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kazuharem · 4 years

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“Promises of Forever” ↠ Lucien x MC [SMUT]

AO3 Link: here

Pairing: Lucien x Female MC

Part I of the “Forgive and Forget” Series. This is “Forgive”

Part II: here

Warnings: Contains plots from chapter 13 and 16 -> basically the plot of Lucien’s Rainy Night Date

Description: Lucien’s POV from “Rainy Night Date” + lovemaking

Word Count: 10,660 (oops)

Genre: Angst, Smut

Summary: “When the daylight comes, I'll have to go. But tonight I'm gonna hold you so close"

Author’s Note: I started playing this game back in March, missed out on this karma, and is very bitter/frustrated by that fact. I don’t think I’ve ever fallen so hard for a 2D man, but here I am. I wrote this fic because there weren’t enough discussion about this date, which I think showcases Lucien’s true feelings. Especially when he gives the paper crane back to the MC. My horny ass just decided to throw some lovemaking into this scene. Ending is inspired by the lyrics of Maroon 5′s “Daylight.” Every line that I took from the actual date/plot will have * in front of it. I hope you guys enjoy it. ALSO LUCIEN DESERVES ALL THE HAPPINESS IN THE WORLD. I SAID MY PIECE.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Here I am staring at your perfection In my arms, so beautiful The sky is getting bright, the stars are burning out Somebody slow it down This is way too hard 'Cause I know, when the sun comes up I will leave, this is my last glance That will soon be memory

And when the daylight comes I'll have to go But tonight I'm gonna hold you so close 'Cause in the daylight we'll be on our own But tonight I need to hold you so close Ooh whoa, ooh whoa, ooh whoa Ooh whoa, ooh whoa, ooh whoa

I never wanted to stop Because I don't wanna start all over, start all over I was afraid of the dark But now it's all that I want, all that I want, all that I want

How did it come to this, Lucien asked himself as he pressed himself to the side of her building, watching as reporters rushed at her, like piranhas after the scent of blood.

*“Producer! What’s your answer on your program’s ex-consultant’s remarks at the press conference?” One shoved a mic into her face. Lucien winced, but held himself back from going to her rescue. His appearance would only make the situation worse.

*“We heard that you and Professor Lucien are not only co-workers, but also neighbors. Anything to share about him?” Another reporter jogged next to her.

“Yeah, aren’t you two neighbors? So you must be close!” The crowd clamored around her, and Lucien clenched his fists.

*“We heard that you two are inseparable. Could you please…” The reporter’s voice asked eagerly, and her eyes squeezed shut.

He watched as her lips pressed into thin, white lines. “I’m sorry, I’m just trying to get to work. Can you please stop asking me these questions?” She finally said softly, with an undercurrent of hurt, thinly veiled, but Lucien heard her all the same. The world seemed so dreary despite the colors, and Lucien knew it was because of her mood.

The poor security guards struggled, trying to clear a path for her so she can enter the building. Kiki and Anna appeared, extending a hand towards her, and pulled her to safety within the glass doors of her company. The world faded into shades of monochrome once more and it was then that Lucien exhaled a quiet sigh of relief.

How did it come to this indeed?

It was supposed to be a simple task, a mission he could’ve accomplished with a flick of a hand. It was supposed to be easy. She was incredibly innocent and quick to trust; all he had to do was show her a little bit of kindness. And yet, Lucien found himself bewitched by her, getting his eye sliced open to prove to Black Swan that he was still on their side. That had been nothing more than a mere inconvenience for him. And yet, when the grunts had attempted to capture her, he failed to accomplish that simple of a task and instead, had let her escape. Lucien recalled the look in her eyes as she bravely held the pen-the very one he had endearingly given to her-to her neck and crimson blood leaked from her neck. That look had destroyed him. Only she was capable of such a thing. If she asked for Lucien’s heart, Lucien would’ve willingly torn it out and present it to her on a silver platter. Except for the fact, Lucien’s lips flitted into a wry smirk, he had no heart. His heart had belonged to her the moment she showed him the true brilliance of the world, the indescribable colors that had changed and wreaked havoc on everything he once knew. And Lucien had willingly allowed her to do so. Black Swan may have saved his life, but this woman, this woman who had entered his life in an explosion of colors, this woman had saved his soul. And in that sense, she had saved his life as well.

Falling in love with her wasn’t supposed to be part of the plan. Those who knew him, knew him to be ruthless, emotionally detached, and ever-so-cold. But from the moment his world exploded into a vibrant myriad of colors, he was hooked. He had found himself wanting to see her every moment of the day, a message or call from her would allow a fond smile to spring up unbidden. Lucien remembered the poisonous jealousy he had felt when he attended one of her company dinners and her coworkers had asked her who was the most important person in her life. A little drunk and giving in to the green-eyed monster, he had confronted her only for her to tell him that it was him. The relief he had felt at that moment was ridiculous, like a tsunami of emotions flooding his entire system. He remembered gritting his teeth and clenching his fists at the sight of the officer who had shyly given her that ginkgo bracelet. He remembered the utter panic he felt when he found out she was in the hospital because of a stupid trick Black Swan had attempted to pull off and later, he remembered feeling the stifling frustration when the LFG CEO had barred anyone from seeing her. And Lucien remembered trying to focus on his research but hearing the idol singer’s bright voice float through the thin walls.

“Miss Chips! I brought the newest video game! Play with me!”

He had hoped she would refuse, but to his surprise, she had readily agreed. And he had tried so hard to ignore the sounds of happy entertainment before giving up and angrily leaving his apartment. That had been the moment he had realized that, that simple, oh-so-easy plan was not so easy after all.

How? How could it have happened this way?

When did he start feeling these irritating emotions that made his chest clench so painfully?

Was it when he took her to the New Light Library to help her with materials for the show and he had blurted out, *“Will you teach me how to love?”

Or was it when he had gifted her that gardenia and they had decided to take care of it together?

Or maybe it was when he had taken her to a firefly exhibition and she had defended the poor firefly struggling weakly to survive, saying that all life should be respected?

Was it when they went to the aquarium together and he had warned her, but she had refused?

Maybe it was when he had to go to Denmark, and she had followed him, getting sick in the process but had clung so desperately to him?

Was it because she had been the only one who had cared about him, about his birthday, and worried so excessively over his happiness?

Lucien had tried so hard to push her away, but every time she would come back, worrying when he got sick, calling when he didn’t respond to her messages. He had lived his entire life knowing only the cold shades of black and white. But with her, he was able to see the glorious pastels of a rainbow after a storm, the vibrant reds of the Canadian maple forest, the cerulean blue of the sea, the brilliant golden flashes of fireworks, and the warm orange flickering of the lotus lantern they had sent down the river together. She had been the one who had turned his birthday, which had been countless anniversaries that reminded him of the tragic events from his childhood, to something he actually wanted to look forward to every year.

He didn’t know the answers to these questions, but when Hades had tried to capture her for his foolish RESET plan on the day of his press conference, Lucien realized that for the first time in his life, he felt fear. Fear of losing her. Fear of her being in pain. Fear that someone saw the dazzling purity of hers and tried to use it for dark and polluted gains. For the first time in his life, Lucien had something to lose. Something so infinitely precious to him that it was more important than his own life. And yet, this woman had been hurt by his own hand.

Pain was not a foreign concept to Lucien. Being in Black Swan, it was readily available. He had utilized it upon his enemies, upon those who had cast doubt on him, and upon himself. But none of it could compare to the pain he had felt all those sleepless nights hearing the broken sobs of the woman he had hurt so deeply. For the first time, Lucien truly understood what a deadly weapon pain could be.

And now…

Lucien looked at the still clamoring crowd of reporters lurking around the entrance of her building and clenched his fists. Because of him, her life was upturned once more.

He had been keeping a close eye on her after he brought her from Hades’ dreamworld, fearing that Hades would discover the way out and go after her again. His hunches were right after discovering Hades’ minions lurking about her apartment community. He had disposed of them quietly, of course, but the reporters were a different story. Lucien knew she had been working late nights just to avoid the reporters.

Which was why Lucien was now sitting in his car, in the parking lot of her building, waiting for her to get off work.

Fool, a voice whispered inside his head, but he ignored it. He was currently the only one who could possibly protect her. As jealous as he had been with Gavin, Victor, and Kiro, he appreciated the fact that all three of them had protected her. But now, Gavin had gone somewhere, Victor’s whereabouts were unknown and couldn’t be reached, and he didn’t know what Helios was planning after abandoning his image as Kiro.

The dull gray lights suddenly morphed into a muted yellow and Lucien looked up. She had appeared at last.

He got out of the car silently and walked towards her. She checked her phone and let out an exhausted sigh, rotating her shoulders.

Show no emotion, Lucien reminded himself. He grabbed her arm and pushed her into his car before she even had a chance to react.

“AH!” She exclaimed in surprise, preparing herself to fight.

*“It’s me,” Lucien spoke softly to prevent her from struggling. She froze the moment she heard his voice and turned, wide-eyed, to look at him. Lucien forced himself to look straight ahead. “Fasten your seatbelt,” he commanded quietly, before starting the car.

She gritted her teeth, *“Why do I have to go with you? Where are you taking me?” She demanded.

Lucien clenched the steering wheel. Hearing her voice-albeit angry-reminded him that she was alive and breathing. And sitting next to him. *“To your place,” he answered her question passively, trying not to give light to the murky emotions that swirled within him.

She fell silent and he drove on. The way home never seemed so long, and the traffic lights were not helping, stopping them at every intersection. But Lucien was secretly glad; the longer he spent with her, the more content he felt. Even though she was still angry at him, Lucien cherished the time spent with her.

He could sense her eyes watching him, questions as clear as day on her face. When he couldn’t take the stare any longer, he met her gaze through the mirror. As if struck by a live wire, she immediately dropped her eyes. Lucien noticed how her fingers clenched white against the seatbelt and he gripped the steering wheel to prevent himself from doing something he shouldn’t (like grabbing her hand and smoothing out her tension). He hated himself for causing these reactions in her.

*“I came out to tell you not to go out for a while, unless you have to,” Lucien broke the silence quietly, his voice slightly hoarse. The reporters should stop bothering her after a few days.

Her eyes flitted to him in surprise, *“But I need to go to work! Don’t worry, I won’t tell the reporters anything,” she added hastily.

Silly girl, he mused silently, you misinterpret my intentions yet again.

*“Do you think I came all this way just because I was worried you might blab to the reporters?” Lucien asked aloud, pressing his lips together thinly.

She lowered her eyes, ashamed, and they fell in silence once more.

Nothing more than acquaintances, Lucien thought to himself bitterly. There used to never be awkward gaps of silence between them, but now silence permeated every possible space between them. She was only sitting next to him, but she felt oceans away. It was clear that she felt uncomfortable, with the way she was twisting her body away from him. And it was all his fault, Lucien supposed, getting stopped by a traffic light yet again. Her finding out who he was, however, was inevitable. And in that sense, Lucien thought that she should know earlier before she had completely given her heart to him. That way, she could still keep a bit of herself intact.

After stopping at the last traffic light before her apartment community, Lucien broke the silence once more, *“Anyway, don’t get caught up in any unnecessary danger,” he reminded her again.

*“You as well!” She piped up immediately and Lucien felt his heart clench.

Still worrying about me, my little fool. Worry about yourself first.

Instead, Lucien grated out a laugh, *“Who do you think can hurt me?

How ironic, Lucien sneered at himself, the only person who could ever hurt him was sitting right next to him.

They had finally reached the gate and Lucien rolled down his window so he could greet the security guard. *“Hello,” he said politely, smiling warmly.

The security guard’s eyes widened when he realized it was Lucien. *“Professor Lucien, worked late today? It’s been a while since I saw you!”

*“Yes,” Lucien replied evenly, “I’m dropping her off at home.”

*“Haha, you are still so close!” The security guard teased, and Lucien saw her look away hurriedly, fingers clenching on her seatbelt again. Lucien nodded, still smiling as he drove away. His smile faded when they had reached the entrance of her apartment building.

They had arrived at last. It was time to say goodbye once again.

Lucien reminded her again without looking at her, *“Keep in mind everything I have told you tonight.”

She huffed at him, *“I know what I’m doing,” and opened the door in her haste.

Lucien reached over and she stiffened immediately. She tried to push him away, but Lucien held her wrists.

*“Let go of me!” She glared fiercely at him and Lucien’s chest tightened in response.

*“Are you that afraid of me?” Lucien whispered. She stopped struggling at those words and stilled. It was then that he realized belatedly that he had said his thoughts aloud. Lucien looked away, unfastened her seatbelt, and leaned away from her when he was done. *“You forgot to unfasten your seatbelt,” he informed her quietly, internally struggling to keep his emotions down.

*“…Thanks,” she said grudgingly and got out of the car. She took only two steps and turned around.

*Lucien rolled down the car window slowly, “What is it? Did you forget something?”

*He couldn’t read her expression as she shook her head. “You, not me,” she exhaled and continued. “All those things you left in my apartment; I’ve packed them up. Wait here, I’ll bring them down.”

*“Are they heavy?” Lucien managed to ask. This entire scene was funny as if they were going through a breakup, but Lucien didn’t laugh, couldn’t laugh.

*“No. I can manage by myself,” she replied curtly, placing heavy emphasis on “by myself.”

Lucien pressed his lips together and watched as she walked away, away from him, just like she did the day she found out who he really was. And then again on the day of the press conference.

Did my little butterfly already fly away?

He had no time to linger on his thoughts, however, as he soon noticed two men in black seemingly appear from darkness and look up in the direction of her balcony. He cursed under his breath. Hades. They were probably there to observe her movements and report them to Hades. He shouldn’t be seen by them, otherwise Black Swan will know of his betrayal. And she must not come out at this moment. Scowling, Lucien pulled out his phone.

*<Rest early. Just mail it to this address.>

After sending the message, he started his car and took note of how there were two additional men in black tactical gear near the entrance of her apartment. Hmm STF, he thought to himself. Interesting. He drove off, circling behind another apartment complex as to not draw attention to himself. It was late, she should rest anyway, given how exhausted she had looked when Lucien had picked her up. And she seemed to be well protected for now. He knew Hades’ men wouldn’t try anything with STF agents around. For now, it was safer for her that he left. And he needed to figure out how to deal with Hades.

Two days later, a package arrived for him, but he had no time to open it due to all the work he had. He sent her a simple, “Thanks,” but he had gotten no response from her. Lucien had checked up on her occasionally; but after a few days, as he had guessed, the reporters stopped bothering her as the city slowly dissolved into mild panic over how the virus had developed. His worry about her safety decreased when he had noticed that she had STF agents following her, but that didn’t extinguish the longing inside of his heart.

The days slowly morphed into weeks and Lucien had been quite busy. Hades had not made things easy for him, but Lucien didn’t mind the workload. Every step he made in his progress was a step towards her happiness, her safety.

After working straight for twelve hours, he stood up and stretched. On his way to the kitchen, he accidentally kicked the box she had sent up. He looked at the box for a moment before making the decision to open it. He peeled the tape that bound the box shut and the box revealed its contents. With growing despair, Lucien glanced at the variety of books and movies that he had lent the girl. Each title brought a special memory. The last things in the box were paper cranes strung up in long lines, cushioning the books and DVDs. He touched the cranes tenderly, smiling as he recalled the day she had taught him how to fold these cranes. He had pretended to be bad at the task, causing her to huff at him.

*"Seriously, are you pretending not to know how?” The girl frowned at him as she watched his fingers fumble with the piece of paper.

*"No one has ever taught me this before,” Lucien admitted sheepishly.

She straightened her shoulders proudly, *"Well, better late than never! This teacher has full confidence in your talent!”

Lucien smiled at her confidence. *"In that case, I will await your instructions.”

Under her careful tutelage, they had made many paper cranes that afternoon. *Lucien fondly unfolded each of the cranes carefully, remembering that she had written a wish inside one of the paper cranes. She had whispered it while writing it down and he had overheard it, pretending he didn’t.

It was a wish about them.

*Does that wish mean nothing to her anymore?

Lucien sighed and refolded the cranes. Perhaps he should be thinking like her, letting the past dwell in the past, he mused sadly. But despite his thoughts, he found himself hanging the strings of cranes up.

*The light outside the window shone down upon the cranes and the raindrops outlined the gray and dusty memory. The pouring rain couldn’t wet these cranes, but somehow, one of them had faint blots on its wing. He reached out and gently held it in his hands. It was the crane in which she had written her wish. Lucien swallowed, trying to keep the choking emotions from surfacing.

*“I wish Lucien and I forever…”

The rest of her wish was blurred by tearstains. But Lucien knew the rest. It was the same as his. Every single time she made a wish-be it on the candles of his birthday cake, or the glowing lantern, or this simple crane-all her wishes had aligned with those of Lucien’s.

Lucien caressed the crane, *when he suddenly saw a dazzling figure in a cream-colored dress in the midst of the gray rain. His eyes widened. She had appeared like a mirage, the manifestation of his thoughts and longings.

*Lucien frowned, Silly…How did you end up here?

Without a second thought, he *grabbed an umbrella by the door and hurried out into the pouring rain. The clattering rain drowned his accelerating heartbeat.

*Lub-dub, lub-dub...

So engrossed was she in her task, that she didn’t see Lucien approaching her. He held the umbrella over her, and she looked up in surprise.

*“Why have you come looking for me?” Lucien tried hard to quash the happiness in his voice. She didn’t respond and continued to stare wide-eyed at him. Lucien spoke up again, *“Why didn’t you call ahead?”

*“I…” her eyes skipped from his, *“I just want to return something, then I’ll be on my way,” she mumbled.

“What is it?” Lucien asked as he reached out to her to pull her closer under the umbrella. She shrank back, but slipped. Before he could even form thoughts, Lucien’s body reacted. He hurriedly grabbed her before she could fall and wrapped his arms around her. A sigh left his mouth that was lost in the rain as he felt her familiar warmth and smelled her comforting scent. She was safe.

In her panic, she tried to push him away, but Lucien gently took her wrists. They walked silently with the rain beating down on them. Lucien could feel her gaze on him once again. She raised her hand only to drop it back to her side. Lucien cast a glance at her, *“What is it?”

*“You’re getting wet from the rain,” she murmured as a dusty-rose colored her cheeks.

Lucien chuckled, and couldn’t help teasing her, *“Someone else also got soaked.”

Her cheeks reddened further as she looked down at her feet. She seemed to be at an internal struggle with the way she kept gripping her purse. Her eyes kept scanning around, as if looking for an exit route.

Lucien pretended not to notice and led her gently to his front door. *“Didn’t you have something to return to me? You’re leaving already? Come in,” he invited.

Stay a little longer. Please, Lucien pleaded silently.

She hesitantly walked through the door and ruffled through her purse. *“I’ll just leave this here,” she said softly, producing a DVD and setting it gently on the counter.

Lucien glanced at the title and his heart clenched. It was a film he had recommended her, and she had promised to give him a film review.

*“Wait a moment,” he managed to say, stopping her before she could leave him again. Lucien picked the disc up and came closer to her, caging her between him and the door. He kept trying to find reasons to stay with her a bit longer, just like he had done so at the end of the press conference. But this time, Lucien decided to let himself be a bit selfish. *“You still owe me something, right?”

*“Wh-what?” She stammered nervously. He saw through her purpose. She had obviously wanted to deliver the disc and leave as fast as possible.

*“A movie review,” Lucien answered, holding the disc up.

*She lowered her head guiltily, but Lucien lifted her chin, searching her eyes.

*“Or does our big-time producer not even have time to watch a movie anymore?” he asked. She didn’t answer, but he saw through her anyway. Lucien’s lips curved into a tiny smile. “This is a good piece of work,” he coaxed gently.

*“But I don’t want to take it back anymore…” she mumbled, biting her lips. Lucien saw her scan the living room and her eyes landed on the paper cranes. A wave of sadness swept across her face and she closed her eyes.

*“You can finish watching it here,” Lucien offered.

*“ …I’m running late for the last subway,” she refuted weakly.

Lucien almost laughed, “I’ll bring you home when it’s over.” He knew she wanted to end everything between them, but couldn’t bring herself to do so. Lucien decided to be the bad guy once again to save her the trouble. *“Or, do you want to keep owing me this movie review?” It was easier for him to do the dirty work.

With no room left to argue, she nodded resignedly and Lucien’s heart soared triumphantly.

He handed her a towel for her to dry off and went to set up the movie. She sat down stiffly on the couch and Lucien sat by the window.

What are you doing? Lucien chided himself as he watched raindrops glide down the window. He could feel her eyes on him again. Breaking his gaze away from the window, he turned to look at her. *“It’s starting,” he reminded her gently when the opening credits ended. She hastily turned her attention toward the screen.

Lucien watched her. He had chosen this specific piece because it served as another warning: he was not who he said he was. Throughout all their time spent together, Lucien had given her countless warnings only for her to dismiss them and run back into Lucien’s arms. And if Lucien was being honest, he didn’t want to let her go either. The longer he spent with her, the further the line between Lucien and Ares blurred, until Lucien didn’t really know who he was either. But now, he had one purpose. To keep her safe. It didn’t matter if he was Lucien or Ares. Around her, he was simply a man wanting to protect the person most important to him.

After a while, she turned to look at him again and their eyes met. Flashes of sadness, surprise, and longing ran across her eyes. Silence filled the air, but it wasn’t uncomfortable or stifling like it had been last time.

Lucien paused the film. *“Is the movie not good?” He asked softly after a while, not wanting to break the pregnant pause.

She shook her head silently. Before she could answer, however, she sneezed suddenly.

*Lucien sighed and got up, bringing her tissues. He shrugged out of his coat to cover her small shoulders. “How do you still take such poor care of yourself…?” The words left his mouth, exasperated. Embarrassed, she shuffled in her seat. Lucien brought her a cup of hot tea and she inhaled the fragrance. Her lips touched the back of his hand as he tried to cover the mouth of the mug. Electricity ran from where her lips had touched his hand and left tingles up his entire arm. “Always in such a rush…” he said fondly. “It’s still hot, wait a bit before drinking it.” He was unable to keep the affection out of his voice.

She stiffened and Lucien knew she heard the tenderness of his words. He berated himself. “Why are you being gentle to me again?” She whispered brokenly, squeezing her eyes shut.

There was no going back now.

*“A very interesting question,” Lucien finally responded, “But, before answering you, I also want to clear something up.” He moved slowly until he was sitting next to her on the couch. Ignoring how she curled into herself as he approached, he asked the question he wanted to know from the very beginning. “Each time I push you away, why do you keep coming back to me?” Lucien felt the tiny flutter of hope within his chest.

Could it be?

She didn’t answer, but Lucien dared himself to hope. And for the first time, he felt he wanted to bare his soul to her.

*He leaned in closer to her when suddenly the paper cranes broke from the ceiling and landed around them. Slowly, he found the crane that contained her precious wish and pushed it into her hands. “That’s my answer,” he said finally. He let her see him for who he truly was for the first time. He continued, “But the process of achieving this takes time and patience.”

And there it was. His heart and soul and all the feelings it contained for the woman in his arms were all laid out in front of her.

There was a small gasp before she dissolved into tears.

*“Liar… You said you didn’t see it,” she accused him tearfully, hand holding onto the crane.

Lucien pulled her gently into his lap as he enveloped her in his arms, his heart finally feeling full after a long while. She clung to him just as tightly, her arms encircling his neck. “Silly… *Do I need to peek to know what you’re thinking?” He whispered against her hair.

*He pressed his lips against her neck, a silent promise of his answer to her question. He wanted to be selfish for once.

She tugged at his tie, lifting his head and she leaned in. “Kiss me properly, Lucien,” her soft breath brushed against his lips.

Lucien acquiesced. Their lips met, soft like the fluttering of a butterfly’s wings. He tasted the salt of her tears, but the sweet nectar of her lips overpowered everything. Lucien was hopelessly and irrevocably addicted.

They broke apart slowly, breaths still mingling. *Lucien held up his hands, just like he had when he accompanied her on her quest to find the truth. *“This represents two choices,” he began softly, gazing into her eyes. “The right is to finish what you came here to do. To return the disc and leave, ending everything between us. The left is to pursue the path you want. To act upon these emotions between the two of us, but the path ahead is unknown. It could be dangerous. Even I don’t know what lies ahead.” He offered her a choice; whatever she decides, Lucien would be willing to go along with it.

*Without hesitation, she placed her hand in his left hand just like she had back then. She looked defiantly at him, eyes shining with confidence. “I choose this. I will not run away.”

*“And if this choice brings you harm and turns your life upside down? You’d still choose it?” Lucien repeated the words he had spoken to her long ago.

*“Yes, I most certainly do,” she answered, leaving no room for argument. A warmth in Lucien’s heart blossomed and swelled. This woman! She came into his life in a whirlwind of color and always acted differently from Lucien’s every expectations. Lucien had never met anyone like her, and he knew that he never will. She was the only one.

*Lucien laughed and closed his left hand, clasping their hands together tightly. “I understand your choice.”

For tonight, Lucien decided to let himself pretend that the woman in his arms belonged to him and only him. That there wasn’t anything or anyone against them. That she wasn’t in any danger. That there was no Black Swan, no plot to overturn the world, no viruses, no pain, and no fear. That they were the only ones in this world and the only thing that mattered. That they were simply a man and a woman in love. And Lucien decided it was time to put his thinking and all his worries on hold. It was time to finally give in to the emotions that had been slowly consuming him. For once, it was time to let his heart lead instead of his head.

He leaned in to taste her sweet lips again, licking at the seam. He was granted access as her fingers danced along his collar to pull him closer to her. “Lucien…” the sound of his name on her lips spurred him on, igniting a fire that blazed in his stomach. He traced the inside of her lip with his tongue and was rewarded with a soft moan.

Her fingers worked nimbly on his tie and deftly unbuttoned his shirt as he mapped the crevasses of her mouth with his tongue. She moved to straddle him and he ran his hands down her body until he reached her thighs, where he gripped them to wrap them around his waist. Cupping his chin, she pressed herself to him, lips moving desperately against his.

Just for tonight, Lucien promised himself as he reached up to her face, brushing her hair back softly, just for one night.

He ran his fingers through her hair as he assaulted her mouth, biting, sucking everywhere he could reach. She finished unbuttoning his shirt and slipped her hands inside. Lucien shuddered at her touch, her fingers tracing fire and leaving sparks across his chest. He pulled away to stare at her. “I think I’m at a disadvantage here,” he pretended to frown.

Her laughter was infectious as it rang through the air. “Then you should catch up,” she quipped, bright eyes sparkling with mirth, cheeks ablaze with pink. She looked so beautiful that Lucien had to literally bite down the urge to take, to claim.

“So I shall,” Lucien breathed, fingers playing with the hem of her blouse. Still staring at each other, she slowly raised her arms and Lucien tantalizingly dragged the fabric over her head.

