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canary3d-obsessed · 4 years

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Restless Rewatch: The Untamed, Episode 01

(Masterpost) (Next Episode)

Warning: This is **FULL **of spoilers, not just for this episode but for the entire series. If you haven’t finished all 50 episodes, please don’t read it!

Intro: 2020 continues to be much much too much while also being incredibly boring, and Im done with Shen Wei’s Lewks, so now I’m doing a deep meta dive into the Untamed. Let’s roll!

Prologue: The Battle of Mordor

The Demise of our Protagonist

Unlike some other shows I won’t name, The Untamed kills its suicidal queer protagonist immediately, rather than waiting four seasons, so we know what we're in for.

This is Wei Wuxian, who is about to yeet himself off of a cliff. He is having a bad day.

Note: if mouth blood bothers you...C-Drama might not be your thing.

Reasons for mouth blood: a sampler

Anyway...cliff time

Note: if (fictional) suicide bothers you...C-Drama might not be your thing.

To be fair there are hardly any suicides in The Untamed. No more than ...five? As long as you don’t count the entire population of the Wen Corporate Headquarters in Yiling or those wall bandits in Qinghe or Madame Yu or all those Wens who supposedly threw themselves into the mud puddle or that Mo guy who broke his own neck. Plus watching Wei Wuxian’s cliff drop several more times from multiple angles. So, you know. Hardly Any Suicides.

This is Lan Wangji, who is about to have his first losing encounter with physics. He is having a bad day.

In fact, if it is possible to have a worse day than the guy who is currently falling to his death, Lan Wangji is having that.

This is Jiang Cheng, who is feeling extra stabby from this camera angle. He is having a bad day.

Camera operator: why you gotta take it out on me?

(Much, much more after the cut!)

The Amulet Situation

This is the Stygian Tiger Amulet. Yes, by all means, (Netflix) subtitles, let's use a 12-dollar word, “Stygian,” that every English speaker who is not a Shelley/Byron shipper will have to look up. Let’s not use a normal word like "deathly" or "corrupt" or you know... "Yin" which is clearly what they are saying on screen.

Why does this tiger amulet look like a chameleon crossed with a remora? Wei Wuxian can paint photorealistic bunnies on a flimsy lantern while sitting in a field having distracting teenage lust, but two months of meditating with super magic gets him a tiger that looks like a chameleon. And don’t try telling me this is a traditional-Chinese-art vibe because this jade tiger from frickin 1000 BCE is way more tigerish than Wei Wuxian’s attempt.

Try harder next time, Wei Wuxian.

This is thousands of cultivators having a battle. What do you mean, it looks like about 40-60 dudes?

Any time someone in The Untamed refers to a number of people, it is like when you do your high school play and look off into the wings at nothing and say “Hark, A Ship Approaches!” and everyone’s parents nod indulgently.

Jin Clan Mountain Hunt:

*viewership nods indulgently*

This is Captain Blowhard, over on the right, courtesy name Clan Leader Yao. His job is to talk smack about Wei Wuxian and stick up for whoever is the biggest asshole in any given scene.

He represents mainstream cultivation-world values so here he is shanking one of his allies to take the deadly amulet of evilness.

The Present Day

Spilling All That Yiling Laozu Tea

Down at the Exposition Tea Shop, the Lan juniors are chilling and listening to Tea Dude tell the story of Yiling Laozu.

How did they get permission to take this field trip? “Principal Qiran, we want to go downtown to hang out with the local rabble and learn about your favorite person, Wei Wuxian.”

Waiting in the wings is the man with a fan and a plan, Nie Huaisan(g), who is paying tall loot to get these stories told.

...Why? Is Mo Xuanyu having tea here and listening? Or is Wei Wuxian being summoned back by hearing all this smack being talked about him? *Shrug.*

Gank Your Soul

Drunk flag guy out here talking about spirits. Wikipedia tells me that In one school of Daoist thought, a human being has a collection of physical souls (魄 pò) and ethereal souls (魂 hún). Drunk flag guy is saying “hún ” at the moment.

The many types of souls don’t translate well into English, where spiritual vocabulary has always been shackled connected to Christian beliefs, and is too limited for this context. So when the subtitles have conversations like “Is it a soul eater? No, no, it’s a spirit taker!” just roll with it. (Speaking of hún, if you have any interest in linguistics, do yourself a favor and go read all the wonderful meta @hunxi-guilai)

The spirit-carrying flag looks a lot like Raava and Vaatu from Korra which...probably doesn’t mean anything.

The Demise of our Trill Host

Suicide #2 happens about 8 minutes in.

Mo Xuanyu is that hippie roommate with the annoying wind chimes and bead curtains and blood spatter.

He is super mad at his terrible family and also at Jin Guangyao, who sent him home to his terrible family. I wonder if Fan Man Nie Huaisang influenced Jiggy’s decision-making there. Mo Xuanyu’s choice to die for revenge might be excessive, given how easy it actually is to murder the Mo family.

Being Alive Is Fine I Guess As Long As I Get To Fuck WIth People

Wei Wuxian starts his new life by splashing a little water on his face, which instantly makes his hair go from this

to this.

He looks at his reflection and wishes he was dead, which--mood--but he gets over it as soon as he finds someone whose day he can fuck up.

And he is ALL in on being crazy.

OP wishes she had the Wei Wuxian kind of crazy instead of the kind she actually has.

Meanwhile, this is the sane Mo cousin:

This asshole is wearing one of the best fabrics in the whole show, incidentally. Asshole.

My favorite bit of Wei-Mo craziness is when Wei Wuxian does a meaningless 360 all the way around this dude before ducking in the opposite direction, which is like when I make 4 right turns around a whole block to avoid making a single left across traffic.

Perhaps I Do Miss One Thing In This Life

Wei Wuxian has pining thoughts about Lan Wangji, so he plays WangXian on a fucking blade of grass well enough for Sizhui to recognize it from his dad's guqin jams.

Wei Wuxian is a better flautist than even Inspector Gadget BeatBoxing Flute Guy (Google it).

Our Many Many Spirit Lure Flags have Lured A Spirit, Oh Shit

Lan Clan has a Plan and Wei Wuxian is a Fan

Having one single lure flag stuck in Wen Ning’s torso caused spirits to basically eat him alive, so to catch one evil spirit, 6 disciples holding flags on the roof plus 8 more flags on the ground seems like a good amount. Wei Wuxian is like “yep, a single one of these will lure every spirit for five miles, carry on, younglings.”

Baxia Does the Heavy Lifting

Wei Wuxian is supposed to kill four people because of this curse situation, and in the course of the series they all die, and he kills exactly zero of them. The curse on Wei Wuxian’s arm should be called the scorekeeper curse.

Baxia’s spirit pinballs around the Mo clan, rapidly killing three people on Mo Xuanyu’s list plus a couple extras for good measure. Who's a good blade? Baxia is! Yess you are! Yes you are!

This here is the exact point in the show where your friend, who has listened to you squee about The Untamed for three months and finally agreed to watch it with you, will say “what the fuck am I watching?” and try to get up off the couch. Tackle them!

This also the point where we all realize that the prosthetic and practical effects in this show were probably not made by the people who made the clothing, because the quality is...variable. The white eyeballs are pretty good, but the glove of death is ridiculous.

Camera operator: why you gotta take it out on me?

While Baxia goes to town on the Mo clan, the Lan Clan babies...watch? And tie up the various victims after they are already goners.

Narrator: Her son is dead.

Meanwhile,

Wei Wuxian, you motherfucker. You’ve been alive for like 7 hours and you’re already building a new zombie army. No wonder you don’t want them to call Lan Wangji.

Hanguang-Jun Cut It Up One Time

Lan Wangji shows up and very slowly kicks zombie ass with his guqin. If you are used to Hong Kong action speeds, you will find The Untamed very peaceful.

All of the baby Lans fan squee up at Lan Wangji like he's the cultivation world's David Bowie and...they're not wrong. Jesus Fuck, he’s charismatic.

Lan Wangji is soft boi when he discovers this murderous sword full of dead-bastard energy, because it reminds him of his true love.

Like the talk about souls, the conversations about the nature of the murderous entity really don’t survive translation into English.

Servant: it’s a ghost!

WWX: it’s not a ghost, it’s a spirit

Babies: It’s a spirit

LWJ: it’s not a spirit, it’s a [...] ghost

Our Protagonist gets the FOH

Wei Wuxian is soft boi when he sees Lan Wangji, but not so soft that he considers actually, like, sticking around.

Wei Wuxian is also clueless boi, noting Lan Wangji’s white clothing and thinking, as in the past, that he looks like he’s dressed in mourning. The term he uses is 戴孝, which google tells me means the type of outfit worn by Jiang Yanli after Wen Ning rips her husband’s heart out someone who is in mourning.

Actually, Wei Wuxian, you dumbass, he is in actual mourning, actually, for you. Dumbass. He probably packed away all of his blue outer robes 16 years ago and only takes them out occasionally to reminisce about that nice date you had on your mountain of corpses.

On his way out the door Wei Wuxian manages to find a red ribbon for his beautiful hair, so things are looking up.

Where to go next...hey I know, how about that one haunted mountain with the killer statue, you know, the one that all my executed friends and child came from? That’ll be fun and a great way to put the past behind me!

Episode 02 Restless Rewatch is here!

#fytheuntamed #the untamed spoilers #the untamed gifs #the untamed #restless rewatch the untamed #tw: blood #tw: suicide #chen qing ling #cql #c-drama #bl drama #canary3d-original #the untamed memes #my gifs

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everybodyscupoftea · 3 years

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won’t hold back

college isaac x reader

i’m back besties with the immediate follow up of born to run!

(warnings: cursing, light editing)

He finished his run first, of course he did, and by the time you got back to your car, huffing and puffing, a text was waiting on your phone. You pulled it out, hands shaking a bit and your face split into a smile as you read it.

I’m in parking lot west, meet me there?

Climbing into your car, you cranked it up, turning the heat up as high as you could stand, breaking out into a slight sweat despite still being cold as your thumbs hovered over the keyboard.

I’m in east, just got finished so I’ll drive over

You backed out, heart pounding, and drove the few minutes to the adjacent parking lot. He was leaning against his car and waved at you when you turned in, not that he needed to because he was the only car in the lot. Parking next to him, you took one last deep breath and grabbed your hoodie off the back seat.

“Hey,” he murmured with a smile when you climbed out.

Waving shyly, you responded, “Hey.”

“Hungry?”

You nodded eagerly, “Starving.”

Isaac grinned, “I know a place if you trust me enough.”

Thinking back to the coffee shop he picked when you were first getting to know each other, you nodded, “Yeah, absolutely.”

After a pause and a speculative glance, he jogged around the car and opened his passenger door for you to climb in. When you hesitated, his eyebrows furrowed and he started to look uncertain, which you definitely didn’t want, he spoke, slowly, “Or did you want to follow me there?”

