bold as you are calling him out like this.

he had seen your messages and had meant to get back to you the first time. then the second time, then the third - but then the more days that passed, he had felt that panic and fear building in him at his desire to see you.

not even to have sex with you, just to see you.

he missed waking up with you.

he missed eating with you.

he missed spending the days with you, talking to you about nonsense and laughing at how far away the conversation had become.

but there was such a level of commitment and deepness in that that scared him more than it settled him. the high that he got from being with you not quite seeming to outweigh the panic and anxiety that came from being that deep with someone.

from acknowledging the feelings he has for you and just how far they seem to run - but, of course, because he’s a fucking coward, he’s not about to tell you any of this.

he tightens his hold on you while wearing a frown, cocking his head to the side in confusion. or what he knows looks like confusion.

it pays off being an expert liar, even to the girl he thinks he might-

“i know you probably weren’t,” you blurt out, an attempt at damage control due to the anxiety coursing through you and his deafening silence. “or, even if you were, that’s... i know being back at school is busy. but i just didn’t know, like... if we were still...”

you don’t know what to say without sounding like everything that scares him, not wanting to say if were still together or if we were still friends because you didn’t seem to be either of those things.

he made it a point to hint at you guys never being together and you don’t think friends do the types of things you two do. to the extent you do with the type of fervor that you have.

maybe you should’ve just never opened your mouth. or told him to stay. or even started this shit with him in the first place.

maybe you should’ve just listened to everyone and their-

“baby, i wasn’t avoiding you,” san says softly, his voice so gentle and sweet, anyone would’ve believed him. he’d probably somehow pass a polygraph test, or have the administer convince everyone the machine was broken.

“i was just busy getting back on a school schedule,” san explains, also not even a lie because his sleeping schedule has been royally fucked since waking up at noon every day last month.

“i saw your texts but just kept forgetting to answer. i’m sorry.”

you bite the inside of your cheek as your flush just gets deeper, now certainly feeling crazy and dramatic and so fucking embarrassed - you were adjusting to school too.

“n-no, it’s okay,” you say, shaking your head because is it? you really think there had to be more to it.

“it’s not, angel, that was wrong of me,” he says, smiling when he catches the intense blush on your cheeks. his hands move up to cup your cheeks and you move to smack his hand away, feeling like 1000 degrees.

“and if it’s okay, why do you look like a tomato?”

“shut up,” you whine, attempting to swat at his hands but san only getting more playful and teasing. like your freaky little confession didn’t scare him as much as you secretly suspect it did.

“you do, though,” he says, your body writhing above him as a smile pulls at your lips. “right here. and here.”

he points at both of your cheeks with his cold fingers, his loud laughing echoing throughout your room.

“i missed seeing them. i’m glad they made a timely appeara-”

you’re able to grab a pillow and smack him in the face before he can finish his sentence, his words muffled and a giggle leaving your mouth.

you both turn into a flurry of sweet chuckles and flailing arms. your pillows lay on the floor and your blanket hangs half off your bed, you now on your back as san looms above you.

his one leg is slotted between both of yours, broad shoulders above you as he looks at you with a cocked brow.

“now that wasn’t nice.”

neither was you ignoring me for a week.

“i didn’t do anything.”

his eyes narrow and you copy his movements, a smirk on san’s lips before the inevitable happens - his eyes drop to your mouth, pink tongue peeking out to lick over his dry lips, before he catches the hint of desire in your gaze.

it never fails to hit him just how sexually attracted you both are to each other, a certain look in your eye and feeling in the air when you two are alone and in bed together.

no matter how you’re both feeling, something sad lingering behind your eyes or his mind plagued by how shitty he is, you’re always ready for that pleasure.

even if it just numbs you both for a moment, has you breathing words into each others skin that one thinks too much into and the other barely means, it’s the best you both feel during the day.

it feels natural and right and you two can’t help but long for it as much as you do.

you’re scared by how quick the arousal and desire hits you, his bulge between your legs and the reminder of just how long it’s been since you last came hitting you hard in this moment.

you wait for him to kiss you but he never does, just looks down at you and touches everywhere but where you need him most.

he pushes your messy morning hair back, plays with the strands and tucks them behind your ear before tracing your cheekbone softly. he roams over your face as if he’s trying to memorize it, like someone studying braille.

it feels meaningful and sweet, his movements so gentle, you can feel your stomach start to flutter.

“are you gonna kiss me or not?” you mumble, san’s finger halting as his lips pull into a smirk.

his finger moves from your face and down your lip before he’s trailing over your pulse point, feeling just how much it’s sped up on his journey down here. he’s not ignorant to the way his bulge is hard and straining against you, the pulse in your neck matching the one pressed up against him.

“i’m gonna do a lot to you,” he promises, his words deep and teasing as he presses down on your neck. “i feel it, you know.”

you look up at him with wide eyes and he wants to chuckle when you start to grow red again, watching in amusement as you manage to mutter out “f-feel what?”

“how much you missed me,” he says, his hand tracing over your tank top and into the waistband of your shorts. he bites down on his lip when he’s immediately met with your wetness, remembering in this moment that you don’t sleep with any underwear on.

“fuck, angel.”

you throw your head back with a whine when he immediately starts tracing your clit, movements slow and steady as he draws small circles.

“spread your legs.”

the command and your compliance is immediate, your legs widening as much as your shorts allow. he takes that opportunity to slip a finger inside you, curling it as his thumb speeds up on your clit.

“mm, fuck baby, that’s so good,” he praises, another finger curling in because he wants his cock in you now. “so tight for me always. want my cock in you.”

“please,” you whine out, your hips moving along his hand because how does he get you like this so fast?

“ah ah, no yet, baby,” he chuckles, giving one last thrust of his fingers before pulling them out.

he pulls down your shirt with one hand until your boobs are exposed, tracing your nipples with the wetness from his fingers. the cry of his name does everything to spur him on, finally moving to your lips after you so politely ask him to kiss you.

it’s heated and sloppy and everything your kisses always are, clothes being discarded one by one until his cock is just grazing your hot, aching slit.

“please, san, please,” you beg, san circling your clit with his cock.

he’s so hard, painfully hard and ready to bust the moment he enters you, but he loves to see you like this. writhing and whining and begging beneath him, nipples hard in the air and wetness dripping down your legs.

all because of him - he knows one day, probably sooner than he thinks, he’s really gonna fucking miss this.

his dick might not ever recover - he might have to only think of you to get hard now.

fuck girls from the back even more often and imagine they’re you. bury his face into their neck and pretend it’s your vanilla scent in his nose instead of something flowery or citrusy.

he’s gonna have to pretend that he never ever felt this way before. that it was for the better he decided to break your heart.

“oh, my god, san,” you finally whine, voice high pitched and breathy as he finally slips inside you.

he immediately moans as your tight walls close around him, his cock already buried so deep inside you, he knows he’s about to fuck the life out of you.

your legs wrap around his waist and you cry out at the sensation, his cock fucking into you so perfectly, you don’t know how you went as long as you did without it.

“holyfuck, y/n, holyfuck,” he grunts out, his lips attaching to yours because he can feel those cursed three words on the tip of his tongue.

he kisses you so deeply, so roughly, his tongue attacking your mouth as he fucks into you like a madman, to ensure he doesn’t say it. to ensure that he doesn’t allow his pleasure and your wetness and cries of his name, that get him every time, to confess something he swore he never would.

because the fears outweigh the good.

all the good things he’s felt with you - happiness, contentedness, a fierce protectiveness and calmness he’s never quite experienced before in his life - couldn’t possibly outweigh the danger, destruction and everything he’s worked so hard to avoid.

he’s never failed at not falling in love before, hasn’t even come as close to whatever the fuck he got himself into within these past few months, and he can’t start now.

not with someone like you, who is obviously to sweet and fragile, although you take his cock and come like it was made for you.

his favorite part of sex just a week before (apart from busting inside of you) came to be cleaning you up.

gently wiping all the come and wetness between your legs before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his body.

he’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel good for him to, if it didn’t become one of his favorite parts of the day, afternoon and night after having some of the most intense sexual experiences he’d ever had in his life.

but he could actually feel the emotional toll it took on him, after the first time.

how he noticed your eyes get softer and smile get sweeter. how his heart ached every time you watched him do it with a sort of wonder your eyes, like you were shocked but delighted he was doing it.

but he was most shocked by the intense way, after the first few times, that he felt the need to do; he couldn’t seem to rest easy or feel satisfied unless he did it.

and now, as he’s pulling out of you, your breaths heaving and faces sweaty, he can feel that need coming back. his eyes going to reach for his discarded shirt and his body ready to flop down next to you.

but he knows that’s the last thing he needs to do right now. not when he feels himself already disconnecting and shutting himself down from you.

all for good reason.

and you would’ve felt it too if you weren’t so fucking happy from your post orgasm daze. if the sex didn’t just feel like what you two had been doing for the past month of your life and reminded you of the the happiest you’d ever felt.