Lucien’s breath caught. She was dressed in a white lace bra that cupped her breasts enchantingly. A pink flush crept up her body and Lucien’s gaze changed. She shyly averted her gaze when she noticed how dark Lucien’s pupils had become. Lucien reached for her, crashing his lips against hers. “Mm!” She gasped against his unrelenting mouth. Lucien picked her up and stood up, causing her to squeak out a surprised, “Lucien!”

“As much as I’d like to have you right here, I think I’d prefer to have you on my bed,” Lucien’s voice was low, hungry. “Also people might see and the idea of sharing you is not particularly appealing to me.” He walked purposefully towards his bedroom; her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. Despite his heated words, he took care to set her down gently on the bed, removing her skirt when he did so. He knelt on the bed to kiss her again, hands making quick work of her bra, and leaned back on his feet to look at her.

She swallowed hard when she met Lucien's heated gaze as he cupped her breasts. A small moan bubbled from her throat. Lucien watched, enraptured, as she closed her eyes and arched into his hands. His thumbs flicked over her nipples and he squeezed them gently, causing her to gasp softly. Beautiful. He was utterly captivated by this amazing woman in front of him. He bent down to suckle at her collarbone as he rolled her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, nipping her skin when he felt her nipples harden. He ran a hand down her stomach and teased a finger along the band of her panties, smiling against her neck when he heard a sharp intake of breath. Pressing a soft kiss against her neck, he let his lips travel upward and lightly nipped at her ear.

“Mm,” she leaned into him, “Lucien…” she sighed his name, setting his heart and body aflame.

“Yes…” Lucien whispered as he leaned down to devour her lips, “Keep calling me, I want to hear you.” He kissed her deeply as he cupped one of her breasts, his other hand pressing her closer to him. He sucked at her collarbone and a scarlet rose blossomed beautifully.

“Lucien…” she moaned, arching as she pushed herself into Lucien’s warm hand. The sweet sound sent fire coursing through Lucien’s veins.

“Yes, beautiful girl…Just like that…” Lucien sighed as her hands pulled his neck down in an attempt to be closer to him. She leaned back on her elbows to look up at him and Lucien gazed at the sight from the foot of the bed, awed. Half-naked, hair mussed, lips swollen, she was truly a sight to behold.

They stared at each other, heated gazes meeting, acutely aware of what was going to happen, what they were about to do.

She bit on her lip as he shed his shirt and made his way back to her. They met in a fiery kiss with Lucien nipping at her lower lip. She moaned in his mouth and he swallowed her sound. Her sweet noises of pleasure were for him and him alone. He moved down to her neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the heated skin and felt her swallow.

He nipped at her collarbone and kissed a path through the valley of her breasts. He kept his gaze on her as her breath hitched as he slowly moved his hands up her waist, making her moan breathily. “Beautiful,” he whispered, his breath sending a cool puff of air across the trail of saliva he had created and she shivered. She held her breath as Lucien descended on her breast, his violet eyes never leaving her face. Lucien took her nipple into his mouth, making her moan sweetly. He swirled his tongue around the nub, making a satisfied hum when it instantly hardened at the stimulation. He brought his hand up to tend to her other breast. She moaned lowly, arching her back, her hands landing in Lucien’s hair. He bit down and felt her fingers tighten in his hair, earning her a hiss of pleasure from Lucien. “Beautiful,” he proclaimed, letting go of her breast. He trailed his tongue down to her stomach, to her belly button and pressed another soft kiss there. Lucien traveled further down, making her breath hitch in her throat.

She swallowed hard, her breath quickly becoming short and staggered. She had never felt like this before. The way Lucien looked at her and touched her, worshipped her. He made her feel beautiful, made her feel like a goddess. He never had been one to be shy with his affections. But this. Even though she could never guess what Lucien was thinking, she felt his love through his touches, his kisses.

Lucien traced the band of her panties with his tongue. He kissed the apex where her thighs met through the lace material of her panties and felt her shudder. Smiling, he closed his teeth on the band and very slowly, gently, he tugged. “Lift yourself for me,” he breathed, sending puffs of warm air across her skin, which raised goosebumps instantly. He hooked a finger around her panties and she obliged, raising her hips so that Lucien could take the material off. Tantalizingly slow, he dragged her panties down her hips, down her thighs, down her calves, and finally over her feet. Kneeling between her legs, Lucien gazed up at her. “Beautiful,” he voiced, wonder lacing his word. Her breathing quickened as she noticed how hungry Lucien's gaze was. Slowly, he leaned down and pressed his lips to her knee, kissing a trail up to her thigh. He let his tongue trace over the skin of her inner thigh, his hand sliding up to do the same to her other leg. She trembled, needing his touch, she was so aroused. Tentatively, he kissed closer to her slick heat. Meeting her gaze, he slowly licked a stripe over the most sensitive part of her. He watched as she arched off the bed with a breathy moan, hands grasping at the bedsheets.

“Lucien…”

“Delicious,” Lucien murmured, his mouth on her, sending a wave of pleasant vibrations. He committed all of her actions and reactions to memory. Lucien loved the way she reacted to the simplest of touches. He loved the way she moaned his name, perfect lips parting in breathless pants. He loved the way she trembled. He loved every little sound that came out of her mouth. Wanting more, he lapped gently at her heat.

“Lucien-“ his name on her lips was a shaky moan.

Smiling, he let his tongue trace lazy circles around her sensitive nub, making her whimper with pleasure. He didn’t tear his eyes from her face as he sucked on her folds, tongue picking up her sweet juices. Her breathing was starting to become short pants and Lucien slid his tongue inside her. She keened at the sensation, fingers tightening around the bedsheets. Lucien started to pick up his speed, licking more roughly, sucking harder.

“Lucien…. oh…. ah…mmm….” she cried as her eyes closed at the sensations, head lolling back. Every sound she made sent fiery waves through Lucien’s veins. He increased his speed, tongue going further, harder. She was close, Lucien could feel it in the way her legs tightened, her toes curled, and the way she clutched at the sheets. “Lucien-please…” She pleaded, and Lucien doubled his efforts. Her moans were getting louder as his name left her lips in breathless pants.

“It’s alright, beautiful girl. You can release,” Lucien coaxed, pressing his tongue on that sensitive little bud. “Let go.”

With a choked moan, she came apart, back arching and her thighs tightened around his head, toes curled in pleasure. Lucien admired the way her stomach muscles contracted and her breasts bouncing slightly and quickly committed the sight to memory. He didn’t want to miss a single detail. She was breathtaking in her pleasure, pleasure that Lucien had given her, and Lucien didn’t think he had seen a more beautiful sight. Without any hesitation, he slid two fingers into her and put his mouth back on her, making her whimper. Allowing her absolutely no time to come down from her high, he began working his fingers and mouth. Fingers curling inside of her to find her sweet spot and he grinned in triumph as she mewled loudly, muscles involuntarily clenching around his fingers. “Please…” the cracked whimper sent fire straight through Lucien’s body and he growled softly, increasing his efforts to make her fall apart again. “Luci-Lucien…I Oh!” Indiscernible sounds made their way out of her parted lips.

"Come for me once again, butterfly," Lucien whispered, fixated on her as she threw her head back, mouth open with silent cries. "Come for me," he coaxed, fingers moving more urgently as he worked his tongue.

"Lucien-I... I'm...Oh... Lucien please!"

"Yes, come for me..." Lucien urged, followed by a soft nip of her sensitive bud as he curled his fingers inside her. With a shuddering moan, his woman fell apart beautifully once again as Lucien watched in rapture. The undulations of her body as she trembled before him from the full force of her orgasm. So tantalizing. So beautiful. Lucien didn't think he had ever been this aroused before. He pressed his mouth against her heat, tasting her tangy nectar as she shuddered around him. Withdrawing his fingers from her, he leaned back onto his knees, and while gazing down at his beautiful girl, he slowly ran his tongue over his slick fingers. She swallowed hard as a bright pink flush painted her cheeks when he popped his fingers into his mouth, sucking hard to clean them. She gazed back at him, chest heaving as her breasts bounced lightly from her exertion, looking like the prettiest picture of perfection. Lucien felt a sense of pride in his beautiful masterpiece.

"Lucien..." she struggled to catch her breath as she weakly sat up. He leaned down and pressed a heated kiss against her parted lips. She moaned into his mouth when she tasted herself on his tongue.

“I’m not done with you just yet, butterfly,” he whispered, catching her as she collapsed against him.

“Then you better take your pants off,” she demanded.Laughing breathlessly, Lucien leaned back to unbuckle his belt. Slowly, he unzipped his pants, eyes never leaving her face. Her hands joined his as they removed his pants and underwear together. He kicked the garments off the bed and kneeled between her legs. Slowly, Lucien palmed himself, still maintaining eye contact. He was already hard from pleasuring her and so he stroked himself roughly. “Like what you see?” Lucien’s voice was hoarse.

She eyed him, “Very much so,” And with saying that, she licked her lips.

Lucien chuckled but it died in his throat when she tentatively reached for him. He groaned when she wrapped her hands around him. She stroked him gently and Lucien swallowed thickly, throwing his head back with a low moan. Her touch was electrifying, carrying tingling sensations all over his body. Lucien whispered her name, hips gently bucking into her warm hand when he couldn't help himself. Another moan made his head tilt back once more as she caressed his tip with a soft thumb, spreading the leaking moisture all over. Lucien closed his eyes and began to lose himself in the sensations of her warm hand. He felt her lips on his throat and he shuddered when she bit down on the skin, sucking hard to make a red mark.

“Mine,” she breathed, tongue lapping against the mark.

“Yours,” Lucien replied, gazing at her with such tenderness that she felt like crying. He leaned forward and pressed her into the sheets gently, his hands coming up to frame her face as he rested his weight on his elbows. “I belong to no one else but you.”

“Lucien…” she whispered his name, tears springing to her eyes, “I love you…” Her confession was hushed, but her words pierced Lucien’s heart as well as his soul, shattering the walls he wrought up to keep out the world.

Instead of replying, Lucien kissed her fervently, putting all his emotions into the kiss. Silly girl, he mused silently, why would you love a person like me?

But that was just the kind of person she was. Doing the unexpected, the unconventional. She abided by no rules except her own. It was the thing Lucien admired most about her. And he had promised himself this one night...

And for this one night, he allowed himself to love this woman, the way she deserved to be loved.

Kissing her deeply, Lucien ran his hand down the length of her body, caressing every inch of her until he reached her dripping arousal. Dripping with need for him. And only him. That thought filled Lucien with wholly satisfaction. That he is the only one to see her, touch her, hear her, taste her like this. He slipped his fingers within her wet folds as she moaned into his mouth.

“Lucien…” she choked out his name in a breathy whine.

“What is it, butterfly? Tell me, what is it that you want?” Lucien’s voice was rough. He increased his speed and sucked at her neck.

“You…I want…you,” she moaned breathlessly as her thighs clamped around his hand.

Well, if it’s what she wants… Lucien thought he ought to deliver.

He slowly extricated his fingers from her, making her whine shamelessly at the loss of sensation. “Just a minute, butterfly,” he said hoarsely as he reached for the drawer.

Her arm came up to stop him. “No…” she panted, “I want…I need to feel you.”

The outburst made Lucien pause, his eyes widened in surprise.

She tugged at his arms, “Please, Lucien…I need you,” she implored. The way she looked at that moment should be illegal, Lucien thought to himself. Her hair was messy, her eyes were blazing with want. And Lucien would be the bad guy if he didn’t give her what she wanted.

He propped himself back onto his elbow and stroked himself urgently with his other hand. As he aligned herself at her entrance, he searched her eyes. “Are you sure?” His voice was strained, but he had to make sure she was absolutely sure about this, that it was her decision.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him to her. “Absolutely,” she breathed against his lips before pushing her hips to meet his. In a swift movement, Lucien entered her. For a moment, it felt like he was home. She moaned, arching to meet him as their lips crashed.

Lucien pulled back and thrust into her, trying to find the spot that had made her unravel so beautifully. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pushing him in deeper. Lucien growled, a low sound in his chest, as he adjusted his hips and was rewarded with the sweetest sound he had ever heard.

“Lucien!” She whimpered, rocking her hips to meet his thrusts, arms clenched tight around his neck.

“Keep calling me,” Lucien panted, speed increasing as their passion built. “I need to hear you.”

“Lucien…Lucien…” His name was a chant on her lips like it was the only thing she knew how to say. She was so tight and so perfect around Lucien as if made for him and him alone. Doubling his effort, Lucien pressed his thumb against her sensitive bud. “Lucien!” Her nails dug into his back and Lucien relished in the sweet pain, thrusting harder. He knew she was close with the way her thighs clamped around his waist and the way her walls tightened around him.

“Come for me,” Lucien commanded breathlessly, thrusting relentlessly into her, his thumb circling her nub. “Come for me, beautiful girl, I want to see you undone.”

One more thrust, and she exploded as waves of pleasure washed over. She tightened around Lucien and a choked gasp fell from his lips. Breathless and quivering with pleasure, she sank into the mattress, still clinging tightly to Lucien.

Lucien knew that in that moment, if the world ended right then and there, he wouldn’t have cared. He paused slightly to press his forehead against hers before continuing to thrust into her, his movements getting more urgent. She shakily cupped his face as she slotted her lips against his, silently urging him to chase his own pleasure. Lucien didn’t need any more heeding as his hips jerked frantically. His brows knit in concentration and his lips parted with effort. Lucien grunted as he felt her tightening around him once again.

“Lucien…Lucien…” she blabbered against his lips, entirely incomprehensible.

Lucien swallowed her every pant, every moan as he reached between her legs once more. He wanted to see her in the throes of passion as he came.

“I love you,” she panted, “I love you.”

It was those words that made Lucien utterly fall apart. He tensed as his hips stuttered to a stop, spilling heat within her. His body shuddered from pure bliss as he slumped into her arms, breathing harshly against her lips. Stars erupted behind his closed eyes, the most brilliant and vibrant flashes of gold danced in his vision. His actions coaxed another release for her as she climaxed around him. The feeling was indescribable, and Lucien thought that if he were to leave this world, he'd absolutely have no regrets.

Trembling, she fell back against the bed, pulling Lucien down with her. He took great care not to crush her and laid down on his side, his arms encircling her waist. Their pants mingling together until they weren't sure who was exhaling and who was inhaling. They gazed at each other, still breathless, still connected. He could hear both of their hearts beating in time, synchronized thudding to a beat that was unique to only them. Lucien had never felt more complete. He reached out to brush a strand of hair from her eyes.

“Lucien, I love you,” she breathed, staring deep into Lucien’s eyes.

He leaned in to kiss her, lips conveying the words of his heart, the words he was unable to speak out.

I love you too, my little butterfly.

Moments passed, the two of them were content to lay in each other’s arms. After a little while, Lucien gently extracted himself from her, prompting a soft whine. He pressed a finger against her lips, shushing her, “Let me clean you up. I’ll be right back,” he promised.

True to his word, he came back with a towel which he used to wipe her down carefully. She opened her arms invitingly when he was done, and he obediently fell back into her arms. Shifting slightly, he maneuvered them so that she was laying on his chest and he pulled the blankets around them.

“Are you tired?” He asked gently as he stroked her hair.

She shook her head, “Can we talk?” she asked shyly, voice muffled by his chest.

Lucien smiled, “About what?”

She shuffled so she was looking into his eyes. “I…want to know…about Black Swan,” she said hesitantly. “About how and why you joined. And…about Ares…”

Lucien simply nodded, unsurprised. He knew this conversation would come up sooner or later. “Are you sure you want to have this conversation now? It’s not exactly a happy story.”

“I want to know,” she bit her lip gently.

“Alright,” Lucien agreed without hesitation, “Where would you like to start?”

Her eyes widened in surprise, obviously not expecting Lucien to agree so easily. “How about…how you came to join Black Swan?”

Lucien’s lips pursed in thought, “Well, there’s not much to it,” he finally said. “A car accident happened when I was seven. It took away my parents and left me in critical condition. People from Black Swan found me, saved my life, and I’ve been with them ever since.”

She digested this information, “And…Ares?” she hesitantly said the name.

“Ares is the name I use within the organization,” Lucien told her gently, “I’m sure that you’ve noticed by now, that we prefer Greek god names.”

“But…” she dragged out the word slowly, “You seem like two different people when you’re…Ares and when you’re Lucien.”

Lucien sighed, “Ares is me. Lucien is also me. Ares and Lucien are one and the same.” There was a bitter tone in his voice.

She was silent for a few moments. “Maybe that’s true,” she murmured, “But I know you would never hurt me. And that includes Ares.” The last part was full of confidence.

Silly girl, Lucien sighed internally, “I did…certain things when I was Ares…Because of that, I have a certain image within Black Swan,” he started haltingly. She nodded like she understood. “I approached you as Ares pretending to be your version of the ‘Lucien’ that you know. I needed to get close to you so I could accomplish my mission. But…I failed.”

“How?” She asked him quietly.

Lucien chuckled, “What do you think? It’s all because of you, silly girl. I’m supposed to bring you to Black Swan, and I’ve had all these opportunities to do so. And yet, here you are.”

“Did you…get hurt?”

“Can you please worry about yourself for once?” Lucien tweaked her nose and sighed.

She wrinkled her nose, “I don’t need to worry about myself because I have you protecting me,” she smiled. “You said I’m an asset to you.”

“Are you always this trusting?” Lucien asked, exasperated.

*“You told me you would ensure my safety. And that you don’t engage in worthless endeavors. I thought that was because I am the Queen. But now like you said, I haven’t been taken to Black Swan, so what is it that you’re protecting me from? Why would you protect me from Black Swan when you’re a member of Black Swan?” She raised her chin, challenging him.

She had seen right through him. Lucien’s lips curved into a small smile.

His fingers traced gentle circles on her waist. “I think you already know the answer to that,” he murmured. “You should know…I never intended to lie to you, but my intentions were never good to begin with,” the last part of his sentence was a little quieter, as if Lucien were talking to himself.

“What changed?” She asked curiously.

Lucien heaved a self-deprecating sigh, “You,” he said, simple and straightforward. She looked at him, confused. Lucien cradled her face gently and smiled, “You did. You changed everything. You turned all of my plans inside out and my world upside down.”

Her brow furrowed, “Me? What do you mean?”

“You brought color into my world,” Lucien said simply, leaving her to wonder what he meant by those words. Before she could respond, he continued, “*You taught me all the beautiful things, like folding a paper crane. You showed me how beautiful a rainbow after a storm could be. *I used to not fear death, but I started fearing it only after I met you. And because of you, I want to live.”

Her eyes turned watery, “Lucien…”

“What?” he sighed, brushing his thumbs on her cheeks, “Why are you crying, silly girl? It’s all true.”

She sniffled, “I’m not crying,” she said hastily.

“Alright,” Lucien chuckled, pulling her closer and placing a chaste kiss on her lips. “You should sleep, it’s late.”

She pulled back to gaze into his eyes. “You’re going to hypnotize me, aren’t you?” Seeing his startled expression, she smiled wryly, “You were never this open with me before, something must be up.”

“Do you regret it? Your decision?” Lucien asked instead.

“Of course not,” she replied firmly, “I’m just glad that precious memories like these exist. And you can protect these precious and happy memories for us.”

“I know you made your choice,” Lucien started hesitantly but she shook her head at him.

“Lucien, I made my choice, but you must have your reasons. I’m choosing to believe that your reasons must have something to do with protecting me. And if it’s because of that, then I’ll allow you to do so. I respect your decision and your choices, just like you did with mine. And right now, I’m happy just to be able to be in your arms like this,” she gazed deeply into his violet eyes. “Being able to create these memories with you is enough for me. I shouldn’t be any more greedy and wish that I can cling onto these memories as well.”

Lucien’s breath caught in his throat. “Do you trust me?” His voice was low, full of unspoken emotion.

She nodded without hesitation. “I do. And I trust that you will come back to me.”

Lucien swallowed hard. “Then I will cherish and protect these beautiful memories,” he vowed hoarsely.

She beamed, and it was still the single-most bright and dazzling thing Lucien had ever seen. “Good.”

“Aren’t you afraid of me? And…the dark part of me?” Lucien finally voiced his worries.

“Lucien,” she smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck, “Just like you said, Ares is you. But it is only a part of you. Ares is not completely Lucien, nor is Lucien completely Ares. Everyone has a dark side, why should you be any different? I love and accept all of you, including Ares. I’m not afraid because of that. We may have different viewpoints and we might disagree with one another, but I’m not afraid of you. I was afraid, however, that all these memories we created together meant nothing to you. That they were all just part of the plan. I was afraid that your feelings weren't real. But now, I know how you truly feel about me and my fears couldn't be further from the truth. Your dark side is only a small part of you, but I love the whole you. As long as you’re Lucien or the part that is ‘Lucien’ exists, I will love you. And you already said earlier,” she touched the mark she had made earlier on his neck. “You’re mine.”

“Yours,” Lucien promised, voice thick with raw emotion. His heart swelled. He didn’t think he could love this woman any more than he already did, but she had proven him wrong. Again.

She smiled with satisfaction and leaned in, “I love you, Lucien,” she breathed across Lucien's lips, setting Lucien’s heart aflame.

He was going to do everything in his power to keep her safe. To return to her. So that the next time, they meet, they can love each other openly without fear. And that was a promise Lucien fully intended to keep.

“Wait for me,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against hers.

“I will,” she replied steadily.

There was a sigh of relief and Lucien tucked her under his chin, holding her close. “Sleep,” he commanded quietly, “It’s late.” He pressed his lips tenderly against her forehead, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into her back.

It was amazing how comfortable Lucien felt with her body against his, lying in his arms. He had not been this relaxed in a long time. She made him feel whole, as if she completed the missing part of his heart.

And maybe you are, Lucien thought to himself, smiling as he occasionally pressed kisses to her temple, the person at the end of my red string. My little butterfly.

When she had finally fallen asleep, Lucien looked at the slowly brightening sky. His heart tightened. He wanted to freeze this moment forever. The pink-tinged sky didn’t grant his request and instead brilliant hues of orange and red started spreading across the sky, as if taunting him. He didn’t have long before they had to part. Slowly, Lucien eased away from the sleeping girl. He put on the clothes strewn around his room and tenderly dressed her, taking great care not to wake her. He caressed the light purple mark on her collarbone and smiled sadly. It was time. He picked up the girl gently. A bright white light flashed around the room.

They reappeared inside the girl’s apartment. Lucien carried the sleeping figure to her room and tucked her in. He then took out his phone and sent a message to her phone.

He leaned forward and brushed her bangs back softly to press a soft kiss against her forehead.

“I promise you,” he whispered, “I promise we’ll go fly a kite when spring comes. I promise to celebrate all my birthdays with you. I promise to ensure your safety. I promise I will always come back to you. I promise that we’ll be together. I promise that I belong to you, and to only you.” He repeated all the promises he made her. “Wait for me, butterfly.” He hooked their pinkies together and kissed their linked fingers softly. “I promise.”

He then placed a tender, final kiss against her lips and breathed out the words that had been hidden under his heart for so long. “I love you.”

Lucien stood up and walked to the door silently, before turning around to take one last look at her. She was sleeping soundly. The gentle sun of the early morning cast a soft pink over her, a beautiful but cruel reminder that told Lucien he was out of time. The night he had promised himself had come to an end and now it was morning. It was time for him to go.

He had set a glass of water, along with two painkillers on her bedside table. There was also a paper crane standing guard. It was the one with her wish.

*“I wish Lucien and I forever…”

Underneath her wish, Lucien had added a set of words. Another promise.

*“For every forever that you wished for, I’ll be there.”