“No,” you reassured quickly, sliding in without any further concerns, “sorry, I was just caught off guard for a second.”

Isaac didn’t respond, shutting the door softly for you before heading back over to the drivers side, finally answering when he buckled in and cranked it up, “Why caught off guard?”

“Well,” you paused, unsure how much you wanted to admit. But then you heard your sister’s voice in your head go get your man and decided on complete honesty, “I was going to ask you out today, but I wasn’t really expecting you to say yes.”

He blinked a few times, hand freezing on the gear shift, “Why the hell wouldn’t I say yes?”

Ears heating up, you shrugged, “I don’t know, it just seemed like you were out of my league. You didn’t text me.”

“You didn’t text me!” he countered. Which you supposed was fair, but you’d been nervous. He was so attractive and outgoing and unattainable. He was so clever and good with words and you were just. Good at math.

“That’s fair,” you answered, “but I thought you might would have other, better options.”

“Well, you’re wrong, just ask my roommates.”

It was oddly reassuring, that his roommates had been putting up with the same thing your sister apparently had, and you couldn’t stop the wide smile crossing your face. Heart stuttering again, your palms got clammy as he pulled out of the parking lot finally, heading down the road toward the downtown area.

Isaac parked outside a brunch place you’d passed a few times before but he’d gotten to check out yet, so you were excited. When he turned the car off, you waited for him to open the door for you again after catching his attempted discrete look in your direction.

“M’lady,” he spoke, pulling the door open and bowing slightly.

Giggling, you took his outstretched hand and stepped out, responding with an exaggerated accent, “Thank you, sir.”

“Anytime.”

He kept your hand, not that you wanted to let go, but your heart kicked up again, and you hoped that he couldn’t feel the sweat on your palm. If he did, he thankfully didn’t mention it, just swung your hands between the two of you, humming, as he led both you toward the door.

The brunch place was pretty busy, and the hostess smiled at the two of you, “Good morning, table for two?”

“Yep,” Isaac responded cheerfully.

“Inside or out?”

He looked at you, content to let you answer, and you shrugged, “Doesn’t matter to me,” you turned to the hostess, “do you have a suggestion?”

“It’s more private outside, and we have heaters.”

“Outside,” Isaac confirmed without further pause.

She raised her eyebrows, lips twitching a bit at his hasty answer, and she marked something down, before speaking again, “Follow me.”

“Private, huh?” you teased when she was gone, menus spread out in front of each of you.

He shrugged, grinning, “Yeah, I want to get to know you well, not just eat together.”

And you didn’t really have anything to say to that, throat tightening at his honest words. It was quiet at first, both of you focused on picking something to eat and ordering before he finally took a sip of the tea he ordered, clutching the cup with both hands. Isaac leaned forward, foot nudging yours under the table, and you spoke up, “So, how are your classes this semester?”

He grinned, “You really want to talk about school right now?”

“No,” you admitted, smiling sheepishly, “but I thought it could be a good ice breaker.”

“Okay, I’ll humor you. They’re good, but I miss studying with you.”

Your jaw dropped slightly, and you played with a string on the sleeve of your hoodie, “I miss studying with you too.”

“Have you been back to the coffee shop?” he asked.

Shaking your head, you reluctantly answered, “No, it felt like your space and I didn’t want to invade it.”

“I’ve been looking for you there,” he admitted, “I thought you liked it and might come back.”

“I did,” you shrugged, “like it, at least. But the library and engineering building have become my home as of late.”

“Do you like the quiet?”

“Something like that. Less things for me to look at.”

Isaac hummed, “I get that. I like coffee shops because I feel like people are watching me and if I’m not productive, they’ll judge me.”

You snorted, “Well, that’s a way to pressure yourself into it, I suppose.”

“Yeah,” he nudged your foot with his again, “I normally like to be alone, but I wouldn’t mind some company every so often. If you can drag yourself out of your academic buildings to hang out with me sometimes.”

“No one I’d rather drag myself out of academic buildings for,” you teased.

Even though your tone was teasing, you were serious, and his smile confirmed that he realized that. You really liked that he picked up on your underlying meanings, it was something that lacked in your last relationship. That boyfriend needed things explicitly stated, which was fine, but a lot of your jokes were taken the wrong way or went over his head, and it caused a few fights.

Isaac took another sip of tea and leaned back in his chair, “So, tell me about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?”

He shrugged, eyes not leaving your face once, and you almost wanted to balk at the steady attention, “You decide.”

“Well, I’m not that interesting,” you started, only pausing when he made a noise in protest.

“I assure you,” he interrupted, “I’ll be interested in whatever you have to say.”

Squeezing your eyes shut for a second, pushing back against the sappy look desperately fighting to show on your face, you answered, “Okay, um, I’m from New York, but not any of the cities, more in the countryside. I have one sister and she’s pretty much my best friend.”

Isaac nodded, “Older?”

“Younger.”

“I had a brother, older,” Isaac told you, “but he died overseas.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “I’m so sorry, Isaac.”

He smiled sadly, “Thank you. We weren’t really close, but it was still tough. Especially for my dad.”

“Are you close?”

Isaac snorted, “No, not even a little bit.”

It didn’t seem like he wanted to elaborate, so you decided to change the subject, “What about friends?”

His smile was small but pleased, “Stiles and Scott are my two closest. I grew up with them and they came here too.”

“Oh, that’s great,” you responded enthusiastically, “they sound like good friends.”

“They are most of the time. But sometimes they bully me. Like when I kept going on early morning runs to see this girl I liked instead of just texting her.”

You snorted, “Sounds like my sister.”

“I’m sure they’d get along then.”

“Sounds like,” you agreed, “we should never introduce them.”

“Amen,” he answered just as the waiter came over with your food. The rest of the meal was lighter, more focused on small talk than any heavy topics. You learned about his interest in drama and hatred of poetry.

He ranted about the true villain in Hamlet for a solid five minutes, using his hands excitedly, emphasizing certain points by pointing his fork, and you were enthralled. Sure, you didn’t particularly care about Hamlet versus his stepdad, but by the end of his speech, you were more intrigued than before.

“I’ve never really understood poetry,” you admitted.

He nodded enthusiastically, “It’s so subjective. English teachers often teach it wrong. I want to change that. I want to help science brains like yours not hate English as much.”

“A very noble cause,” you joked, “but perhaps more difficult than you may think.”

“I don’t think so,” he mused, “because when we started eating, you didn’t know anything about Hamlet but now you have an opinion.”

You nodded, “That’s true, I suppose. Anyone who claims Hamlet is the true villain is incorrect.”

Isaac grinned, “Fuck yes.”

And then it was your turn to rant about physics and how the professors on campus made it ten times worse than it should’ve been. Isaac asked about some of the topics physics entailed, and to his credit, he seemed interested despite the boring subject.

“It could just be so much more pleasant, but the professors are so old and refuse to adapt.”

“A problem in English too sometimes,” he agreed, “but I’m hoping once I get to higher level courses, things will get more interesting.”

By the time he’d paid and the plates had cleared away, there were a few other tables of people around the two of you, and you knew it was about time to leave. You really didn’t want to, and it looked like he felt the same way.

“Ready?” you finally asked.

“I guess so.”

The walk to the car was quiet, and he didn’t hold your hand again, but your knuckles brushed his every so often. When you looked over, his ears were red and he was pointedly staring straight ahead. You reveled in the fact that a guy like him actually seemed flustered by your presence.

He dropped you off at your car and grabbed your wrist before you could get out, “Can we do this again sometime?”

You smiled at the slight shake in his voice, “Yeah, I’d love that.”

“Cool,” he beamed, “I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah. Text me sometime?” you asked, teasing him a bit even though both of you were guilty of not texting.

His lips twitched, “Or I’ll just see you in the morning.”

“Yeah, I guess you will.”

Suddenly, morning runs didn’t seem all that daunting.

#isaac lahey #college isaac #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey fanfiction #isaac lahey x you #isaac lahey fic

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redhoodssweetheart · 3 years

Photo

BUCKY BARNES

Get Out

You and Bucky have a huge fight and you tell him to get out. Can he fix this?

We’re Going to Disney

Your friend canceled on you last minute so Bucky asks if he can go with you to Disney World.

Eavesdropping

Bucky overhears you telling Natasha how you feel about him.

Messy Sleeper

You are a wild sleeper and it’s keeping Bucky up at night.

My Hero

Bucky returns from a mission to discover you being harassed at your job.

Hold Me Tight

Bucky gets back after a rough mission and just wants to be held by his girl.

Care for a Game?

You and Peter are playing pool when Bucky walks in. Knowing what a ladies man Quill is Bucky gets jealous.

Rough Day

Reader comes back from a mission and skips going to medical so that she can be with Bucky.

NATASHA ROMANOFF

Pet Videos and Jealousy

Natasha sees you and Carol having fun together and gets jealous over it.

Ti Amo

Natasha loves it when you speak Italian, she finds it incredibly sexy.

Crash Landing

Natasha is trying to teach you her famous kick moves, but you just can't seem to get it.

Reunited

You had been dusted by Thanos, but when the Avengers reverse the effects Natasha waits for you to return to her.

Misunderstood

Natasha is jealous because she thinks that you're with Steve when in reality you have the biggest crush on her.

I Like Your Top

You get drunk one night while out with the team and when you get hit on by someone saying they liked your top you respond with, “Thanks, her name’s Natasha.”

Protective

You and Natasha were trained together in the Red Room and you are very protective of your girlfriend.

Back Home (Gender Neutral!Reader)

Nat never died on Vormir, and when Bruce snaps his fingers to bring everyone back she gets the one person she’s missed the most back as well. You.

All Patched Up (Fem!Reader)

You’re on your way home one night when you hear a noise in the alleyway. Against your better judgment you go and see what’s wrong. There you discovered an injured Black Widow and take her home to get her patched up.

Natasha and Fem!Reader dancing around in the kitchen (Headcanon)

CAROL DANVERS

Alien Invasion

Carol has the perfect evening planned out, but your date gets interrupted by a group of aliens that want revenge.

Injured

You're injured on a mission and Carol's not sure if you'll be okay.

The Test

Thor finally knows the truth behind yours and Carol's relationship and decides to test Carol to see if she really is worthy of you.

Criminal Record

You have a criminal record and when Carol said she would never date someone with a record you come forward and tell her the truth.

The Proposal

When you get into a really bad car wreck Carol is worried about what will happen. She says that if you make it through the worst of it she will propose to you.

Shy

Carol gets shy and tongue-tied whenever you're around. You decide to take matters into your own hands.

Homesick

You're homesick and Carol comforts you.

Caught (Natasha x Reader ----> Carol x Reader)

You catch Natasha cheating on you with Bucky and turn to Carol for comfort.