“that was...” you begin, breathless and winded as you expect to see san beside you.

your stomach immediately plummets when you see him standing up and searching for his clothes, his head turning to you before his face lights up with a smile.

“fucking amazing?” he finishes for you, reaching over to peck a quick kiss on top of your head. “always, angel. always with you.”

always with you. as if it’s not amazing and just merely mediocre with someone else.

you shake the thoughts from your head as you smile at him, watching as he pulls on his boxers and jeans as he hovers over you.

“thank you for letting me stay, angel. i’m sorry if i ruined your night.”

not my night, just my life.

“you didn’t,” you smile sweetly, shaking your head before blatantly looking him over. “but... do you already have to leave? i thought, maybe... we could get food or something.”

“when we’re on campus again, can we... go to the cafe again together?”

he fully turns his head so he could look at you, a small smile on his face as he reaches for a piece of hair framing your face.

“i think we can arrange that, angel,” san smiles, guilt ripping at his insides. “what made you ask that?”

the conversation hits him like a freight train and it takes everything in him not to crack, his eyes twinging with that same look from last night, something like longing or pity, before he reaches down for your hair.

“i’m supposed to meet jongho for training at 11,” he says, just about the only truth he can give you right now; the two men meet there every saturday morning.

you don’t even realize the pout in your lips until he’s leaning down to peck it away.

“i’m sorry, baby. another time, maybe?”

if, maybe, now means never.

you smile softly because you have a sinking feeling that maybe is just to be nice, only nodding because that pesky lump is making its way back in your throat.

san’s gaze roams over your face and looking at you has never made him so sad, an unfamiliar tightness in his chest - he doesn’t wanna leave you but he knows he has to.

he’s not good for you and you’re not good for him; if this was just sex it’d be fine but it’s very clear that it’s not. was clear from the very beginning that this probably wouldn’t be for you and now that it’s hitting him too, he knows this can’t be any longer.

“thank you again, angel,” he finds himself saying, bending down to meet your gaze with ease. “for always being there. i appreciated it more than you know.”

tears burn the back of your eyes and you wonder if he realizes he used the word in past tense, the ache growing so painful and deep in your chest.

you don’t speak because you know your voice will crack so you only nod again, san looking down at you as if he’s waiting for your answer. he’s back to being unreadable, eyes blank, face stoic, and you’ve never hated his ability to mask more than right now.

while you’re about to completely break down and he’s just... staring at you emotionless.

“you... you really can’t stay?” you ask quietly, voice barely above a whisper as you do this one more time. just one more time, you promise yourself, and then you’ll never try again.

“you’ll only skip this one...”

a humorless laugh chuckles out of him as he shakes his head, knowing he has to get out and get the fuck out fast because there’s a weird sensation building in the back of his eyes.

“i can’t, angel, i already missed because of break,” he says, a sad smile on his face as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. “you really made me slack off, you know?”

he’s teasing and playful and it’s never been more sad than it is now, san looking over your face one more time, with a little something more behind his eyes, before he leans in and place a gentle kiss on your cheek.

“i’ll see you around, y/n.”

his gaze hasn’t left you since he returned your paper, completely unnerved by how easy it is for him to just so confidently and cooly have a person trapped under their presence without even doing anything all the while you’re a warm mess.

“i… i’m sorry again. for hitting into you.”

“don’t be,” he smiles, the dimples that poke from his cheeks about to be the final thing that does you in. “maybe i’ll see you around, y/n. careful where you walk.”

you watch him turn and walk to your door with a sinking feeling in your chest, completely naked and vulnerable as you sit up in your bed.

“wait,” you say, watching him stop in his tracks and seemingly debate if he should turn around; but his only other choice would be to ignore you and he’s not quite sure he could start that while still being in the same, sex-smelling room as you.

he turns and looks at you with his dimple poked out, his quiet “yeah?” sounding like it was spoken over an intercom.

“i... i have this... thing, i guess, on saturday. not today saturday but next saturday,” you ramble, a smirk fighting to make its way on his mouth - what thing are you talking about?

“if you’re free, i would really like if you-”

his phone ringing pierces through the air and successfully cuts you off, something holier than thou in the air saving san again. he’s not surprised to see it’s jongho calling at the strike of 11:01 a.m., turning his screen to you so you can see the boy’s name.

“he’s gonna scream at me,” san chuckles, his heart in his stomach as he looks over you. “we’ll talk later, angel, okay? i gotta go.”

you somehow knew that wasn’t gonna happen. and that, the next time you saw him, you’d never wanna talk to him again.

if you thought the first week back from school was bad, you completely underestimated choi san’s power to continually destroy you. your body went into what you could only guess was survival mode, every waking chance you get filling your schedule with pointless shit to do.

to distract yourself from just how devastated, used and betrayed you were feeling.

you had done assignments four weeks in advance for your classes including a 10 page midterm paper and your part of a group project.

you reorganized your room to a borderline psychotic degree, color coding your closet and changing up the orange boho theme of your room to a soft, muted pink.

you hung out with wooyoung and yeosang with almost no objection, something both of the boys were pleased about but also slightly suspicious of - you at least turn them down for dinner once during the week.

the final straw was how fast you agreed to go to a party tomorrow night, wooyoung throwing the idea out there and hiding his surprise when you seemed to perk up a bit.

“that’d be fun,” you said with a smile, something so happy and extraverted in it, even yeosang side eyed his boyfriend at your reaction; they both figured since you have your show on saturday that you’d wanna stay in tomorrow.

but they didn’t know just how much you were hurting inside, truly falling apart at the seams and grappling with the heart ache that was wrecking your chest.

because ever since that night last week, after san fucked you and left you alone again, you hadn’t heard from him again. not once, not even when you texted him a few days later asking if he was free for lunch and not even after the hour of midnight.

you looked out for him on campus but didn’t even see him there; it was funny how you guys used to bump into each other all the time and now you never seem to catch him during the day.

you were expecting to maybe see him tonight at the party, waiting for wooyoung and yeosang to show up at your dorm building.

you remember when your main motivation to go to these for one thing and one thing only - seeing san and getting that warm, giddy feeling of excitement brewing deep in your chest.

but now, the thought of seeing him tonight, made your heart sink.

because the power he has over you is coming to a head and just making you feel bad. you know he’s just gonna put on that mask and smile at you (if he even acknowledges you at all) and end up in your bed later that night with false promises and fake looks of affection.

they have to be fake. because you can’t imagine he actually cares for you and would still treat you like this.

“let’s goooo bitch!” wooyoung yelps, his head out the car window and a look of, both, amusement and distaste on your face; maybe you could’ve had a different distraction tonight, like starting a new show or journaling your pathetic emo feelings.

you take a few steps toward the car before wooyoung speaks again.

“go around,” he says, craning his head toward the other side of the car. “we have a surprise in the backseat.”

your stomach doesn’t have to drop because you know never in a million years would wooyoung surprise you with his roommate, making your way around the car with a look of confusion on your face.

“woo, if you’re trying to bring your grandma to another frat party, i’m gonna have to respectfully-”

you open the car door and are surprised by the way your heart jumps, a familiar, handsome face with blonde wavy hair; the last time you saw him, it had been blue but they both somehow to fit him so well.

you can still see the kindness and warmth in his eyes.

“not a grandma,” hongjoong says in a amusement, a smile pulling at his lips as he ushers you in the car. “nice to see you again, y/n.”

tipsy off one drink, it was hard for you to notice just how good you and hongjoong got along. it was like no time had past with the man, going back to your spot outside once wooyoung and yeosang inevitably disappeared.

you have a feeling they might be pulling the same stunt as last time.

“are you thinking what i’m thinking?” wooyoung mumbles to his boyfriend, you and hongjoong chatting across the table with sweet shy smiles and wandering eyes.

“that i wanna go home?”

“besides that,” the man whines to his boyfriend, nodding his head toward you.

yeosang turns to watch you and hongjoong with a smile, very much liking this arrangement instead.

he got a good vibe from hongjoong immediately, everything about the man genuine and pure. his passion for music was obvious as well as his kindness, even with his teasing eyes toward wooyoung showing clear affection and warmth.

it’s a much better alternative to who he thinks you were looking for when the party started tonight, something he’s gonna keep from wooyoung for now.

“i ship it,” yeosang declares, turning his head back to wooyoung. “they look sweet together. hongjoong’s the charismatic musician she needs.”

“right! and not the dick-ish kind. he’s an authentic one. will write her songs and poetry and shit.”

“will you write me poetry?”

“yes. but only if you follow my very discrete and sneaky plan so we can give y/n and hongjoong some alone time. and i know she’ll feel comfortable enough with him so i’m not a bad friend, don’t worry.”

regardless of your best friend’s intrusive ways, having hongjoong by your side tonight seemed to be exactly what you needed. the complete change in having someone so sweet, attentive and caring.

someone so interested in how you’re genuinely feeling and what you’ve been doing, you’re not quite sure hongjoong is even a real person.