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

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daesungfmd · 3 years

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30 days of character development : 1 - 6. headcanon / wc: 1322

day one / introduce your muse. hwang daesung is the lead vocalist & rapper of impulse; a 7-member boy group that debuted on january 16th, 2014. despite being labeled as a rapper, there’s only one song that daesung has significant rap lines in: king, which is a duet between himself and one of impulse’s other rappers. on a similar note, daesung is not officially part of the dance line, but gets (arguably) more than his fair share of center time. so, what does this mean for daesung? it means that he’s an idol who believes he could 100% be seen as a triple threat if gold star would promote him as such, but instead, he’s pushed for his voice and has to read comments saying “why’s he a rapper if he never even raps?” and “why’s the lead vocal in the center?” on the daily. </3

day two / talk about your muse’s childhood and when they decided they wanted to be an idol. daesung was born and raised in seoul, but to be more exact, it was in the neighborhood of samcheong. it’s a lovely place (as daesung himself will claim), but his childhood hardly reflected the color of his hometown. he initially had both parents, but after losing his father in 2008, he and his mother were left on their own. the loss greatly affected both daesung & his mother; ignoring the emotional impact, their financial situation was on a fast decline. you could argue that they couldn’t even afford for daesung to have big dreams ― that’s certainly what his mother tried to tell him, but he was a stubborn kid. the only “dream job” he ever had was becoming a rockstar, which is a dream that he never fully let go of. he stressed his mom out a lot during these years because instead of studying hard and aiming to go to a good university/get a good job, he spent most of his “study time” playing his guitar and/or trying to weasel his way into divebar shows. he ultimately became an idol trainee at age fifteen, but it wasn’t because he suddenly decided that he wanted to be an idol instead; he just didn’t realize what he was auditioning for, and who the hell was he to say “oops, nevermind” when he had a reality check? up until he debuted, he didn’t have any interest in being an idol. seven years in, he still doesn’t. he’s a rockstar in his heart and that’s what matters!!!

day three / talk about your muse’s audition. part of daesung’s ~charm~ is that he’s blindly optimistic. he has a lot of faith in himself, his talent & his abilities. by the time that he auditioned for gold star, he was more confident and hopeful than ever because he had already gone through hundreds of other companies and he’s the type to think that after lots of failure, you’re bound to succeed. in retrospect, perhaps the reason why so many companies turned him down was because they were looking for idols and he was a boy so clearly inspired by grunge and rock ‘n’ roll. regardless, by the time he reached gold star he had gone through enough auditions to realize what companies wanted to see in their auditionees, even had a dance memorized as well as he could with his lack of actual training in case they asked to see it. looking back on it, he wouldn’t give any advice to his former self except to do more research into what the auditions were for. he’s happy enough with where he’s at in life, but becoming an idol was never the end goal; he just went with the flow because he didn’t want to face pressure to do well in school. (ofc he realized that idols face pressure way worse than that every day but </3 mf realized too late)

day four / talk about your muse’s trainee years. daesung trained for eight months before being selected for who’s next?: origin story, having joined gold star in april of 2012. now... eight months is a decent enough amount of time, but keep in mind that he had no prior experience in idol music, nor did he even know much about idols; to put it simply, he felt (and was) underprepared. still, he figured that he wouldn’t be put in a team and thrown onto a survival show if the company didn’t have some kind of faith in him, so the show also made him more confident (even though his team lost)!!! he had another 10-ish months of training after the show ended, so if you ignore the three-month period of the survival show, he had a collective 18 months / 1 year and 6 months as a trainee. as for his training experience........ it was tough for daesung. he wasn’t as serious about becoming an idol as most of the other trainees were considering it wasn’t his “dream”, so he was more concerned about just making the experience fun and making friends than improving quickly (or even following the rules). he got scolded a lot, even at times when he hadn’t actually done anything to be scolded for because of course it was easy to assume that daesung was the culprit if something went wrong. a lot of other trainees at the time didn’t like his lack of professionalism/lack of care or the fact that he didn’t even really want to be an idol and was still taking up space. he struggled to make friends even with his grand efforts, so he felt really, really lonely more often than not. started to struggle with body image and general insecurities during this time as well which i won’t go into detail about here because that’s ~a story for another time~ but overall....... training was the loneliest part of this mf’s life. he tried to have fun and every now and then he did, but he really just wanted to go home most of the time.

day five / recall your muse’s debut. girls, girls, girls is the bane of daesung’s existence. even though he didn’t really want to be an idol, by the time he finally got the news that he was going to debut, he was excited!!! he hates routine, so at least he would be escaping the repetitive days, right? right? no. his excitement dulled once he listened to the demo for their debut song and disappeared completely when he tried to express his displeasure but was ignored. at the time, he was seventeen and i think we all know that 17 years olds have fragile egos. everything about girls x3 embarrassed him: the lyrics, the outfits, the choreography, the mv intro, the mv setting, the promotions. the first time he performed on stage ~should have~ been exciting, but daesung just wanted to hide. granted.... seven years have passed and he’s begrudgingly fond of girls x3 now. he won’t admit it, but he listens to it when he’s going through breakups and/or rejections for an extra little boost of confidence. but it’s humiliating if anyone else brings it up.

day six / talk about your muse in relation to concepts. daesung pulls off fun and/or high-energy concepts the best. his stage presence is a fickle thing — even this far into his career, he struggles to not look bored when performing mellow songs (or songs that he just doesn’t vibe with), but he shines when he’s having a good time. he has fun performing upbeat songs and it shows. to date, he’s gotten the best feedback during the eras of just right, lullaby & look, but has also gotten decent feedback during ~manly~ concepts like if you do and you calling my name. his ideal concept would have to be something dark, like mars’ older concepts, but he’s 99.9% sure that impulse will never go in that direction. something that doesn’t feel so out of reach but he knows he could pull off would be something like alien’s jealousy or charm’s clap — masculine like if you do and ycmn, but high-energy like look and lullaby. any time impulse has done songs that combine those aspects, it’s resulted in a huge headache because of unnecessary beat drops </3 please gold star let him have one (1) concept like this that doesn’t hurt to listen to, he’s begging </3

#𝐃𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆. headcanon.#i could ramble abt daesung forever probably

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calpalirwin · 4 years

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You’ll Always Have Me

Summary: Alyssa and Ashton have been best friends ever since Alyssa moved in across the street the summer before second grade. Together, they were tackling the stereotype that boys and girls can’t just be friends. That is, until they almost kissed right before their junior year of high school. Can their friendship survive the jealousy that stems from their newfound feelings? And what happens when they realize these “newfound feelings” really aren’t all that new?

And away, and away we go!

Chapter 5

~Ashton

March 2018~

I looked in the stands, searching for her. She was easy enough to spot her hat with the school logo throw on haphazardly and backwards- a staple of her effortless style that left me feeling out of breath- and her giant “Go Ash!” poster she always brought when she watched me play. She had been to every one of my games since we became friends nearly 10 years ago. Every year she carefully crafted a new poster, the “Y” fading out when I had deemed “Ashy” too childish.

“Aly!” I shouted, waving my hands over my head.

Her head turned towards the sound of my voice, a grin spreading across her face. Then, her entire body slammed into mine, giving me her famous rib crushing hug.

“Awesome game, Ash!” she told me, her usual response after any game, win or lose.

“Thanks,” I wheezed. “Now loosen up will ya?”

She immediately let go and took two steps back. “Sorry. Did Kayla come?”

I shook my head at the mention my girlfriend. The girlfriend I had just recently gotten with because if I spent another day watching Aly flirt with boys that weren't me, I was gonna lose my damn mind. Stupid almost kiss, I thought as I cursed my existence for at least the millionth time since July. “No, but I’m taking her out later,” I finally said.

“Oh…”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Aly…” I pressed. If things had been weird since summer, it was nothing compared to the weirdness of the past few weeks since I started dating Kayla. I’d been friends with Aly long enough to understand the female subtleties, and it was always fake smiles and fake laughs between those two. Which begged the question, was Aly jealous of Kayla, and if so, why? She had been the one who said no.

“It’s nothing. Honest. Kayla’s great.”

“Whatever. Don’t you have plans with Hood anyway?” We had an unspoken rule that we were always partners for anything in the classes we shared, and I was still bitter she had said yes to being his lab partner. Well, I was more bitter about how she had said yes: her giggle too high-pitched, her smile too wide.

“Aw, jealous?” she teased. Then, more seriously, “I don’t. Cal’s… well, he’s okay. But we’re not dating or anything.”

I suppressed an eye roll at the nickname. Cal? She was calling him “Cal”? Ugh… “You looked pretty cozy in Anatomy last week,” I pointed out, taking comfort by her assurance that they weren’t dating, because yes, I was jealous as all hell. Obviously.

“Ah, yes. Fluorescent lights and a dead frog. The makings of any good romance, truly.” She rolled her eyes. “Honestly, dude. You’re so dense.”

I rolled my eyes back at her. “He likes you, though. Which is a pretty big deal considering,” my voice trailed off, letting the sentence hang in the air between us.

“Yeah, he’s popular, and he’s interested in a dweeb like me. Good for him. Oh! Text Lu and Si. We haven’t had a decent band practice in a while.”

“Shit, yeah! Your place, half an hour?”

“Race ya!” she grinned before dashing off.

A half hour later, after I found my parents and went home to change, I crossed the street to Aly’s garage, where she was already playing her guitar. “Hey,” she shouted, “Lu and Si are on their way.”

“Cool,” I replied, sitting behind the drum kit and grabbing the drumsticks. I listened to what she was playing before joining in. Luke and Sierra were our singers, but Aly and I had fun trying to sing both their lyrics and our own backup vocals. By the time we finished the song, Luke and Sierra had shown up.

We had worked through our small set of cover songs when Aly’s brother came through the garage, immediately covering his ears. “I missed the peace and quiet!” he sneered.

“You only miss it because our awesomeness reminds you you’re an untalented fuck bucket,” she taunted back in traditional Clifford sibling style.

He flipped her off before he got in his truck and drove off.

Mike’s entrance and following exit caused a pause long enough for me to feel my phone ringing in my pocket. “Quick break,” I called out, digging my phone out of my pocket and answering it. “Hey, babe!”

“Ashton! I’ve been texting you like crazy! Where are you?”

I pulled my phone away to check it. 20 text messages. Oops. “Sorry, babe. I’m at Aly’s.”

“Oh.” It was the same “Oh,” Aly had used when I mentioned going out with Kayla earlier. Girls...

“Sorry,” I said again, not sure what else to say. “You could come over if you want.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I’ll be right over.”

“Cool, see you in a bit.” I ended the call and put my phone back in my pocket.

“I’m gonna get us some water,” Aly said, quickly sliding her guitar strap over her head and setting it aside, before heading for the door.

“I’m gonna help,” Sierra said, following Aly inside.

With the girls gone, Luke turned to me. “Dude…”

“What?”

“You’re still dating Kayla?”

“Yeah…?”

“I thought you like Lyssa?

“I do.”

“So, why are you dating Kayla?!”

“Aly doesn’t like me that way. We’re just friends.”

“How do you know she doesn’t like you that way if you don’t ask her out? Have you guys talked about… y’know?”

I had told him about the almost kiss right after it didn’t happen, along with confessing my feelings for Aly. “No…”

“So, why not talk about it and see what happens?”

“It’s not a risk I’m willing to take, okay? I barely realized I liked her that way until this summer. What do I do? ‘Hey, I know we’ve been friends forever, but I didn’t realize you’d get hot, wanna go out sometime?’”

“True… But, wouldn’t you rather her get with someone who was her friend before puberty hit her like a semi over someone who only likes her because of how she looks now?”

“I don’t want anyone with her. That includes me. Aly and I have been through a lot, but this… this is different. If I’m gonna ruin relationships with girls I have crushes on, I’d rather that girl not be Aly.”

“So, you want to grow up first?”

“I guess. I dunno. It doesn’t matter anyway. Aly probably doesn’t see me that way, and I’m with Kay. Case closed.”

“Whatever you say, man.”

#you'll always have me #chapter 5 #ashton irwin #5SOS #galcal irwin

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heryellowcup · 6 years

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@ladygaybeale asked: Bechloe AU where Beca meets Chloe in LA, Beca’s reading a book on the beach with her headphones on and Chloe’s playing beach volleyball. The ball accidentally smacks into Beca, knocking her book out of her hands. Inspired by Vance Joy’s song Saturday Sun, Beca gets inspired to write a song and after being begged by Chloe, she meets up with the redhead a few times over the span of a week or so. Chloe gets Beca to go to a BBQ on the beach where - whilst everyone else is drunk- Beca surprises Chloe by leading her along the beach to a spot that’s quieter where she plays the song on a ukulele for her.

thanks dude, really hope you’re gonna like this! i didn’t even know this song before, but it’s been stuck in my head all day and it’s totally your fault @ladygaybeale

This is exactly what Beca had needed. Two weeks away from her family, away from her friends and being able to enjoy some alone time, away from everything she knew. Which is how she found herself in LA, where she was currently laying on the beach, reading her favorite book and listening to her favorite music through her headphones. And this was all she was going to do for the next two weeks. Read, enjoy the sun, the ocean, listen to music and make some herself. She didn’t dare bring her laptop to the sandy beach, but she was constantly making up lyrics and composing music in her head.

It was perfect, really, until a ball suddenly hit her square in the face and in the same motion knocked her book out of her hands. She let out a surprised groan and pulled her headphones off of her head, glad that they survived the incident just fine.

“What the hell, dude?” Beca snapped at the redheaded girl that was now standing over her, an apologetic look on her face.

“Oops, I’m sorry!!” the girl apologized but then actually had the decency to giggle when Beca kept glaring at her. It made her even more mad, realizing that the girl was pretty cute and that her blue bikini matched her beautiful eyes. Great. “Can I have my ball back?”

“Say please,” Beca grumbled and rolled her eyes when the other girl simply giggled again and stuck her tongue out at her.

“Can I pleaaase have my ball back? It won’t happen again!”

Beca sighed and threw the ball in her direction, a little surprised when she caught it with ease. The brunette was ready to put her headphones back on so she could go back to blissfully enjoying this beautiful day, but the redhead seemed to have other plans as she wasn’t making any effort to move. Beca was pretty sure that she even saw the girl’s eyes linger on her bikini covered chest for much longer than necessary and it actually made her blush a little.

“Any chance you’d like to join us?” The redhead pointed to some other people, mostly girls, who were playing beach volleyball just a few feet away from where Beca was currently sitting. “We’re actually missing a player.”

Beca thought about it for a few seconds, her eyes moving back and forth between the makeshift volleyball field, the redheaded girl in front of her and her favorite book. The decision was easy, really. She was here to relax, after all.

“No thanks.”

“Oh no?” The redhead raised her eyebrows, the rejection seemingly not getting to her and instead just making her want to try even harder. The girl loved a challenge, apparently.

“Nope. I have better things to do than make friends with the girl who just ruined my perfect day by throwing a ball into my face.” Beca deadpanned, making the other girl chuckle.

“The girl who just ruined your perfect day by throwing a ball into your face, huh? My name’s Chloe.”

Beca, again, rolled her eyes, though there was a little amused smirk tugging on the corners of her lips. She, too, loved a challenge. “Go back to your friends and leave me alone, girl whose name I totally didn’t need to know.”

All Chloe did was wink at Beca over her shoulder before she happily skipped back towards her friends. And yeah, Beca might have looked at her ass while that was happening. And maybe she also kept watching them pretty much all day, not really able to focus on her book anymore.

She had never been one to write songs about another person, because that was just disgustingly cheesy, right? But for some reason there had been a melody stuck in her head ever since this damn ball had made contact with her face and she soon had to leave the beach, go back to her little apartment she had rented, so she could write her ideas down before she’d forget them again.

She wasn’t surprised to see Chloe and her friends back on the beach when she went there the next day, trying to go back to enjoying the weather and her book, as well as some drinks she had brought.

And again, she kept glancing over at them while she was reading her book, though said activity was getting increasingly harder and she often had to read the same sentence more than just once before she’d understand it, because her eyes kept finding a certain redhead who usually wouldn’t have been her type at all. Something about her was oddly intriguing though.

She eventually gave up on the whole reading thing and simply lay down on her towel, closing her eyes and trying to nap a little.

Her bliss, once again, got interrupted when she suddenly heard a loud thump right next to her and she looked up just to see a very familiar face. Chloe, who was picking up her ball that had seemingly made her way over to Beca again.

“Oops, that was close!” she giggled and bit her lip innocently, but she wasn’t fooling anyone, especially not Beca.

“Yeah, and totally on purpose.”

“Maybe.” There was a cheeky grin on Chloe’s lips now and Beca couldn’t help but stare.

“You’re a pain in the ass already.” Yeah, acting cool was totally the right way to do this.

“That would imply you want me to stick around, huh?”

“Oh trust me, I have no doubt in mind that you will, no matter what I want.” Chloe’s tone had been flirtatious, but Beca was resisting the urge to flirt back, settling for rude-ish teasing instead which was kind of the same, really.

“You wanna join us today then? Still missing a player.”

“And why would I do that?”

“You’ve been watching us all of yesterday and today, I know you secretly want to play with us.” Chloe felt smart now, but Beca managed to get her off of her high horse with her next sentence, even flustering her a little.

“Who says that’s the reason I’ve been watching you?” Beca asked with a cheeky smirk on her lips.

“Damn, grumpy girl has a flirty side as well!” Chloe laughed, seemingly impressed, and Beca couldn’t help but laugh as well, the redhead’s laugh being very contagious. Or maybe she was just crushing on her already. Though she was trying not to think about that last possibility too often.

“Grumpy girl with a flirty side, huh? My name’s Beca.”

The grin on her lips was all it needed for Chloe to grab her hand and pull her towards her friends.

“You better be good, I don’t like losing.”

Beca was small, yes, but she was also super fast and surprisingly good at volleyball, which is why her, Chloe and the others in their team won three times in a row that day. And Chloe hugged her every single time. Usually Beca hated hugs, they made her feel uncomfortable. And a hot redhead hugging her in only a bikini made her feel kind of the same way, just in a completely different way. One that made her blush whenever the girl simply touched her.

And she had tried to go back to sitting in the sun and reading her book the next few days, she really had. But every single time a certain redhead would “accidentally” throw a ball right into her direction and then beg the brunette to join them again. Only because Beca always made them win, of course. That was the only reason.

And while Beca didn’t want to say no, she also didn’t want to come off as easy, but Chloe’s big, blue puppy eyes made it impossible for her not to get up and join the other girls every single time.

“Oh god, I’m so glad Chloe’s into you! We’ve won every single game so far!” One of Chloe’s friends, Stacie, grinned at Beca after an especially great game, high fiving the tiny brunette happily. She still earned herself a playful slap from Chloe though.

“Stacie!” the redhead exclaimed angrily, but said girl simply grinned at her and pointed towards Beca.

“Don’t worry, she doesn’t seem to mind at all.”

And all Beca could do was wink at Chloe before she went to get some water.

That’s how most days went, actually. Beca going to the beach to enjoy some alone time in the sun, Chloe throwing a ball at her and then begging her with those big... eyes of hers to join them. Beca finally agreeing, them winning, the brunette eventually going back to her apartment to work on some songs. One in particular. One she had called ‘the Chloe song’ for now, which was really just a terrible title.

But this routine changed the following day when she saw Chloe excitedly skipping up to her without attacking her with a ball for once.

“You have to go to this party with us! Tomorrow!”

Beca raised her eyebrows with a grin.

“With all of you? Or are you asking me out on a date?”

“Fine, with me. You need to go there with me, I mean... will you?”

Beca grinned. Apparently bubbly and confident Chloe had a shy side as well. She liked that. It was much more fun to tease her that way. “Let’s make a deal. Different volleyball teams today, I’ll join you if you manage to beat me.”

“Deal.”

Needless to say, Beca totally let her win.

Parties weren’t really her thing. They had never been Beca’s thing. They just meant a lot of drunk people and a lot of drama. But a party at the beach did sound kind of great and it was a BBQ as well, which meant food. And she really couldn’t say no to food. It was the only reason she had actually showed up the following night. Not because of a certain redheaded girl that just would’t leave her mind and that she had actually written a song about. Totally not.

She was done telling this to herself when Chloe walked up to her, wearing a very tight and very short blue dress. Yeah, this had been the reason why she had showed up after all. There was no denying it.

“You made it!” Chloe laughed happily as she threw her arms around the smaller girl who happily hugged her back, though she suspected she’d need a little more alcohol to survive this night.

“I had to, remember? You kinda beat me,” she hummed nonchalantly and shrugged her shoulders before she made her way to the bar, followed closely by the redhead.

“Oh come on, we all know you let me win, Bec. You wanted to come here...with me...” Chloe smirked teasingly, playing with the collar of Beca’s flannel shirt. And all the brunette did was shoot the girl another wink, neither confirming nor denying that the redhead’s suspicion was right. And Beca didn’t even have the chance to order a drink before Chloe pulled her towards the makeshift dance floor, because of course she would.

And that’s how Beca found herself dancing all night, the people around her getting more intoxicated by the second while all she and Chloe needed to have fun were each other.

“Should we go somewhere else for a while? I don’t think we’re drunk enough for the people here,” Chloe chuckled eventually and Beca nodded, a nod that quickly turned into a shake of her head as a thoughtful expression settled on her face. This was her chance. This was the perfect moment to do what she had wanted to do all week. Share her thoughts and feelings with the other girl.

“Just give me a second, okay?” She was already on her way, leaving a confused Chloe behind. “My apartment’s just a few minutes away, I’ll just grab something, yeah? I’ll be be right back!”

And, just like she had promised, Beca was back about ten minutes later, happy to find Chloe sitting on a rock a few feet away from the other people, from the party, waiting for her. And Beca’s heart almost burst out of her chest when Chloe visibly lightened up upon seeing her, a bright smile now on her beautiful lips.

“You ready?” Beca grinned at her and grabbed Chloe’s hand, who followed her without asking any questions. At first.

“You’re not going to murder me, are you?” The redhead joked eventually, when they could barely hear the loud music from the party anymore, the ocean drowning the noises out beautifully.

“Aww, you think I’m some kind of serial killer?” Beca chuckled and squeezed Chloe’s hand that she was still holding. Their smiles hadn’t left their lips all night and Beca didn’t think she remembered ever being this happy and feeling so at peace with everything.

“I mean, you even went back to your place to get... this...” Chloe mumbled, making Beca laugh loudly.

“It’s a ukulele. You really think I’m going to murder you with a ukulele?”

“You might!” Chloe exclaimed indignantly, not able to stop herself from laughing until Beca suddenly sat down on a rock and patted the space next to her, motioning for Chloe to do the same.

“Come on, this is the perfect place.”

“The perfect place to kill me?”

“Just shush and let me do this, okay?”

Beca took a deep breath and admired the view for a second. Admired this whole situation for a second. Because she had come here to be alone, to escape her normal life for a while, and now she was sitting here with the most beautiful girl she’d ever met right in front of the ocean and she was about to share something very intimate with her and really, this trip couldn’t have turned out any better.

Beca didn’t miss Chloe’s beautiful, surprised smile when she started to softly play the ukulele, but she was looking at the ocean, the redhead leaning against her, as she started to sing her song. Chloe’s song.

Oh, Saturday Sun I met someone Out on the West Coast I gotta get back, I can't let this go Oh, Saturday Sun I met someone Don't care what it costs No ray of sunlight's ever lost

So tired of sleepin' alone So tired of eatin' alone I need to ask her what's goin' on Are we goin' strong? She felt like resting her head My shoulder was the perfect height We fit so right, so what's goin' on? 'Cause I've been undone

The long drive, the coastline Lookin' out at first light Am I still on her mind? I've been undone

Oh, Saturday Sun I met someone Out on the West Coast I gotta get back, I can't let this go Oh, Saturday Sun I met someone Don't care what it costs No ray of sunlight's ever lost Ever lost And still the memory's right there She put the breeze in my hair No kiss was softer, softer than this I'm readin' her lips Each line I read She left her books in my bed And her song in my head I've been undone

“For how long are you going to be here?” It was the first thing Chloe got out after Beca had finished her song, after she’d just speechlessly stared at her for what had felt like several minutes. And well, after she had tightly wrapped her arms around the other girl.

“One more week.” There was a sad smile on Beca’s lips now, but Chloe kissed it away.

And Beca’s heart almost burst out of her chest when their lips met.

“We better make the most out of it then, huh?”

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charliebattinson · 6 years

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MOVIN IN | Moving in with Shawn [BP] | Shawn Mendes

A/N: Hi here’s another bullpoint thingy haha. I’m planning on two other bps! Chrismas! Shawn and Best Friend! Shawn. Tell me if you want me to make them! Hope you like this! Feedback is welcomed! Much love xx

Moving in with Shawn:

You guys have been dating for so long

You and shawn are just probably having a late night drive

He just asks “y/n do you want to move in together?”

You love the idea but you tease him about it “why would ya want to move in together?”

“So I don’t have to pay full rent and someone can do my laundry and cook for me”

“Dick”

You happily agree though

You guys move into a cute place thats just right for you two with a cute little balcony

Boxes everywhere

Painting rooms together

Painting each other

“Do you know hard it is to remove this shit?”

First night in is just talking the whole night, planning on what to do next with the place and just being super happy

You sleep on the floor because you haven’t fixed the bed yet

Christening the whole place

“We gotta really clean the kitchen area”

Getting to know the neighbors

First weeks are just lazy, living through boxes and take outs

Its getting frustrating because you’re both searching for what you need in every box

“Where the fuck is the kettle”

“Oi we’re really need to unpack these boxes”

You eventually got everything unpacked

Shawn sees the makeup in the bathroom and he’s so confused by them

“Babe why are there paint brushes in the bathroom?”

Showers together

Shawn doing a mohawk while in the shower

“Rub my back and i’ll rub yours”

Attempting shower sex but you both just end up slipping

Taking bathtubs together

Shawns always so eager to drop the bath bomb

“LEMME DO IT”

Furniture shopping

Heading out to ikea and playing house. Watch this for visuals: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ARoB1nWPsxo

Assembling furniture together

“Did you know assembling ikea furniture is the greatest test of all relationships?”

When you guys thought you actually assembled it perfectly then you realized you screwed the wrong legs on all sides“

“Fuck this. We’re done”

Shawn buys random cooking appliances

“Why’d you buy this? You don’t even know what its for”

“IT LOOKED COOL OKAY”

Plant shopping too

You guys forget to water the plants tho

“I thought it was a fake plant”

“Shit we’d make horrible parents”

Grocery shopping

Sometimes you’d have late night grocery shopping and shawn would attempt to ride the cart

You’d be at the cereal area and shawn would just pretend not to know you and try to flirt with you and use pick up lines

“Do you like kellogs? Wanna frost my flakes?”

“Sorry but my idiot boyfriend is waiting for me”

Debating on what ice cream to get

“Fuck you we’re getting vanilla”

Trying to pick out wine because you’re feeling fancy

“How the fuck do you pick out a good wine?”

“Just get the fancy looking one, that probably tastes good”

Cooking dinner together while jamming to miguel tracks like told you so and pineapple skies

Shawn pulls you in for a dance

Teaching shawn how to cook

Him coming behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your neck, cheeks and shoulders while teaching him how to cook the chicken

It puts a smile to your lips cooking for two instead of always cooking for one

You’re both afraid to go near the pan because of the oil sizzling

Shawn joking around like he’s on a cooking show and acting like gordon ramsay

“Its fucking raw!”

Rock paper scissors on who has to clean the dishes and take out the trash

“HA SUCK IT BITCH” “shawn” “sorry”

Jamming to 80 and 90s tracks

“THIS IS HOW WEEEE DOOO ITTTT”

Sitting on the balcony sipping on wine

Slow dancing to “The Way You Look Tonight by Tony Bennett” by the fireplace

Also not knowing how to set the fire to the fireplace

“This looked easier in the movies”

Sex by the fireplace

Sleeping by the fireplace naked

Doing laundry

“SHAWN YOUR SUPPOSE TO SEPARATE THE WHITES FROM THE COLORED ONES”

“oops”

One of his tops shrinks 2 sizes

“Honestly shawn how did you survive living alone?”

“I ask that myself too”

When you guys fight or have arguments he sleeps in the couch but you miss having him there in the bed so you go to the couch and he gives you some space to sleep beside him

Afternoon naps in the couch

You would go home to see shawn sprawled on the couch shirtless and only jeans writing lyrics

“Yeah i can get used to this view”

Sex on the couch

Lazy sundays

Naked sundays

“Sundays should be spent naked”

Midnight snack raiding the fridge in just your underwears

Shawn surprising you with breakfast in bed

“You just bought this in the local bakeshop didn't you? You didn't cook anything”

“Yeahp”

You guys try baking one time

Total fail.

It just ended up as a food fight and making out on the kitchen counter and shawn covered in flour and you covered in eggs

Camping out in the rooftop

You ask the landlord if you can leave a sofa type of furniture there

The rooftop also becomes a place to unwind and have a beer

Movie marathon

You guys attempt to watch all 8 harry potter films

You guys fell asleep midway through the first

“Fuck I’m getting old”

“Babe have you seen my keys?”

“Babe have you seen my wallet?”

Shawn opens the front door and shouts “HONEY I’M HOME!!”

You think you’re sly in stealing some of shawn shirts and hoodies and placing them on your side of the cabinet

But shawns has hunch you’ve been stealing them

“You’ve been stealing my clothes haven’t you?” “I have no idea what you’re talking about”

He goes to your cabinet and finds most of his hoodies and flannels

“AHA CAUGHT YA”

“Babe i need my clothes back or else I’ll have nothing to wear” “thats the point shawn!”