Kidnapped

You are kidnapped by one of Carol's enemies, and she comes to find you.

Introverted

You've always been introverted, but it seems that Carol brings out the extrovert in you.

Mischievous Cat

Goose is causing trouble around the house, and Carol manages to distract you for a few minutes while Goose causes even more trouble.

Let’s Go (Homophobic Parents)

Carol is going to meet your parents who are less than thrilled with your relationship with another woman. Carol sticks up for you.

All Mine

Carol gets a little jealous when she sees you talking with Natasha.

Memory Loss (Fem!Reader)

You thought that Carol had died in that crash, only to find out that she’s still alive and can’t remember who you are.

Carol is Nervous to meet your parents (Headcanon)

Fem!Reader is having a panic attack and how Carol would handle it (Headcanon)

Pietro Maximoff

Ornery

Pietro has trouble remembering English sometimes, you try to make him feel better when he gets frustrated.

I Love You

Pietro tells you that he loves you for the first time when the two of you are doing mundane chores together.

Fluent (Russian!Reader)

You're Russian and you can understand Pietro when he's talking to you in Sokovian... only he doesn't know.

Wanda Maximoff

Movie Night

You and Wanda are trying to have a nice movie night together, but Pietro keeps interrupting.

I Don’t Party (Gender Neutral!Reader)

You and Wanda come up with a hand signal to signal when you’re ready to leave parties.

Bucket List (Fem!Reader)

Wanda finds your bucket list and is determined to help you complete it.

I’m Sorry (Gender Neutral!Reader)

You and Wanda were on opposites sides during Civil War, but you realize now that you were wrong and go to help free her from the Raft prison.

When She’s Insecure (Fem!Reader)

Wanda is feeling insecure and you are determined to help her not be.

Steve Rogers

Ashes

You and Steve were happy together even if you were on the run, but when Thanos arrives all that changes when you disappear in the snap.

Aye, Aye Captain (Stark!Reader)

You are Tony Stark’s daughter, but no one knows that except for Nick Fury and Maria Hill. Your dad doesn't know that you're a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, but he finds out when you're injured on a mission.

Reckless

During the battle of Wakanda, you're being reckless and as a result, Steve yells at you.

Clint Barton

We Need a Vacation

You and Clint are spending the day together when you both decide it's time for a little vacation together.

Nick Fury

Home (Male!Reader)

You and Nick Fury are in a secret relationship together. One day when Goose follows Nick into work he calls you into his office and asks that you take Goose home.

I Need a Drink (Gender Neutral!Reader)

While listening to Peter ramble about upgrades to his suit you make a remark to MJ about needing a drink. She remarks that you all aren’t legal yet.

Hela

No More Kissing (Gender Neutral!Reader)

Hela threatens to stop kissing you.

Minn-Erva

Stolen Hoodie (Gender Neutral!Reader)

Minn-Erva can’t find her hoodie, could you have stolen it from her?

Myself (Gender Neutral!Reader)

Minn-Erva admits that she feels like she can only be herself around you.

Gamora

Subtle Intimacy (Gender Neutral!Reader)

Your favorite act of intimacy with Gamora is resting your forehead against hers.

It Smells Like You (Gender Neutral!Reader)

You ask Gamora if you can borrow a sweater because it smells like her.

Platonic

Who the Hell is Bucky?

You suffer an injury on a mission and forget who Bucky is.

Family

Your parents were taken in the snap and the Avengers came for you. You thought it was because of your abilities, but in reality, you're now apart of their family. When Thanos takes you, you don't expect them to come for you, but they do.

Sister Troubles (Brother!Steve x Sister!Reader)

The Reader is having a rough day and Steve makes sure to cheer her up.

Non-Reader Inserts

Untold Truth One // Two

Carol runs into Genis-Vell, the son of Mar-Vell, and doesn't trust him as they hunt down Moonston and Kl'rt.

Polyamorous

My Girls (Natasha x Reader x Carol)

You leave on a mission for a week leaving your girlfriends Carol and Natasha worried about you.

Unsure (Natasha x Reader x Carol)

You and Carol want to ask Natasha to join your relationship, but you're not sure what she'll say.

Enough is Enough ( Natasha x Reader x Clint)

Clint and Natasha are fighting with one another after a particularly rough mission and you've had enough.

They Were Roommates (Natasha x Reader x Carol)

The teams finds out that you, Natasha, and Carol are all in a relationship together and some of them were completely clueless to this even though you all weren't hiding it.

Cuddles (Carol x Reader x Wanda)

You, Wanda, and Carol are all cuddling together when your girlfriends want you to serenade them.

#Masterlist #Marvel Masterlist #Marvel Drabble Masterlist

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rosy-cheekx · 3 years

Text

Hypothetically

@aspecarchivesweek Day One: Wish

I wish to make you happy.

Jonathan Sims/Georgie Barker

This was it. Jon fiddles with the pale green collar of his shirt; eyes focused resolutely on the version of himself in the mirror that hung on the wardrobe in his student flat. Tonight’s the night I’m going to ask Georgie to…

He shakes his head to himself, wincing at the end of that sentence. He knows what he’s going to do tonight, what he wants to do tonight, what difference does vocalizing it make, even if it’s just to himself?

Glancing down at his watch, Jon chews his lip. He was meeting Georgie at the bar in thirty minutes. The bar was ten minutes away…He should probably leave now, right? In case he needed to find them seats or use the loo or if the walk ended up taking longer than the dozens of times he’s been there before? He doesn’t want to be late, that would just make everything worse-

Huh. He’s pacing. Jon forces himself to stop and stands in the middle of his bedroom, wrapping his hands around his sides, thumbs digging into his back, feeling his diaphragm push his ribs out and in as he breathes, focusing on the solid movement of his body. Why am I so nervous? His therapist had talked to him, years back, about identifying sources of his anxiety. He hates that it works, hates that it means confronting his own brain and acknowledging his faults.

Is it the bar? No. This bar, The Addison, is one of the few pubs Jon actually enjoys. It’s always got a bit of a draft so even in the busiest nights it never feels like the heat of the room is inescapable. Jon’s not the biggest fan of beer, per se, but he can knock back a pint with the best of them, so long as he has something in his stomach first, and the pretzels and beer cheese The Addison makes are his favorite. The thought of them make his stomach growl.

Is it Georgie? No. He has a lot of strong feelings for Georgie, feels comfortable being himself around her. He drops his stuffy academic persona and can be his regular, less-stuffy-but-still-academic self, the one who speaks to her flatmate’s cat in a higher-pitched voice but still with proper Queen’s English, because “they deserve to be treated with respect, don’t you Madame?” She cares about him, too, he knows that, and he’s enjoyed their months as friends and the past few weeks they’ve been a couple.

As a couple…He feels a twinge of anxiety in his chest that makes him flap his hands instinctively, a quick stim to ward off the impending doom building in his belly. Ah. Found it. He and Georgie have only gone on a few dates: a coffeeshop on a Saturday morning, and a movie night in Georgie’s flat, an evening which had been planned to be a movie marathon of Georgie’s favorite bad horror movies, the B and C rated films that were truly just a vehicle for half-naked women sprinting down alleyways and gratuitous fake blood effects. Any excuse for them to laugh over popcorn and predict the plot points, except Jon had fallen asleep partway through the second movie and had woken up the next morning on Georgie’s couch, a worn fleece blanket over his slumped form. But this? This was a proper night-time date, involving alcohol and a walk home and, Jon was sure, a “mind if I come in?” and it would be different because it wasn’t a friend he was talking to, it was his girlfriend and there were expectations and he was a virgin and didn’t want to disappoint her because he knows Georgie is experienced and she deserves to have a good time and it’s his responsibility as a boyfriend to do that, even if he’s terrified because he hasn’t before—

Woah. Jon takes a deep breath. That was a lot. He did a full Sims, as Georgie would say, letting things snowball in his head until he explodes. He closes his eyes, wringing his hands again, just a gentle flutter at his sides. It’ll be fine. She’ll understand. She has up to now. Georgie has understood his weird studying habits, his deep aversion to spiders, his need to be early everywhere, his sudden shutdowns and stimming habits and how he loves to be held and touched. She can certainly handle him being a nervous virgin.

Jon slips a condom in his wallet and then, hesitating, tears off two more and throws them in. In case he messes up the first time. Checking his watch, he sees its quarter to eight. If he leaves now he’ll only be five minutes early. Perfect.

The Addison is a healthy dose of busy on a Thursday night in late autumn, the hum of conversation and music floating over Jon is just the right amount of chaos for him to reach equilibrium, feeling enthused by his nervous energy. He’s sitting at the bartop, spinning the cap to his beer bottle, watching it whirl, whirl, whirl, clattering on the stained wood and spinning all the while. It’s entrancing.

Georgie is speaking to him now. She smiles warmly at him and feels his stomach flip. God, she’s gorgeous when she smiles. Her hair’s in braids this month, pink and orange weaved tightly together, contrasting with the tight black turtleneck dress she wears. He catches himself staring at her profile, the planes of her face animated as she tells him a story about her professor and his alleged vow to fail her this semester. His face is warm. See, he soothes himself, you are attracted to her. You’re just nervous.

“Jon. Jon?” Georgie’s eyebrow is quirked up and she’s smirking at him, like she’s caught him in a lie. “Everything alright? You’re staring.” Jon feels another rush of blood to his cheeks, prickling at how exposed he feels to have been caught up in his thoughts about her.

“Oh-uh, yeah,” he nods, hesitating before reforming his own features into a smile. “I-I was just thinking. Well. How nice you look tonight.” Georgie isn’t immune to compliments, he knows this for certain, and its reaffirmed as she ducks her own head briefly, smile shifting from teasing to soft.

“O-Oh. Thank you, Jon.” She sips her drink, preferring something a little harder than Jon’s beer, usually a vodka cranberry she can nurse throughout a night or throw back when she needs a little something more in her bloodstream, fogging her mind. “You look really nice too, you know. Your green shirt is my favorite.” She gestures to the button up and he nods absently, glancing down at it. When he looks up, her face is close to his, hand weaving into the curls by his ear. He sighs and leans into the touch, feeling a shiver run through him when they kiss. He tastes the cranberry on her lips, vodka on her tongue, her liquid courage enthusing him as well as her (not that she needs any excuse to be bold, really), and makes a choice.

When they pull away for air, he grins wildly at her, the face he makes when he knows he’s about to a very Not-Sims thing. When the bartender makes his rounds again, a pale man in a black button-down, Jon orders his own ruby-red drink. Georgie’s eyebrows meet her hairline as he does so, folding her hands together. “Who are you and what have you done with Jonathan Sims?” The chuckle behind her voice balances the sternness of her words. He just grins at her and takes a sip of his newly-acquired vodka and cranberry juice, the dry flavors curling on his tongue and making his head feel light and warm after even half the glass.