“so, how have your classes been?” hongjoong asks, the two of around the roaring fire; it warms him face so nicely, his blonde hair the warmest tone of yellow. “you’re an undeclared major, right?”

a smile covers your face that you can’t control.

“yeah,” you say, a soft nod of your head and you will yourself not to blush for once in your life; you can’t stop the baffled chuckle that leaves you. “i can’t believe you remember that.”

hongjoong’s eyebrow raises and something about it makes your stomach swoop; was he always this handsome and flirty?

“what, you think i’d forget?” he teases, his body moving ever so slightly closer to you. “do you remember mine?”

“well, yeah, of course. music,” you say, because how on earth could you forget something like that? “but that’s cool. of course i’d remember that.”

instead of him laughing the way you hoped he would, his lips only pull into a sad smile as he shakes his head.

“yours is cool, too, y/n,” he says, seeing that your nerves and self depreciation is still very much prevalent four months later. “i missed hanging out with you... you know. all of you, really,” he says, as if to save himself a little.

“i wanted to read out to woo but never knew if i should.”

you don’t know if it’s from the fruity drink or because you hadn’t seen him in so long but you love how easy he is to read. his eyes have always been so soft and clear and pure, it’s like you can see this man’s kind soul right through his eyes.

there’s nothing deceptive or dark or something that makes your stomach twist in pain. he’s just... good. and you’re not used to that these days.

you’re not sure you would know what to do if you had that but it’s nice to think about for a minute.

“of course you should’ve,” you squeak out, not even realize what you’re saying as the words come out. “we mostly just go to dinner or watch movies if we can get wooyoung to stay in. but it’s fun. i... i think you’d like it.”

“i think i would too,” hongjoong smiles, biting down on his lip as he sees a way in.

when he first met you, he didn’t wanna pressure you or come on too strong; it was obvious you were scared, hesitant and just generally uncomfortably in your surroundings.

but after not seeing you in so long, his mind going back to you ever so often in your absence, he would hate to miss this opportunity to see you more now; even if it just meant hanging out in a group, although he wants to try and take you out just once.

“you still with that san guy?”

the mention of his name makes your heart squeeze, your eyes wide and heart starting to pound as you look over at hongjoong.

“w-what?”

the blonde can’t help but feel like an asshole for blurting that out after seeing your reaction; but he’d saw how possessive the stranger was of you, how he looked at him like he’d been taking something that belonged to him instead of someone who was an individual.

everything about it had made him feel uncomfortable.

“last time he pulled you away,” hongjoong says, “i didn’t know if you guys were together or...” the man trails off, the look in your eye causing his heart to ache. he has a feeling something happened and that the storm lingering in your eyes has everything to do with it.

“i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have said anything.”

you push all those feelings aside as you take in hongjoong’s apologetic face, shaking your head as you smile at him softly.

“no, it’s okay,” you insist, watching his eyes shift between emotions. “i... we’re not together. we never were. we were just... friends, i guess.”

hongjoong feels relief flood through him at hearing that, still not sure how to approach this but knowing, he at least wants to try; he’s intrigued by you because you’re sweet and kind. because you seem so selfless, pure and loyal and he wants to be someone who gives you that right back.

he’ll be the first to admit he’s been pining over you since the night he first met you.

“well, if that’s the case, no pressure at all, y/n, i just...” hongjoong knows he has to be delicate, the very same way he was when he was asking you for your number that time.

“would you wanna maybe go to dinner or watch a movie, just us? i’m totally cool hanging out with you and woo too, i just... couldn’t help but ask,” hongjoong says, an awkward chuckle bubbling out of him. “since, you know, i might not see you for another four months.”

a soft giggle would’ve left your mouth if your body wasn’t pulsing with fear and excitement, someone as sweet and as cool as hongjoong asking you out right now.

the man you’d done nothing for in the slightest, just talked and gotten to know and even rejected giving your number too, but him still being so kind. his eyes are swarming with a look of fear and insecurity that you now all too well and it tugs at your heart.

hongjoong’s too good for you the way you’re starting to see you may be too good for san.

so why do you want them both? why do you wanna accept hongjoong’s invitation while also still being so tortured by san? why are you wrapped so tightly around san’s finger when you know you have to break free and-

“shit, i’m sorry, y/n, this was a terrible fucking time to ask you,” hongjoong says, taking your silence and blank facial expressions as a huge fuck no.

“we just finally saw each other again after months and i throw this on you. woo thought it’d be a good idea because he knows how much i’ve been wanting to take you on a date but-”

“no,” you blurt out, stopping hongjoong from blabbering on in a flustered, uncharacteristic fashion; his face drops ever so slightly and you rush to finish your sentence.

“i mean, yes,” you say, a small smile tugging at your lips. “yes, i’d... like it if we hung out. i missed hanging out with you too, hongjoong.”

it’s like you told him he’d won a small lottery prize when a smile lights up his face, his lowly spoken “really?” causing you to giggle quietly.

“really,” you say with a nod, a mix of emotions swirling through you; he’s not san but he’s better and you have to get it through your head that those are the facts.

hongjoong’s sweet. hongjoong’s kind. hongjoong’s safe.

he might not elicit the same strong reaction of desire and intrigue in your body but you know for a fact he’d be good for your heart. even if it’s just one shot at a date - which reminds you of hongjoong’s last few words.

“wait... did you say wooyoung told you to ask me?”

and speak of the devil who rushes outside and directly toward you, taking one look at hongjoong’s look of guilt and embarrassment and knowing, somehow, he’d spilt the fucking beans.

“hongjoong, if yeosang wasn’t puking his god damn brains out right now, i’d kill you for being such a fucking idiot.”

“i didn’t mean to, it just slipped out.”

“wooyoung, do you make it your life’s mission to embarrass me or something?” you whine to your best friend, looking over at him with a pout on your face - how could he tell hongjoong to ask you out (although he claims he already wanted to).

“well, look, it worked okay!” wooyoung says, leaving yeosang on the front porch steps to gather youboth.

“hongjoong was pining over you really fucking hard, like lowkey almost pathetic and weeniesqe, and you’re... going through something so it seemed perfect but anyway! yeosang has been puking since we got here so i called an uber. i told him he has to rest for your show tomorrow so i-”

hongjoong turns his head to you with a confused look on his face, embarrassment swarming your cheeks at your best friend’s stupid loud mouth.

“show?” hongjoong asks with intrigue, a smirk on his face at the color of your face.

“it’s nothing big, one of my professors just-”

“chose her work out of a thousand students on campus to be featured as a tortured, up and coming artist tomorrow night? yeah, it’s kind of a big fucking deal, kim.”

you let out a sigh as hongjoong’s smirk grows into a big smile, nothing more amusing than a sassy, borderline obnoxious wooyoung.

“she didn’t tell you?” wooyoung asks, not sure why he’s surprised you wouldn’t be boasting about it.

“she didn’t,” hongjoong says, side eyeing you with a mock look of disdain. “not even when i asked how her classes were going or if she had anything else planned for this weekend.”

“sorry. you were too busy asking me out.”

a snort leaves him and wooyoung that causes you to giggle in return, a tooth in your lip as hongjoong shoots you a look that causes your heart to jump; it’s shy but playful and everything about it brings back that giddy feeling just a little bit.

maybe this will be good for you. it’s a different kind of giddy but it feels... nice.

maybe hongjoong’s exactly what you need to restore your faith in everything and make you forget about-

“the show is in the commons from 7-9,” wooyoung says, inviting hongjoong before you can think about getting the words out. “you better be there, joong.”

you elbow wooyoung roughly and hongjoong smirks in amusement.

“i have an audition at 8 but i’ll be there right after,” hongjoong smiles, watching the way you’re about to protest before he shakes his head.

“don’t even try it. i’ll be there, y/n,” the blonde says, his words firm but sweet. “and then maybe, i can take you out after. if you’re up for it. i know how draining being an artist can be.”

you giggle with a roll of your eyes, wooyoung watching the sight befoer him with a growing excitement.

“yes. love this. artist love. artist passion. how sweet,” wooyoung says, clasping the back of your shoulder tightly. “but unfortunately, my idiotic love is currently puking his fucking guts out all over the front steps so we gotta go, like, now. hongjoong, are you staying?”

the blonde nods as he tells you he was meeting people from his classes here as well, his gaze never leaving yours. as if, if you asked him to come, he wouldn’t think twice about telling them he had to go.

but you only smile and nod your head, sharing shy smiles and pink cheeks as you tell him you’ll see him tomorrow; you’re barely away from wooyoung before you’re smacking him in the arm roughly.

“are you serious, wooyoung?” you whine, making your way through the gate as your eyes search for yeosang. “why didn’t you just tell him i’m desperate and that you’d give him money for asking me out?”

wooyoung rolls his eyes as he, too, searches for his boyfriend, spotting him hunched over on the steps.

“oh, get over yourself, y/n, he wanted to take you out the first night he fucking met you,” wooyoung says, dragging you roughly over to yeosang. “now help me. this motherfucker didn’t even drink so i don’t know what he’s puking for.”