You wear them when he’s away on tour because it smells like him; like a part of him is here

Bed feels so big without him

Deciding on what pet to get

“We can’t get a dog” “i don’t want a cat”

You both decide to get a goldfish

“Let’s name it sushi” “rude shawn rude”

You forget to feed it the first few days

He comes home tour and you just let him sleep it out. Doing his laundry and everything

You would always cook for him every time he comes home from tour

And you would just sit on his lap while he eats and he’s just so happy because he gets to taste a home cooked meal again

“I miss your taste too”

There’s a part in your bedroom that has a wall of polaroids of your special moments

Making the bed together every morning

Smiling at each other through the mirror when you both brush your teeth

You do the bring it on brushing their teeth scene. Watch for visuals: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B3-ywpMj4Jk

Cooking and eating breakfast together

Shawn resting his chin on your head while you get ready for work

Shawn would leave it post it notes in different places when he leaves early for work

Leave cute words like “you’re so fine” using the letter magnets on the fridge

He would bring you home flowers sometimes

Forehead kisses in the morning

Shawn waking you up with kisses in the morning

Waking each other up when the other doesn’t want

“WAKEY WAKEY”

“SHAWN PUT BACK THE PAN AND STOP HITTING IT WITH THE SPATULA. IM AWAKE IM FUCKING AWAKE”

You guys give each other back massages when the other one is tired after a long day of work

Shawn trying to fix the lightbulb thats always flickering because he wants to feel responsibe

“If you get electrocuted…”

He ends up getting short by the lightbulb

Theres always the spider and cockroach situation

“YOUR TURN TO KILL IT” “NO ITS YOUR TURN I FEEL SO GUILTY ALREADY”

You guys make a hobby of working on like a 500 or 1k piece puzzle to destress from work

Framing them when you’ve finished

Playing the xbox once in a while

You both get so competitive with each other

We all know who the sour loser is

Attempting to have sex but you both just pass out on the bed

Shawn in just his boxers playing his guitar on the couch while you’re there trying not have a heart attack from the way he looks

Shawn chasing you around the apartment

There’s the “just us” kind of clean

There’s also the “holy crap our friends are coming over. Pick up your underwear” clean

And the “parents are coming over. we gotta make this place look like its never been used. DISINFECT EVERYTHING!!!” kind of clean

Bringing coffee or tea for shawn when he’s at his “in the zone” mood in his little studio room and him making tea for you when you’re working a lot

Taking care of the other when sick

“I got ya chicken noodle soup”

“I’m going to make you into a blanket burrito to keep you warm”

You guys hide snacks from each other

“SHAWN DID YOU FINISH MY CHEETOS?”

Shawn would pretend to be shocked

“WHAT? ME?”😦😦😦

Just having this natural and comfortable silence while both of you are doing your work

There’s always been a spare room and you ask shawn what do with

“Baby room in the future?”

You always schedule a date night especially at times when the work is too much and you don’t spend enough time. No phones. No work. Just the two of you enjoying each other.

“Cant wait to spend the rest of my life with you” “we’ll see” “Y/N” “just kidding i love you bitch. Can’t wait either”

#Shawn Mendes #Shawn Mendes Imagine #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes fanfic #illuminate #illuminate tour #illuminate world tour #magcon #magcon boys

1K notes · View notes

taeliciousdaelicious · 6 years

Text

G Clef || myg

Genre: Fluff, college!au

Pairing/s: You and college student!Yoongi

Description: The choice was simple. You either suffer alone by being partnered with someone stupid and/or lazy or you pair up with Min Yoongi and survive the whole semester with little headaches.

Note/s: This is based off on a prompt I saw that goes something along the lines of “You’re smart, I’m smart. Let’s save each other’s asses from idiots.” Also, this was supposed to be posted to celebrate Yoongi’s birthday on March 9. Oops. I blame my busy schedule for not finishing on time.

Word Count: 4,937

“Okay, class. For this semester, your project will be creating a three- to five-minute performance for the spring showcase. You’ll be paired up for this one. So, start finding the person you have in mind and pair up. Those who don’t have partners by the end of this period, come to me and we’ll do something about it. Make sure to submit your name and your partner’s name—if you already have one—to me.” You’re doomed. In that moment, you wanted to hide under your desk or run away from the lecture hall. However, eyes already zeroed in on you and you started dreading the time they would stand up and approach you. You were an easy target, as much as it hurts to admit it. You just seemed to be unable to say no, especially when someone dishes out a sob story. Mentally, you were already preparing yourself for a whole semester of dragging your partner up to the top—all by your damn self.

You knew they were already scrambling, almost tripping over their own two feet in the race to get to you first. You bit your lip, fighting the urge to close your eyes as you started taking down notes on your notebook to avoid looking at them. You could see a shadow stop in front of you and you braced yourself for the words before—

“Hey, Y/N. We’re partners for the showcase, okay? So, what genre of music do you have in mind?” Your head snapped up in utter surprise, as well as the other people in the room. Two rows below you, someone was casually walking up with his notebook in hand. Your eyes remained fixated on his figure as he simply slid into the seat right next to you and finally looked at the person who stopped in front of you, who was currently glaring at him.

“Is there anything we could help you with?” he asked the person. When there was no answer, he waved his hand in dismissal before turning his head towards you. You couldn’t believe that Min Yoongi just straight up declared you as his partner without consent, walked up to you and effectively scared away the person who wanted to pair up with you. But then again, it wasn’t too much of a surprise: Yoongi tended to do whatever he wanted to do.

When the person was finally out of earshot, you were able to notice how many pairs of eyes were all trained towards you and Yoongi. You didn’t like the attention, not when you knew that they were talking in hushed tones, hiding their moving mouths behind their hands. You shifted uncomfortably and Yoongi glanced at you.

“Mind your damn businesses. We have a performance to brainstorm for. Chop chop.” For a moment, you could almost hear him add ‘bitches’ at the end. You turned your head towards him and found Yoongi looking at you with a blank stare.

Awkwardness settled in when the two of you were now alone and addressing each other. You didn’t know how to speak to him. He had always been intimidating to you and somehow, you get tongue-tied around people like him. Luckily, you were saved from further embarrassment when he spoke first. It seemed that Yoongi would be taking the lead a lot of the times you two would be working on the showcase.

“So, I’m Yoongi. You’re Y/N. Introductions aside, do you have any ideas for the spring showcase? I have some in mind but I’d like to hear yours first. This is a partnership, after all” he said, opening his notebook. He took out his pen and readied himself to take notes.

The first statement that went out of your mouth was: “When you said ‘partnership’, I couldn’t help but get the vibes of a business venture and then my mind started going off on tangents that probably shouldn’t be discussed in a setting like this. I tend to run my mouth so excuse my French.”

— Then, when the embarrassment settled in: “Okay, forget I said anything earlier. So, ideas for the showcase? Yeah, I have those. Give me a moment to organize my thoughts, yeah? Cool? Cool. Splendid.”

You abruptly turned away then, under the pretense of thinking hard when really, your face was undergoing different shades of red. You couldn’t believe how much of a blunder you must have looked in front of him. To think that you were both supposed to be more intellectually-inclined than the rest of the people in the room!

When you felt like you could face him again without showing how idiotic you felt, you turned to him and answered his question with a tentative voice, “Hmm, how about we put together a duet? We can pull some strings to have an orchestral accompaniment or maybe just use a minus-one—“

“Y/N, I don’t sing. At all. I can rap. I can produce music. But I don’t sing” Yoongi deadpanned, cutting you off. You fell silent at that, feeling a little stupid again for assuming. Somehow, you seemed to keep on stumbling over yourself in the short amount of time you’ve spent in his presence. It made you dread your next meeting, knowing first impressions do last, no matter how much people try to deny it. And you just knew that your first impression wasn’t stellar to him.

“I like the orchestra accompaniment, though” he added, breaking you out of your mental scolding to yourself. “It would be a bit of a pain if we’re going to use an actual ensemble... What do you say about computer-generated music, Y/N?”

“I think it’s a godsend” you immediately answered, finding a little relief for being asked that. The simple question took your mind off your previous blunders. “Even though I’m a classically-trained singer, I appreciate the ease of creating music through computer software.”

He looked pleasantly surprised for a moment, which was a welcome change from his usual indifferent look. Then, he gave you a small smile before saying, “I guess we’ll get along just fine then.”

Then the next few minutes were spent brainstorming over what kind of performance you’d both like to present for the spring showcase. Somehow, through the course of your idea exchange, you inserted, “By the way, I forgot to tell you but I’m a classically-trained singer. So, um, I’m telling you this so you won’t be surprised if we ever end up deciding on putting together a pop performance and I have trouble with singing that genre.”

His answer was a simple nod and an “Okay” before he added, “What do you think about singing classically to computer-generated music?”

You blinked before tilting your head in confusion. “I don’t think I’m following your train of thought, Min Yoongi.”

He simply smirked in reply. You, on the other hand, was just relieved that it wasn’t anywhere near condescending. “Don’t worry, Y/N. Leave it to me. I’ll get the demo track ready by the end of the week, vocal guides and all. Let’s see if we can work with that or not.”

You looked at him and hesitated. It wasn’t that you couldn’t place your trust on him. You were just used to working independently, even in group works, that it was a little hard for you to shift from that work mindset to ‘we’re both capable so you can relax and enjoy this.’

Finally, when you exhaled, you felt a little bit of the tension in your body dissipate. With a smile, you told him, “I’m holding you to that, Yoongi. I’m not presenting a performace in the showcase only to come up as 2nd place. I don’t play around to become the first loser.”

He smirked again before saying, “That’s the spirit, Y/N.”

You didn’t expect for him to message you that night. You just came home from studying in the library when you phone chimed, signaling that you received a new message. When you checked it, you were surprised with the identity of the sender.

Yoongi: This is Y/N, right? Did I message the right contact? (Sent at 8:01 P.M.)

You blinked, trying to figure out if it was a hallucination or not. When it seemed like the letter weren’t about to go away anytime soon, you started tapping your thumbs against the screen of your phone as you typed your reply.

Y/N: Hey! Um, yeah, this is Y/N. Is there anything I can help you with? (Sent at 8:04 P.M.)

It was’t long before he replied.

Yoongi: I thought I had the wrong person. I’ll send a 30-second sample of the track. Tell me what you think about it. (Sent at 8:05 P.M.)

You raised both of your eyebrows at that. You expected him to work on it right away but you didn’t exactly expect him to start sending you status reports this early. Chuckling a little, you jumped when you saw the voice message he sent. Unlike what he said, it was a little more than thirty seconds long. Curiosity got the better of you as your thumb hit the ‘play’ button. Immediately, his voice spoke through your phone speakers.

“Hey. It’s Yoongi. So here’s the track I was working on for our performance” he said in lieu of an introduction. You didn’t mind. You actually preferred his straightforward approach. “I won’t be doing the vocals for now since I don’t have the lyrics yet. We can discuss changes or we can just create a new track. It all depends on what we’ll agree on. So, here it is.”

The snares and cymbals weren’t the tell-tale signs that the piece was jazz-inspired, if not totally jazz. It was the clear sound of the saxophone and the style and pattern of how the drums progressed that gave it away. You found your head bobbing up and down to the music before it was abruptly cut at the 30-second mark.

You didn’t realize how long you were sitting there on your couch when Yoongi suddenly texted you, breaking you out of your reverie.

Yoongi: Y/N? Hello? You haven’t replied yet. Is it that bad? (Sent at 8:10 P.M.)

“Bad? How the hell could it be bad? Min Yoongi, you idiot” you mumbled under your breath as you hastily typed your reply.

Y/N: What? No! It’s amazing! I wasn’t actually expecting the jazzy style of the music. Scratch that, I wasn’t expecting that you would start working on it as early as now. The hard work and the wonderful track are both highly appreciated. :) (Sent at 8:12 P.M.)

You locked your screen then afterwards and proceeded to put it on silent so you could actually start peeling off the clothes you’ve been wearing for the past twelve hours or so. While in the process of changing into your pajama set, you heard your phone buzz. You paused for a moment before chuckling, realizing that putting your phone on silent wouldn’t work on you. You grabbed it off the couch and read the message flashing on the screen.

Yoongi: Oh, I thought you didn’t like it because it took you a while to reply. Thought you were trying to figure out how to let me down. Just a heads-up, if there’s something you want to tell me, just say it. I don’t mind bluntness. We’ll work on the track tomorrow. Is that okay? (Sent at 8:15 P.M.)

Y/N: Sounds good! I’m usually free at around 5 P.M. onwards, I’ll inform you if something comes up, though. (Sent at 8:16 P.M.)

Yoongi: Okay. Thanks for your time. See you, Y/N. (Sent at 8:17 P.M.)

Y/N: Sure. See you, Yoongi. (Sent at 8:18 P.M.)

Working with Yoongi saved you from a lot of stresses that would have surely hit you had you been partnered up with someone else. As promised, you started working the very next day. He was actually quite easy to work with and takes suggestions well. However, if there was one thing that constantly had you at the edge of your seat during your meetings, it was his perfectionist streak.

It was during a particular Tuesday afternoon, between tuna salad and sugar-free cola, that he sighed heavily and rubbed his temple vigorously. You knew then that he was hit with what you had dubbed as his ‘perfectionism attacks’. You warily watched him out of the corner of your eye as he pressed the keyboard keys harder. At the rate things were going, it sounded like he was determined to make sure the keys were all sunk in by the time he was done. After a few moments, he finally broke the tensed silence.

“Y/N, stop stealing glances. It’s distracting me and puts more pressure on me” he muttered. Your shoulder jerked upwards in surprise, not expecting his words. Blinking repeatedly, you tried to figure out if he was serious or joking as you stared at him. Your gazes ended up meeting when he looked up to find you sitting as still as a statue.

“Is there something on my face, Y/N? You’re staring too much at me today” he said, his lips curving to a slight smile of amusement. You flushed then in embarrassment, ducking your head behind your notebook. Thankfully, it was propped upwards so hiding was easier.

Awkwardly, you cleared your throat as you tried to defend yourself, “I just thought there was something weird on your face earlier. I think it was a small insect or something but it flew away when you moved your head. Anyways, sorry for staring. So... is there anything I could do to help? I’m done with the lyrics.”

“Really? May I see it?” he asked, curiosity painting his voice. You suddenly felt a little self-conscious to show your work to him. Songwriting wasn’t really your strongest suite so you weren’t sure if he would find the lyrics terrible or not. Nevertheless, you sucked in a deep breath and lowered the notebook, turning it around so he could properly read. He was silent for a few moments as his eyes ran from one line to another, chasing the impressions of the inked letters you made on the paper.

The moment he was done, he immediately commented, “Not bad. I know you told me before hand about your weaknesses but your lyrics are honestly good. Sure, it needs some tweaking but it’s still considerably better compared to your average writer. And I think these are still a hundred times better compared to our classmates. No offense. Don’t tell those sensitive babies I said that.”

You laughed at his last words before pulling the notebook back to you. You picked up your pencil again as you smiled at him while saying, “That’s a better response than I expected. Thanks. So, um, what do you think should I do to improve this piece?”

Without warning, his slender fingers plucked the pencil and notebook of your hands. His skin briefly brushed against yours and for a moment, you thought, ‘Wow, what hand cream does he use? His skin is so soft.’

Then, you flushed a little for thinking that. You pushed it at the very back of your mind as you watched him hunch over your lyrics and glided the lead end of the pencil as he added lyrics and rubbed the rubber end against the paper to remove some of them. It took him a few minutes of constant revision and checking before finally giving a smile of satisfaction. “Alright, that’s it. Perfect. You did great, Y/N.”

You smiled back as you accepted your things from him. “Um, thanks, I guess. And thank you for editing my lyrics. So, anything I could do?”

He paused for a moment to think, spacing out as he stared blankly. Then, he asked you, “Are you free for the next hour?”

You tilted your head in confusion and curiosity before nodding affirmatively. His hand slipped below the table and you knew he would be tapping his fingers against his thigh. “Do you want to wait for the track? I’ll be done within an hour and you could listen to it right after. We can go over it once before we start recording and all that.”

“Sure!” you answered enthusiastically. You leaned forward to him as you gushed, “I’ve been honestly waiting for you to finish it because it sounded really good! I’m excited for the final product, actually. I’m sure it would be amazing because it’s made by the Min Yoongi. Duh. But really, it’s an honor to work with you and—”

“Y/N, stop word-vomiting” he said. It took you a moment to realize that the twitching of his lips indicated amusement, not frustration like you initially thought.

“I do not word-vomit!” you vehemently defended yourself. “I was merely in the process of praising your work. Excuse you, mister, if you can’t handle them because I will bloody give them where they are due and the way I see it, they are indeed due—”

“Y/N, you just proved my point. You just word-vomited. Again” he said, amusement now fully showing on his face. You opened your mouth in indignation before promptly closing it because you realized that you had no way of rebutting it. He was, in fact, right. And his light demeanor nearly made up for the fact that it was embarrassing to be wrong.

“Whatever, Mr. Producer. Go back to working on that damn track” you mumbled almost incoherently, starting to doodle absently on your notebook to pass time. You heard him chuckle before the clacking of keyboard keys resumed. And when you knew that he was already too immersed in work to notice, you looked through your lashes, taking in the easy expression on his face as he worked with what he loved.

The days seemed to meld into each other during the time you and Yoongi worked for your performance. Of course, it wasn’t smooth-sailing since day one. You pulled endless all-nighters, keeping contact through video calls from dusk to dawn as you did your best to make sure that the performance was something the both of you could be proud of. Your ideas would sometimes clash, resulting into disagreements. Some of them happened during class and most of the people thought you two were full-on fighting. However, to the two of you, excessive hand gestures and slightly-raised voices were normal whenever you talk it out because it does the job. You compromise if you could and choose the admittedly-better idea if there’s no room for the former. Four months later and here you were, waiting backstage as the spring showcase went on full-swing.

“Remember, the vocal run shouldn’t be too long and too much. Just a few riffs and vocal gymnastics here and there then nothing else. I will freaking bust a vein if you do more than that, Y/N. And don’t forget to—”

“—maintain the stiff-as-cardboard, I-don’t-play-around posture. Yeah, I got it, Yoongi. You’ve repeated that for the past, what, five minutes?” The words were said in amusement as you watched the male fidget beside you. “Calm down, why are you so nervous?”

“Why are you so calm?” he retorted, tapping his shoes against the floor at an impossible speed before stopping altogether. He sighed before saying, “God, what is wrong with me? Come on, Yoongi. This is just like any other project or performance. No biggie.”

“Guys? You’re next” one of the staff said to the two of you as he passed by. “Don’t forget to submit your musical accompaniment if you’re going to use one and make sure whatever instrument you requested is ready for your performance. Good luck!”

You heard Yoongi’s sharp inhale before you turned to see him look like he was suffering from constipation. You bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from laughing as amusement mixed with empathy for the male. Before you could say anything else, however, he said in a gruff voice, “Yes, I know how I look like right now. I’ve been told enough times that I could describe my own expression to you.”

You allowed a few giggles to escape your lips before you patted his shoulder. “I’m sorry. It’s just so funny to see you like this. Where is the cocky, smug and arrogant Min Yoongi I knew? The self-proclaimed genius in Music class?”

“He’s buried six feet under nerves” he replied in a mumble, making you chuckle further. Then, gently, you grabbed his shoulders and made him twist his body around so he could face you.

“Alright, listen up and listen well, Min Yoongi” you said in a firm voice. “I’m not much into pep talks but here we go. What are you fucking nervous about? This is your song. This is your brainchild. Heck, this is your blood, sweet and tears, brought to life for the past four months. I will not allow you to make this damn performance flop worse than a fish out of the sea. Pull your shit together because you own this. Are we clear on that, Min Yoongi?”

He blinked for several times that you thought he was about to cry. Instead, he stretched out his hand and patted your shoulder for a few times before he nodded resolutely. “Damn it, you’re right. Why the fuck am I acting like a headless chicken? Come on, Y/N. Let’s burn that bloody stage. Then, we’re getting vodka or some strong alcoholic beverage afterwards.”

You smacked him upside on the head, coupling it with a glare as you reprimanded him, “No, we will not do such a thing after the performance. I don’t want to deal with your sorry ass in case you get drunk.”

He simply rolled his eyes before he gripped your hand. It surprised you and rendered you speechless as he pulled you on stage and under the spotlight. You both bowed to the audience, hearing cheers and some people calling your names from the crowd. You flashed you most brilliant smile and whipped your head around to see Yoongi doing his own version of it, which was smiling with just a tiny strip of his gums showing. It was adorably, to say the least, but you didn’t have enough time to admire it or him as you were suddenly diving headfirst into your performance. And what Yoongi didn’t know was that you were very, very nervous.

Miraculously, your performance went off without a hitch. What satisfied you the most was the expression of the crowd when they saw Yoongi playing the piano. It had been a last-minute idea, decided just a week before the showcase. You agreed on practicing in one of the music rooms in the campus. On the way there, you heard the sound of a piano being played streaming through a door that was slightly ajar. Curious, you peeked in and found that it was Yoongi who was playing the said musical instrument. It took three free lunches and a whole lot of persuasion to get him to remove the piano sounds in the track just so he could play it live.

Suffice to say, it was probably one of the best ideas you had. As you sang, you slightly glanced to the side and saw Yoongi immensely enjoying himself while he played his way through the song. He looked up, just like he did when he first caught you staring, and smiled brightly at you. It was unlike the smile he gave the audience earlier. It was one of his many kinds of genuine smile, the kind where he wasn’t afraid to really stretch his lips to express just how at ease he was. It made him look younger and more attractive, making your cheeks gradually heat up. To the audience, it seemed like the two of you had great chemistry on stage. But to you, it was somewhat lethal with the way it made your heart skip a beat and become erratic.

Soon enough, the performance ended and you received a standing ovation. Only then did Yoongi knew how nervous you were when your knees gave out the moment you arrived backstage afterwards.

“Fuck, Y/N! Are you alright?” His outburst attracted the attention of the people within earshot. He was kneeling beside you and you smiled sheepishly at him, feeling a little stupid and highly embarrassed at the attention you were getting.

“I’m fine — no! Don’t bother! I can help myself up, thank you!” you hastily said, declining the offered hand by one of the staff. Somehow, you must have caused so much worry or maybe Yoongi did because of his previous words because they even attempted to get you on a stretcher. Yoongi ended up moving to the side because of the sudden influx of people in your area.

When the coddling became too much, you ended up raising your voice. “Everyone, please! Just—I’m okay! That was just the nerves making my knees weak. I’ll be fine on my own with little to no assistance. Thank you for the concern but I think you all have your work cut out for you because of the showcase. Come on, chop chop! I can handle myself.”

The crowd dissipated and you breathed out a sigh of relief, glad that the situation was finally diffused. You didn’t realize that Yoongi was there the whole time until he spoke up, “You were nervous? Why didn’t you say so, Y/N?”

You wearily looked up at him from the floor and found him squatting right next to you. You managed to breathe out a slight laugh as you said, “You looked like you were already panicking. I didn’t want to add more to your nerves. Besides, someone needed to be level-headed between the two of us.”

Surprisingly, he laughed at that. You couldn’t help but join in as you chortled, finding the entire situation funny now. The two of you shared a good time laughing about it before Yoongi said, “Okay, let’s get you off the floor. I think the people around us already had it in their heads that we’re crazy.”

“Crazy is better than being normal, I believe” you commented with an amused smile, letting him guide you back to your feet and towards the makeshift waiting room you shared with some other acts. Luckily, it was empty when you arrived so you were able to kick your feet up and comfortably rest it on the coffee table.

“This semester was surprisingly fun” he admitted. “Thanks for working on this project with me, Y/N. I had a great time.”

You looked at his face searchingly. You couldn’t mistake the sincerity in his eyes even when he was already starting to squirm in discomfort under your scrutiny. So, you smiled softly at him and answered in a whisper, “Me, too. It’s a shame that this is the only class we share. If we ever had the chance to be classmates next semester, you’re automatically my partner for all group aciivities, you hear? I don’t want to go back to doing all the work by myself.”

“God, yes, I agree to that” he said in distaste, his face scrunching up in displeasure. He was probably remembering all those times he had to hustle everything by himself just so he and his groupmates would have decent grades. “I think I got too used to working with someone capable now. We make a good team, Y/N.”

“That we do” you hummed in agreement. You raised an imaginary champagne flute as you said, “Here’s to a good grade.”

“You meant ‘an excellent grade’“ he interjected. You merely rolled your eyes at him, even as the corners of your lips threatened to curve upwards into a smile.

A new semester had begun and you dreaded who your classmates were going to be. For some reason, everyone seemed to know who had the brightest minds in their year level. You had been approached by countless people in the hallways, saying they wanted to be in the same classes as you after seeing how much of a success your spring showcase performance was. Internally, you were already sighing and preparing yourself for the ‘no’s you were about to hand out to the people you knew you wouldn’t want to be grouped or partnered with.

You had just walked into the lecture hall for one of your classes that morning when you were bombarded by the same not-so-subtle invitations to be groupmates. You had to make a conscious effort not to roll your eyes because you might have grown a spine from the four months you spent with a certain, sometimes callous man but you weren’t that rude to just blatantly show disinterest.

So, you endured for the next five minutes before you were finally able to get an isolated seat. You didn’t notice was beside you until a familiar voice spoke up, “You were quite the little celebrity, Y/N. Don’t let the fame get to your head.”

You paused for a moment, before you slowly rotated your head towards him. Your lips formed a smile that matched his, communicating amusement and joy at seeing him. Looking at him straight in the eyes, you whispered conspiratorially, “Hello there, partner. What says you about saving each other again from idiot and lazy asses for this semester?”

He smiled wider as he answered in an equally playful tone, “I say, ‘Do I really have a choice?’”

You lightly punched his arm in mock anger before bursting into laughter, glad that you have a friend with whom you can be comfortable with—and share the burden of generating excellent grades.

I might or might not have related a lot to this because I do this often at school like they expect me to be the only one working since I’m the only one who bothers to work hard enough in a group

#bts #bts suga #suga #bts yoongi #min yoongi #kpop #Tumblr fanfic #fluff #college!au #college student!yoongi #yoongi's 25th birthday fic

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theghostofashton · 6 years

Text

i’m giving you all my love

hi so i said i'd post a valentine's day oneshot...and it's now technically the 15th oops i had an exam today and that kinda drained me so it took a while to get into a groove and really write this.

i intended on it being really cute but there's a lot of sad??? god i didn't expect that i thought i was getting better at writing fluff and then this happens

so trigger warning for depression and anxiety i guess. also i listened to 'i won't give up' on repeat writing so y'all should def listen to that while you read. it's where the title's from anyway so lmao

enjoy!

It’s been a long few days.

It’s been blurred edges and unclear endings, stiff-limbed and limp, grease and tangled sheets, all mashing together to form the ache in his head and the lump in his throat. It’s been jagged and sharp but soft and pliable and easily walked over. It’s been stringy hair and sweat soaked fabric and white walls and bleary eyes. It’s been heavy and exhausting and all too familiar.