Jon is drunk. It doesn’t take a genius to see that. He knows he’s a lightweight and even the divine soft pretzels he’s been munching on since his arrival can only handle so much. He’s finished his second hard drink on top of the beer and is feeling properly light and airy. Like a cake, he giggles to himself. He’s having fun, chatting with Georgie about life and cats and uni and their plans for the future. Jon’s entertaining a couple of options, a few research jobs in London, and Georgie is poking his side, making him laugh as she teases him about his studying skills being useful for something more than exams.

“At least I have studying skills!” He says, pushing her off his side, linking their fingers together to inhibit her from poking him again. “You can’t ride my coattails forever, you know.”

“I won’t have to! It came in today.”

“What did?” His thoughts are clouded, edges of anxiety smoothed over into something more ignorable.

“My microphone! So I can start my podcast about spooky shit, remember?” Georgie squeezes his hand and finishes her own drink, far along as Jon in liquid consumed but not nearly as affected as he is. “I’m going to uncover the world’s mysteries and teach my faithful audience about the supernatural. I’ve got the title nailed down, too.” With her free hand she paints a banner in the air. “What the Ghost. ‘Cause it’s like ‘what the fuck’ and I can talk about all sorts of weird shit.” Georgie swears a lot, and more when she’s tipsy.

“Can I see it?” The words are out of his mouth before he can think them through. “The-the microphone, can I see it?”

Her eyes widen and she nods, “Oh, yeah of course! I haven’t been able to test it out yet, so maybe you can help me.”

Jon insists on paying. So does Georgie. They resign to splitting it, each vowing to pay next time and knowing they will never outsmart each other.

Jon doesn’t realize how drunk he is until he’s walking the five minutes to Georgie’s flat. Tucked into her side, the air is cool around his face, the wind an icy hand cupping his cheek. Everything feels smeary, liquid, warm. Hands in the pocket of the peacoat he knows he bought for the aesthetic and not to keep him warm, he fingers his wallet, feels the circular outline inside, and feels…nothing. Good. He can do this.

He’s always loved Georgie’s flat. It is warm, all orange and yellow lamplight, houseplants, and a cosy cluttered look. Her roommate exists only in residuals, the sneakers she leaves by the door and the dishes she does at odd hours more proof she exists than anything like conversation. Jon respects that. Georgie’s room is a lot like the rest of the flat, which means it’s a lot like Georgie herself. Warm, dark, soft, and scattered, with hidden elements of cat hair no matter how many times she cleans. Jon throws his coat over his desk chair and collapses onto her bed, reveling in how her pillows feel under his back. He takes a moment to greet the weird smile-faced stain on her ceiling before sitting up, watching Georgie fold herself next to him and open a carboard box, taking out a chunky black microphone with a USB cable. She brandishes it like a sword, before angling it to her face.

“This is BBC 4 with breaking news,” she intones into the microphone, putting on a crisp RP accent and lowering her voice an octave. “Ghosts and ghouls have been discovered at King’s College, Oxford, residing as university professors. News anchor Jonathan Sims has the story. Sims?”

Jon presses back his giggles and leans into the character, accent already pretty close to the posh voice she puts on. “There’s been an error, actually. They’ve been the students all along. Journalism student Porgie Parker has been found out to have been a ghost. These discoveries were made after her boyfriend, English Literature student…Bonathan Bims, realized she had never picked up a textbook because she couldn’t! Her hands went right through them!” By the time he’s gotten to the word textbook, Georgie has pounced on him, microphone forgotten as she wrestles him to the bed, alternating between poking and tickling him until he lets the bit trail off, voice a mix of giggles and pleas for her to stop.

When she lets off, Jon abruptly realizes the intimacy of their position. She’s straddling him, her hands pinning his wrists to the plush pillow behind his head. They’re both breathing hard, cheeks flushed, and smiling.

Jon isn’t sure who started the kiss, but it doesn’t really matter. His arms are wrapped around Georgie’s neck and her hands are cupping his face, cool to the touch, nails lightly scratching his jawline. The bed is soft and Georgie is warm, pressing in from all sides, and it feels good. This he likes.

She kisses along his jawline and he feels heart rate pickup, flexing his hands (when did he curl them into fists?) as she presses against his neck. He wishes vaguely she’d put her hands back in his hair, he likes that soft feeling of pressure on his scalp. The smile on the ceiling is smirking at him now, the curve of the water stain looking more vicious than it had earlier.

Her hands are on his chest, she’s unbuttoning his shirt. Her hands feel too cold now, the shiver running through him one of anxiety, not desire, and Jon is sitting up before he knows what he’s doing. Fuck. Georgie, the saint, backs off him and kneels beside him on the bed. Jon’s hands flit to the undone buttons, fingertips circling them, suddenly unsure what to do.

“Are you okay, Jon?” Georgie’s voice is softer, eyes searching his face as she wedges her hands underneath her knees. He watches her wrists, the swing of her braids as she cocks her head, anything to avoid her eyes.

“I-” he gestures to her vaguely. “Y-You know I haven’t before, right?”

“Oh. Oh.” Georgie nods, understanding maybe a little better than he expected. “No offense, but I kinda figured, Jon. Not in a bad way!” She backpedals. “I just figured, you know, there’s no rush.”

“I mean, there’s a little of a rush,” he admonishes under his breath. At her hum of confusion: “You know, the whole-” he gestures again, as if he could pluck the word from the air. “-third date…thing.”

“Jon,” Georgie sighs his name, voice soft and so patient, a voice he doesn’t think he’s heard used anywhere else. “There’s no rule saying what we have to do when. Or how. Or ever, for that matter. It’s no one’s business what we do except ours.” She reaches out a hand, waiting for a slight nod, before taking his thin hands in her own. “Is that why you drank more than usual today?”

Jon nods, feeling a sag of relief spread throughout his body. “I just- I want to make you happy.”

“You do make me happy, you twit. That’s why we’re friends and it’s why I’m dating you.” She presses a kiss to his knuckles. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t need sex to be happy. Is it fun? Yes. But not necessary.”

Jon frowns, chewing on his lip and eyeing the window of her bedroom, tracing the rectangle with his eyes over and over again. “I-hmm.” Georgie watches him search for words; she knows how he ticks well enough to know they’re coming if she waits. “What if, hypothetically, I never had sex with you? Ever.”

“Well,” she gave his hands a light squeeze. “Hypothetically, I’d be totally okay with it, though I’d ask if you were asexual and make sure we had appropriate boundaries.”

“Huh?” The word draws him back to her face, the deep brown eyes that search his own. “Asexual. Like, no sex?” She nods, again, ever-patient. “Huh. Asexual.” He drops the pretense. “Maybe.”

Asexual. The word felt good as he rolled it around in his mouth. He traced the letters with his fingertips in cursive against his thigh as Georgie let go of him, rolling off her bed to pull on sweatpants and a t shirt instead of the dress she was wearing

“Let’s look into it, if you want. Together.” Georgie grins at him now, rye and warm. “I will have to ask you if want hypothetical crisps, because I’m hypothetically fucking starving.”

#aspec archive week #jonathan sims #Georgie barker #cw alcohol #cw internalized acephobia #/confusion #just some good confusing feelings #based on my own experiences? said who?#also! important note: Jon's stims are reflective of my own habits #just sayin #asexuality #ace #ace flavor: who knows? not even Jon

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grrrlsoverdramas · 3 years

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hi! can you explain a bit more about the 'child' translation? and how it affects the characters? i got a bit confused lol xx

(to preface, I haven't actually watch the latest ep so idk how they are referring to each other rn)(this is gonna be a long answer but you asked!!!)(if you are fluent in Korean and wanna correct me please do)

The TLDR is this: Woo-yeo refers to Dam as "child" when referencing her to others and internally, and "Ms. Dam" when speaking to her, and Dam refers to Woo-yeo as elder/old man. These terms are never translated correctly. Many English subs prefer to adjust the language to make it seem as though people on Korean shows refer to each other by name, although this is extremely rare. However, subs usually periodically correctly establish/translate the way people refer to one another.

The dynamic between Woo-yeo and Dam last week, though they clearly like each other, was still very polite, and Woo-yeo still took a largely removed view of her, speaking like an elder or even like an alien when describing or explaining her. It makes sense it takes him so long to realize he likes her, since he's been looking at her/talking about her like she is his descendent or neighborhood child. And she reinforces this by referring to him as "elder" -- something you would call your friend's great-grandfather. Of course you can understand some of that through the way they act, but especially since they're already acting in love, it's hard to see that him realizing he likes her is such a shift. When he says "She's so young" it isn't like he's suddenly realizing it, it's something he's been aware of this whole time and fully informs the way he speak to and about her.

It's not a big deal but I just think there are a lot of jokes and nuances that someone who doesn't know Korean are gonna miss when they watch this show, and it's not because it's ~sooo complex~ but it's because the subs are bad. I think the subs I'm watching are from iQiyi. More specifics abt the language being used is below the cut if you're interested.

Basically, when Woo-yeo refers to Dam in his internal monologue or when speaking to his "friends" (the other magical beings, the god (?) or Hyesun) he often refers to her as 아이, which means child. I would say that older adults often use this term to refer to kids and teens, so his use of the term doesn't mean he thinks of her as a literal child, but it is very much the vibe of an elder or even immortal referring to an innocent youth. People do use this word the same way as they do in English, to be condescending toward young adults and say they're like children, but that is not the tone with which Woo-yeo uses it. Hyesun for her part (I didn't go back and watch any of their convos so idr how she referred to her throughout the conversations) definitely called Dam 꼬마 at least once, which pretty much means kiddo. (This is is cause Hyesun is CUTE)

The subs NEVER translate when Woo-yeo or Hyesun use those words - they seem to always translate it as though the person's name or pronoun is being used. For example (this isn't exactly taken from the show), if Woo-yeo says, "그 아이는 여기 있으면 상당히 안전하다" he is literally saying something like "The child is safe here," but the subs would say something like "She is safe here."

Generally this happens a lot in Eng subs, because Korean rarely uses pronouns but English can sound really awkward without them. Often Korean sentences don't use subjects, and so subs will insert a name or pronoun that is "missing." This also happens when people are referred to euphemistically or by title, as Korean speakers generally avoid using names but that is not common practice in English. So someone referred to simply as "Director" in Korean will often be shown in subs as "Mr. Lee."

The problem is that this happens A LOT in the My Roommate is A Gumiho subs, and without good reason. Good subs will periodically use the actual terminology used in Korean, but you NEVER see in the subs that Woo-yeo call Dam "child." Similarly, the subs translate Dam's nickname for Woo-yeo, 어르신, as "sir" when it means elder or old man. This mostly makes sense as grammatically "sir" would sometimes be awkward in English. But I don't see why they couldn't switch between an accurate translation and something more natural in English.