“way to call your dying boyfriend a motherfucker, maybe i should-”

yeosang turns over to puke his brains out into the bush beside him, a grimace on your face as you think about the clean up charge you’re about to get in the uber.

“y/n, seriously, i’ll ask jongho to stop over if you want me to-”

“wooyoung, if you ask again, i’m gonna kill you.”

the art show wasn’t as nearly terrifying as you thought it’d be; you were more scared when you woke up this morning and wooyoung told you yeosang was sick with a horrible stomach virus.

maybe cause you already woke up so defeated in the first place, a shitty nights rest coupled in with a phone call you absolutely didn’t wanna have leaving you empty inside.

any time someone came up to you and complimented you work, you feared they would see just how little progress you made getting out of that sad, dark headspace.

because art and mental health are about growth - doing little things day by day that make you feel better. make you feel proud of the work you put out or the person you wanna become.

you’re beginning to question the kind of person you are, your mind so consumed by last night, you’re beginning to realize you’re sick of being weak.

the second your eyes spring open, the vibrations next to your face like an earthquake, you somehow already know who it is. the clock reads 3:08 am and you know any call at this hour is a bad one.

a tragedy, an inconsiderate telemarketer, a man who thrives off you being so weak and vulnerable for him, he doesn’t seem to ever know when to stop.

“hello?”

“hi, angel.”

that nickname just makes you mad now.

something that once filled you with such happiness and butterflies now making you see red; the next few seconds are as silent as you room, san thinks you’ve fallen back asleep.

“y/n?”

you’re frustrated by the tears that threaten to prick your eyes, wondering what the fuck this man wants from you. he’s breaking you and he has to know it. why can’t he just stop?

“what san?”

he can hear the exhaustion in your voice. not the exhaustion from the hour, from him interrupting your sleep as always, but from him. from what he’s doing to you and from what he’s too scared and selfish to end with you.

now it’s his turn to be silent, whether it be him not knowing what to say or the harsher tone of your voice.

“what do you want?” you finally ask, the lump in your throat approaching fast. “i was sleeping san. you... you always do this.”

“i’m sorry, angel, i was just... thinking about you,” he says, thinking about you more than he cares to admit this week. “i didn’t see your text until the next day and-”

“it’s okay,” you cut him off, not wanting to hear any of the fake shit that’s about to leave his mouth. “it’s fine. i- i don’t care.”

he bites the inside of his cheek at how hurt you sound, regretting in this moment even calling you. he didn’t know what he wanted to say to you, just found himself going to your name out of habit, and now he really doesn’t know hearing how upset you sound.

he wants to comfort you but he thinks it’s past that point now.

“i’m sorry, y/n. fuck, i’m so sorry.”

tears burn your eyes and you think he might be a little drunk. not wasted to the point he was the last time you saw him but something definitely in his system to bring that guard down a little.

“i don’t wanna hear that anymore from you,” you tell him, shaking your head because how many times is he gonna say that and then continue to hurt you. “i... i’m so tired san.”

you’re tired because it’s 3 am and you’re tired because he’s draining you.

you’re tired because you have a great date tomorrow with a man who actually seems to care abut you and is kind but you’re still crying over him.

you’re tired because you know if he asked you to come over right now, you’d open your door to him despite the way you’re on the verge of a complete emotional breakdown.

“i know, baby, i’m sorry i shouldn’t have called. i just...”

he wracks his brain with anything to say to you. anything that will make this class not as pointless and selfish as it is in this moment.

“the other night, before i left,” he says suddenly, as if his brain is lighting up with an idea or recollection. “you mentioned... something happening on saturday? not this saturday but next,” he says, mimicking the words that you rambled out.

you don’t know how to feel about him remembering, something pulling in your chest; you can’t quite tell if it’s happy or sad. if you’re holding one to one last bit of hope or frustrated beyond belief.

“what is it?”

you bite the inside your cheek as you debate about telling him, knowing how easy it would be to telling him nevermind or nothing and have him forget entirely.

but maybe that feeling, that stupid foolish feeling that broke your fragile heart, is one last bit of hope after all.

“i... it’s this art show type thing. not a big deal, my professor asked if one of my paintings from class could be featured,” you tell him, your voice soft from sleep and shaky from nerves; you’ll never not feel weird telling people about this.

“i have to go because wooyoung thinks it’d be good. i... some people are coming and i was gonna ask if you wanted to but i don’t think that’s-”

“i’ll come.”

his words don’t make you feel anything at all - excitement or anger or that stupid fucking hope that’s continually failed you. you just feel like an empty shell at this point, knowing this is the first lie san is gonna tell you tonight.

“really?”

for the first time, san can’t gauge your voice; it sounds like it should be surprised or hopeful but you only sound drained. maybe even a little sarcastic, like you don’t expect anything from him.

and why should you honestly?

“yeah,” he says, “what time is it?”

you grapple with the feelings inside you that are trying to protect you, two sides pulling viciously, your head and your heart, before you let out a sigh - who cares anymore?

if he comes, he comes. if he doesn’t, he doesn’t.

“the commons from 7-9.”

“i’ll be there,” he says, thinking he’s lightening the mood when you mumbles out his second lie of the night. “you’re my favorite girl, remember y/n? how could i not be there?”

“there’s only forty minutes left, y/n, maybe i should just-”

“wooyoung, go,” you whine, nearly pushing your friend away from you and toward the door. “yeosang’s sick and wants you the most when he’s like that. you’re being mean to him.”

it was dirty and you knew it but it worked because no less than two minutes later was wooyoung out the door and you were left alone.

there were only a few stragglers going around and looking at the artwork, your professor going back and forth while shooting you with soft, sympathetic looks the whole time.

you’re surprised she didn’t refer you to some outside counseling, given the way she’s been looking at you. the way you’re sitting behind the desk with your head down and fingers intertwined, cracking your knuckles every so often.

you just want this to be over.

you want to act like you never invited people to this stupid thing and you never wanna see that stupid, sad depressing painting ever again.

you just want to-

“sorry i’m late.”

you look up to see hongjoong with a soft smile on his face with eyes directly on you.

his hair is slightly windblown as if he’d run here and his backpack, presumably for a keyboard, looks to be half the size of him but he looks so happy to be here standing in front of you.

his eyes take in your painting with an admiration you’d only ever seen in regard to your body, hongjoong looking from it to you like he doesn’t know what to say. like you’ve completely stunned him speechless.

“i might be biased, y/n, for obvious reasons,” he says, a smirk pulling at his lips. “but that’s the most beautiful thing i’d ever seen.”

your cheeks turn pink and you can’t stop the laugh that bubbles out of your chest, something fluttering so deep inside your stomach, you don’t even think about how san never showed.

“okay no but you’re like a real artist,” you tell hongjoong, the two of you walking down the street to a popular bar restaurant less than an hour later.

you were in a completely different headspace than when wooyoung left, a pep in your step and happiness radiating through you; hongjoong’s presence was something truly powerful, his calmness and goodness just so pure, you couldn’t help but feel better.

but not even hongjoong will be able to calm the storm you’re about to encounter, completely and blissfully ignorant as you smile and giggle with him; he holds the door to the crowded hot spot open, thanking him quietly as he follows behind you.

“did we not just come from your art show?” hongjoong asks, holding up two fingers when the hostess catches his gaze. “i merely had an audition. you were already set.”

you roll your eyes as you push him lightly, his eyes catching yours as you bump arms gently.

that’s exactly how you walked over here. arms bumping, fingers grazing, the conversation so sweet and teasing, you wish this is how your dating experiences were.

calm. sweet. pure. nothing like the fucking disaster you were used to dealing with.

the server calls you over and hongjoong guides you the same way he did during that party, his hands respectfully on your shoulders and his mouth mumbling in your ear.

“just wanted to let you know our specials are...”

on the walk to your table, you catch the black hair out of the corner of your eye. messy from hands running through it, wavy just the way you like, you couldn’t help but turn your body to really see it for yourself.

and there it was, finally for you to see.

choi san sitting there, a girl in his lap and his arms wrapped around her waist, as he makes out with her like he’s done it a thousand times before.