It’s been depression and it’s been his life for the past week.

It’s not foreign and it’s definitely not the first time but it’s not something he’ll ever get used to. It’s hard to accustom to the feeling of waking up with ledges and pills and what if I just went to sleep and never woke up again wouldn’t that be easy wouldn’t it make everyone’s lives better wouldn’t it make the world a better place.

Wouldn’t it?

Geoff bought him that journal for Christmas and told him to write his feelings but he couldn’t even manage to sort through what he was feeling, figure out where the sadness ended and the numbness began. It all mixed together, draping over him like a weighted blanket that caused him anxiety rather than helping with it.

He was hollow, he was numb, he was nothing. Like someone reached inside his body and scooped everything out, all traces of happiness and light and laughter and sustenance, gone. The flowers shriveled up and weeds began to grow and every shaft of light was sealed off and his skeleton felt like just that. A skeleton. Nothing more. A series of bones arranged in a particular order that he knew had a purpose but didn’t want to give one.

And now he’s here and the worst of it is over – he got out of bed and put something into his stomach and showered, for the first time in close to seven days jesus fucking christ you’re disgusting – Geoff’s at work and he’s alone. Maybe he’ll actually get some work done today, record some more or rework some lyrics he wrote a couple weeks ago. His journal is sitting, untouched, on their nightstand, pen resting on top so every time he looked up in the past week all he saw was a reminder that he couldn’t even be sad right. He couldn’t even put it into words he’s not a real artist he’s nothing nothingnothingnothing.

He jumps when his phone buzzes in his pocket. His heart is racing as he pulls it out of his jeans, startled by the sudden noise. “Hey dude, what’s up?”

“What are you and Geoff doin’ tomorrow night?” Jawn asks. He’s never been one for pleasantries. Awsten chuckles and leans back against the counter, shifting the phone against his ear.

“I dunno,” he says. “Why? You wanna do something?”

“Are you fuckin’ with me?”

“What?”

“Funny one, Aws. I know you got plans tomorrow, don’t even try ta hide it.”

Awsten grips his phone tighter, pulling his lip in with his teeth. What is he forgetting? Is it Geoff’s birthday? His own? There’s something significant about tomorrow…

“M’not joking Jawn.” The words feel weird on his tongue, too big for his mouth. He swallows around them and tries to keep his breathing steady. “What’s tomorrow?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day dude. Did you seriously forget?”

He stops.

The world swirls around him, like someone just put him in a blender and he’s watching everything move around from inside. He presses a hand to his temple and closes his eyes but the dizziness doesn’t cease. “I. Um. I gotta. Go.” He hangs up the phone with shaking hands, barely able to press the button to end the call and cut off Jawn’s higher, now worried sounding voice.

Valentine’s Day he forgot Valentine’s Day how did this happen how did he do this what the fuck is he going to do how did he forget what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck you really did it this time you fucked up you fucked up you fucked up big time you fucked up.

He knows Geoff’s been planning something Geoff is always planning something Geoff always has a surprise up his sleeve that’s not Valentine’s Day that’s dating Geoff Wigington he’s always ready to top his previous gift and he definitely will this time because Awsten doesn’t even have a gift.

He takes a step forward and stumbles, leaning back against the counter and gripping the edge to stay steady. He hears the loud barks before he feels a body against his legs, pressing against his calves. “H-Hey Coops,” he forces out, reaching down with a still trembling hand to tangle his fingers in the dog’s fur.

Cooper barks again, standing up on his hind legs and pressing a paw into his thigh. He swallows and bends down, further and further, until his butt hits the floor. He pulls his knees up to his chest and Cooper whines loudly, pawing at his kneecaps. When he puts his legs down Cooper practically jumps onto his lap, pawing desperately at his face and raking his tongue across Awsten’s skin.

Awsten rubs at his eyes. He didn’t even realize he was crying. He swallows against the lump in his throat and holds out a hand for Cooper to lick. “I’m fine boy. Thank you. I love you. I’m okay, I promise.”

Cooper stays at his side when he gets up, follows him into the bedroom and jumps onto his bed and even tries to join him in the bathroom a few minutes later.

As calming as Cooper is, it doesn’t take away from the fact that Valentine’s Day is tomorrow and he still doesn’t have a gift and has no idea what he could do for a gift and Geoff’s probably had something planned for weeks this is just another nail in the coffin he’s the worst fiancé in the world and now everyone’s gonna know about it their friends will ask what they got each other for Valentine’s Day and Geoff will lie and be sweet like he always is and he’ll feel his heart pulsate and his skin shrivel up and melt off his body because all he is is a skeleton.

A useless sack of bones that has nothing to give to his fiancé on Valentine’s Day.

…

“Jawn shut up and talk to me. Is he okay?”

“He hung up real quick.” Jawn’s voice crackles through his phone. Geoff shifts the phone between his shoulder and ear and stretches to pull his keys out of his pocket. He unlocks the front door and grabs his phone again, touching a button to put Jawn on speaker. “He…I really don’t think he realized what tomorrow is.”

“He hasn’t gotten outta bed in a week,” Geoff tells him. “I didn’t expect him to remember or even want to do anything, honestly.”

“But you planned something, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did,” he mutters. “He deserves it. He deserves so much more than it.”

“And I don’t suppose you’ll tell me what ‘it’ is…”

“If Awsten wants to tell you, he can,” Geoff says. “It’s his surprise.”

“Please don’t tell me you got him a fuckin’ sex swing or shit.”

“I’m hanging up now.” Geoff touches another button on his screen and slips his phone into his pocket. Awsten’s car was in the driveway when he pulled in – he didn’t expect him to go anywhere. Getting out of bed is accomplishment enough – but he usually would’ve heard the garage open and come out to see him by now. “Aws? Love, where are you?”

A series of loud barks is his response. Cooper rushes into the room and weaves around his legs. He gets up on his hind legs and paws at Geoff’s thighs. Geoff crouches down so he can see him better and rests a hand on his head. “What’s goin’ on Coops? Where’s Awsten?”

Cooper leads him into the bedroom. Geoff stops in the doorway, bringing a hand to his heart. He presses it into his chest. His teeth sink into his lip.

Awsten is lying on his side, knees pulled up to his chest. His eyes are closed and his cheeks are shining with tear tracks. His face looks swollen, like he’s been crying for a long time. His hair is messy. He’s dressed, wearing jeans and one of his favorite sweaters.

He was so close.

Geoff moves to the side of the bed. He slips out of his denim jacket and tosses it into the floor. Awsten’s facing away from him and now, most definitely asleep. The movement would’ve roused him if he weren’t.

He slides onto the bed and pulls Awsten into his arms. Awsten squirms and snuffles a bit, letting out a whimper. He begins to stir and Geoff winces, pressing his lips against the back of his neck, right where his hair stops. “S’okay baby. Go back to sleep. M’here now. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

The conversation that followed would’ve been so unbelievably uncomfortable had it happened. But Awsten falls back into sleep quickly, sniffling and choking out another raspy whimper before going still in Geoff’s arms. Geoff sighs, tousling his fingers through the soft lavender strands of hair. Awsten’s roots are growing in, brown mixing with purple to create a blend that Geoff loves but he knows Awsten isn’t happy with.

Depression drains him, draws the shade on saturation like the color has simply been vacuumed out. He lives in achromics, a sea of misery that confines him to their bed, leaves him limp and lifeless, repaints the purple under his eyes darker than his hair because he’s tired but not sleeping, in bed but not resting, surviving life but not living.

“I love you so much,” Geoff murmurs against Awsten’s skin. “You make me happier than I ever thought I could be and I hate that I can’t do that for you. But I hope tomorrow makes you smile because I love your smile and I love your laugh and I love when your eyes get all crinkly because you can’t stop smiling. You’ve given me everything and I hope tomorrow shows you that. I love you, angel. More than I’ll ever be able to say.”

…

He’s gonna be sick.

His stomach’s been churning all day, flipping over and over uncomfortably. The closer they get to dinnertime the more nauseous he feels because Geoff definitely has something planned and the shitty thing he did won’t ever match up and he doesn’t want to win the worst fiancé in history award but he’s definitely on the nominees list.

“Love, hey, we’re gonna go for a drive.” Geoff rests a hand on his back and presses his jacket against his body. “I wanna show you something.”

This is it it’s happening he’s the worst fiancé he won it’s happening he’s gonna look like an idiot Geoff is a dream and he’s a nightmare he’s everyone’s worst nightmare why does Geoff want to marry this mess does he even realize what he’s getting himself into.

It doesn’t stop for the entirety of the drive. Geoff takes his hand over the center console and he squirms, sweating and shaking and trying to discreetly pull away without Geoff noticing you fucked up you’re worthless he’s gonna hate you.

“Baby.” The car stops and he looks up. They’re parked…in the park? He was thinking fancy dinners and expensive china and food he’s not even hungry for, making a fool out of himself in front of a bunch of snobby people and watching the smile drop off Geoff’s face as his act fell through. He was expecting disappointment and guilt and fear and shame, not to end up at the park he practically lives at while Geoff’s at work all day.

Geoff comes around and pulls his door open for him, then extends a hand. He bites his lip and lets Geoff help him out of the car and lead him into the park. “What are we…what is this?”

“You’ll see,” Geoff says. “Close your eyes love, okay? No peeking. I don’t want you ta see it before it’s ready. Don’t ruin the surprise.”

Of course there’s a surprise of course it’s something huge he doesn’t know what Geoff did but whatever it is it’s huge and now he has to explain how he couldn’t come up with a better present because he couldn’t drag his stupid ass out of bed he doesn’t want to be here he doesn’t want to do this why is this happening to him why is this his life why is Geoff still with him whywhywhy.

“Alright,” Geoff’s voice sounds farther away. “Open them.”

And when he does, all he can do is stare.

They’re in the part of the park that’s secluded, a little corner off to the side completely enclosed in by trees. The trees are covered in this spider webbed cotton and strung with little white fairy lights honestly how the fuck did Geoff even plug them in there’s a large picnic blanket on the ground with a basket sitting on top of it. “Geoff, I-”

“Hang on.” Geoff steps over to him and takes his hands, moving so they’re both standing in the middle of everything. “I…I knew you didn’t wanna go big this year, Aws. I know it’s been rough for you lately. I know you’ve been in a really bad place and I know this week in particular was really, really bad. I didn’t wanna do something huge. I didn’t think you’d want it either. Save that for the wedding, right?” He chuckles and waves a hand across. “I wanted it to be simple. Just you and me, under the lights, watching the stars.” He lifts Awsten’s chin and looks him in the eye. “Valentine’s Day’s not about how much you spend or how big you go. It’s about love and being together and celebrating that and it is so beautiful. You, Aws. You are so beautiful. And this is the place we met, the place we went on our first date, the place we became boyfriends…this is the exact spot I proposed to you. This is our reminder that no matter what happens, it’ll always be us, Geoff and Awsten, against the world. Okay? You’ll always have me. No matter what happens. I’ll always be here and I’ll always love you, even when you don’t love yourself.” He smiles. “This day is about you, love. I get to celebrate you. That’s why I love it so much. Any day I get ta celebrate you is a good day for me. I love you, Awsten Constantine Knight. You are the love of my life and I can’t wait to call you my husband.”

“Geoff…” Awsten chokes out. Tears are dripping down his chin and clinging to his neck. His cheeks hurt. The smile aches but he leaves it, looking into Geoff’s eyes. His lip is quivering but he leans in anyway, crashing his lips to Geoff’s. “I-I love you. I don’t- this is…” He trails off. Geoff knows him better than anyone. This just proved that.

He swallows and pulls his phone out of his pocket. Of course Geoff’s idea, no matter how simple, would still turn out over the top and absolutely brilliant. His heart is racing. He still feels the nausea, the balloon lodged in the pit of his stomach that’s just about to pop. “I’m so sorry about how bad this is I forgot I know I’m the worst I hate myself it’s okay I’m so sorry I tried so hard but I couldn’t think of anything for so long and then when I finally did I didn’t have time to-”

“Whoa, breathe sweetheart.” Geoff grips his biceps and holds him up. Awsten wobbles. His legs feel like jelly. He’s sure if Geoff weren’t holding him that he would’ve fainted. “It’s okay. Take a deep breath. Listen. I talked to Jawn, okay? It’s okay. Everything’s okay. No one’s mad at you, it’s perfectly alright. I need you to breathe with me, okay angel? Deep breaths. You’re okay.”

He feels hot and cold at the same time ice is breaking over his back and heat is swelling up right underneath he wants to go why did he even start talking oh god. “I-I wrote you a song for Christmas and I. I wrote this. And it’s probably so bad and I’m so sorry and I didn’t even have time to record it or anything I don’t even know if it sounds okay I just. I didn’t wanna give you nothing you always do all these nice things for me and I’m too much of a mess to do the same and I’m so sorry because you deserve so much better.”

“Awsten.” Geoff’s voice is firm. “Stop. Today is about the person I love, and I’m not gonna let you talk like that about him, okay? He deserves every ounce of love this world has and nothing less.”

“I don’t deserve you,” Awsten says again, pushing his phone at Geoff.

He waits, tasting copper as Geoff’s eyes move back and forth. He swipes the screen and Awsten presses down harder, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears that are burning.

“You’re my final destination?” Geoff looks up at him. His voice sounds…different. Awsten’s never heard that shift in tone before. “I hope it’s nicer where you are, ‘cause I only wanna lift you up? Aws, this is…this is beautiful, sweetheart.”

He barely gets a word out before Geoff is hugging him, pressing him into his chest. Awsten tucks his head up under Geoff’s chin and lets his tears soak into Geoff’s shirt. “You really like it?”

“You know how many times I’ve listened to Lucky People?” He shakes his head. “After you record this I promise I’ll listen to it twice as much. But baby…this is never going to end, okay? I’m never going to leave you. And wherever I go, you’re comin’ with me. I love you. Good days and bad, I love all of them and I want to be there for all of them the rest of my life. So please stop beating yourself up over this angel. You gave me an amazing present, and even if you hadn’t, everything would still be okay. You’ve had a rough week. Being here, with me…that’s present enough love. Having you is present enough.”

“I love you,” Awsten sobs. His chest feels like it’s exploding. His heart could burst. It’s warm and there are fireworks and everything is spinning but it’s a carousel not a blender it’s a carousel of horses and laughter and light.

He feels his knees hit the ground and he’s there for just a moment before Geoff pulls him into his lap. They press their lips together and he wraps his arms around Geoff’s neck, resting his forehead against Geoff’s when they pull away. Geoff’s crying and he is too. The liquid supply is endless, like his heart decided to lodge itself in his tear ducts and pour out all his love for Geoff.

“I love you,” Geoff echoes. Awsten scoots off his lap and puts a hand on his chest. He pushes him until he’s lying down and curls next to him, rests his head on Geoff’s chest and turns his gaze to the stars. Geoff grabs his hand and intertwines their fingers, then brings it to his lips for a kiss.

They’ve shared many Valentine’s Days and they’re usually full of the clichés, of candy and chocolate hearts and fancy dinners and a wild night to finish things off.

This is different.

This is messy, laden with panic attacks and fresh tears and fear and anxiety, this is blurry and foggy and real, this is how he is most of the time, the real him that can’t be shoved under some candy hearts and a nice suit. And somehow, this is the person that Geoff loves, the anxiety-ridden, depression-heavy mess. But this is also fairy lights and stars and carousels and warmth fireworks fireplaces home this is home Geoff is his home.

This is his favorite.

This is everywhere he wants to be, forever, until the end of time.

This is everything.

#waterparks #waterparks fanfiction #awsten knight #geoff wigington #gawsten #gawsten fanfiction #this got real sad real quick oops #appreciate me #i wrote most of this past midnight #idk if it's even coherent #neha writes

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chickenstuffedwithmozzarella · 6 years

Note

Yaaay!! Thank you Soraya's inbox, sorry i blamed you on eating the last ask😂😘. You did great. Nono, he wasnt a torero, he looked like a prince. (Which is not better bcs i dont like any of those figures but... whatever). Ooh, talking about suits, did you see the ranking hsfashionarchive did of the suits he wore this tour? Bcn was winning, pink suit was second and Mdd was third!! (1)

[I hope this works 😜🙏🏻, bc this was TOO long, jajajaa.]

Ohhh. Your mom is the best. So supportive! Petition to give her that award. She is clearly the winner. (1D clinex? capitalism in its pure state 😂. Did they really made those? Glad i didnt find it on time bcs i would have definitely brought them as a joke to my sister or something). You are already playing Niall’s songs to her? Did she like them? Does she have anything similar to “pikachu get away” she had for SOTT?. (2)

JAJAJAJJA. Netflix always does that to me too. Dont know why. I started watching Black mirror backwards bcs of that. Did you understand anything of chapter 7 os ST? (Did you finish the show??). Yep. The 8th season is the last one, and i dont know hoe to feel about it. Dissapointed by the shows? As in with the ending?? Or how? (3)

You sound like a devoted cat lady, yes. Ooow, i have little cousins too, though they are reaching the age of “too cool to be seen with you, old girl” Of course they make me laugh. Honey is a menace and i appreciate it. JAJAJAJAJAJAJA. He ate the chorizo?? Honeeey!! 😂😂😂 that made me laugh at loud int the train and now my neighbour is looking at me weirdly. I see, you’ll never get bored with him. (4)

When i was younger and + close minded, i didnt like tattos. Considere also that the ones I had saw in real life were the tribal ones, so there’s tgat. But then i grew up and started liking them (you can partially blame larry for that). Nobody in my family (cousins and so) has one, and thats kind of a encouragement, I’d love to piss them, but my dad has threaten me to disinherit me (we dont heven have that, lol) and i dont have any tatto on mind, so i wont do it… maybe in the future, yes. (5)

I MISS LOUIS TOO! I hope he is fine. Resting and so. Im sure that creating the album that will destroy us all takes a lot of effort. (Seriously, where is heeeee?). Heeey!! I wont get bored. Or mad! I have such a great time talking to you. If i dont talk more its bcs of the character limit and bcs im always worried about pressuring or imposing. Dont be dumb. If i dont answer its bcs im busy with finals and so. Nothing more. Promise. (6)

THANK YOU FOR UNDERSTANDING. i know i know. It makes sense and its a smart move, but… i cant stand raeggeton/latino, its not for me. Sad. I havent lost hope though. Maybe ill change my mind later Yeah, i have the same problem with my friends, they only listen to trap and raeggeton and i die everytime. We mostly agree to put something neutral like pop or the radio. (Disney songs never get old😂). (7)

Ay. I just saw that i wrote “heven” instead of “even” and now i want to delete myself. I was walking while writing the asks and i didnt proofread it. I feel so dumb. Anyway, sorry for sending so many asks (today i made a record xd) and, as always, good night!!————————————————————————-Hi!!!! Yes! I saw the ranking. But it isn’t exactly a ranking. It’s more to like chose wants your favorite suit. I did it and guess what? My first choice in the Madrid one, jajajaa. Second the kilt. And third the jumpsuit. Very accurate.

Oh, you’re telling me! My family bought me a bunch of 1D merch (unofficial all): the clinex, a hair brush, a bracelet, 2 books!, one perfume (this I love it, it smells so good), a make up box… I can’t even remember everything. Ah! A birthday card too!! Where they talk when you open it. I always use to wish happy birthday to people (the audio) 🤣🤣🤣🤣. I had to tell them to please stop wasting money on those things. I don’t even know where I have it. And if a can ask, I’d rather they give me the money so I can go to their concerts,jajajaja.EDIT: I can’t believe I forgot the poster!! I have it beside my head right now,jajaja, and I only realized it was there when I looked at the boys to ask for inspiration,😅😅)

Oh, my mom loves Niall’s album too. But I don’t think she “knows” any of the lyrics,jajaja. Though, she knows the hmmmm in This Town. But that’s all. She and my sister, both separately were like: “oh! who’s him??” When they heard Fire Away. And I was like: “ehhhhh, it’s Niall’s album, so guess who’s it?? What, you like it? See, Harry’s not the only one who can sing…” jajajajja. It’s because of comments like this, that they think I don’t like Harry. And I get so offended when they hint at it! Like, of course I like Harry. But I like all of them too!! God!! I love Niall’s album so much (I’m hearing it right now, bc I couldn’t remember what song was the one they liked it so much, and now I can’t stop 😅). Harry’s and Niall’s albums have been lining in my car since they were released. I had Harry’s playing in a loop till I got Niall’s one and I interchanged them. Then Harry’s came back a month or so before his concert. And now it’s time for Niall’s again. (You can’t imagine how hard it’s being writing this with honey laying on my arm!! Jajaja, I can’t barely move my fingers😅).

AND WHAT DID YOU DO WHEN YOU REALIZED YOU WERE WATCHING BLACK MIRROS BACKWARDS??? I’ve watched canter 1 and 2 of ST afterwards, but I hadn’t gotten to watch the whole thing yet. I can’t stand to be looking at a screen for 50minutes without doing anything. And don’t get me wrong, lol, I can be on tumblr for hours, jajaja, but a have to move my hand, and I can go from a blog to another… y'know, jajajajaja. And when I watched chapter 7 of ST i was like, okay… now they have to investigate what happened… or a guessed they would be doing flashbacks… jajajajajaja. Then I realized my mistake and thought I was stupid, 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣“I see you from a different point of view🎶🎶” ( sorry, that’s me singing,jajajaja, Seeing Blind. I LOVE that song)And shows have disappointed me in the sense that they turn out to have an awful ending (seriously, I know you do it for the audience, but end a show how it deserves it, don’t turn it into shit just for a handful of money); or bc they just end it bc they don’t have enough audience. It’s always a matter of audience,jajaja.if they have a lot, they want to explode it. And if they don’t have enough they finish it ASAP. 😒

Honey is a menace, yeh, I couldn’t love him more,jajajaja. He can’t see me petting Liam, he gets jealous and comes to me and headbutt my hand so I pet him too. And Liam is so patient with him. They’re totally like liam and Louis, jajja. Hey! did I tell you the story about when I got Liam? no!! Well, someone gave my dad 4 kitties (they were sooooo small). So, guess their names (it was post March 25, 2015…) yes!! They were named (by me) Louis, Niall, Harry and Liam, jajajajajja. But Harry died a couple of days later, because he was really really young. He couldn’t survive without his mom ☹️. And the other three, my dad took them to a place we have were he has a little garden (?) with vegetables and chickens and proper farm-y, jejeje. I wasn’t too (any) into cats back then, so… Then he brought home one of them, to have our home free of mice. AND IT WAS LIAM!! And I adopted him. I took care of him. We started loving each other. And he became useless with mice, jajaja. He’s totally domesticated now 😝. And that’s his story. The rest? Louis became a big alpha male at their new home. But s car ran him over last summer, and he died 😔. And Niall is a female, jajajajaa. And I hate her. Because she hasn’t been able to keep her kitties alive once!! (She’s pregame again, and we’re praying this time she knows who to be a mom🙏🏻) Ah!! And Honey had siblings the other day!! The guy who gave it to my dad is my brother’s friend and he show him a pic. There are two white cats!! I WANT THEM!!! But they don’t let me have anymore cats! Jajajajaja.

Hey, we might have in common the reason why we started liking tats, jajajjajaa. And, well, to piss off the family is as good a reason as any other,jajajaja. And why are dads like that?? When my sister and I got our lips pierced he went to pick up at the train station and as soon as he saw us he turned around and walked to the car without saying a word,jajajajja. I HAD TOLMY PARENTS WE WOULD BE DOING IT!! I asked my mom:hey mom, if a get a 10 in maths, can I get a piercing?? And she say okay. So I got a 10 (I might cheated or not on this, bc I already knew I had a 10, but wel…), and I got a piercing.my sister only got it, bc I was 16, she had to go with me as an adult, and giving she was already there, she got one too,jajajaja. (My granny almost kill us 😅)

Oh, louis has a BIG responsibility on his hands. He will be killing a lot of people when he puts out his album. He has to chose the proper songs to do it. It will be considered a massive destruction weapon, so he better be careful. But god, for real, when will Louis and Liam release their albums. At this pace, Harry and Niall will be releasing their second one before LiLo has finished their respective tours. And when they finish, Narry will have release their second one, and will be promoting them. So Lilo will start working in their seconds one. And… and… AND ONE DIRECTION WON’T COME BACK EVER BECAUSE THEY CAN FIX A DATE WHERE ALL OF THE BOYS HAVE NOTHING TO DO, AND WHAT WILL I DO??? 😭😭😭😭😭 (sorry, I panicked a bit there,oops).

Uggggg, I can’t stand raeggeton either. I can’t stand the music, argggg. Or the culture of it (the how it treats women, and glorifies sex). I can’t I can’t.and you can’t go out without hearing it. My friends and I went on road trip once. And it was my friend’s car. And she only listens to raeggeton. And after 10, 15, 40? minutes I had to ask her “will this song ever end???” And she told me it was already a different one. And I swear I almost jump out of the car,jajajajaja. We were crossing a bridge, and I wanted to jump out of the car!!!!! I couldn’t listen to that any more!!!!! Ejkbvwirbfeuirnfrvoieefvnv The she caved and we switched to movie’s soundtracks,jajajaja.

Ha! Don’t worry about sending a lot of ask, I learn something, you’ll see,jajajajaa.Also, I forgot to ask early. Is your sister a 1d fan too, then? She goes to concerts and knows the song… how lucky! you have someone to talk about all the gossip!! (And they know what you’re talking about…) or is she a “casual” fan, and doesn’t get into fandom drama? She just likes the music and doesn’t care about their lives?are you both into drama?? God, I don’t discuss drama very much online, but if had someone face to face to talk about it… I would be the happiest person in the world,jajajajaa (what an exaggeration 🙊).