#sorry I'm soooo bad at answering asks on time!!#my roommate is a gumiho #asks #this was asked last week lol :(

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minghaocouture · 3 years

Text

Pairing: Lee Jihoon x Fem!Reader Genre: Collage AU, Fluff, the tiniest angst Warning: Minor self esteem issues (from reader), Language WC: 2.9K

A/N: @woozisnoots my sweetie baby! This is your Holiday gift from me!! I wub yoooou and i hope you like this <333 The song mentioned in the fic is Tell me you love me by Bolbbalgan4 and i actually just kept listening to it on repeat while writing this lol, it’s such a cute song, and all the italic words are song lyrics (the english translations)! Also yes i shamelessly name dropped our friend group in this, don’t judge me

“You don’t accept my hi as usual I know you’re popular and handsome but you’ve always given the cold shoulder Only to me.”

The lyrics flowed easily from your lips and into the microphone, eyes closed as you felt the vibes of the chorus and attempted to put the right layers of emotion into the song as you did so. The instrumental paused just as the chorus ended you heard the familiar sound of your partner through the headphones.

“Can you run that one more time. Hold that last note a bit longer, and make the staccato in the first beginning a bit sharper.” On the other side of the glass sat Lee Jihoon, and the brains behind the operation despite this being a partnered project. At the beginning of this, you never would have thought that the two of you would have been working together so well. Not with how the project began.

You gave him an affirmation of your understanding and he began from the end of the pre-chorus, letting the melody and his test vocals fill your ears just before you began again.

When you had first been assigned partners, you were less than enthused. Sure, you had a major crush on Jihoon, his passion for music inspired you and you always loved watching him in class when he would perform. But, he was notoriously a rather critical partner. During the last partnered project in class a close friend of yours, Binu, had been assigned to work with him. She ended up confessing that she didn’t really get too much of a say on anything and that Jihoon did the project mostly by himself. Needless to say, she was much happier with this project being partnered with your mutual friend Mar.

The recording session wrapped up nicely and you began packing your things as you realized how late it was in the evening and your friends would start to get concerned if they didn’t hear back from you. So you pulled your phone from your bag and quickly messaged your group chat to let them know the situation. As you went to place your bag over your shoulder you heard the familiar sound of a stomach growling.

Your eyes quickly scanned the room and watched Jihoon sigh and sit back down at the recording booth, his laptop still open but he didn’t look like he had any intention of leaving to get sustenance. Much to your own surprise you decided to speak up.

“Hey, I was planning on grabbing some dinner. Did...you wanna come too? We’ve been here for a while and we could probably use some food.” You suggested, an inviting smile plastered itself onto your face. You hoped it didn’t seem fake, after all you had invited Jihoon to eat before and he had always denied the offer.

Much like all previous times, you saw his rather small head shake in denial.

“Nah, I’ve got some stuff to finish up here. I’ll probably grab something before heading back to my dorms...or maybe I’ll ask Mingyu to pick me up some dinner.” You’d heard about Mingyu before, his roommate who he says he tolerates but you can tell that he does really care about the guy from how he talks about it.

Most people say that Jihoon is hard to read and closed off, but you know they’re wrong. He just...emotes differently, he has his own ways of showing affection and you can see it in his eyes and the little things he does and says. Being around him like this has honestly only made your crush worse.

“Well, alright, but you better eat something and go home tonight. I don’t wanna come back here tomorrow and see you in this same outfit cause you haven’t gone home.” Which...had happened on more than one occasion during this project.

He shrugged, not turning back to face you.

“I brought extra clothes this time.”

***

“Seriously? I can’t believe he said no again! Ugh, I hate him and you deserve better than to pine after that short stack!” Rolling your eyes as you listened to Krys ranting once again.

Since Jihoon refuted your invitation you decided to invite out your best friends. The 5 of you heading to a nearby fried chicken place, crowding into the booth that your friend group had basically claimed (when it was available at least)

“It’s fine Krys, he’s just really into his work. He’s probably going to be in the studio editing until all hours of the morning.” You explained before shoving some of the complimentary salad into your mouth as you took a break from the chicken itself. “I might even take him some food before I head back to the dorms.”

“Nu-uh! I’m not letting you! That boy doesn’t even talk to you outside of class, he doesn’t deserve your time or your energy!” Krys exclaimed.

“I mean, he kinda does. Talk to her, I mean he waved at her last week.” Maya brought up in between her unsuccessful attempts at stealing the rest of the table’s pickled radish. “We were walking to the lounge and she saw him and waved at him, and he finally waved back.”

“Oh what, after ignoring her for a whole semester? Real nice of him. My best friend deserves better!” She declared, aggressively taking another bite of her chicken before continuing. “If I weren’t already dating the best man in the whole world, I would just date you myself.”

This brought the rest of the table another fit of laughter. It was never a dull moment in your friend group and you were always grateful that you had them in your life.

“This just in, Krys won’t leave big dick Wonwoo so her best friend can have a good relationship.” Mar joked, cackling at the thought. The laughter seemed to get worse when she realized that Wonwoo himself had just walked up to the table to set down a drink refill for Binu. The male’s face was flushed red, obviously having heard the conversation. Which prompted another round of joyful laughter from the group.

It was a good night, but your mind still drifted back to Jihoon, who was most likely still sitting alone in the studio, hungry yet still hard at work. As the conversation drifted away from you finally, you got Wonwoo’s attention and ordered a small meal for take out with a plan to deliver the food before returning home. Even if Krys would give you shit for it.

***

“Jihoon, it’s me” You knocked on the studio door as you entered, assuming you wouldn’t be interrupting anything since you saw the light on but heard now sounds from inside. Surprisingly, or rather unsurprisingly, you got no response as you entered. Simply making your way in despite any acknowledgement.

The more surprising thing was what you found once you entered. There, still sitting in the rolly chair with his head firmly planted on the desk in front of his work laptop was Lee Jihoon. Fast asleep, small snores leaving his frame as he dreamed. It would honestly be pretty cute if it weren’t for the fact that you knew this was probably happening because of how much he overworked himself.

You let out a small sigh, placing the bag on the small coffee table in the room (you didn’t want to set it on the desk with all the equipment) and grabbed his jacket that he had tossed onto the nearby sofa before draping it over his shoulders. You couldn’t really do much more for him without lifting the male up and transferring him to the couch, and you were pretty sure he would wake up if you even attempted that.

“Night Jihoon.” With that final goodbye you exited the room and returned back to your dorm to get some homework done for a few of your other classes.

It was about 2:30 the next morning when your phone vibrated, indicating a message. Sparing a glance to the device you read the familiar name ‘Lee Jihoon’ as the sender. The message was no more than a simple “Thank you.” but that was good enough for you.

***

As you expected, even being the harmony vocals for the song Jihoon’s talent far outshined your main vocals. You weren’t upset or anything, but you were definitely starting to regret letting him talk you into the main vocal position for this project. You didn’t even really have any commentary to or feedback to give him. His voice fit the song perfectly and you could feel the emotion in his words as he sang.

When he exited the booth and took a seat on the sofa to take a break you spoke up.

“Are you sure you shouldn’t be the one leading the song?” You questioned, head tilted to the side a bit as you watched him gulp down a bottle of water. Your words took him off guard and he fixed you with a rather confused look, so you continued. “I mean, you have such a great voice and I really think you capture the emotion in the song better than I do. So like…”

“What are you talking about?” He cut off your ramblings before you could continue, his eyes staring intently into your own. “You have an amazing voice, I’m literally blown away anytime you step into the booth. It’s part of the reason I was glad we got partnered for this project.”

It was almost as if your brain had short circuited, you didn’t know what to say. He had never spoken about your singing like that before, much less admit that he was...glad you were his partner. A part of you worried that he was lying just to spare your feelings, but the logical part knew that Jihoon wasn’t someone who would waste the energy to do that.

“Let me put it this way,” he began again. “If I didn’t think you were doing a good job, if i thought your vocals would get us points docked off, then I wouldn’t have let you sing the Main. Got it?” His gaze seemed to pierce right to your very soul and you couldn’t find it in yourself to argue back and decided to just take his word for it. So you simply nodded a response.

It seemed that Jihoon wasn’t done surprising you tonight, as a smile so tender made its way onto his face. Your heart skipped a beat as you looked into his eyes, you could feel the heat rushing to your face and you prayed that he couldn’t hear the loud throbbing of your heart as he watched you.

The moment was soon broken by the loud blaring of a familiar pop song, Jihoon’s face dropping at the sound. He quickly grabbed his phone off of the coffee table and put it up to his ear. You decided to be polite and at least try not to listen in, pulling out your own phone and messaging the group chat to see what was up.

“What do you want, Mingyu?” He began, definitely sounding more irritated than before he had taken the call. You couldn’t hear the voice on the other end but from the gumbling that left Jihoon’s lips you wouldn’t have been surprised if his roommate was pushing his buttons for whatever reason.

“No. I’m not and you need to stop asking. I’m working right now.” He paused for a moment, his voice lowering to almost a whisper as if that would make you unable to hear him. “Yes, she’s here too, so stop asking. Mingy-” He groaned as the male on the other end seemed to cut him off, you weren’t too sure with what but now you could vaguely hear the loud voice of his roommate on the line and couldn’t help laughing softly. The sound causing Jihoon’s eyes to flicker over to you, causing your heart to skip a beat as you quickly tried to make it seem like you were just laughing at something on your phone.

“Shut it. We’ll talk when I get home...yes i’m coming back tonight!” With an irritated sigh, Jihoon ended the call. You weren’t sure he gave Mingyu any time to give a farewell but if you were being honest the conversation had been pretty amusing.

Setting his phone down on the couch, Jihoon let out a sigh and ran a hand through his thick black locks. A silence falling over the two of you as you typed away on your phone, trying not to make eye contact again. You were so engrossed with your act you didn’t even hear when Jihoon stood from the couch and made his way over to the chair you were currently occupying.

“Before we call it, could you re-record from the bridge to the end. When I was editing it last night there was some feedback so I wanted to get a better recording.”

“Oh, um yeah sure!” You weren’t sure why he hadn’t mentioned that before, and you didn’t recall hearing any feedback from your vocals when he was recording. But still, you took him at his word and entered the small recording booth once again.

“I’ll start from just before the bridge.” He said over the speakers once your headphones were pulled snuggly over your ears. You cleared your throat and took a deep breath before nodding and signaling him to start.

“I really like you a lot But do you think we can’t be together? I feel small in my school uniform skirt Looking big on me, Yeah The tall, pretty girls are all around you. Oh whoa~”

Getting through the bridge you poured your emotions into it. Thinking about your feelings for Jihoon and the longing for him to feel the same for you. Honestly, through this whole process the song the two of you had written was so...cathartic for you. Expressing things you never verbalized, how despite your attempts Jihoon never really spoke to you outside of class but he always seemed so kind when you were working. Or how, because of his looks and his talent he seemed to be surrounded by girls who thought he was wonderful.