(part 11)

tag list: @mochibabycakes @atinyarmyx1 @baekhvuns @bunbaebae @markleeyeosang @nlost21 @cherryeoniis @xxhoseoksie @lost-midnight-flower @toothlessshiber @utopiakys @seonghwanotes @harry-the-pottypus @cherryatiny @mirror-juliet @personher @paigeeastman @marsophilia @khjssss @aaaaajonghooooo @ateezinmymind @lcstanqlonely @annyeongffs @yuto-darling @hoerangdan @gummygowon @dollarfear @vanishingboots @rindomo @kamikazemission @sleepingrenjun @hwashope @atz-diary @tttaxicab @dei-lilxc @jooniebug @gayliljoong @lmhmh01 @rae-blogging @se-onghwa @bestboiericsohn @haknyeonsju @linours @revehosh @theaufanartist @sanraes @luvdhl @sunnyteez @tbhmingi @justineasian @skzxlevanter @hhj-00 @naomi-lim @bestboyyunho @gingertalksshit @potayaa @hwaist @baguette-atiny @dairyminki @mxrcayong-main @novadox @serialee @cottagegorefairy @yeombin @choisandilf @rdiamond2727 @enivivs @djmalikzayn @curlygirlr @mingkisbitch @choisandilf

couldn’t tag: @mbbykh @lvrecfe @justalittlehappines @shinestar-niko @taromilktee @nabiobetyong @tayyainthehood @mingkisbitch @marksflvr @hyunjeansuniverse @ateez-after-dark @atthispointwhoevencares @imaaroy @yelebz

#does making y/n a tortured artist make her ten times more pitiful #yes absolutely #also #i couldnt bother to proofread the last 80%#so pls lmk if there r bad typos jvfdvkd #san angst #san fluff #san #ateez #ateez angst #ateez fluff #san x reader #ateez x reader #san imagines #ateez imagines #san scenarios #ateez scenarios #san series #ateez series

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sunflowergyeomie · 3 years

Text

can you handle it?

sypnosis: jeonghan is a real pain in the ass, we all know that. he always seems to get you to do things you never agreed on doing, you try not to fall for them though. what if one day you accidentally fall into his trap and give in, without knowing at all?

pairing: yoon jeonghan x gn!reader (vagina bearing)

genre: established relationship, fashion design student!au, architect!au, smut (18+ only)

word count: 2.9k

warnings: profanity, m!dom, degradation, lots of cum play, fingering, creampie, unprotected sex, pet names, size kink?? if you squint

a/n: bcos the irl girl version of jeonghan (aka my devil angel twin) @shuajeong told me "there aren't any fics of jeonghan lately", thus ✨this is written purely for you and your pain 😘 i have to say though, this isn't my best work :( i kept going back and forth and i rewrote and changed things at least three times so 😖😖 (i'm lowkey done with it so i'm sorry i tried, i really did) please forgive me.

Challenge?

Oh, it’s a challenge, alright.

Annoyed is what it is, lips pressed tightly together as you sink in the indescribable feeling. That’s what was currently happening seeing how there is a huge load of cum in your panties – an ignorant aftermath of your quickie with Jeonghan this morning before he drove you to class.

He even had the nerve to question how long you could stay like that for the entire day. You took that as him asking for a challenge and having been with you for a while now, Jeonghan knew you were never one to back down from them. Having basked in the afterglow of sex sure made you think anything was possible – or more accurately speaking his dick just made you dumb.

Now that it’s almost noon, you’re absolutely starting to regret the choice you’ve made, especially when you’re sitting halfway through your second lecture for the day, simply feeling that load threatening to spill out from the cotton panel, onto your inner thighs and slowly ooze down your legs.

Multiple calls of your name put a halt to your thoughts. A hand waves across your face while your eyes focus and refocus as the silhouettes come into sight. Your friends, Mingyu and Minghao are both staring at you, confusion etched across their faces, anticipating an answer from a question one of them probably asked. But in all honesty, you couldn’t recall the subject matter, nor did you give a shit about their issues because your main concern at this time is to get the hell out of there. “Oh, huh? Oh yes, sorry, yes, I’ll absolutely do that.”

A little laugh escapes from Mingyu’s lips while Minghao frowns. “I said.. What are you thinking about?” Mingyu asks, “You have a weird look on your face.”

“Are you not feeling well?” Minghao chimes in. “We can take n-“

“I’m fine, guys. Just a little tired,” You brush off, not wanting to go too deep into whatever you were currently feeling. It’s not that the guys weren’t close to you. In fact, they grew to be one of the closest ever since freshman year when all three of you showed up in the same pattern drafting class, wary looks on everybody’s faces in a new environment. Since the fashion department itself is small with only a few hundred students enrolled, it also meant that classes were taken with familiar faces, rarely is there a fashion student you haven’t seen before. Not to mention you were always being grouped in numerous projects and that’s how the three of you came to be. Both of them knew of your relationship with Jeonghan, of course, but there’s just some things that are better off left unsaid even if they are your best friends.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the both of them stealing glances at you every now and then. Even though they didn’t buy your excuse, Mingyu and Minghao knew better than not to bug you about it so throughout the whole three-hour lecture, you could just sense their concern emanating off their bodies. Adding on to your growing anxiety, making you more on edge, terrified that at any moment they would catch a glimpse of whatever dirty secret you were holding in – quite literally. Pulling out your phone, you quickly sent a text.

[12:03 PM]

you: I can’t take this anymore.

hannie: what’s wrong, princess?

You groaned, exasperation coating your breath. Was he playing dumb?

you: you know what I mean, han.

hannie: and what about it?

hannie: if I recall correctly, weren’t you the one who practically begged me to cum inside of you? Was just doing what you asked me to, princess :)

Scoffing in disbelief, you ignore his message, tossing the device straight into your bag, now furious at yourself for agreeing to it.

Stupid dick.

You weren’t even that horny this morning.

The cement walkways on campus greet the three of you as you step through the warm breeze. The sun shining through every leaf on the tall oak trees above you signal the firsts of many beautiful days now that summer is just around the corner. The bright weather is a big contrast to your dampening mood as your feet slowly drag along the blocks, leaving a gap between you and your friends while you try to keep up. You weren’t too keen on walking too fast right now. One wrong shift and you could be at risk of having Jeonghan’s gooey, semi-translucent, and not-so-warm release pooling down from underneath your mound. The two paid no attention to you though, they’re happily chatting about lunch options and the next possible location for studying afterwards. Not that you were going to join them anyways, not until you get the mess in between your legs situated.

“How about donkkaseu?” Mingyu turns around to ask, head whipping back mid-sentence to look at you, only to turn around and see that you’re already gone. His head turns left and right, trying to find you in the crowd of students, squinting his eyes for even a glimpse of your backpack but you’re nowhere to be seen.

“Where’d she go?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Minghao gives him a pointed look. “Jeonghan.” He says bluntly.

Jeonghan works downtown, a full hour away from your university. He was a busy man, well-equipped with knowledge and never failed to take pride in his work, no matter what it was. Your boyfriend was a well-wanted individual – not only with people who desperately wanted to be in his inner circle but also in his field of work with the numerous clients fighting for a slot in his schedule. Jeonghan has never-ending project proposals, spending most of his hours reviewing alterations and redevelopments on his building designs – a perfectionist, you often say or an obsession as others might call it. Knowing how serious his job was to him, you made sure not to meddle in with his profession, seeing how much it irritated him whenever he couldn’t concentrate, but this time was different – and you couldn’t hold yourself back from making the journey. You bow as you greet the secretary at the front desk. She takes one look up from her screen and already knows who you’re here for, immediately telling you of your boyfriend’s whereabouts while you nod back in thankfulness.

Pushing the heavy doors to Jeonghan’s office, the first thing you notice were his eyebrows deeply furrowed upon his face, a definite telltale to the attentiveness of the task in front of him. A few coworkers were surrounding him, each hovered over what seemed to be like another one of his drawing plans. At the click of the doorknob, Jeonghan’s head perked up when he saw you enter. A smile threatens to pull at his lips, but he bites them to prevent the joy from appearing. He’s been waiting for you all day. Having expected you to cave in earlier so he could have an excuse to take a long break. The current deal he was working on was getting to his head even though he’s gone over it a couple times already. He just needs a reset, a breather of some sort, … a release. Jeonghan fakes innocence however when he asks why you’re here. Simultaneously, his brain has already got his fingers wrapped around the string – pulling once, twice, three times, officially starting the internal mischievousness in him. A devious idea accelerating right before your very own eyes.

You furiously start making your way towards him, hair flying in all directions, nostrils flared in annoyance, your cheeks flamed red from built-up anger since the early morning you got to school, and the wrinkle between your eyebrows. You were a hot-tempered mess, you knew that but god, all he could think about was how beautiful you look. The way your eyes are rounded with the curvature of your nose bridge, adding on to the natural tint to your soft lips. Your lips that pout ever so slightly whenever you want something, your lips that taste like a mixture of yourself and that artificial strawberry-flavoured chapstick you apply every morning, your lips he so badly wants to feel against his own.

Your voice cuts through, interrupting his trance. “Excuse me, can I speak to you privately for one second?”

“Of course.” Jeonghan grins, dropping the pen as his hands start pushing his body up from the plush chair, quickly dismissing his staff with a wave of the hand. They take a hint as one by one, each of them starts leaving. He stands up, arms already going around your waist to pull you close, “Hi baby, how was your day?” He asks, head tilting as his hands are already reaching up to run his fingers through your hair.