I think this is all. I LOVE ORPUR CONVERSATIONS!! Jajajaja( I hope I did it correctly and all this is under read more, jajaja)Byeeeeee!!!! 😚😚😚😚

#anon #iuubefvkjnevjknefv #it's the first time I put read more #I learnt how to do it yesterday (I had too google it #lol)

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lordsicheng · 6 years

Text

Music: Kim Yongguk

soulmate!Kim Yongguk x OC (3/7)

in which both of your preferences in music become a source of your unexpected liking for each other as well

You groggily rested your chin on your wrist with the support of your elbow on the desk, reading through a couple of pages for your upcoming test on Friday. You were so tired from the night before since you finished all of your requirements for one class, only for the professor to add in a few more coverage for the test. You let out a low whine as you slammed your head on the desk, your roommate surprised as she looked at you from reading a book and just clicking her tongue

“I told you to take the class next semester.” she rolled her eyes as she looked back on her book

“If I took it later then I won’t be able to join that exchange program next school year.” you slowly turned your head to look at your roommate

“You’re actually gonna take the program to Germany?” she asked, raising her brow without looking at you

“I’m taking the one for Japan.” you raised your head and looked at your textbook again before closing it shut from frustration

“The one for Japan seems more better, you probably won’t even survive China.” she chuckled as she laid down, still reading her book

“Whatever. I’m gonna go use the bathroom.” you rolled your eyes as you stood up and went out your room and off to the shared bathroom within the sorority house, just a few doors away

You turned the knob to realize it was locked, furrowing your brows as you looked up and noticed someone inside was taking a shower. You decided to just wait and leaned your back on the wall next to the door, hearing one of your sorority sisters sing while inside. You scratched your head as you realized the song sounded really nice, but laughed as you noticed the person inside the bathroom went on a wrong pitch, making you burst out a chuckle and shaking your head. Once they were done, they opened the door and noticed you stand by the side

“Oops, sorry, y/n.” she chuckled as she fixed her towel and moved to the side

“It’s fine. I only waited a few minutes.” you grinned as you walked over to the bathroom door

“Bathroom’s all yours now.” she nodded as she started walking away, until you suddenly turned back and looked at her

“Wait.” you called, and she turned with a smile

“What song were you singing inside, if you don’t mind me asking?” you asked

“Oh, Whatever You Do by Crush.” she beamed before turning to leave

“Thanks.” you clicked your tongue once and nodded and went back inside the bathroom

“Hurry up, hyung! Choose a song already!”

Yongguk frantically rummaged through the pages of the song book while at a karaoke bar with his friends, trying to find the song he wanted to sing that night

“The song’s not here…” Yongguk mumbled

“Choose a different song then, hyung.” his friend, Shihyun, complained

“Wait, here it is! Can you press the number for me? This one.” Yongguk pointed to the song, and Shihyun pressed the five numbers before the song started

“Gimme the mic.” Yongguk held out his hand as Shihyun gave him the mic immediately as he started singing

“Warm air and clear sunshine, it’s a good day to meet you~”

Yongguk sang at the same time you were wearing your earphone listening to the same song, lightly bobbling your head to the tune as you loved its composition. You smiled a bit as you tried to catch on the lyrics, only to end up humming to it since you knew you were bad at memorizing. You chuckled to yourself as you turned to look at the side, only to realize your roommate had fallen asleep and started snoring, making you shift back to your playlist as you searched for more songs of the artist you were starting to get into.

As Yongguk scrolled through his personal playlist on his phone, he looked around the hallway to see if he was walking towards someone’s way, in case he bumps to them. He continued to scroll as he chose a song he recently started liking, playing it as soon as he got to the small music studio that was located within the music building, where his other friends stayed at as they prepared to make some compositions for their next class

“Yongguk, can you pass me those papers next to you?” one of his classmates pointed to the pile next to Yongguk, where he grabbed it in an instant as he started singing as he handed it over to his friend

“If you and me become estranged someday, if we could never meet each other, Don’t forget…

Don’t lose…”

“Yongguk sure has a pretty good tone to his voice.” one of his other classmates nodded as he heard Yongguk sing, making the others agree

You played the same song on your phone, humming to the tune as you found it from one of the recommended songs from the playlist you listened to the night before. Your roommate noticed you hum to the song while in the bus and couldn’t help but ask what song it was since it had also sparked her curiosity

“Hey, what song is that?” she tapped your shoulder and you put down one of the earphones to look at her

“It’s by an artist I’ve been into these days. His name’s Crush, and the song’s called Don’t Forget.” you chuckled in response, and she just nodded as you went back to listening to the song, humming to its tune as you looked at the window on your way to school

In fact, because you have been listening to Crush since last night, you decided to go to the nearest record store after classes to get a copy of one of his albums. You went inside and realized the record store was playing Crush’s Fall, and you hummed to it as well since you loved it at first listen.

You walked around to find a copy of his album, noticing it to be at one of the RnB sections of the store. You looked around the albums in front of you to find the one you wanted and immediately put out your hand to grab it, only for another hand to plop on top of yours, making you pause as you looked to the side to see a young man wearing his earphones looking perplexed, turning to also look at you. You both suddenly froze as you looked at each other for a while before you realized he was literally holding your hand along with the album, him pulling back his hand and letting out a light, embarrassed chuckle as he scratched his head and tried to look away. You just giggled and looked down as you let loose your grip on the album and gave a small smile and looked down

“Um, sorry. I didn’t notice you were next to me…” he grinned awkwardly as he tried to look at you

“It’s fine. I was too busy listening to the music and I didn’t notice you either.” you nodded

“So, you like Crush…?” he blinked a couple of times before looking away

“I’ve recently started listening to him and I kept replaying a lot of his songs. So… yeah, I decided to get a copy of his latest album…” you sighed and smiled as you grabbed the album, and noticed it was lighter than usual

“I was actually singing to the song in the store too. I didn’t even realize it was the same song playing on my phone.” he grabbed his phone from his pocket to pause the music and try to look back at you

“Ah, there it is. Miss, I’m sorry, but that’s a dummy. We ran out of Crush’s latest release and we won’t be restocking until tomorrow.” one of the clerks said as he walked towards you

“Oh, I see. Here you go.” you gave the album to the clerk as he bowed and walked away

“Dang, and I wanted a physical copy.” the young man mumbled as he pouted, making you laugh a bit in response

“That makes two of us, then.” you said as you turned to look at him

“I’m Yongguk, by the way.” he gave a small wave

“Y/n.” you nodded as you waved back

“I should be going.” you waved again for a goodbye as you turned to walk away, until

“Do you… want to get some coffee, or something?” Yongguk suddenly blurted out, mentally slapping himself as he realized he was supposed to only say it in his mind, not with his mouth. You let out a snicker as you slowly turned to look at him, where he felt his palms become sweaty from what he had just done

“I’d love to.” you smiled widely, his heart beating faster at the proper sight of your face, beginning to believe in love at first sight.

#jbj #kim yongguk #jin longguo #jbj scenarios #jbj imagines #jbj reactions #kim yongguk scenarios #kim yongguk imagines #jin longguo scenarios #jin longguo imagines #kim yongguk reactions #jin longguo reactions

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kyulkyungs · 7 years

Text

Time

Character(s): Boo Seungkwan

Genre: Angst >:] + a soulmate!au!!!!

Word Count: 4,123 (aHHH I LOVE DEATH this thing is 7 pages)

Summary: Lets grow old - Until you are eighteen you grow normally, if you do not meet your soulmate before eighteen you will be stuck as eighteen until you can meet them. (The source is no longer available as the blog has most likely deactivated :(… )

A/N: I love soulmate AU’s, and I don’t see a lot of content out there for Seungkwan. I mean, do you see this wonderful, absolutely lovely man? Give him all of your love or so help me !!!! Gosh…… I let this get long……… oops ?

Who knows how long it’s been? How long you’ve been wandering on the face of the earth. Any records of you are so old – some even lost – that you could be considered unidentifiable. It sucked, to be frank. When all of your friends and family found their soulmates, you were able to live such happy times. Going to their weddings, helping setting up anniversaries… seeing them age and grow up.

And here you were: stuck in the body of an 18-year old. Sure, it was kind of weird to see your friends and their soulmates age to their thirties while you stayed behind. Sure, it was funky when your cousin, ten years younger than you, invited you to their wedding with an older face and physique than you. Sure, it was completely devastating and heartbreaking when your family and friends aged until they just couldn’t anymore.

But you were moving on because it’s kind of what you had to do.

You were sure that there were not very many cases like yours. If there were then people didn’t make such a big deal out of it anyways. With new passing faces in your life, you saw the shock on their faces when you told them how old you were turning that year.

In your spare time, you decided to explore the world. Some of your favorite places you had lived in for a couple of years before choosing to continue exploring. Your soulmate wasn’t someone you were focused on finding during that time. The universe would have it’s way eventually. So for now, you tried to entertain yourself. At least you could use the phrase “back in my day” with genuine meaning.

“It’s been a while,” you said, shuffling around a bustling city and looking up at the tall buildings. Korea. How you’ve missed the way the air smells, how the people sound, and how the sun shines here. The last time you’ve been here? Say around two hundred years ago. The last ten years you had spent touching up on your French and enjoying learning some of the slang there. After seeing some scholars gushing about some Korean singers and saying very broken phrases, you told yourself that it was time to revisit Korea. You had avoided Korea for some time due to an unknown reason.

Maybe it was your stubbornness that relearning the now enhanced and changed language would take a while. Maybe it was your falling in love with someone there once, but only to have them find their soulmate right after declaring your feelings. Or maybe it was because you always found something else that seemed more convenient. Like learning the majority of the French dialects were more convenient… It was most definitely the second reason. Besides, when you heard about how great someone’s trip there for a year was, you had to go check out how much had changed.

Well, at least you could dive into yet another language. You could use the change. Plus that one person who lived across from you held parties every other weekend or had someone over to do something. Being semi-immortal meant you lived through and miraculously, and thankfully, survived through various wars. But those parties? No thanks. You’ve had enough screaming and loud banging – pun intended – to last you a lifetime or twenty.

You finally stopped in front of a big building. A few of the nicer apartment complexes in the area. The location was convenient for you. Not too far from a new workplace that accepted you due to knowing quite a handful of languages. The perks of living in different areas for so long without having to worry about losing time. Your soulmate was bound to show up soon, so why not make the most of it until then? The interview over the phone went swell, and the trip you took for only a week to do the interview in person went even better. Yet being here for only a week and for a job interview meant you didn’t have too much time to explore.

So you were lost.

“Do you need help?” The pronunciation was a little different than the dialect you were already used to hearing all around you. It was a young man. His kind smile amazed you, yet it reminded you of the person you fell in love with so long ago. Perhaps that was the reason why.

“I’m looking for this building,” you responded, showing him your phone with a GPS app set onto your new workplace.

“Oh! You can turn right down this road and walk straight. It’ll be there since there are large, striking letters above the front door.” He made hand motions just to be clear, and then bid you farewell after you thanked him. He watched you go down the road just in case someone tried anything or didn’t follow his directions correctly. Then he walked to where he was headed to in the first place.

“I hope to work well with you,” you greeted warmly. The other staff members of the building smiled back at you.

“It’s amazing though. That long, huh?”

Grimly, you nodded. Although by now it would seem that you’d be used to hearing people ask that, you’d laugh in the person’s face who said that. If anything, you absolutely hated it when someone pointed out how long you’ve been roaming the earth because you weren’t able to meet your soulmate.

When would the time come where you could finally meet and pass on? Was there a possibility that your soulmate was in the same condition as you were? Or did the universe make it so that your soulmate would meet you in another time than from the time when you were born?

The universe could be cruel.

The people you met with let you go to take a tour of the building. They had one of the other workers guide you through. After a series of rooms, a series of stairs, and making a stop to the restroom, you were finally introduced to one of the two groups you’d act as a translator for.

The first group was a bundle of rowdy, yet very polite and loving girls. They welcomed you in and even decided to test out how many languages you could speak for them. In a couple practice rooms away, you could hear a lot of yelling and stomping.

“You hear that? That’s the company’s most popular group.” When the two of you walked a little closer to the room, the sound of music was heard along with the shouting. They were counting off the tempo to the music as well as calling out names for corrections. There was a lot more seriousness and intensity compared to the first group that you could feel just right outside the door.

The door opened and both of you walked in, greeting the boys who had taken a break just in time for the sudden interruption. There were a lot of them, that’s for sure. All sweating and panting, hands on their hips or the tops of their heads. They each lined up in greeting, just like how the girls had done. You eyed each of them to get a feel of who you were going to be working with.

“Hey, we met before,” you pointed out. One of the boys shyly nodded and then waved with a small smile. The others looked back and forth and some made noises of realization.

“So that’s who you helped out today? What a coincidence, huh?” The man in question nodded and then puffed up with pride.

“That’s Seungkwan.” The other staff member pointed to your previous aid. You locked eyes with him and when you smiled… it felt right. The other members then introduced themselves and listed their position in the team, even adding in a few jokes. They told you that you’d help out with translating lyrics like you would be with the ten females. After the introduction, you gave a brief demonstration of what you could do for them. Some of them found it amusing while the others found it extremely impressive, when you said a tongue twister to perfection.

“How did you do that? I’ve been working on that since I was a kid!”

You laughed, eyes twinkling when you answered. “Honey. I was the one who thought of it first.”

Your impression lasted on the boys quite a bit, as they often found themselves enjoying their breaks even more when you visited to do a check on vocal practices or recordings. You’d swing by to listen to pronunciation or how the lyrics sound when being read aloud as a sentence. The one person who never failed to impress you was Seungkwan himself. He had clear pronunciation whenever you came to check, and even challenged you when you tried to correct something in a verse by proving to you why the words worked out. When you praised him after a session, he was extremely humble about it. He even told you that it would also be better to praise those to helped him out instead, motioning over to his family.

It was after a single session, where only one member at a time would be practicing with you, was when Seungkwan finally gathered the courage to have a proper conversation with you that wasn’t small talk nor about work.

“When you said you made up that tongue twister a long time ago, did you really?” You nodded, pleased when his eye widened and then he covered his mouth dramatically. He was trying to make you laugh, and it was working.

“I’ve lived here for a long time, so I’ve seen a lot of things pass me by. I made that up when I was watching a street performer chanting something in a peculiar way.” Seungkwan nodded and then thought for a moment.

“So what was the performer saying for you to think of that tongue twister?”

“What? The street performer was setting up. I was thinking about food so I made the tongue twister about food,” you said. Seungkwan laughed and let the joyous melody ring in your ears. You decided that you’d love to keep talking with him more.

Seungkwan worked harder and harder in order to impress and please you. He also wanted to hear your praise and to be able to talk with you after establishing that he did not need much to work on after that lesson. He tried hard for you, and it warmed your heart greatly. Time spent with him was gone way too quickly.

It seemed that you enjoyed your time with him greatly, and he had the same feeling as well.

After a certain practice with him, you found yourself wondering about Seungkwan’s situation. He obviously knew that you were around for a long time, given the story of when you created a well-known tongue twister and the fact that you rarely worried about your appearance when going out to eat with coworkers or newly made friends. But how long had Seungkwan been around?

“Seungkwan,” you called out softly, trying not to startle him when he took a sip of water. He finished and capped the bottle. He motioned for you to go on and you bit the inside of your cheek, wondering if you should ask the question or not. You decided that you would. “Have you met your soulmate yet?”

Seungkwan pursed his lips and darted his eyes around. Eventually he shook his head. “No. It’s been about two or three years.”

You understood what he was referring to. He’s not aged for two or three years, meaning that he was still young, still genuinely young. “You’d be turning twenty or so then.” He nodded and looked off at the wall in a somewhat dazed look. “Did I ask something too personal?” He shook his head this time, even moving his hands in a dismissive, shaking manner.

“Not at all.” He gave you a smile, a smile much softer and more genuine than his smiles he showed you when joking around with the others. This conversation turned more serious and personal, more intimate. He sighed softly and then allowed himself a couple more seconds of looking into your eyes. The atmosphere between the two of you grew intense yet comforting. You were the one to break eye contact first, moving to shuffle some of your notes.

A knock on the door sounded and Joshua peeked in. “Is it my time yet?”

Quickly you collected your things and shuffled the papers some more, only looking up when Seungkwan got up from his seat. He thanked you and then walked out. Joshua took his seat across from you and smiled warmly with his eyes crinkling at the corners. And with that, you began your session with him.

The rest of the following three months you noticed you had grown more tired, but your time spent working with such wonderful people made up for it. Getting up from your seat, you decided it was time for a bathroom break. It was a quick one, where most of the time spent was washing your face. Your eyes had grown slightly bloodshot from lack of sleep. Before you left the bathroom you took a second glance at yourself in the mirror. Something was different. Different than the last time you really checked yourself in the mirror. You moved closer and turned your face this way and that, trying to see what was different about yourself. It was too hard to tell, most likely something subtle and something that would take a while for you to realize. So you left the bathroom.

You bumped into Seungkwan when you exit the bathroom. Literally. He steadied the both of you and made sure you were alright, then sending you another warm smile. “I was just looking for you.”

“Really, now?” You sent a warm smile back, standing comfortably with his presence. You realized earlier on in the months that you found yourself most at ease with Seungkwan. A familiar feeling to when you were truly younger crept it’s way back to you. Something that kind of scared you yet you were ready to embrace. He answered with a nod and then turned his face around, similar to the way you were doing it just minutes ago in the bathroom.

“Do I look different? The others pointed out that my face looks different than before.” Because he kept moving around and not letting you get a proper look at him you grabbed Seungkwan’s face and made him look at you head on. Under the palms of your hands you felt his cheeks grow warm which in turn made yours as well as your heart warm up too. You removed your hands slowly and swept your eyes across his face. The others were right, there was something different about him. Maybe it was the way his cheeks looked a little smaller than before, or, to put it into better words, he was growing into them. He had less of a baby face than before you noticed. While you were staring at him, Seungkwan had been staring at you as well. “You look different too.”

You hummed, turning his face yourself so you could inspect further. He did the same with you, making it harder on the both of you at some points due to your faces being shown in different directions. He was beginning to get playful with this now. “In what ways do I look different?” He hummed this time.

“Your face.”

“That’s what you’ve been inspecting the last minute or two, yes.” He smiled and stopped moving your face. You followed his lead and stopped as well, leaving your hands on his cheeks just like how he did with his hands.

“I mean your face looks different.” You shrugged, shoulders bumping his arms slightly.

“I think some stress and fatigue have been getting to me lately.” Seungkwan shook his head, loosening your hands even more. Before they fell off he stopped moving, as if he wanted to keep them on.

“It’s not that. Not that at all.” He studied your face again. “You look more mature.” A small spark was felt when you took your hands from his face and placed it over his own. Carefully you moved both pairs of hands away from his. A moment of intense eye contact and then you pulled away. Though you pulled away from him at that moment, you felt like you had just gotten that much closer to him overall.

The next session you had with Seungkwan would be the last for the month before you’d switch schedules and start working with the other members and some of the girls more. Of course, Seungkwan knew this too as he had to be notified so he wouldn’t walk in on an ongoing vocal session with someone else.

“Ready?” You asked with a grin. He nodded and took his place in the seat across from you. He seemed grim and a little disappointed, which you deducted must be from having to not see you for a while. You listened to his pronunciation in lyrics from a different language and corrected him on some parts every now and then. Overall he had improved greatly since your first session with him. It was super awkward at first, but Seungkwan managed to save the both of you by making a joke about how much tension there was in the air and then purposely making fun of himself in an attempt to make you laugh.

Instead he had an earful about how he should not speak badly about himself like that and that you found his awkwardness with you to be quite endearing rather than a pain.

“I have a proposal to make,” Seungkwan said right after you finished writing down the last of your notes before the session. When you looked up from your notes you saw that Seungkwan had his eyes trained heavily on you. He had trapped you. “I still want to see you.” Before you could reply – you couldn’t anyways because you were rendered speechless – Seungkwan grabbed both of your hands and had a desperate look in his eyes. “Please.”

You quickly collected yourself and looked down at his warm hands encasing yours. “Seungkwan, you’ll still see me everyday. I work here.”

“Not just that. I’ll miss you. I don’t want to see you just because of work,” he said. He saw the clear look of confusion on your face and he grew red and looked down suddenly. “I mean… I want to hang out with you more. Outside of work.” You found yourself smiling at the proposed date between the two of you. So you agreed.

The first outing was simply coffee. Seungkwan got himself an americano and you whatever you had decided to drink. The two of you chatted and enjoyed the fine weather that day. Though it was a simple date, you had a lot of fun.

The second one consisted of the two of you cleaning up the practice room together since Seungkwan was the one to lose the rock paper scissors battle this time. Not exactly date worthy, but by the end of the night the two of you had to clean up more than you had originally started with. Hey, who said that mops couldn’t be used as helicopter propellers?

A third date swung around, but the two of you were joined with a couple of the others as well. A fun day at the park where you were invited to film for an ongoing series to let fans know what’s been going on. Seungkwan commented on how well you used the camera considering you had never done so before. He even defended you when the others tried to joke saying that for an old person, you handled technology quite well. Not that you minded, but the thought was appreciated.

A couple of fun times out with Seungkwan later was when you realized that you were looking more different each time you checked yourself in the mirror. It was like before, how you’d notice the subtleties to it. But now it was becoming more and more obvious. You were definitely looking much older. Without really meaning to, you were thrown into a fit of joyous laughter. Had you finally found your soulmate? Seungkwan. Oh, Boo Seungkwan. The polite, gentle, funny, and sassy at times young man who you had grown much closer than you would have thought. Was he your soulmate?

All the feelings you experienced around him you found to be intense. Your feelings back then were intense as well but entirely false. Now? It felt even more intense than from the years prior. You had to tell him. Because if he hasn’t brought it up yet surely he didn’t know. He often found himself speaking his thoughts to you on multiple occasions already, so it must have been that way.

Thinking of a way to tell him without being too blunt, you sat there and racked your brain for ideas. Straight up confrontation would make the situation completely awkward, especially if it was around the other members. You wanted the news to settle in. Using the phone to call or text him… a definite no-no. Maybe… you would write him a note. Perhaps you’d leave it where you know he’d be the first to find and see it. Or give it to him in person. Whichever came first.

The note was simple, a little confession at the sudden revelation. A couple of doodles here and there, much like the doodles you found only on the papers related to the singer himself. Your name was signed at the end of it. That was the note you’d give to him, for sure.

You decided that you would place the note in your desired location now rather than wait and end up not having enough time to plan what to do. You’d put it in the room where you had most of your sessions with the members. Seungkwan liked to sit in the chairs there and warm up sometimes. Otherwise he’d pass through there. The brightly colored note would catch his eyes as it contrasted to the colors around it.

The hallways were pretty empty when you walked through them. A sudden surge of excitement urged you to walk faster. You slowly opened up the door and peeked in, checking to see if anyone was there. You did not hear or see anyone in the room, so you stepped in quietly. Until you heard words that made you freeze.

“I think you’re my soulmate.”

That’s when you saw Seungkwan smiling warmly at Hansol, eyes glossy with unshed tears of happiness. Hansol had grown into a smile as well, reaching to hold Seungkwan’s hand. Had they always been this close? Upon further inspection you found that, yes, both he and Hansol seemed so much more closer than the two of you ever could have been. The twinkling eyes, the warmest of smiles, the flushed cheeks. Something you realized was only felt by you.

Once again, the universe decided to be cruel.

It seemed that Hansol had realized that his connection with Seungkwan was much deeper than he – and both you and Seungkwan – thought it to be. His young face looked more manly than before, and Seungkwan more different than the last time you had gazed at him so intensely. The two were sitting on the couch with wide smiles, wider than you’d ever seen them smile before, with flushed cheeks and fleeting eyes. Hansol had just confessed what he realized to be him having the soulmate connection with Seungkwan.

Time for you was frozen as you watched Seungkwan hug Hansol tightly and then release him, only to hug him again shortly afterwards. They were glowing.

You watched Seungkwan move over a little and cuddle into Hansol’s side, shyly peppering a kiss or two on his cheek. You had just watched the person you had fallen in love with find their true love for a second time. Tuning on your heel, you quietly left the room so you would’t disturb them. The scene of the familiar hallways from years and years and years ago flashed before your eyes. Even the same blurry vision from tears you had refused to let down.

The messily scrawled confession note of words you would be too nervous to say was thrown away in the trash bin near the end of the hall. Eyes were wiped, a quick sniffle was made, and you held your head up high.

Time to move on.

#elli writes #angst #soulmate au #seungkwan #neutral pronouns #seventeen #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #svt scenarios

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writesaboutbangtan17 · 7 years

Text

what I found in you | 01

jungkook x reader slight angst, smut

12,820 words

a/n: remember that time i posted a long list of fic ideas n stuff i was writing and this wasn’t on it? oops! this was originally gonna be a oneshot but things got way out of hand so, please forgive me for taking two months to write a 12K part one, i know i’m garbage. the next part will have a lot more angst so prepare yourselves, and once again thx @mysoftae this would never have come to fruition without you ;(

~ in which your ridiculously hot, annoying brat of a roommate keeps you up at all hours of the night, takes up all your space, is essentially trying to ruin your life, and is intent on sticking his dick in you

You had always liked living alone.

There were no one’s dishes to wash but your own, you could play your music as loud as you wanted, the only person you had to worry about your cat liking was yourself, nobody could complain about what spices you stunk up the place with, and most importantly, you never had to wear pants.

You would have been content to live alone for the rest of your sad, lonely life enjoying nothing but those small pleasures.

Then one day there was Jeon Jungkook, on his knees, hands clasped beneath his chin, looking up at you with those wide, glittering brown eyes of his. Maybe you would have said no if he hadn’t been blocking you up against the door to the library, if there hadn’t been a line of people building up behind him complaining about the two of you being in their way, if he actually would have moved when you grabbed his shoulder and tried to shove him to the side with all of your strength. That kid had been working out a little too much.

Also, he was begging. That might have had something to do with it.

He came with only his backpack, a few boxes full of clothes and books and things, three pairs of boots tied together and slung over his shoulder, and his PS4—he didn’t ask for help carrying any of it, just showed up outside your door with all of it piled up in his arms at once. Your guest bedroom already had a bed and a dresser for him, and you had saved up for a pretty nice TV in the living room, and that was all he needed otherwise.

The first few weeks having a roommate were...different. Your cat seemed to like him, always disappearing into his room and deciding you were no longer worth her time. He kicked his shoes off right in front of the door for you to trip on every morning and every night, and even when he knew you were going grocery shopping, he never told you that he’d finished off the carton of milk or eggs.

With Jungkook came all of his friends. There were six of them in particular who came around more than most, but you didn’t really mind them. Jin cooked for you, and Hoseok could never help himself from tidying up any of the common living areas; Taehyung was nice to look at, you’d never met anyone kinder than Jimin, and Yoongi kept them all in check; Namjoon was fine as long as he sat on the couch and didn’t touch anything the whole time he was over. Your apartment was never without one or two of them, and now you always had to wear pants.

But he washed his own dishes and never asked you to turn your music down, so as long as he was taking a load off of your bills, you would survive. Jungkook never did tell you why he had so desperately, immediately needed a place to stay, and you never thought to ask why none of his other friends would take him in.

It took two months for you to start figuring that out for yourself.

You’d been living with him for nine weeks the first time it happened.

The first year in your graduate program was kicking your ass, but by the grace of God you had crawled beneath your covers before 2 A.M. and your only plans for tomorrow were to sleep in until noon, order a pizza, and lay in bed all day.

At least that was the plan until your eyes popped open at the sound of whatever the fuck coming from outside your door and down the hall. The alarm clock on your bedside table told you that it was 3:24 A.M. It took a minute for your consciousness to wade through the swampy, dreamy haze and register exactly what the unholy noise filling up what should have been your dead silent apartment was.