“If you like me, or you love me Just say yes, yes, yes And then I’m your girlfriend And your my boyfriend Tell me you like me.”

The last few chords streamed through your headphones and a silence fell over the room. Just as you were about to take the headphones off you heard a voice come through, the familiar voice of your partner and crush.

“I like you...a lot.”

You froze like a deer in headlights, almost positive that you had misheard him. Eyes quickly landing on him, watching him through the glass. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but through the tint you could see the soft pink dusting his cheeks and the tips of his ears as his eyes stared down at the desk.

“Don’t say anything. I just...wanted to let you know. The reason I didn’t want to sing the main vocals is because I was worried you would be able to tell.” He continued, eyes still not lifting from the table to meet your gaze. “All of the lyrics I added were about you. I just...changed the pronouns.”

It was unbelievable to think that Lee Jihoon could possibly love you back. He was too...wonderful, and the fact that the both of you had used this song to express those feelings was almost unreal.

Thinking back on it, on all the interactions you had attempted to have with him outside of class. You realized that he wasn’t ignoring you, his eyes had always met your own but he was just uncertain. He had lacked the confidence to speak to you despite your obvious interest in him. It made your pinning seem silly now.

You still honored his wishes and said nothing, simply taking the headphones off and draping them onto the music stand before exiting the booth. Stopping right next to the object of your affections.

“Jihoon, look at me? Please?” Hesitantly, his gaze turned to you and he looked flustered, more flustered than you had ever seen him. “I like you too, a whole lot.”

Your words had his eyes lighting up, a look of disbelief crossing his face as you continued.

“Could I...would it be alright if I kiss you?” Before today, you had only ever imagined kissing Jihoon. What it would be like had been nothing more than a small fantasy that you thought about, but seeing him nod looking away still flustered, it almost seemed to good to be anything more than a dream.

Hesitantly, you reached out a hand to caress his cheek, your heart speeding up as he lifted a hand to press over your own. When your lips met, it was like the stars had aligned.

It wasn’t a perfect kiss, it was shy and soft but the emotion you felt simply from his lips pressing back against your own was enough to cause your heart to soar. It was like two puzzle pieces finding one another how well his lips felt against your own. You decided in that moment that he would get to hear everyday how much you absolutely loved him, he would never need to ask or hesitate again. Cause that’s what kind of love you wanted to give him, and all you needed to do was say it.

#caratwritersclub #kdiarynet #kdiner #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen scenario #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt scenario #woozi x reader #woozi imagine #woozi scenario #jihoon x reader #jihoon imagine #jihoon scenario

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agenzproject · 3 years

Text

Love above all

It’s been years. Years since I last felt the comfort in her texts.

I thought I could move on. How foolish I was. I find myself chuckling as I recall old me bravely telling her goodbye.

I stare out the window of the car as the quiet uber driver takes me to the hotel I will be staying in. London is exactly as I expected it to be. Gloomy, Grey and rainy.

Staring at the raindrops falling on the window, my mind starts chasing a train of thought. If there’s anything that movies have taught me, it’s that the heart must always be followed. And my heart, it yearns for her.

I haven’t heard from her since I turned sixteen, which was six years ago. I wonder if she still remembers me. I am sure she does not. Yet, I must satisfy this desire within the muscle that dominates my nerves.

We met through text, on a BTS fan account.

I didn’t even know her real name yet, ‘lover’ was enough to know her. We never shared pictures, yet I saw her in my dreams. I had never heard her voice yet; her words were enough to soothe me. I didn’t even know if she was a girl, yet I imagined being with her forever. I didn’t even know if she was real, yet I led myself to find comfort in my moments shared with her.

Was I chasing a dream, or was I going to reunite with the love of my life?

The sudden halt of the uber pulls me out of my thoughts and I look over to see that we have parked in front of the hotel I have a room reserved in.

I smile and thank the driver, to which he responds with an earnest nod. He is a nice man. As I step out, he calls out to me.

“You sure you don’t need an umbrella?”

I look up to see the sky painted Grey, my favorite colour. A smile takes its place on my face and I shake my head. “No, sir, I don’t think that will be necessary. Thank you for offering.”

He nods once again and waits for me to reach the Valet standing at the front door before he drives away.

The valet, a young man in his twenties with blonde hair and brown eyes, bends down in a curt bow upon my arrival and I nod at him.

As I’m about to enter through the sliding doors, I hear yelling and turn to see a man, who I assume is in his thirties, shouting at a girl who is no less than ten for running out onto the road and playing in the rain with her favourite clothes on.

The exchange warms my heart as I watch the girl nod and the father then lead her over to another building, soft yet angry as he does so. It reminds me of my own father. A strong-willed man with a firm hand on things. And it also reminds me of why I have to be in London like this in the first place.

I sigh at the thought, recalling all those nights he yelled at me.

I walk over to the receptionist and smile at the young-looking woman. She offers me a well-practiced smile in return. “How may I help you, miss?”

“I made a reservation under the name Aqsa Malik.” I tell her.

She nods and after seeing proof of my identity, hands me the key to my room on the second floor.

I leave for the elevator after thanking her but before I press the button, I notice two young ladies sitting in the lounge, close to each other. They clearly aren’t English and judging by the curly hair and Arabic written on the bags, I would assume they are from North Africa.

I feel a smile tugging at my lips as I press the elevator button after noticing the two marital silver bands on their ring fingers.

Inside the elevator, I inhale and exhale deeply, happy for those two women, who seemed only a tad bit older than me.

It is a good time to be homosexual. I hope that this works out for me too. I hope that the girl I came to see resonates with me. I hope she agrees that now is the right time. Because six years ago, if you were born a Muslim female, being lesbian always ended in tragedy.

I was hoping this would be an exception as I entered my three-star hotel room, heading straight for the bed, ready for some rest.

Before I slip into my bed-sheets for some sleep, I play a few songs that remind me of her.

Blue and Grey by V is what encouraged me to confess to her.

Rewrite the Stars from the musical, The Greatest Showman, was the song we listened to think of each other.

Talking to the Moon by Bruno Mars was what made me cry every night after we cut communication.

These songs lull me into a peaceful sleep as the soft rain keeps patting my window, giving the room a sense of coolness.

He yelled at me. He told me to forget her.

I wished I had just turned the tab off when my father got home, pretending as if nothing had ever happened. But I didn’t, and he ended up reading all of my texts with her, with a long lecture following afterwards.

Being a Muslim with an ex-girlfriend isn’t easy, especially when you’re just fifteen.

“You’re too young to even think about these things!” He yelled. “How can you determine your sexuality at just fifteen! Straight is the natural orientation of a person, drop this lesbian bullshit!”

I hadn’t cried. I didn’t say anything in response. It would have been of no use. Rewa had already broken up with me, albeit she had said she would still like for us to be friends.

I had apologized to my father a few days later and snuck online through another device, from where I was caught later on as well, all of this happening in a span of just two months.

Three months later, I had a friend contact Rewa’s social media and tell her I’m okay.

We both finally had the chance to talk again over Wattpad.

I smiled, satisfied as I texted her a detailed message on how I was planning to meet her, asking her as much details as the online relationship would allow me to.

I promised her that till the day we met, I would sing Blue and Grey every night the moon was visible in the sky. And I did just that.

But then a text appeared on my screen once she had received the message.

‘Aqsa, I think we should break up.’

Confusion filled my insides. Weren’t we already broken up? If she didn’t want to be in a relationship with me, why would she lead me on and sweet talk me like that so much?

I was furious. For a few moments, I had no idea what to say to her.

Then, I did.

‘Wait, aren’t we already broken up?

Did you seriously forget that you broke up with me?

Did you really sweet talk me all that much just to make me go through the worst moment of my life a second time?

Now I know what my dad feels like every time I go up to him with a half-assed apology with no intention of listening to him a second time.

Unless you have anything important to say,

Goodbye, Rewa.’

And that was the last thing I ever said to her. She didn’t answer and I deleted our chats, promising myself to never look back. Oh, how bad I am at sticking to promises.

Maybe I should’ve gone easier on her. She was just thirteen, after all.

I haven’t sung Blue and Grey to the moon since.

The words come out of my mouth as I stare at the moon, having woken up from my sleep at 3 a.m. My voice comes out deep and heavy, my heart aching with every worse.

Where’s my angel?

I’m sick and tired of everything,

Someone come and save myself,

‘Cuz I am feeling blue and Grey,

Everywhere I go, everything I see,

Can you look at me ‘cause I am blue and Grey?

Every time I smile, Every time I cry,

Can you look at me ‘cause I am blue and Grey?

Oh, I just wanna be happier,

Baby don’t you let me go,

I feel tired in the winter sky,

I just wanna feel stronger

The tears slip down my cheeks without warning as I sit at the chair, huddling into myself further.

I hope she remembers me when I pay her a surprise visit in the morning.

Anxiety is getting the best of me as I stand in front of her college dorm room. Should I knock?

What if her roommate thinks I’m weird? What if Rewa reports me to security? What if she hates me? What if she wants to have nothing to do with me?

I try walking away but then tell myself that I didn’t come all the way from Pakistan just to run away when I am right at her doorstep. I miss her, and whether she does or not, doesn’t matter. I have to see her.

I knock at the door, swallowing down my fear as a shudder runs through my body.

I have to do this. There is no turning back now.

The door opens. A tall, dark skinned, African woman, looks down at me.

It is her.

My breath gets caught in my throat as I stare at her in awe.

It has to be her. Dark skin, curly black hair tied in a pony above her head, and about six feet tall. It is, without a doubt, Olanrewaju, my ex-girlfriend.

Holy shit.

I am not prepared for this.

“Um, can I help you?” She asks, concerned. Her voice is deep, yet smooth as she speaks in a British accent.

I just offer a weak nod, still taking her appearance in for the first time. I try to say hi but it just comes out as a guttural croak. Embarrassing.

“Um, are you okay?” She touches my shoulder. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around before. What’s your name?”

Upon her touching my shoulder, my body tenses tenfold. She quickly retreats upon noticing my panicked expression.

“I’ll let you inside and give you a glass of water.” She takes a hold of my forearm, and gently walks me into her dorm.

I don’t register my surroundings as I continue to stare at her strong and bold figure. This is the love of my life and she doesn’t even know it.

She sits me down on what I assume is her bed as she walks over to the jug of water on the table. Thankfully, I caught her alone. Roommate isn’t home.

Rewa presses a full glass of water up to my lips and makes sure it all goes down, allowing me to inhale deep breaths, trying to regain my posture.

It takes a few minutes, but I get better.

I nod at her, offering a small smile.

She smiles back. “Now, tell me, what’s your name?”

I stare at her, my gaze piercing hers. “Aqsa.”