You open your mouth to spew words, anger bubbling in letters as they boil up to the back of your throat but all of which dies down when the fire is turned off. Blocked off after the door is shut behind the last person when his demeanour takes a turn and switches a whole 180 degrees. His plan finally comes into action as his acting skills gear up. Licking his lips, his hands drop as he takes a step closer to you, hovering over your tiny figure. He’s finally got you where he wanted you in the first place. His eyes peer down from the lenses of his wired glasses, “Don’t you know better than not to interrupt me while I’m working?” He pauses. “What do you think my staff will think if you’re here for too long?” The back of his fingers gently trails down your face, almost feather-like as you try to press your face against his palm, leaning more into his touch.

“Guess you couldn’t keep it in, huh? I always knew you were a little slut.” Jeonghan tsked, “Was my cock not enough that you needed a second filling? It’s only been a few hours, darling.”

He starts walking back to his desk, hands going into his pockets as he leans against the edge. It shouldn’t have intimidated you, the way his eyes bore into yours but you gulped anyways, a feeling of excitement stirring in your lower abdomen as you clenched around nothing. You opened your mouth to retaliate, only for it to be shaped like what seems like a silent ‘o’. One of his eyebrows raise, a silent gesture for you to come.

Out of habit, your legs start moving obediently on their own until they reach the fronts of Jeonghan’s dress shoes. Tracing the outline of his long, toned legs hidden underneath the carob brown material of his trousers, you couldn’t help catching onto the small details of the garment. The modern leg-lines seamed in to elongate his legs, waistband wrapped around his torso showcasing his slim but strong build, the button with its holes as imaginary eyes and a crossed thread disguised as lips silently screaming ‘open me, open me!’.

He grabs your jaw, forcing you to tear your eyes away from his lower half to look at him. “I thought you came here to say something, but I can practically see the drool coming out of your pretty little mouth, staring at my cock.”

“I-“, He spins you around, positions changed now that you’re the one leaning against the desk. Jeonghan dives his head to capture your lips with his. You’re taken by surprise as a gasp escapes from your mouth while he takes that as a chance to deepen the kiss, his tongue slipping past your bottom lip; full of need and desire, desperate to let out his frustrations. All your effort is focused on keeping up, molding your mouths together. Your anger is now replaced with lust. His hands are moving down to grip your ass.

Your breath hitches when his lips start trailing down your jaw, gently nibbling the soft skin on your neck before travelling down the valley of your breasts. He doesn’t bother trying to take off your top, opting to unbutton the first few, just enough to expose your lacy bra. Slipping underneath one cup to carefully knead your honey soft skin before latching his mouth onto your nipple, sucking gently but firmly. You whine as he hoists you up and places you on the surface, his face never detaching from your soft and full chest as he quickly pulls your pants off, leaving you in just your soaked panties.

“Maybe it was a good idea to leave my cum in you,” Jeonghan’s fingers hook onto the waistband. He smirks before pulling them down completely, stopping mid-thigh. “Easier to prepare.”

A trail of your slick follows as his digits spread your pussy, using his middle finger to slowly drag up your wet slit. His other hand is gripping your thigh when he reaches down in between, scooping the leftover cum from the previous session and forcing it back into your pussy. You watch with wide eyes only to have them roll back completely when he finishes by stuffing them all the way into you, resulting in a loud moan.

“P-please”

Jeonghan chuckles, satisfied by your reaction. He had you beckoning at his every move yet you were sure the satisfaction still wasn’t enough for him, not just yet. He pulls his fingers out to strip himself of his own pants, popping his member out. The hand with the fingers that were just inside of you is now rubbing all over his cock, using the little beads of precum along with a bit of your slick to pump himself.

Jeonghan’s cock is pretty, like the boy himself. He’s not too big or too small but he knows his angles and he knows how to use them right. Every time the two of you get intimate, which is quite often, his thrusts are sharp, clean and reach to the most inner parts of you – something that leaves soreness inside of you for days. But that doesn’t seem to matter whenever the two of you are having hot and steamy sex five days out of the seven weekly.

“You better stay fucking quiet.”

One hand is gripping your waist for extra support while the other is slowly guiding his length into you. The growl in his voice sends another wave of arousal between your legs, the wetness starting to spill and gather down your thighs. His eyes diverted down to pay attention to the way his length was disappearing inside of you. Each stroke covering his manhood with even more of your juices.

“F-ffuck, baby.” He curses under his breath. “You’re still so tight.”

His voice was breathy, almost like a whine before he picks up his speed, splitting your folds with a sloppy rhythm, expecting to chase both your highs before his coworkers come barging back in. Although the thought of getting caught in such a compromising position arouses him, Jeonghan couldn’t risk letting anyone seeing you in your most vulnerable state. Not when you have all the right curves, exclusive only for his viewing.

At some point, his hands start pulling you into him to meet his every thrust, your tits bouncing as you start feeling the delicious new angle he’s ruining you from. The tip of his cock rubbing against your cervix with every stretch. The familiar feeling of tension starts to build as your eyes squeeze tighter, your orgasm is approaching faster and faster. You’ve never wanted to scream his name out loud so badly when he slams once, no, twice into you, releasing the coil sending intensifying waves of pleasure throughout your whole body. Your tight heat clenching and unclenching around him causing Jeonghan to groan, “Shit.”

“Cum in me.” You insisted weakly. He gives in as he presses himself balls deep, cock twitching as he unloads inside of you, cum shooting in spurts coating your walls in white. The groan emerging from the back of his throat muffled as he quickly smashes his lips onto yours to conceal it. Your muscles move on your own, hiding your own whimper as your lips move together in unison. His body slumps over yours while he rests his head against your shoulder, pressing a light kiss as a way to say thank you.

In the intimacy of the moment, your arms are thrown around his broad shoulders, subconsciously pulling him closer as the two of you try to catch your breaths. When he lifts his head up, his doll eyes are already staring into your glossy ones. A tender smile spreading across his face, pecking your lips one more time before he slowly pulls out. Straight away, the emptiness is evident as his warmth disappears, your hole gaping while he looks down to appreciate the work done on your ruined pussy.

You feel your panties being pulled back up, now snug on your hips as he lets go of the elastic waistband to hear it snap back on your skin.

“Guess you have two loads to keep in now.” A devilish look covering every inch of his handsome face.

“Jeonghan!” you lunged at him. He cackles maniacally, successfully dodging while you attempt to jump on his back. The blood in your veins starts boiling again, both hands reaching up to cover your face when you realize your mistake for the second time today.

Jeonghan’s dick really did make you dumb.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #yoon jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan smut #jeonghan imagine #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan imagines #yoon jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan #yoon jeonghan one shot #jeonghan one shots #svt jeonghan

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taechaos · 3 years

Text

Silent Treatment

from Textbook Love drabble series

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: drabble, smut, college au

synopsis: Why did you reject him? He’s consumed by his thoughts and theories of your behavior because you didn’t say a single word to him. If your actions were anything to go by, which apparently speak louder than words, you didn’t even want him to touch you.

warnings: slight angst, drugs, arguing, dubcon, cunnilingus, mild degredation

word count: 4.2k

tags: @mwitsmejk @1-in-abillion @kooookie

a/n: the request (contains some spoilers). i'm gonna take a very short break from this couple to write other requests!! hope u enjoy 💗

The shift in the Spring weather is unpredictable. One moment it’s chilly, and the other sunny. Humans can only adapt so much, and it causes an outbreak of common colds. Most people recover easily, handy medicine soothing their sore throats, syrups suppressing coughs, and nose sprays ridding the blockage. You, on the other hand, are not that lucky. With a weak immune system, you’re very careful to not get sick, but there must have been a slip-up because you’ve somehow lost your voice after catching a cold.

You sniffle and cough, but you can’t speak. It’s advised to not exert your vocal cords in cases like these, and that is just so unfortunate for you. The last thing you’d ever want to do is spread your sickness to Jungkook, and that meant not getting too close to him; it meant no kissing.

A very large white placard is spread out in front of you on the wooden table, and you’re plastering printed images of a specific global issue on it. You’re sitting on a bench with two of your friends as they chatter mindlessly while you work. Jungkook has a project about climate change due in a few days, and it’s supposed to be very important for his final grade. You’ve already written him a script for his presentation along with a stick prop to point at specific pictures. It’s fun, glittery and he’s going to love it.

“Hey,” Minnie, your friend, calls for you, “we’re going to get some coffee from Starbucks. Want us to get you green tea?”

Soyeon laughs when your eyes light up; it’s your favorite beverage, and it’s supposed to help with your sore throat. They leave with a smile after you give them a hyper nod and you’re alone as you adjust your woolen scarf around your neck. You need to heal as fast as you can so you’re no longer missing your beloved’s affection.

Jungkook has been feeling more inclined to approach you without reason lately, but that doesn’t mean it’s a common occurrence. Getting teased by his friend, specifically Taehyung, about having a sissy crush on a girl like yourself angered him to no end. A hit always got him to shut up, but not for long. He’s walking your way today because there’s no one around to judge him for talking to you.