“Naaants ingonyama bagithi baba!”

He’d been watching The Lion King when you got home from work.

“Jeon Jungkook, do you want to die!?” You screeched, throwing your comforter off of your legs and wobbling on your feet in a half-asleep stupor as you pursued the object of your despair. His singing only got louder after you shoved your door open and let it slam against the wall, and you started a list in your head of the all the easiest ways you could kill him and who you could call to help get rid of the body.

Jimin was probably your best option. He’d been looking for any good reason to attack Jungkook since he’d needed him to come get something off of a high shelf in your kitchen a couple of days ago, and Jungkook had called him a “little nugget.”

The sound of his voice brought you stumbling into the living room, where he sat on the couch in the dark, screaming the lyrics so hard he must have been hurting himself instead of singing at this point. You smacked blindly against the wall, relieved to feel a switch and flicking it upwards. The room filled with soft yellow light from overhead, and Jungkook’s “singing” stopped as suddenly as it had begun. He slowly turned to look at you with those doe eyes, shining with the most glaringly insincere innocence and remorse.

“Oh, sorry noona, did I wake you?”

You blinked at him once, twice, and let him believe for a moment that you wouldn’t actually do him any bodily harm.

“I’m going to castrate you,” you answered him quietly, and then lunged, tackling him back into the couch cushions. With the advantage of being on top, you reached down to wrap both of your hands around his neck.

“Who do you think you are!” You demanded, keeping the pressure on his throat light, “I let you live here and this is how you repay me, you brat!” Jungkook just laughed as his much larger hands wrapped around your wrists and easily pried you off of him, before shifting his upper body weight to his shoulders and lifting his hips.

“What are you—oomph,” you were cut off as your back hit the carpet, realizing just a moment too late that Jungkook had rolled the two of you onto the floor and now had you pinned beneath him. He was holding your arms down by your head with an iron grip, and your legs were trapped between his absurdly meaty thighs, and you could barely move. You’d have to go into his room and throw all his weights out the window next time he went out and left you—

“It’s the circle of life, and it moves us all!” He’d leaned in so close to you that the tips of your noses brushed. It was easy to ignore the heat on your cheeks at his close proximity when you could smell the...peanuts and chili peppers on his breath.

“Jeon Jungkook, were you eating my Chinese food again?!”

There, on the coffee table, was your previously half-eaten quart of kung pao chicken. You knew it was yours because you had taken special care to write your initials on every side of it, and the top and even the bottom—you’d noticed Jungkook had a special talent for eating everything that wasn’t explicitly yours, but obviously wasn’t his, that way he could talk himself out of it if he got caught.

You’d been so excited to eat that for lunch tomorrow, and Jungkook was just giggling at the frown that pulled your lips down low on your face.

His offenses on the night were just piling up, but up to that point had been reasonably forgivable. Then he took it one step further, moving both of your wrists into just one of his hands and stabbing two fingers right into your ribs.

Your involuntary peals of distressed laughter rang through the room, knocking off the ceiling and the walls and surrounding the both of you. If the way the corners of Jungkook’s lips quirked up was any indication, he was enjoying your pain and suffering. He knew exactly where to jab and poke to make you scream.

“Jung...kook!...please, I...I-I’m fucking begging you, you.....you fuck...fucking demon!” Getting any words in around the heaves that had once been laughs, trying to suck oxygen back in and relieve your aching lungs, was no simple task. Jungkook did stop, finally, but his eyes were narrowed and his lip curled and you knew that he wasn’t done torturing you just yet.

“What did you call me? A demon? Noona, that’s just mean,” he mocked you, “now where else are you ticklish...behind your knee, right?” He leaned back to cup your calf in his hand, then ghosted his touch up your leg, leaving goosebumps behind his fingertips’ trail. You thrashed to the side to get away from him, and realized that his stance had opened up the space between his thighs just so—you jerked your leg up with every intention of kneeing him in the balls and leaving him infertile, but Jungkook was quick, sitting back down on your legs with all of his weight to stop you.

His move backfired.

A moan ripped through the night.

Your leg was trapped, still wedged between his thighs, and dug hard into the dick hidden in his sweatpants. You could feel it twitch against your knee.

“Oh, fuck,” Jungkook wheezed, both of his hands immediately letting you go as he clambered up and backed away. You couldn’t look him in the eye, so you turned your head towards the TV. The cable box read 4 A.M. So much for your night of tranquil, undisturbed rest.

“I, uh,” he started and immediately stopped, smart enough to know there was nothing he could say that wouldn’t make the situation even more embarrassing for either of you. You just dipped a nod down at him, then stood and rushed back down the hall to your bedroom. As you passed him, you noticed from the corner of your eye that he had to cover the beginnings of an erection with his hands.

It was a sight that kept you up the rest of the night.

Your phone rang at 7 A.M., and it was your boss calling you into work at the last minute because one of your co-workers was sick. You scratched ‘order a pizza and lay in bed all day’ off the mental two-item list of things you’d needed to maintain the appearance of sanity as you wandered around your room, somehow stepping out of it in your uniform with your hair and teeth brushed. You were barely conscious as you dragged yourself downstairs and to your car—you didn’t know how you made it to work or back in one piece.

Jungkook made himself scarce for the next few days, for which you were thankful. Between your rage at him for stealing away what would have been your first and last peaceful night of the semester and your mortification at violating him, it was best that you didn’t have to see him for a little while. Eventually you willed yourself to forget about the whole thing, and sooner rather than later, things around the apartment went back to normal.

Some people say things always get worse before they get better, but in your experience, things always got better before they became dramatically worse.

After knowing him for two years and living with him for several months, you were shocked that there were still things for you to learn about Jungkook. It was mostly little things, like how he hated black olives (he refused to eat a pizza you brought home for dinner even after pulling off all the little slivers, as if the taste of them would linger over the cheese and sauce) or how he knew all the words to every Britney Spears song you could demand that he sing (at 3 A.M., instead of Disney renaissance movie soundtracks).

Some of these new discoveries excited you, some terrified you, some made you angry or sad or happy or confused, but none had ever affected you quite as much as when you found out that Jungkook could dance.

Jimin was one of the top performers in his university’s ballet program, and Hoseok taught at a local studio and performed with a street crew, but Jungkook had never done anything outside of his shitty retail job and graphic design major that enlightened you to his secret talent. It was possible you never would have found out if Hoseok hadn’t come around pounding on your door one morning, ranting and raving about a competition his crew wanted to enter with a hefty monetary prize on the line, but was one member short of being qualified for.

That was where Jungkook came in.

You had already told Hoseok you’d go see him at the competition, but your eyes were on Jungkook the whole time. With only a few weeks of practice, he outshone almost everybody he danced alongside. You knew Jungkook was good at everything that he tried to do, but this was more than that—you were clearly watching him do something that he was meant to do.

He stepped out for somebody else to fill the spot after the competition, but he started going to Hoseok’s studio a couple nights a week after that, dancing with his friends just for fun. It was a simple story—he’d been on a dance team in high school, they’d won their fair share of championships and Jungkook had considered studying dance in college, but in the end had dropped it in pursuit of something more realistic. It broke your heart to hear that he just didn’t think he was good enough at it, when you had seen so clearly otherwise with your own two eyes.

As sympathetic as you were, that didn’t keep you from being annoyed when Jungkook brought dancing home. Of all places, he made his own studio out of the kitchen, and especially liked to gyrate and twirl around in the tight space when it was occupied by somebody (usually Jin) trying to cook around his choreography. There had been lots of close calls with Jin having to duck underneath an incoming dab as he carried a pot of pasta and scalding water to the sink to drain, or struggling to get around Jungkook attempting to spin on his shoulders on the floor to get to a pan of something burning on the stove.

Jungkook never found anything wrong with all of this, of course. When he asked where else he was supposed to dance, and you suggested literally anywhere else, he’d just pat your head as he insisted there was nowhere else in the house with enough space and decent flooring. He couldn’t spin on his shoulders on the living room carpet, obviously.

Four months to the day after Jungkook moved in, the dancing epidemic reached its breaking point. It was his 21st birthday, and even though he wanted to throw a wild party or go club hopping all night, it fell on a Tuesday. None of his friends felt like partying after a long day at school or work, before another long day of school or work. He’d spent hours moping when he realized this, and was just barely pacified by the compromise that you’d have a nice dinner that night, instead, and then you’d all take him out that weekend.

He’d accepted this, but only with whines and stomps of his feet.

You weren’t much of a cook, but found yourself sauteing beef at the stove regardless, as Jin bustled around behind you, throwing a dash of salt into this and giving that a vicious stir and overall acting like preparing this meal was the most stressful, grueling thing he’d ever had to do. He’d cooked for you and Jungkook dozens of times, but that night he was holding himself to a different standard—under no circumstances could he disappoint his youngest and most precious dongsaeng.

“Is it almost done?” Namjoon asked from the doorway, but before he could set foot over the threshold, Jin had spun around and was whipping the towel he’d had thrown over his shoulder at him.

“Put your hands up! Take three steps back! Don’t touch anything!” The younger man relented, settling back deep into the hallway. Jin turned back to whatever he was mixing, mumbling manically to himself about trying to cut onions with the blunt side of a knife and catching ovens on fire and accidentally getting pancakes stuck on the ceiling.

There was a strict no Namjoon in the kitchen rule for many good reasons.

“Ok, well, Jungkook is on his third beer already,” Namjoon had to half-shout so you could hear him, and his statement was punctuated by a bellowing yeeeeeaaaaah, boooooy! from the living room. The boys had agreed to indulge Jungkook in a Mario Kart tournament, and were all graciously letting him win every round��the drunker he got, the less obvious that was and the more taunting and ruthless he became.

“Keep him under control!” Jin snapped, “We are not dying in here just for him to pass out in the soup!” You had decided to make the seaweed soup yourself when Jungkook told you it was the first birthday he’d be spending away from his parents, and his mom had given you her recipe over the phone that morning. He’d been pleasantly absent from the kitchen while you soaked the seaweed, marinated the beef, and made a stock, but you knew he’d be in there sooner or later in his best attempts at ruining everything.

“He just keeps screaming that he’s an adult and he’ll call the cops if we don’t let him have another beer,” Namjoon informed him, “and Taehyung keeps giving him shots of tequila, and I think Jimin was drunk before he even got here and he keeps trying to make out with Yoongi, pretty sure Hoseok is getting ready to fight him.” Jin immediately threw down his rag and started untying the knot keeping his apron on around his waist.

“You’re hopeless, Joon,” Jin sighed, “it’s like I’m raising these kids all on my own!” Then he was brushing past him into the living room in an attempt to temper the situation, Namjoon was hurrying after him, and you were left alone—with your pan of beef, three different pots on the stove, several bowls of mysterious concoctions scattered across the counter, two dishes in the oven...

There was yelling from the direction the pair had gone, hysterical laughter, the sound of someone being choke slammed into the floor, and then silence...until Chris Brown was blasting through the apartment. Cold dread sliced down your spine as you knew exactly what was coming next, eyes darting one way and then the other, surveying your surroundings for something, anything you could use to block the one way into the kitchen.

But then a pot was boiling over, a timer was going off on the other side of the kitchen, and Jin was yelling at you, “Y/N, take the cake out of the oven now!” It was as you were backing up with the cake in your hand that you sensed it, and when you turned to place the cake on the counter, there was he was body rolling by the sink.

“That looks good, noona,” Jungkook purred at you, and you sent a quick prayer to whatever higher power was watching over you for help dealing with him drunk. He didn’t drink much, and usually when he did, he ended up staying with one of the boys, so this was new territory for you.

“You know I like dancing in here,” he said, as if you needed the reminder, “are you gonna say that I can’t? On my birthday?” You gathered the strength to ignore him as you took the icing from where Jin had placed it in the fridge and began to spread it over the vanilla cake, wondering when the older boy would return, hoping he wasn’t reffing an actual fist fight in your living room. There were breakables in there.

You kept your eyes trained on the task at hand, but could sense Jungkook twerking in your direction from your peripheral vision.

“Oh, god, here he is,” Jin moaned as he came back into the kitchen, bee lining for his jajjangmyeon simmering on the stove, “don’t come near me, Jungkook, I swear to God.” The birthday boy paid no mind to his hyung—all of his concentration was on undulating at your side, and when the cake was properly iced and you had turned back to your soup, he took up the spot behind you and...starting grinding.

Against your ass.

He’s drunk! It’s his birthday! Your brain screamed at you, but you couldn’t decide if either of those were reasons to make him stop or to just let him keep going. “Nooooona, dance with me...” He whined into your ear, placing both of his hands on your waist and trying to move your body against his. You shot up another quick prayer that Jin didn’t look at the two of you.

“I can’t dance, Kookie,” you said in a soft voice, but still let him move your hips as he pleased, “I’m trying to cook.” He had moved so close you could feel his rising body heat through both of your shirts, and his nose was trailing up the curve of your neck, nudging behind your ear...damn Taehyung and those shots of tequila. You were going to kill him the next time you saw him sober.

“Jungkook, where’d you go!” Speak of the devil and he shall appear—Taehyung burst into the kitchen with Jimin hot on his heels, a disinterested Yoongi and a stoic Hoseok trailing behind them. Namjoon was nowhere to be seen, probably because Jin would just kick him out again, anyways.

“Oooh, he’s d-dancing with Y/N,” Jimin cooed, or tried to coo but was interrupted by a hiccup. The idiot could barely stand up straight as he leaned his entire weight against Taehyung’s back. “Kitchen dance party!” Taehyung announced, twirling around to wind his arms around Jimin, and the pair began to perform an elaborate waltz on the other side of the island from you and Jungkook.

You were never letting those two back into your apartment.

Hoseok seemed appeased, forcing Yoongi into a half-tango-half-dance-battle, and you were at least relieved that they were all so busy with each other they didn’t notice what you immediately did—the feeling of Jungkook growing hard against you.

ABORT MISSION, you screamed internally, MUST EXTRICATE MYSELF FROM THIS SITUATION AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE. But figuring out how to get away from him without any of the other five boys in the kitchen noticing his semi and raining a hellfire of teasing and shame upon the two of you was no easy task.

“It’s ok, noona,” Jungkook sighed over your shoulder, and his boozy breath fanned out over your chest, “just daaance with meee...”

It was definitely not ok.

“Oh, Y/N, your seaweed soup looks really good!” Jin suddenly popped up at your side, seemingly unperturbed by Jungkook’s dance moves—the glossy look in his eyes signaling he had totally mentally checked out, the stress pushing him into a numb subspace devoid of any fucks towards the grinding going on. “Give Jungkookie a taste!” This sounded like the absolute last thing you wanted to do, the worst thing you could do, but without a good excuse not to, you slowly twisted around with a spoonful of soup and held it upwards without daring to look at Jungkook’s face.

The weight of the soup on the spoon stayed as it was, and Jin laughed, “How are you supposed to get it in his mouth if you won’t even look at him,” and you immediately regretted it when you did. There was something in his eyes that you had never seen there before—something dark, predatory. His pupils were blown wide and the moment your head tilted upwards at him, he was scanning your whole face before his eyes dipped down to observe every curve of the rest of you.

Just as you had decided to make a break for it and leave Jungkook to deal with the humiliation of his erection all on his own, he finally leaned forward and wrapped his tongue around the spoon, sucking it into his mouth. His gaze pierced directly into yours again as he licked every drop off of it and then some, watching the way your breathing picked up in response to the way his tongue moved.

“Uh, Y/N, are you alright?” You didn’t even realize your jaw was dropped, eyes were wide, and chest was heaving until Hoseok had twirled Yoongi over to you and was staring at the scene before him in equal parts concern and disgust. The spell was broken as the spoon popped out of Jungkook’s mouth, and you dropped it to the floor with a clatter so both of your hands were free to shove him away.

“No!” You cried, slipping behind him to put more space between yourself and your drunk, hot, ridiculously fucking irritating roommate, “I mean, yes, I’m fine! Fuck, I just—I just remembered I, I left something at work. Uh, my—my notes for that paper I was telling you about, I have to go get them. Right now.” None of the sober men pressed you about the obvious lie, Jin just rolling his eyes and tending to your soup, cursing Jungkook under his breath and probably Namjoon, too, finding some way to blame this whole mess on him.

Yoongi just watched you back out of the kitchen with a knowing smirk, and Hoseok was pushing Jungkook out into the hallway, but he kept his eyes on you until you rounded the corner out of his line of sight. Air raced back into your lungs—you hadn’t realized how hard it had been to breathe for the past fifteen minutes.

“Have fun doing whatever, Y/N! See you later!” Taehyung called out, sticking his head into the entrance way and observing you rushing out the door with your jacket half on and your shoes hanging off of your fingers. You narrowed your eyes at him and ripped the bottle of tequila out of his hand, essentially cutting the younger boys off for the night.

“I hope you’re ready to die the next time I see you,” you said and slammed the door shut before he could say anything more.

As always, Taehyung and Jimin had both left their doors to your shitty old car unlocked after you picked them up, so even though you’d left without your keys, you could still hole yourself up in the backseat for a few hours. You drowned yourself in what was left of the tequila, hoping it’d make you forget the feeling of Jungkook’s hardness against your ass, but had no such luck.

In the end, you just drunkenly rubbed one out. The orgasm was less than satisfying, with your focus divided between wondering how that hardness would feel between your legs, trying to imagine literally anything else, and keeping an eye out for anyone wandering around the parking lot. As inebriated as you were, you still didn’t want anyone to catch you masturbating in your car. You were pretty sure you could be arrested for that.

At least getting off put you to sleep, and sleeping helped pass the time. It was obnoxious pounding on your rear windshield that brought you back to half consciousness, and Jin was holding his phone up to the glass so you could see that it was past midnight already.

“I thought you’d go to a friend’s place or something,” you heard Yoongi’s voice from behind him, “this is just sad.” He wasn’t wrong about that. You threw the door open and stumbled out onto the asphalt, letting Hoseok put an arm around you to keep you on your feet and lead you over to his car.

“The kids are passed out in your living room, so you can stay with me tonight, if you want,” he offered, but didn’t wait for a yes or no before dumping you into his passenger’s seat.

The last thing you remembered was somehow getting the seat belt around your body and clicked into place before you woke up in his bed the next morning. You looked a complete mess, of course, as you met Hoseok in the kitchen where a bowl of cereal and several pills awaited you. He helped you pat down your hair and gave you a change of clothes, but you drew the limit at him saying he’d drive you back home. Hoseok was too nice for his own good.

You spent the entire Uber ride home begging whatever entity would listen to let the three stooges still be asleep when you got home, and for once luck was on your side. Taehyung was passed out in Jimin’s lap, and they were both draped across Jungkook’s back on the floor. It was a sight that would have warmed your heart if you didn’t hate them all so much.

You tiptoed through the living room and let out a breath of relief when you were behind the safety of your locked bedroom door. I can totally stay in here forever, you thought, what do I really need outside of this room? Food and water be damned, survival was not worth having to face Jungkook ever again. You could probably have anything you needed delivered by drone to your window until he moved out.

Unfortunately, in the real world there was still work and school to worry about, but you managed to sneak around your roommate for the next few days. Half the time he had school and work himself, but you had to give up fifty dollars that you really couldn’t afford to bribe Taehyung and Jimin into abducting him and keeping him busy whenever he had any free time.

For some reason, you had yourself convinced that if you made it to the weekend without seeing him, somehow, everything would reset. He’d go out clubbing with the boys, as promised, get blackout drunk and spend the night with one of them, and by the time he came to on Sunday morning, there could be no way he’d remember the kitchen grinding incident. It all made sense in your head.

Of course, that all went to shit, as things normally did since Jungkook moved in and his friends invaded your life. It was Hoseok who showed up on Saturday evening, after Jungkook had left with the twin terrors and you were in your pajamas already. He said he was cashing in the favor you owed him after he had helped you out on Tuesday night and Wednesday morning.

“Technically, I don’t owe you anything since I didn’t ask for your help,” you pointed out as he let himself in and rushed to your bedroom.

“And I technically saw you looking at Jungkook like you wanted to eat him alive,” Hoseok shot back, freezing you in your doorway. He was already in your closet, throwing your comfy sweaters and mom jeans this way and that.

“Holy shit, you’ve never tried to look sexy in your life, have you,” but he was mumbling to himself, and it wasn’t a statement worthy of an answer, anyways.

“I did not want to...I’m not attracted to Jungkook,” you said, a moment too late for it to sound like it was true, “I want to lock him in his room and ground him for the next several months for being gross and stupid on Tuesday, and that’s it.” Hoseok hummed back in fake agreement, before backing up out of your clothes with a pink maxi dress slung over one forearm and a black baby doll dress over the other.

“It’s so sad that these are the only two things you own that make you look younger than, like, 35,” he said, “just put one on so we can go.”

“Go where,” you hissed, grabbing them both and throwing them onto your bed, “I was actually about to go to sleep, so, if you don’t mind—”

“Go out with us, obviously,” Hoseok dropped down beside the dresses, grabbing a pillow to hopefully smother himself to death with. Instead, he just squished it underneath his head to make himself more comfortable as he waited.

And waited, and waited. You just stared at him like he’d grown a second eyeball in the middle of his forehead or like he’d turned purple or something.

“That’s really funny,” you finally said after several moments of waiting for him to let you in on the joke, “unless you point a gun to my head, that’s not happening.” You stepped towards your door to let him out, but on second thought—

“Actually, I think I’d rather let you shoot me than go out with you guys, so I don’t think there’s anything you could do to get me out of this apartment tonight.” You hadn’t known Hoseok for long, but the sight of him frowning just seemed so...wrong. Like his face wasn’t really his face any longer, like nothing in the world would ever be decent and good again if he didn’t start smiling again, or at least stop doing...whatever his lips were doing.

“Why do you even want me to go?!” You relented, at least a little bit—if he had a good enough reason, you’d give him a second of consideration. He immediately brightened up at your slightest budging.

“Well there’s this girl from the studio who I asked to come with,” he started, and you had already checked out again. Jungkook’s friends’ girl problems were not your concern. Still, you let him finish, “but she wasn’t really comfortable coming with just me and the guys, so I told her that you’d be there. This is my shot, I’ve been waiting months to ask her out!”

You knew telling him no would get him to make that weird, horrible, sad face again, but it had to be done—”Also, if you don’t come, I’m gonna tell everyone about how you masturbated in your car on Tuesday night.”

And you had thought Hoseok was a nice guy.

“Yeah, I saw that,” he told you, “Jin made me go check on you when he saw you left your keys. Don’t worry, I didn’t see anything, just your hand in your pants and you practically screaming Jungkook’s name. It was like, a gross hot? If you know what I mean?” Your dad had tried to convince you to buy a weapon when you moved away from home, and now was the first time since then that you wished you had. Anything to seriously maim the man sitting on your bed would have been welcomed.

Things were bad enough with the kitchen grinding incident. If Jungkook knew about the sad car masturbating, you’d really have to kick him out or end your own lease to get away from him, neither of which were valid, realistic options.

“Fuck you,” you spat at him, “get out so I can change.” He skipped out into the living room, screaming and clapping along the way, but when you shut your door he was back up on it screeching about which dress you should wear.

“The pink one is like a muumuu!” He insisted, “You can’t dance in that! Guys will literally run away from you if you wear it!” That almost made you want to wear the damn thing, but in the end, you walked out of your room in the black dress. You might not have if the pink dress had still fit you, but you had bought it three summers ago and it had barely fit you then, back when you cared at least a little bit about your body, before Jungkook and graduate school took away your will to live.

“I wore this to two funerals,” you told Hoseok as he looked at you and sighed in distaste, “I’ve never worn it anywhere else.” He grabbed your hair and pulled it up over your ears on both sides, then grabbed your nose to twist your face in every direction, inspecting each inch of you with critical eyes.

“You couldn’t tease your hair or even put on eyeliner or something?”

“I brushed it and I covered up the big zit on my forehead. That’s all you’re getting, asshole,” and with that you were out the door and into Hoseok’s car, again, ruminating on why it couldn’t have been Jin or even Yoongi who let you crash at their place on Tuesday night. Yoongi would have been an ass about it, and never let you forget that he helped you that one time, but at least you wouldn’t be about to go into this club in a dress you’d bought because your great grandma died and high heels your mother had made you buy once that you literally never wore, having to face Jungkook for the first time since he fucking made you wet in the kitchen.

It occurred to you then that letting Jungkook move into your apartment was probably the worst mistake you’d ever made, and it was one you’d be paying for for a long time, you were sure.

“Something about this is...very wrong,” was the first thing any of the boys said when Hoseok dragged you over to the table they’d occupied. You allowed yourself a brief moment of comfort at the fact that there were only five of them there—Jungkook was nowhere to be seen, for now at least.

“You look kind of hot,” Namjoon reassured you with a wink, or he thought he was being reassuring, then grunted when Seokjin violently elbowed him in the ribs.

“I mean, you look nice,” he tried again, and Jin nodded in approval.

“Y/N, this is Seulgi,” Hoseok said, gesturing to the one girl pressed against Jimin’s side, “Seulgi! This is my friend Y/N that I was telling you about!” She looked miserable as Hoseok brought you to her attention, and her face brightened only just at the sight of the one other girl she had been promised would be there.

“We’re going to the bathroom,” she said with no preamble, just scooted out of her chair, grabbed your arm, and dragged you away from the group.

The night was off to a great start.

“I’m sorry about that,” she said, only after pulling both of you into one dirty stall together, “I know you’re friends with all those guys, but the blonde one has been quizzing me on Hobi trivia for the past half hour, and Tweedledum and Tweedledee were having a burping contest when I first got here and,” she took a deep breath,

“I felt like I was actually going crazy for a minute there. I know Hoseok likes me, and he’s a nice guy but,” another deep breath, “I think the scary one would kill me if I laid a single finger on him. Not to mention,” another deep breath, “I have to see Jimin at the studio every couple days and he’d never let me live it down if we hooked up. And the birthday boy did like five shots when someone mentioned you were coming, so good luck with that.”

You thought it all over in your head—Taehyung and Jimin had a burping contest like the idiots they were, Yoongi didn’t want Hoseok dating this girl, and Jungkook was obviously purposely avoiding you. That was fine.

“The birthday boy can kiss my ass,” you said, for some reason. All you’d meant to do was introduce yourself and say it was nice to meet her, but for a second there, your mouth clearly had a mind of its own.

“I’ve seen him dancing with like, any girl he could spot with a C-cup,” Seulgi added, and you would have immediately sought him out to give him a good spanking for being so shallow and gross if the idea of spanking him didn’t seem so kinky now.

“We live together,” you informed her, and got the pat on the shoulder of pity and attempted comfort that you were looking for. Seulgi didn’t seem so bad, you could tell why Hoseok liked her.