There is a flash of something in her eyes that I hope is familiarity and I think I am right when she takes a double take. “What?”

“Aqsa.” I repeat, as if I have no idea what history she might have with that name. “Why?”

She frowns in confusion, her eyes scanning my entire figure before she shakes her head. “Oh, uh, nothing.”

I nod.

“Where’re you from?” She asks. It’s no secret that she’s trying to figure out if I am the Aqsa she knew all those years ago.

“Pakistan.” I tell her.

Her frown deepens. “Where did you grow up?”

I have decided that I’m going to let her figure it out on her own and act as if I’ve never met her. “Why do you ask?”

She shakes her head a bit, then raises her eyebrows. “Middle East?”

She remembers. I nod.

Her breath hitches just a little and she visibly gulps, studying my features carefully.

“Do I know you?” She asks, her voice small and doubtful.

I stare into her big eyes and nod.

She exhales and looks away, leaning back in the chair next to the bed. She folds her arms across her chest, pondering the situation, her expression unreadable. But the tension in her posture can be sensed without having to try twice. “What are you doing here?”

“I told you I’d find my way to you, didn’t I?” I tilt my head, a soft smile on my face.

She clenches her jaw and I can feel the heavy emotion in the atmosphere that replaces her prior concern. “You also said goodbye.” Her voice is heavy.

I pursue my lips in a thin line and nod. “That wasn’t a promise. I promised that I would come to you when I could, though.”

“How did you find me?” Her voice is a bit steady, yet forceful.

I smile. “You told me you lived in London. I have connections around the place. I have the internet. I know you wanted to study mechanical engineering so searching in all the good colleges amongst the mechanical engineering students was the best way to go about it.”

She is looking at me now, her dark chocolate eyes searching my face for something. “You remember?” Her voice cracks as the words leave her mouth.

I nod, trying my best to not get teary-eyed five minutes into our reunion.

Rewa clears her throat and tries to regain her steady posture. “And what about you? What are you doing?”

Ah, small talk. I allow myself to relax. “I’m studying medicine. I’m in my third year. Also, I’m writing.”

She nods and points at something behind me. I turn around to see a small wooden shelf nailed to the wall above her bed, all of my books resting on top of it.

A small smile appears on my face and my jaw stings, an indicator that I am about to cry. “That’s all of them.”

“I had two since when you first wrote them four years ago and then I just gave up, trying to forget you.” She tells me. “But then Noah noticed them and bought more books as gifts.”

“Noah?” I turn to look at her, frowning a bit in confusion.

She sighs and sits back once again. “He thought that maybe I like the writer, so got all the books he could find written by her.”

I nod, that not being what I wanted for the answer. “Who’s Noah?”

Rewa sighs again. “Forget him. He’s unimportant.”

I clutch the glass in my hands tighter, my desire for knowing who Noah was increasing. I am a curious person. I try to shrug it off by distracting myself with something else.

“Where’s your roommate?” I ask.

She looks to the side to see an empty bed. “Semester just started, so she’s out with her friends.”

“You got any?”

Rewa nods. “One is at home due to an emergency and another is probably at her job right now.”

“Do you have a job?”

She shakes her head. “My parents are still paying for me, it’s all going smoothly. They say I have to start paying my own fees when third year starts.”

I nod. That sounds reasonable.

“They’re divorced, right?” I remember she mentioned it.

She nods and there’s an emotion on her face I have a little trouble trying to understand. She seems satisfied, yet in pain, as if she wished I didn’t remind her of her parents. But on the other hand, she seems happy that I cared enough to remember.

“How’s your sister?” I ask, recalling that she mentioned having a younger sister.

Rewa’s expression eases a little as she thinks of her sister. “She’s doing great. Last year of high school then college.”

“That’s good.” I nod.

The door to the room opens and we both turn to see a girl about Rewa’s age standing there, studying me with her critical green eyes, attempting to determine who I am. Her white skin is covered in patches of brown, as if she was playing in the mud.

Once she’s established that she doesn’t know me, she turns to Rewa for an explanation. “Ju?” Her voice is an indicator to the fact that she’s sensed something is wrong.

Rewa sighs. “An old friend.” Then she addresses me. “Aqsa, this is my roommate, Jessica.”

Jessica advances towards me in a friendly manner, extending her hand out for me to shake, her thin lips forming a warm smile. “Nice to meet you. You can call me Jess.” She has a Scottish accent.

I smile back and shake her hand, nodding. “Nice to meet you too, Jess.”

She nods, her curly, red hair bobbing as she does so. “Where’re you from?” She lets my hand go.

“Pakistan.” I answer. “You?”

“Scotland.” She laughs. “Anyways, I have to hit the shower. See you later.”

I nod. “See you.”

Once Jessica is gone, I turn back to Rewa. “Wanna go out for a drive?”

“You have a car?”

“I rented it.”

She seems to ponder over the offer for a bit, as if carefully weighing the pros and cons of going on a ride with her ex. Finally, she nods. “I don’t see why I can’t go.”

The walk towards the rented Honda is quiet as Rewa seems to be deep in thought while I take in my surroundings, not feeling too nervous to notice them anymore. It’s still cloudy outside, but I think it won’t rain till late in the evening.

I get into the car parked outside the campus and Rewa hesitates once she’s opened the door to the passenger seat. She bows down and looks at me. “Where are we going?”

“We’re circling the next five blocks until we get tired.” I tell her.

She whips out her phone and I think she texts somebody that. A faint smile appears on my face. This is my Rewa. Wary of everybody, no matter how trustworthy they may seem.

She then enters the car and closes the door, fastening her seatbelt.

I start the car and smile at her. “You really think a bestselling author would try to kidnap you?”

She gives me a sheepish smile, a little pink creeping up her cheeks. “You only have one bestseller and I don’t want to take any chances.”

I nod, turning forwards, driving onto the road. “You’d probably win in a fight against me anyway.”

At that, she laughs and that is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard in my life. More beautiful than a waterfall splashing into a river below it. I want to be the one who keeps her laughing like that all the time.

Her laugh dies down after some time and we fall quiet.

“Do you still listen to K-pop?” I ask her, breaking the silence.

“Sometimes.”

“BTS?”

“Yeah. They disbanded though.”

“I know that.” I nod. “Can I play a song?”

“Which one?”

“I don’t know…” I think for a minute, observing the wet streets of London. “Spring day?”

She seems to ponder over it too before agreeing to play Spring day. Once the music plays in the car, something… settles within me. I feel… calm. I don’t know if it’s because of the song or because I’m finally meeting Rewa, but I enjoy this feeling.

The song ends in a few minutes and it’s quiet again. But this time, it’s welcome. It’s not awkward, it feels good.

“Can we be friends again?” I ask all of a sudden.

She doesn’t respond for at least two minutes before nodding. “Wont your dad find out?”

“He doesn’t need to know it’s you.” I smile. “Besides, I’ll be independent in two years and have a job, so no worries.”

“Wont he get you married after that?” She asks.

Why does she care about that? I suggested being friends. Maybe… she’s hoping we can be more? My stomach does a flip at that exciting thought.

“I’ll get out of there.” I tell her. “Do a job here, be free of their restricting opinions.”

She doesn’t respond.

“Will you give me another chance?” In the silence, I ask her the question I have been aching to ask for a long time.

“At dating?” She gets right down to the point.

I shrug. “If you want to. I just want to be a part of your life again.”

“So, it doesn’t matter how?” She asks.

I draw in a deep breath. “I just want to make you happy. I still love you. You can decide how I make you happy. I can be whatever you want me to be. My love for you exists beyond any label this world could slap on us.”

There’s silence again. Then she speaks up. “You’re still the same.”

I blink, eyes still on the road. “What?”

“Before, when we used to text,” She says. “You’d always say something that would fluster me so much. You’re still the same.”

At that, I smile, recalling all the many times I would say something cheesy and make her feel butterflies in her stomach. “Glad to know.”

She gives a soft chuckle in response. “I think we can start off fresh, with you as my friend. I still need time getting over Noah, so-“

“Noah was your date?”

“Yeah.” Her voice is quiet.

“What happened?” I ask, concerned. I swear if this Noah hurt her, I might just have to put ‘become a hitwoman’ on my bucket list, not that I haven’t already considered that.

She lets out a puff of breath, hugging herself. “I don’t know, we both wanted very different things from life. He was too serious about it and I wanted to focus on my future.”

“Oh.” That is all I can say. Noah hadn’t hurt her so there was no reason to be mad. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“So, we can be friends?” I smile.

“Of course.”

I feel all giddy on the inside.

I look to my side and smile at her, slowing the car down. She smiles back, both of us sharing eye contact for a swift moment before I turn back to the road.

I go back to the radio on the car and play Seesaw by Suga, a song and artist we both adore to pieces.

And at that moment, as Suga’s soothing voice instills a sense of safety and Rewa at my side awakes a sense of assurance, I feel complete.

Who knows?

Maybe I can make her love me again, we can resume our relationship and maybe even get married.

Live a happy life.

Six years later, standing at the altar, Blue and Grey playing in the background, as I hold Rewa’s hands, I realize just how right I was.

“I love you, Aqsa.”

“I love you so, my love.”

“I declare you married! You may kiss!”

And we do. A beautiful, passionate kiss, marking the beginning of our life together.

Some tales do have happy endings.

A Story by Riley Gray

#submission #short story #a gen z project #1k to 5k

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lockefanfic · 4 years

Text

Business Trip - Pt 15: Masks

Before you knew it you were on your feet, and striding over to where Joy is standing with her back to you, sipping from her water bottle. You step up behind her, and place your hands on her hips.

The sudden contact startles her slightly, but she doesn’t resist for long - you could tell she almost expected it, and that she welcomed the feel of you pressed against her back. She leans back into you, and you take it as permission to wrap your arms closer around her torso, delighting in the feel of her bare midriff against your forearms.

“Maybe you can finish what you’ve started now,” you say, bringing your mouth to her ear and placing a soft kiss on the side of her neck. You don’t see her do it, but you can almost feel her lips curling into a smile.

The second you heard the door creak open, you knew it was trouble. At the moment, though, you didn’t know it would herald a fundamental change in your life.

The creaky front door, badly needing some lubrication or perhaps new hinges, announced the arrival of two young women into your apartment, shaking you from your quiet reverie as you and Sana shared breakfast on your kitchen table.

“Yeah, I dunno, I kinda prefer Lucky Charms over Frosted Flakes,” came the first female voice - a voice you were well familiar with, for it belonged to your girlfriend, Hirai Momo.

“Only losers prefer Lucky Charms,” came the reply from a younger voice - Chou Tzuyu.

“Well then I guess-”

Momo’s sentence is cut short as she and Tzuyu enter the kitchen to find you and Sana, the latter wearing only a long t-shirt of yours, having breakfast. Because fate had a sense of humor, Sana just so happened to be in the middle of a bite of Frosted Flakes.