You’re tearing a double-sided tape when he sits on your table, carefully avoiding your materials. Your breath hitches as his eyes gloss over your work in progress. “Working hard, I see,” he comments with disinterest. He doesn’t say anything about your efforts, but he’s impressed. The corner of his lip tugs upwards before he leans in for a kiss. You have enough self-control and concern for his well-being over your desires to lean back before your lips make contact. His face is close to yours as he pauses and slightly frowns before trying again. He receives the same results and finally pulls back.

“You did well,” he frowns at you and speaks as if you’re a child, “I’m praising you.” Your eyes are darting back and forth awkwardly and you don’t know what to do other than sit in silence. You put your hands on his knees as a resort and his frown deepens as he watches you. “I can take a hint, you know. You don’t have to fucking ignore me.” He roughly shoves your hands and stands up before storming off with a scoff. You’re torn between following him and being responsible over your belongings. You can’t let his grades go to waste because of a small misunderstanding, so you decide to text him instead. There’s always a possibility someone might steal his project. Or maybe after he’s cooled off? You delay the message, but somewhere in your heart, you’re satisfied by his reaction because it’s clear that he wanted to kiss you.

Heavy footsteps clomp against the sidewalk before Jungkook slumps on the seat next to Taehyung. It’s an isolated area for smoking students at the back of the campus, and his friend group is no exception to this role. They’re taking drags of cigarettes individually as Jungkook glares at his boots. They’re chunky and a bold black, and his dark outfit paints him as the big bad wolf. It fits, because he’s ready to attack when he’s filled with so much resentment. Why did you reject him? He’s consumed by his thoughts and theories of your behavior because you didn’t say a single word to him. If your actions were anything to go by, which apparently speak louder than words, you didn’t even want him to touch you. It doesn’t make sense, but you also grimaced at him, but then why were you doing his homework? He’s feeling frustrated, and upset all the same.

“Someone’s troubled,” Seokjin points out with a mouthful of smoke. “Kookie?”

Said boy only grunts in response.

“Did the lousy girl finally see you for who you really are and leave you?” Taehyung doesn’t hesitate to mock him with a pout. “Tragic.”

“Shut the fuck up, Tae,” Jungkook spits and sends him a death glare, fire flaming in his fierce eyes. “Go actually talk to a girl or something, and leave me alone. I can’t take your shit right now.”

The low blow doesn’t affect Taehyung in the slightest as he holds up his hands in defence with comically wide eyes. “Relax, tiger.”

“Moving on from Tae’s inability to talk to girls in broad daylight, what’s up with you Kook?” Namjoon butts in, earning a fake cough from the receiving end of the insult.

He pauses for a moment before babbling, “I hate those bitches. My mother for one, couldn’t stand wearing clothes whenever she saw a dude. Moving on from guy to guy, unless they’re a fucking asshole. What do they want? Why are they never fucking satisfied?!”

A moment of silence passes among the huddled friends before Yoongi breaks it with a joke, “Who’s the lucky girl?” It doesn’t land as Jungkook deeply sighs in response. “Did she cheat on you?” he tries again.

“No,” he murmurs.

“Then…?”

“She… I don’t fucking know, she gave me the silent treatment. She leaned away from me too,” he shakes his head with a quiet groan, “it just doesn’t add up. I got mad and left.”

“No way that could’ve ended up badly,” Taehyung chuckles but purses his lips when he’s sent another dirty look. “How long was the interaction anyway?”

“Like 30 seconds.”

“Are you coming out tonight?” Yoongi asks and puts out the burning tip of his stick. “Could help you feel better.”

“And we’ve got molly,” Namjoon adds.

“Yeah, fine, whatever.”

Alcohol’s effect on a person differs in moods, and Jungkook is usually a horny drunk. Being a sad drunk is a first for him tonight, but he’s just so confused. It made his heart drop when you outwardly refused his advances and anxiety blossomed in his chest, which he has no idea how to deal with. It kicked in fight or flight instincts, and he just… hated the idea of you not loving him, even if it’s momentary. He can’t bear staying in a situation that makes him feel so insecure, and that feeling is supposed to be left in his childhood. You just about brought out the worst in him without doing anything.

You didn’t do anything.

It’s 10PM and he’s waiting on your usual good night text that he never responds to. It’s so pathetic, and he hates himself for being so used to your affection that it worries him when he’s deprived of it. He’s never doubted your love for him, but his insecurities are churning his gut. It’s an overflow of all of his pent-up emotions, and he can’t handle it.

“Here,” Taehyung pops in out of nowhere, clutching a pill in his hand. There’s a bottle of water in the other as he holds them out for Jungkook to take. “Stop moping and get laid.”

“I’d say the same to you, but you’d probably start crying during sex,” he mumbles and uncaps the bottle before throwing in the pill and washing it down with the water. “Thanks.”

“See that girl over there?” he ignores him and steps behind his miserable friend to point at the owner of the sultry gaze directed at Jungkook from the bar. “She wants to fuck you. Or maybe me, but I’m passing her onto you.”

“How kind of you,” he sarcastically replies.

“Uh-uh, so you’re gonna be in ecstasy in about 10 minutes. Don’t fuck this up.” He slaps his shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen. It’s a lonesome party because not a lot of people are allowed in when drugs are involved. Causing a ruckus, receiving a noise complaint and then getting arrested is out of the question.

He isn’t interested in sex with a stranger - not today at least -, but he hopes for it to change as he waits to approach her. Maybe drugs will rile him up enough to have fun with someone else and rid his mind of you. It’s an annoying itch on his brain, so he rests his head against the couch to comfort himself with the soft fabric. He’s sleepy from the beer he drank earlier, and he doesn’t know how time goes by so fast when he closes his eyes.

A few minutes must have passed, because he’s starting to feel dizzy in his seat. A smile carves on his face as his mind grows slightly fogged, and he opens his eyes to find the girl quietly chatting with a friend. When she glances at him, he beckons her to come over. She mouths a “be right back” to her friend before strutting in his direction.

“Hey,” she smiles down at him before sitting on the couch. She’s aristocratic, chic and pretty. “Sorry if I weirded you out earlier.” Her voice is sweet like honey, and her words flow out of her tongue so naturally. A dream girl, really, and Jungkook is starting to get horny.

“I don’t mind,” he reassures with a subtle seductive tone, “what’s a girl like you doing with this crowd? You look too innocent.” He wraps a finger around a strand of her hair and twirls it. It feels strange.

“My friend sent me here, told me to watch over someone,” she lowly speaks. “I’m Soyeon.”

“Nice to meet you, Soyeon,” he breathes before crashing her lips with his. His hand reaches down to grip her thigh, tongue poking out to swipe the sticky gloss. It’s flavored, and it tastes of strawberry. When she kisses him back so slowly, innocently, it turns him on so much. His pants feel tight around his crotch as he runs another hand through her soft hair. Compared to him, she’s passionate whereas he’s sloppy. He’s starting to get dizzier, and it feels so fucking good, but he hates it.

There is not a single reason for him to not enjoy this, not when his mood is lifting so high. The hand on her thigh lands on her cleavage instead and she’s so submissive and shy, but something’s off. He groans into her mouth before biting her lip, ripping a whine out of her. Why does she sound so sexy and annoying?

He pulls away from her before sighing in irritation. “Fuck, I can’t do this.”

“Did I do something wrong?” she asks worriedly.

“No, just, fuck.” He starts laughing before rubbing his palms on his eyes, “I really want to fuck, but I just can’t.”

“We can just chat,” she softly suggests. “What’s your name?”

“Jungkook.”

He removes his hands from his face when she goes silent. Her eyes are wide and she’s gaping at him… guiltily? “Crap,” she hisses quietly, “I was supposed to make sure you were okay. My roommate is like, super in love with you and asked me to come here.”

He says your name in a question, wondering if it’s you. When she nods, he asks for your dorm instantly.

“She’s in room 124… Why?”

When he stands up, there’s a sway in his posture but he recovers quickly. There’s an involuntary grin on his face as he thanks her ignorantly. He’s out of the villa in a rush, and he has the overwhelming urge to just run. The campus is a bit far away from the house, but he doesn’t care as his footfalls echo in the dark streets. He has so much energy to waste, and with his current stamina, he’s confident he’ll find you before dawn. It’s stupid but it’s fun, and he doesn’t care for catching his breath as the corner stores pass by him in a blur.

Throughout the two hours of his reckless jog, where he mixed up directions multiple times, his mind is starting to clear up little by little. He’s happy because of what Soyeon told him, and he feels relieved upon seeing the familiar college building. He’s not allowed in dorms at this time, but he’s done this too many times to get caught. Except he was drunk in those instances, and being on MDMA was different. Sneaking past security was tough because he couldn’t bring himself to tiptoe without making so much noise. When they glanced at him, he thought it to be the only choice to just run past them. He’s in the elevator by the time they catch on, and the numbers look wonky in his eyes but he presses the button for the right floor.