You let her lead you back out to the table, from which all but Yoongi and Taehyung had disappeared. Taehyung was already out cold, and Yoongi was scrolling through his phone with his earbuds in, entirely uninterested in anything going on around him. You wished you gave as few fucks about everything as he did.

There were two shots on the table of God only knew what, and even though one was clearly meant for her, Seulgi let you take both of them before she dragged you out onto the dance floor. By no means could you dance, but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to try. At least you couldn’t embarrass yourself as much as Namjoon did, flapping around beside Jin, who had the decency to do nothing more than sway left and right. You knew he could pull out some truly terrible dance moves, but apparently wouldn’t do so in public.

“Of course you don’t know how to move your hips,” Hoseok groaned as he came up behind Seulgi, “let’s show her, yeah?” And the two of them were immediately caught up in the own world, rubbing and writhing against each other without a care in the world. Your job was complete, as far as you were concerned.

The music was only mildly shitty, so you just kept dancing for awhile. A few times you were joined by a guy, only to have them duck out as soon as they realized you wouldn’t give them a handjob or go have a quickie in the bathroom. For the most part, you were alone, and Jimin got you a drink that you couldn’t identify but it tasted damn good, and you hadn’t seen Jungkook at all, so it wasn’t that bad. You’d even go as far as to say you were having fun.

“There he goes again,” you heard Seulgi’s voice in your ear for the first time in what seemed like hours, as she directed your attention to a certain doe-eyed, ruffly-haired young man making out with a cute blonde on the other side of the dance floor. Frankly, you were just relieved he wasn’t harassing you again, the last thing you needed was his dick grinding against your ass and—

“Hey, let’s not break the fancy cups,” Hoseok said, grabbing your hand and easing the fingers that you didn’t even realize had tightened threateningly around the stem of your glass. You let him take it away from you, as your eyes were fixated on the obscene sight. Jungkook was squeezing her ass, grinding into her front-to-front, pulling away from her lips to trail his nose up her jaw until his lips found her ear to nip at just so—and then he was looking right at you.

You immediately spun on your heel, rushing back in the general direction you could remember the table being to find your purse and leave. I just don’t want him to come over and say anything about Tuesday night, you thought, but it left a sour taste in your mouth, knowing it was only half the truth.

“I’ll take you home,” you heard Seulgi say as you found the table and pulled your purse over your shoulder. You hadn’t even realized she was following you.

“Don’t let me ruin your night, I’m fine, I’m just tired,” you lied through your teeth, but Seulgi laughed humorlessly, “The night was ruined before you got here, don’t worry about it, I’m ready to leave, too.”

You agreed to wait by the table as Seulgi went to tell Hoseok goodbye, only hoping that Jungkook wouldn’t find his way over before you could escape. Yoongi had finally taken his eyes off of his phone and was watching you with narrowed, calculating eyes.

“You’re in deep,” he eventually sighed, “me too.”

“Seulgi’s nice,” was the only thing you could think of to say. Yoongi just shrugged before he was looking back at whatever on his phone screen.

“Okay, let’s go!” And then she was back, and she was once again dragging you onto the dance floor, but this time in service of getting to the exit as quickly as possible. As much as you tried to distract yourself by looking at anything or anybody else, you couldn’t help but glance over in the direction you’d last seen Jungkook.

He was still making out with that girl.

He didn’t care that you were there, at all.

Laying in bed that night, you came to the conclusion that he must not have remembered the kitchen grinding incident. It wouldn’t be a shock with how drunk he was if he couldn’t remember anything from Tuesday night. It would be just like him to forget all about it and leave you to deal with the embarrassment and misery on your own. Now that you thought about it, you figured that if Jungkook had remembered he would have been outside your door begging you to forgive him and not kick him out the next morning. He knew what the boundaries of your relationship were, and rubbing his dick on you on purpose far overstepped them.

Things around the apartment changed. Obviously, Jungkook was unhappy with you, if the way he stopped making sure to leave leftovers for you and ignored you when you said good morning to him and erased all your saved TV shows was any indication. And you were mad at him, as well, but you couldn’t put your finger on why. All you knew was that whenever you saw him, there was a heat building in your chest threatening to spill over. You weren’t even sure what you’d do if it did.

Eighteen weeks after Jungkook moved into your apartment, you found out.

There was an unspoken rule that Sunday nights were your night. Jungkook was always quieter than usual, let you decide what was for dinner and monopolize the bathroom and have free, uninterrupted TV use. Even when your friendship with him was virtually nonexistent at this point, he still respected that.

That is until you stepped out into the hall after a long bath one Sunday evening and were immediately welcomed back to reality by Jungkook screaming expletives in the living room. Something about Reaper escaping his Deadeye.

The music and sounds of Overwatch, including Jungkook’s frustrated yells or cries of victory, had more or less become the soundtrack to your life over the past four and a half months. Normally, you wouldn’t have minded, but Jungkook had been an asshole for the past two weeks and today was your day.

“Hey, it’s Sunday,” you called out, to no response, of course. It was vague, but Jungkook knew exactly what you meant. If he was smart, he would have just turned the game off and gone to his room—it would have saved the two of you a lot of trouble. Too bad that, at least for today, Jungkook was pretty dumb.

“Did you hear me? I said it’s Sunday,” you repeated as you stomped into the living room, and feasted your eyes upon the sight of shirtless Jungkook sitting on top of the coffee table, eyes glued to the TV screen. We eat on that coffee table, you hissed in your head, and even from the angle you were at, you could see too many stains of only-God-knew-what on his dirty sweatpants. Probably cum, and hot sauce. The little shit was getting cum, hot sauce, and farts all over your coffee table.

He still didn’t answer you, he didn’t acknowledge your presence at all. He couldn’t bear to so much as jerk his head in your direction. The heat in your chest was flaring and licking up your throat.

“I’m talking to you, asshole,” you barked, taking a few more steps in until you were standing directly behind him, closely watching the way he played with his whole body. All he had to do was move his fingers, but he was leaning to the left as if that’d help him get a better view of a player shooting at him from above, throwing his arms as if he was actually dodging an attack. For a moment, you were transfixed by his shoulder blades shifting, deltoid muscles stretching beneath his taut skin. The heat in your chest spread down between your ribs until it was brewing in the pit of your belly.

“Well I’d appreciate it if you’d fucking stop,” Jungkook snapped back, and for you, the world froze. You could barely remember now, the shy sophomore who could barely look you in the eye for months when you first started tutoring him, who would run ahead to open every door for you and bring you coffee, who worshiped the ground you walked on. He had changed so much.

You planted a hand on each side of his firm, wide shoulders and shoved with all your strength. Jungkook was spinning around to face you, but it was too late—he was falling backwards onto the floor, yelping and flailing his limbs, trying to find a place to plant his hands and catch himself. Instead, he landed on his back and rolled ass over head. The satisfaction as you watched one of his feet catch and unplug the PS4’s power cord from the wall was unrivaled.

And then the room was silent. Jungkook was on the ground and you were leaning over the coffee table to stare down at him, your lips quirked just so. His face was pressed into the carpet, you could just barely see his torso lifting with each breath. “Stay down there, will you,” you sighed at him, and reached for the remote.

He moved with a swiftness you didn’t know he possessed, jumping onto his feet and grabbing your wrist in a grip so tight he’d definitely leave angry red evidence of it on your skin. He stared down at you with something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place, but you doubted anyone had ever looked at you like that. It was almost calculating, there were cogs whirring in his brain, but it was something more raw and human than that. You felt exposed, as if he was taking you apart piece by piece.

“I’m tired of playing this game with you.” Barely a second went by for you to think about what that meant before Jungkook reached over to wrap one arm around your waist and haul you up, over the table and against his chest.

Kissing Jungkook was not like how you’d imagined it would be—not that you’d imagined it before this, of course. He’d never raised his voice at you, probably never felt anything less than simple indifference towards you, so you’d never had reason to believe his kiss would be anything but soft, pliant, tender.

Instead his lips were pressed hard against yours, unforgiving. He bit your lip when you wouldn’t relent beneath him, and with your gasp his tongue was deep in your throat, licking out the apology that he knew he wouldn’t hear. You moaned around the intrusion, into his mouth, and braced your legs up around his waist.

The hand that was still holding your wrist finally let go so that he could grab your ass, kneading the flesh through your flannel pajama pants. Your arms wound around his neck to bring him closer to you.

Jungkook walked backwards around the table so he could fall onto the couch, and now you were straddling him. Your fingertips played with the soft hair at his neck, then trailed across his shoulders, down until your palms were pressed against his pecs and you finally, gently pushed him back, separating your lips from his.

“What is this? Why are we doing this?” You asked, barely able to get the words out through your breathlessness. Jungkook leaned forward, knocking his forehead lightly against yours.

“You’re dense, huh,” he said, and as you were about to indignantly huff and slip away from him, he continued, “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time, and I know you have, too. Don’t deny it.”

So maybe you had never not checked him out when he got home from his morning jog, immediately pulling his shirt over his head when he walked through the door, strutting in all of his sweat-slicked glory into the kitchen for a drink of water before disappearing into the bathroom. Maybe you had become, over time, more and more keenly aware of how large, rugged, and masculine his obnoxious Timberlands were framing your dainty flats and sneakers by the door. Maybe you walked through the door and sighed in bliss when you were surrounded by his mere smell, his cologne and aftershave and whatever was just him.

“...I’m not denying it,” you conceded. That was all the confirmation Jungkook needed. He was leaving wet kisses on your jaw, down your throat to your collarbone where you felt his teeth nibbling, and you sighed your satisfaction back at him while your hands drifted down from his chest to feel the warm skin of his abdomen. You traced his abs, delighting in the way his breath caught in his throat when your fingers softly followed the curve of his v-line towards the hem of his sweatpants.

One of his own hands had found its way beneath your shirt against the small of your back, inviting your body into his. You could feel him against your thigh, the soft bulge there stiffening, and took the plunge—his head tipped back as you rocked your hips experimentally against him, and the throaty groan he let out made your entire lower half throb.

“Did you like that, Kookie?” You asked him softly, teasingly, and his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip while he refused to look at you was all the answer you needed. Now both of those big hands of his were spread out on your hips, coaxing you to keep grinding against him.

“Take off your shirt, noona,” you barely heard his request, but it was there, breathed out into the air. He still had his head leaned back against the couch cushions, staring at the ceiling, you’d guess trying to keep himself from finishing too early. Little boys had a hard time controlling themselves that way.

“Why should I?” You asked, swallowing the moan that threatened to spill from your throat when you next rubbed against him and felt the head of his cock dig between your lips and nudge against your clit. Your underwear and pants were like a second skin, you were so wet that they had all but adhered to you.

It was a genuine question. You knew you’d be naked soon, there was no way you weren’t going to finish this now, but you still wanted to hear his answer. He had been a little shit for months.

“Because I want to see your fucking tits,” he grunted at you, “and you want me to suck on them and bite them and bruise them, you know you do.”

Not good enough.

You froze, and Jungkook kept tugging at your waist a few times before he realized you weren’t going to keep grinding and dropped his hands. His whole body deflated beneath you.

“But you’ve been an asshole,” you barked at him, “so I don’t think you deserve to see my ‘tits’, brat.” You climbed off of his lap but didn’t go far, settling down right beside him. He still wouldn’t look at you.

“I do want to get off, though,” you said, and grabbed one of his hands. It was large, rough from use, the veins stretched across it pronounced, but you didn’t observe it for long. It had a job to do.

“Now Kookie, keep your eyes to yourself,” you warned him as you shoved your pants down your thighs, then placed his palm down against your mound. Jungkook immediately jumped and tried to pull his hand away, but you held it there, giving him time to adjust to the warmth radiating off of you, the wetness he could feel against his fingers. Your eyes were locked on him, waiting for a sign. He gave it to you with the gulp that shook his throat, the way he relaxed his hand in your hold.

You pressed down on his index and middle finger with your own, and sighed in fucking bliss when they touched your clit through your underwear. On its own, your body slumped back to open yourself up to him. You led his fingers to start circling, slow and steady, and the heat bubbling in your stomach dissolved into a warmth that spread throughout your entire lower body, to the tips of your toes.

“Noona, please...p-please take your panties off...” Jungkook whined. You were still watching him, saw the way his eyes squeezed tight together and his nose scrunched in a wince, as if it was physically painful for him to ask politely.

“Why should I?” You repeated, trying to keep your voice steady.

“So I can make you feel good, noona.” Ding ding ding.

You moved Jungkook’s hand onto your knee, letting out a shudder of a breath when you realized how sticky the tips of his fingers were, and slid your underwear down to meet your pants. The open air hit your core and you trembled, from the chill or from anticipation, you weren’t sure.

He didn’t move.

“Jungkook? What are you waiting for?” You snapped.

“Permission?” His voice was small, and you melted for it. He’d been acting up ever since he moved in—you hadn’t seen him this docile or obedient in a long time.

“Touch me,” you sighed, “but don’t look,” and he immediately dragged his hand up your thigh until it reached the split between your legs. Jungkook’s touch over your underwear had been one thing, but his calloused fingertips exploring your lips, tracing shapes into your clit directly was something else, something so much better. He dipped one finger into your entrance, not even up to his knuckle and swirled it there tentatively.

“More?” He asked.

“More, more, more,” you panted, grabbing his forearm with both hands to brace yourself and trapping your bottom lip between your teeth.

Jungkook’s finger pulled away, only for two to dive right back in. The sounds that you made were obscene, would have embarrassed you, if the way he rubbed against your inner walls didn’t feel so good. His fingertips dragged against them as he pulled his fingers out then thrusted them back inside of you, again and again and again. You couldn’t decide between letting your eyelids flutter closed as pleasure wracked your body or intently watching the veins of Jungkook’s hand jumping, the muscles in his forearm flexing in your grasp as he worked you over.

Of course, he made that decision for you when his thumb brushed over your clit. Your eyes slammed shut and your entire body lurched forward, curling around his arm, trying to pull him further into you. He was rubbing your clit side-to-side, mercilessly, while his two fingers stretched you wide open.

Who had taught him to touch a woman like this? You’d never thought about his sex life before, other than feeling relieved that he chose to fuck girls at their place instead of bringing them home to bother you with all that noise. Obviously he wasn’t a virgin, not that you’d have ever assumed he was, but it amazed you how well he knew his way around a vagina—well enough to leave you speechless.

It was a third finger testing at your entrance that forced words out of your mouth, “No, wait, I— I don’t think I can—”

“Yes, you can, noona,” Jungkook assured you, and then his three middle fingers were pressed into you as far as they could reach. You were mewling, clawing at his arm as his hand jackhammered inside of your pussy—it had been so long since you felt this full, and you could feel your peak was so so so close—

“Look at me, noona,” Jungkook hissed, and he grabbed your chin with his other hand as your eyes peeled open to look into his hard gaze. The emotions swirled so tightly together—irritation, lust, something akin to hurt—making his eyes darker than usual. “Come for me,” he demanded, letting go of your chin so he could use those fingers to cup your mound and pinch your clit.

The heat in your body gathered between his hands before it burst out to every nerve, setting you aflame. You screamed through your orgasm, shaking and convulsing underneath him, but watched him watching you the whole time.

When it was over and aftershocks had you writhing only just, you let go of him, fell back against the couch and shut your eyes, exhausted. No one had made you feel that good in...ever. You hadn’t had many sexual experiences, but something about this...this was the best, you were sure.

Jungkook was silent, and when you finally felt like you could move your jelly limbs and form coherent human words, you glanced over to thank him for being so good at everything, just this once.

He had his middle and ring finger in his mouth, the two of them that had been knuckle deep in your cunt, eyes shut in ecstasy as he savored your taste. Of all things, this is what shocked you the most. The red on your cheeks at the image just embarrassed and aggravated you.

“What the fuck, you nasty little shit,” you bit out, hard still with breath you didn’t have, and he looked right at you again, no shame on his face. One of the corners of his lips tugged up into a smirk. With no hesitation, he reached forward with the index finger still coated in your cum, and painted your lips with it. You were frozen to the spot, unable to stop him or say a word.

“Lick it, noona,” he implored, and with a mind of its own, your tongue slithered out to collect every last drop he’d left for you. Your willingness made Jungkook brave, brave enough to press the tip of his finger against your closed lips again, but this time with more pressure until they parted and sucked his finger in. You wrapped your tongue tight around it, licking your juices off of him.

“Good girl,” Jungkook groaned, “you taste so good, don’t you?” And you were nodding, even though realistically you thought you tasted a little salty and metallic. If Jungkook said you tasted good then you tasted damn good.

He grabbed one of the hands lying limp at your sides and for a second it was tender, even with his finger in your mouth, he was just squeezing your hand in his with encouragement and affection, or something like it. It wasn’t until he let go of your hand that you realized he’d pulled your arm across both of your bodies and placed it down directly onto his stiff cock, still hidden beneath his sweats.

“Now you make me feel good, hm?” His voice lifted at the end, sounding like a suggestion, but you knew it was a demand, and not one you could even think of refusing. You took hold best you could through the thick fabric and rubbed softly, up and down, mimicking the movement with your tongue. The tips of your fingers brushed against his tip, making him jerk, but other than that Jungkook just narrowed his eyes and breathed hard through his nose, seeming otherwise entirely unaffected.

“Try harder, noona,” Jungkook growled, and grabbed your wrist to push your hand into his pants. Immediately, you wrapped your fingers around his cock. It didn’t feel particularly thick, but as you jerked it once you could tell it was a little longer than average. It was heavy and warm, hard but soft to the touch. You moaned around Jungkook’s finger imagining it inside of you.

As you worked his cock, Jungkook’s free hand grabbed the hem of your shirt and lifted it up over your chest, just enough so that he could grab one of your breasts to knead and take a nipple between his lips. You squeezed him, pumping your palm over him back and forth and back and forth, to the same rhythm of his ministrations against your flesh, the same rhythm with which you bobbed on his finger.

He hissed when you paused to dig your thumb into his slit, looking up at you with a grimace, and you took the opportunity to pop his finger out of your mouth and reattach your lips to his. The kiss was all teeth on teeth, bruising and gnashing and drinking each other in. Jungkook bucked his hips up into your hand, and in response, you grabbed his sweatpants to yank them down, past his thighs and over his knees until they lay in a pile at his feet.

“Ok, Kookie,” you pulled away to murmur against his lips, “I’m gonna ride you now, you son of a bitch.” You felt a rumble of a laugh in his chest as you pushed him back and threw one leg over his lap, suspending your heat over his length. His eyes were hooded watching you take it into your hold, positioning it at your entrance, letting the tip slip in and rotating your hips on it just so.

“Don’t be a fucking tease,” Jungkook warned you, but you just hummed at him and offered up a few shallow bounces on his head. It was hard to resist sinking down and letting him fill you up, but it was worth it for one more moment of that irritation and resistance on his face, the curled lip and the fire in his eyes. One more moment before you handed yourself over to him, before everything changed, before there was absolutely no going back, no way to write all of this off.

That point had probably long passed, but you allowed yourself the dramatics.

Jungkook’s hands, which just a moment ago had been gripping your waist, reached up to lock around your wrists and then you were spun over onto your back with him on top of you. You were stuck for a moment on the dreadful sense of déjà vu that swept over you, but then Jungkook leaned back to watch as he buried his cock in your pussy and you could hardly remember your own name, his name, where you were and why you were here, anything other than him fucking you.

Like you’d noticed earlier, his cock was slender but long enough to reach a spot inside of you that you and your toys and no other man had ever gotten to before. There were immediate tears of pleasure in your eyes, a sob tearing from your throat, and Jungkook was reaching up to pet your hair back and place soft kisses all over your face.

“Are you alright, noona?” He asked carefully, and you cried out at him, “Yes, Jungkook, I’m fuck—fucking amazing, I feel you so fucking deeeeep inside of me, what the fuck!” He grinded into you, pressing against that spot and against your clit both at once, and somehow it already felt like you were going to come and it was too soon, you didn’t think you could go on after another orgasm. Jungkook still needed his own release, so you started to rock against him.

He rose an eyebrow, dragging his cock out of you slowly. You waited right on the edge for him to thrust back in, but half a minute passed and—nothing. You opened your eyes and there he was, lingering above you with such a smug look on his face.

“Do something,” you seethed.

“But noona,” he said, “why should I?”

You should have known that you had never really been in control. The tip of his cock bobbed and you felt it tap against your clit.

“Because I need it,” you whined, “Kookie, please, I need it.” Observing the dampness beneath your eyes, the way you’d bitten your lip raw, the way you struggled to lift your hips for just the slightest touch—he couldn’t refuse you.

He slammed his cock back into you, balls deep.

You fucking shrieked, and prayed that your neighbors didn’t hear. It couldn’t be helped. Jungkook was pistoning his cock into your heat, and his forearms were braced on either side of your head to hold him up, allowing you access to grab and scratch his swelling biceps. Sweat was rolling down his forehead, and there were tears dripping down your cheeks. Between the two of you there was so much wet and so much sticky, it was dirty and wrong and perfect.

“T-Tell me that you...that you l-love my cock, noona,“ Jungkook gasped as his pace quickened, and who were you to deny him?

“Oh god, Kookie, your cock is so good,” you cried, “I do, I do love your cock.”

“Are you gonna come for me again? Come all over my cock like a good girl, noona?” You couldn’t even say yes, feeling him stop again to poke at that spot inside of you, the one that made your eyes roll back into your head, your lips widen around a scream that must have shaken your entire building as you hit your high.

Jungkook rode it out, but the moment your body went lax beneath him, he was leaning back to slip himself out of you. He had one hand around his cock pumping it wildly, and you could see his face twisting in pain—he’d had to come for awhile now. You could barely move, but through sheer power of will you lifted your arm to smack his hand away and tug his cock yourself. It took only one, two, three yanks before Jungkook bent over and one long squirt of cum splattered onto your stomach, hot and thick and all yours.

Then he was collapsing on top of you, squishing his cum between your bodies, nuzzling his big dumb nose into your neck and leaving a peck of appreciation there. You laid still, unsure of what to do, until you settled on reaching up to your fingers through his hair while you tried to catch your breath. He similarly put his hands on your head, massaging your scalp, making you purr for him. It was...nice.

Until it wasn’t, because Jungkook was fucking steaming and it felt like a thousands pounds of muscle had melted into steel on top of you, trapping you there. You offered up only one more affectionate gesture, a kiss to the crown of his head, before you put both of your hands on his shoulders and rolled him off of you and onto the floor. He grunted in muted pain, but didn’t say anything else.

You would have instantly fallen asleep if a thousand alarms weren’t ringing in your head—YOU JUST FUCKED JUNGKOOK! THE BOY YOU TUTORED WHEN HE WAS 19! YOUR ROOMMATE AND ONE OF YOUR CLOSEST FRIENDS! WAY TO GO, YOU FUCKING MORON! As it was, you kept your eyes closed, like maybe if you didn’t open them this would all fade away, just a strange, wonderful dream...

The sounds of Jungkook standing, of his bare feet slapping against the wooden floors while he hurried away, did nothing for your hopes of this being a dream, of waking up alone and clothed in your bed tomorrow morning with no angry red marks or bruises to prove any of this had actually happened. If this was real, you hoped Jungkook at least had the decency to come back and wipe up the mess he’d made on you. That would have been sweet of him to do.

But instead you heard him shuffle back in, and then...something familiar. Something you couldn’t immediately place, a tune that was grand and sweeping—

The Overwatch main menu theme.

You sat up and opened your mouth to yell protests at him, but then a wet rag was smacking against your forehead and falling into your lap. Jungkook had the nerve to look pleased with himself, but could you blame him? The little shit had plenty of things to be proud of at the moment, his rag sniper shot being the least of them.

You were going to kill him, and as you did you were going to make sure he knew that everything was his fault. Everything that sucked in the world sucked because of him. World hunger? Jeon Jungkook’s fault. The dirty dishes piled up in your sink? Jeon Jungkook’s fault. The fact that you’d just fucked him and you liked it and wouldn’t mind if it happened again? Jeon Jungkook’s fault. When you heated up leftovers and it was all warm except for that bite in the middle? Jeon Jungkook’s fault. When you got a pebble stuck in your shoe? Of course, Jeon Jungkook’s fau—

Wait. As you wiped his cum off of your stomach and tossed the rag onto the floor, grabbed the blanket you kept draped over the back of the couch and wrapped yourself up in it, you realized...you weren’t mad at Jungkook. You weren’t even mildly annoyed. There was no heat lingering in your chest.

Trust Jeon Jungkook to realize how to manipulate you out of being upset at him with sex and orgasms.

“Hey, babe,” he asked without looking at you, from where had resat himself on the coffee table, and the pet name made something tick in your jaw before the slightest irritation settled into something much softer, “which hero should I play as?”

“Don’t call me ‘babe’, brat,” you mumbled as you came up behind him and leaned against his back. You could feel the comforting, steady thump of his heartbeat. It occurred to you a second too late that that meant he could feel the rapid flutter going on in your own chest, then.

You observed the other heroes selected on his team, the time winding down, and tilted your head towards, “Widowmaker, she’s my favorite.” Jungkook giggled, his big wonky front teeth peeking out from behind his lips, a sight you hadn’t even realized you’d missed.

“She’s one of mine, too,” he said as he selected her and started the match. You watched closely, although you didn’t know much about the game, you’d watched him play enough to know when things were going well or were going poorly. Regardless of which way it was looking for his team, you said,

“Wow, you suck at this.” He bristled, glancing back at you only briefly with slits for eyes. You bit back a smile at the pout his lips sunk into.

Jungkook slept in your bed that night, only after promising to eat you out for hours if you let him. It wasn’t quite hours, but the forty minutes and two orgasms added onto the two from earlier were good enough.

He never slept in his own bed again, and things were definitely...different after that. It took four and a half months of living together for you to accept that while Jungkook was certainly a silly little boy, he was also...a man. A big, strong, and obscenely good-looking one, at that.

You definitely weren’t dating. Jeon Jungkook was not your boyfriend by any means and you weren’t his anything, either. The two of you just liked to sleep in the same bed and fuck every day.

The sex didn’t stop his annoying habits. He turned the kitchen into his own personal dance studio every night, he hogged the living room TV to play video games all the time, there was always food mysteriously spilled on the carpet, and you could never seem to get rid of the smell of his cologne stinking up the entire apartment. The only difference was that now, when he did something that particularly pissed you off, he got to make it up to you with orgasms. You were content with that trade-off.

You decided that maybe, just maybe, having a roommate was not the worst thing that had ever happened to you.

But you had gone and forgotten your life’s own golden rule: things always, always, always got better before they got dramatically worse.

#jungkook smut #bts smut #kpop smut #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #kpop scenarios #jungkook #bts #i wrote this #the struggle is real everybody!!#writing is hard and idk why to heck i even try!!!#i hope someone likes it #and as always...pls validate me ;(#GOODBYE!!!!!!

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