He’s shifting his weight repeatedly in an attempt to contain his excitement; he wants to see you so bad. The moment he hears the ding of the elevator, he’s running past the halls and stops upon seeing 124. He has to squint, but he knows this is your dorm.

You wake up with a silent gasp when there’s a pound on the door. You clutch your sheets in fear until someone starts to sing your name. “Jungkook?” you mouth to yourself. You stand up and look through the peephole and there’s a man on the other side who’s bouncing on his feet impatiently.

“Open up,” he sings loudly. You’re worried when you swing the door open and yank him inside so he doesn’t wake up any other students. You try to talk but only a wheeze comes out, so you switch on the light to see him instead. The brightness hurts your eyes as you close them for a few seconds. “Well, well, well, look who we have here…”

He starts to circle around you slowly and stumbles behind you. “Sending people to spy on me after rejecting me like that.” His words are slightly slurred and you turn around to face him with a pout. You point at your throat to give him a hint, but his eyes don’t waver from your pleading ones. “What are your intentions, huh?” he weakly pushes you, “Sending me mixed signals. Who- who do you think you are?”

You hold his hands and place them on your neck, trying to communicate with him by mouthing, “I’m sick,” but he only chuckles. He seems sickeningly joyous, but he’s not over his anger. “Still not going to talk to me? What did I even do?”

You deeply inhale from your nose because he’s not paying attention to you. You’re frustrated with yourself until he yells, “WHY WON’T YOU TALK TO ME?” The surge of serotonin, his state of euphoria is crashing down on him the more you ignore him. He had believed the drug would only make him happy, but it intensified his sadness and anxiety just as much when he saw you. It helped him forget you in a social circle, but you confused him so much after he was reassured for so long - coupled with your silence, he’s raging.

“Why are you ignoring me?! What did I do that was so bad that you can’t bear talking to me anymore? You told me you loved me, please,” he chokes and tries to swallow the lump in his throat. “I-I’ll make it up to you, I’m so sad right now. Just say something…”

You’re watching him in shock and a hint of fear from his fluctuating mood. You want to cry at how pitiful he looks, but instead you aim to grab a piece of paper from your bedside table. He misreads your actions and pushes you against the wall. “Stop this. Stop!” He has your arms pinned and he’s trying so hard to intimidate you so you give in. A dry sob leaves you because he's going mad, but then he has a sudden epiphany. “Maybe you’ll love me again if I fuck you hard enough and engrave it in your brain that you’re mine. Yes, yes!”

He starts unbuckling his belt and you immediately try to stop him; he’ll get sick! He shoves you again and pulls down his jeans before mashing his mouth against yours. All of your efforts have gone to waste when his tongue forces its way down your throat. There’s no point to denying him now, so you hesitantly kiss him back. You’re so guilty, and he’s so careless as he roughly pushes his hand down your white cotton shorts. You’re wearing a navy blue sweater to match so you don’t get cold in the night, but the shorts are meant to prevent a fever. What’s the point now, then? He hasn’t even read your texts that you only remembered to send before sleeping. He missed a whole paragraph of your explanation and confronted you so angrily.

“I’m going to fuck you all night,” he growls against your lips, “then you’ll remember how much you love me.” Your moans are quiet and hitched as he presses down on your clit through your panties. His other hand is on his cock as he strokes it eagerly, ready to get inside you. “I missed you so fucking much in one day,” he whispers in a croak. Hearing it makes you feel even warmer inside as you nudge his hand to urge him to enter you. “You missed me too, huh?” he takes notice of your neediness. “Shouldn’t have fucking brought it upon yourself then.”

He removes his hand from your shorts and taps your thighs before demanding, “Jump.” You bite your lip in consideration until he taps them harder and you quickly wrap your legs around his waist. Your shorts are relatively short, resembling loose boxers, so when your back is pressed against the wall he only pushes them and your underwear to the side before thrusting into you. A scream gets caught in your throat, and you forget all about your aches as he roughly fucks into you without caring for protection or lube. It stings only slightly, but the pleasure in feeling so full of him outweighs the pain.

Jungkook is moaning and groaning as he bruises your thighs in his hold. Your panting is all he can catch, and though the feeling of you is an amplified sensation because of the drug coursing in his system, he wants to hear you chant his name as well. “Still quiet?” he tuts and carries you to your narrow bed and you cling onto his shoulder while trying to catch your breath after the sudden attack. “Your cunt is throbbing though,” he says as he pulls out of you and drops you on the bed. He manhandles you by flipping you on your stomach and holds up your ass. He finally takes off your bottom clothing, but he’s slightly dizzy as he yanks them off your ankles. He spreads your thighs apart and you’re on your knees with your head against the mattress. “I wonder why that is,” he says before slapping your pussy, making you whimper quietly. “So wet, yet you don’t even make a sound. Some whore you are.” You purse your lips and muster a whine, but it’s interrupted when he pistons his cock inside you without warning. Your sounds are hoarse as he pounds into you from the back, hands kneading your ass to the shape of his hands. He gives it a spank as he moans loudly; the new position makes it feel so much more intense, and Jungkook loves it. His ears finally get to hear your pathetic mewls as he thrusts so deeply inside you that your vision blurs with tears and your eyes roll to the back of your skull. You feel like a doll that can’t speak or move, and he’s evidently enjoying it going by his rushed pace. You’re challenging him with your silence, and he loves proving himself.

All of a sudden however, he stops moving. You look behind you with a pout and he quirks a brow at you. You grit your teeth because you know he's waiting for you to tell him to continue, or rather daring you to do something. A sudden surge of confidence overcomes you and you gently slam your hips against his, fucking yourself on his cock with your eyes screwed shut.

“Yes, baby,” he strains, “show me that you're still my good girl.” At his encouragement, you meet his thrusts faster and you're seeing stars at how amazing it feels. You want to be his good girl so bad, and you arch your back to savour the pleasure. “Your pussy is mine, all mine,” he affirms to himself and stills your hips to turn you around without removing his length. His fingers are digging into your flesh and your tits bounce under the fabric as he rams into you restlessly. Your mouth is open in a silent scream and he can barely make out your pupils, the whites of your eyes stirring his climax at how attractive you look under the poor lighting. “I love you so fucking much,” he cries, “say it back, baby.”

You try to, but you can only dryly cough. “You fucking bitch,” he hisses at your defiance and pulls out of you to pump his length. He’s close to his release, and he pushes up your sweater to see your hard nipples that make him salivate. He crawls to slide his cock between the valley of your breasts and it hurts when he harshly pushes them together. “Stick out your tongue,” he commands in a whisper, and you do so while panting like a dog. Every time he thrusts upwards, the tip of his head grazes your tongue and leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. He’s massaging your tits as he stutters between whines, and eventually his load spurts out to land on your chest and cheek with a particularly loud groan. His cum surges down his shaft as he rides out his high with the last slow thrusts.

“Oh fuck,” he sighs airily and collapses next to you in the tiny space available. You clumsily turn on your side to give him more room and he pecks your swollen lips. He zips his pants back up and you’re still naked from the waist down. You’re staring at each other adoringly in the romantic, fragile atmosphere; another first.

“I love you,” you croak finally. It’s quieter than a whisper, and it makes you cringe at how hideous you sound; it’s painful as well.

His face lights up once he registers your words before noticing the tone. “What happened to your voice?”

“Sick.” You can’t bring yourself to say anything more as you snuggle into his side and he instinctively wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“Shit,” he murmurs, “why didn’t you tell me that sooner, idiot?”

You slap a hand on his front pocket where his phone is, and he hastily takes it out to see a bunch of notifications from you. “You sent it at night, you’re still the idiot.” You giggle and roll your eyes. “A promise is a promise, though,” he purrs before cupping your bare heat. “I did say I would fuck you all night.” You widen your eyes when his head lowers down to face your sopping wet cunt, and he slowly licks up a stripe over your soaked folds, making you shudder and grip his hair. He’s leaving kitty licks all over your sensitivity, the tip of his tongue lightly brushing against your clit every now and then. Your hips lift involuntarily, and he finally takes your clit in his mouth and sucks on it loudly. He slurps your arousal before spitting it back on your hood, and you can only squeak in response. Your hazed mind only tells you that you want more, and he doesn’t fail to provide.

Two fingers enter your clenching hole, and he’s scissoring your walls as he messily eats you out. The pleasure from earlier returns all too soon and you know you won’t be able to last long. His lids are hooded when you glance down at him and the way he’s looking at you makes it even harder to resist your orgasm. The knot in your stomach picks back up right before unraveling and your moan is raspy as you start twitching under his relentless mouth. He grows gentle and leaves kisses all over your vulva until your body falls limp on the sheets.

After another round of penetrative sex, the two of you fall asleep from exhaustion in your bed. It’s a first for the both of you, and Jungkook decides in his drunken mind that tonight won’t be the last. It feels so intimate when he cuddles you, and you won’t ever forget his love confession.

The next morning is not so pleasant however, as Jungkook wakes up with a loud sneeze and in his now nasal voice says, “God fucking damn it.”

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