It was one of those moments in your life when time stood absolutely still - the three women in your life that you had most recently had an intimate experience with, one your girlfriend, one more or less your part-roommate and part-ward, and the third a former flame - fate was, truly, an outright comedian. Sana and Momo stare at each other, their gazes drifting somewhere between surprise on Sana’s part and near contempt on Momo’s. Tense seconds pass in heavy silence.

“Sana,” Tzuyu says, showing remarkable composure in being the first one to actually say something, “Hisashiburi.”

“Hisashiburi,” Sana answers, her pronounciation slow, her eyes still locked on the older Japanese woman.

The teenager’s gaze drifts back and forth between Momo and Sana. She was young, but not dense; she knew something was going on here, even if she didn’t know the specifics or the history, and she knew that whatever it was, you and Momo had some talking to do about it.

“Sana, how is the Japanese office doing? Perhaps you can tell me about it in the living room, or something…”

“Yes,” Sana says, seeing an exit when it was shown to her, “I’d be happy to do that.”

Sana and Tzuyu scurry into the living room, the older girl holding down the short t-shirt that was the only article of clothing she was wearing in a vain attempt to cover more of herself.

As soon as the two young women have left, you stand up and begin to speak, only for Momo to cut you off.

“Don’t. Just don’t,” Momo says, her tone giving away a hint of hurt in addition to the outright anger she was only barely keeping from the surface. She gives you a look that cuts deep into your heart before turning and starting to leave.

You catch up with her in the hallway, and despite calling her name the woman keeps walking towards the elevator, only stopping when you grasp her upper arm. Momo twists her arm away from you - she had never done that before, never resisted your touch, and the knowledge of that hurt you deeply.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Momo spits, the anger and hurt mixed plainly on her face.

“Momo, it’s nothing. I had to tell Sana what happened at my meeting in Seoul with SM, and one thing led to another. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“You know I don’t give a shit about that,” Momo says, crossing her arms, “I don’t give a shit who you fuck. God knows you’re living with a teenager that’s more or less a fuck buddy. But her!? She just tried to destroy us. Or did you forget about that after she batted her fucking eyelashes at you?”

“That’s not it, Momo. SM really used her, and threatened to-”

“I don’t care if they threatened to throw her off a bridge. She stole our tech. She betrayed us, and if it weren’t for some clever work on our part we’d be out on our asses. Our careers, and probably our lives, ruined. She committed a crime just to spite us. And you’re just going to forget about that? You’re-”

Momo stops mid sentence, her hand coming to cover her mouth as a look of realization appears on her features. More seconds pass in silence as Momo struggles to put words to the idea that had just made itself known, unwelcomed, in her heart.

“Do you… do you have feelings for her again?”

You open your mouth, ready to immediately deny her accusation. You want to tell her no, you didn’t have feelings for Minatozaki Sana, and that no, you were never did - but it takes a second - a split second - longer than you thought it would. Later you would wonder what exactly caused that momentary delay; but you knew what it was. Momo knew. You both knew. She caught it, caught that split second, and knew what it meant.

“Oh my god,” she says, “you… you have feelings for Sana.”

“Momo, I-”

“No. I… I knew you always did. I knew it,” Momo continues, her gaze cast downward and her head shaking slightly from side to side, eyes fluttering open and closed in a vain attempt to keep the tears gathering at the corners of her eyes from spilling over. She takes small steps backward, as though she were physically repulsed by you. Her limbs quiver, and her voice shakes as she gives nervous voice to her realization.

“You only settled for me because she lived in Japan. I was easier. I work with you, and live just a few minutes away. And I was already in love with you. But you wanted her. You always have. I’m just a consolation prize...”

“Momo, stop. Stop this. Let’s sit down and talk-”

“No. No, I’m done talking. I’m done here,” she says as a single tear falls from her right eye. It takes an eternity to fall down her cheek, but when it hits her chin she finds the strength to say one final thing.

“...We’re done here.”

Hirai Momo turns and heads towards the stairs of the fire escape. You want to stop her, but your limbs do not respond to the orders of your brain, and you remain frozen, overwhelmed by weight of Momo’s last words and the meaning they carried.

You realize, as you stumble, defeated, back to your apartment, that Momo admitted she was in love with you. And this was how you found out; not during some romantic outpouring of affection, but as she was breaking up with you. The pain of it struck you hard, and you found yourself pressing your forehead against the wall of your hallway, your hands balling into fists as you cursed the set of circumstances that led you to losing most important relationship of your life.

---

“At least you’re racking up the frequent flier points.”

Park Choa’s observation shakes you from your quiet reverie, and you physically shake your head in an attempt to at least acknowledge her comment. You rub your brow with tense fingers in a vain attempt to ease your mind - you felt a headache coming.

“You look like hell, boss,” Choa adds, adding further insult to injury.

“Thanks, Choa,” you answer sarcastically.

The two of you are about four hours into the fifteen hour flight to Seoul. In an attempt to distract yourself from the afternoon’s events with Momo, you emailed Joy from Red Velvet using the email address she left in your jacket. She insisted that meeting up in person was the only way she would be willing to discuss just how she could help you, and so you found yourself hopping on the next flight out of town. You decided to bring Choa along to help translate, unsure of Joy’s fluency in English and knowing that Wendy probably wouldn’t be present - not that you wanted her to be there, anyway.

After filling her in on the history between Sana, Momo and yourself, Tzuyu, in another instance of appearing wiser than her years, called you out on it - she said that leaving for Seoul was simply running from your problems with Momo instead of dealing with them and perhaps salvaging your relationship. You preferred to see it as finding some time away to clear your head - not that you were particularly succeeding at it at the moment.

“It’s understandable. It’s been a pretty crazy month or so for you.”

“It’s been a pretty crazy year or so, more like,” you reply, drawing an understanding nod from Choa.

“Listen, boss,” she begins, “We should get this discussion out of the way before we land. You know it’s not usually my place to comment on your personal life. But Momo is one of my closest friends. And you have to admit, from her point of view, seeing you with Sana right after what she did to us in Taiwan doesn’t look good.”

“I know, I know,” you answer, trying in vain to rub your temples harder as if it would keep the impending headache at bay.

“I also know that she really had feelings for you. I think she’s was probably in love with you, to be quite honest. And I also know that if you really tried, if you both really worked at it, that you two can get over this. You’ll have to work your ass off to make it up to her, but if she really loves you - and I believe she does - you’ll both get over this.”

“I know,” you answer again, this time truly knowing that what Choa was saying was true. You found yourself being thankful once more that the young woman next to you was in your life. Not only was she a great colleague - she was an even better friend. She told you what you needed to hear, whether you liked it or not.

“I appreciate it, Choa,” you add, “and when we get back I’ll speak to Momo about this. Maybe we can work it out.”

“Good,” the girl replies with a smile, “now do you need a drink or something to help you sleep? Wine? Beer? A handjob?”

You chuckle out loud at her last suggestion, and the bright smile on Choa’s round, cute face brings a smile to your own.

“Thanks, but I think I can make do.”

“Good night, boss.”

“Good night, Choa.”

For the umpteenth time you lean your head back against the airplane head cushion and close your eyes. Mercifully, you eventually find your way to sleep.

---

“Why is she here?”

You knew enough about women to know that the look Joy gives Choa is one of complete and utter disdain.

“Choa is here to translate. I wasn’t sure of your fluency in English. We can continue this conversation in Korean, if you would be more comfortable in your native tongue.”

“I can speak English just fine, thank you very much,” Joy replies, giving you a sharp look. Her English is moderately accented, but she clearly had a good grasp on the language.

“Nonetheless, Choa is a valued colleague. She will stay,” you state, knowing without seeing that your defense of her has caused a smug smile to appear on Choa’s lips. At the very least, the two women clearly did not like each other and Choa’s presence would throw off any plans Joy might have had that centered around you being alone. You were happy to take any advantage you could get.

Joy lets out a disapproving snort through her nose. Turning away from the two of you, she takes a sip of the iced americano she had ordered from the small, mostly empty coffee shop the three of you had chosen to meet in.

“Let’s start with the basics. Why, exactly, do you want to help us?”

Joy doesn’t shift her gaze from whatever is capturing her attention outside. Perhaps she is on the lookout for SM spies who wouldn’t look kindly on her meeting with a potential target. Perhaps she is merely still annoyed at Choa’s continued presence.

“I have my reasons, and they’re my own.”

“That’s not good enough,” Choa spits, her voice carrying a sharpness that you weren’t used to seeing.

“I will tell you when and if I want to,” Joy answers, “and not before.”

“Fine,” you say, “then maybe you can tell us how exactly you can help.”

Joy smirks before finally turning her attention to you.

“I have complete access to Red Velvet’s private records. Video recordings, texts, emails, evidence of hacking, all of it.”

“And this will help us, how?” you ask.

“Red Velvet is into some shady shit,” Choa states, “isn’t that right, Joy?”

Joy lets another snort of annoyance out of her nose.

“Our division is dedicated to… convincing difficult industry opponents into making decisions that are beneficial to our company.”

“Through blackmail, extortion, hacking secure private servers, that kind of thing?” Choa hisses.

Joy frowns at Choa, her dislike for the older girl brimming to the surface, but she doesn’t answer.

“And it’s your job to seduce people, if that’s what it takes,” you say, knowing from the last time you met that Joy was clearly talented in that field.

“And you record the whole thing, and threaten to send it to wives and girlfriends,” Choa finishes.

Joy crosses her arms, anger evident in her soft features.

“I don’t have to sit here and take this,” she hisses through her teeth as she stands up from her chair, “I came here because I wanted to help you, but if all you’re going to do is insult me…”

“We’re sorry, Joy,” you answer, raising a hand up in a gesture of apology, “please. Sit down. You can understand why we’re suspicious of your intentions, surely.”

“I do,” Joy admits as she slumps back into her chair.

“If you want us to take you seriously, maybe you should tell us why you want to help us.”

Joy takes a moment to compose her answer. Her gaze returns to the window as she seeks answers in the relatively quiet side street of Seoul.

“I’m tired of it.”

The young girl takes a another sip of her americano before continuing. Her face is suddenly soft and vulnerable, the mask of fierce defiance she was wearing just moments earlier falling away to reveal a newfound softness you didn’t know she had.

“I’m tired of being… a tool for Irene and Wendy. They get all the glory and praise, but I do all the work. I’m tired of being… used.”

“And so by helping us, you get back at Irene and Wendy,” Choa says.

“And I get to leave this fucking life and start over,” Joy adds, “and move on from having to be a fucking company whore.”

Silence descends over the coffee table as you and Choa take the time to digest Joy’s statements. There is a sense of vulnerability that has come over the younger girl, her arms crossed defensively around her slim torso, as though protecting herself. Her features are grim but defiant as she continues to stare out the window - she looked tired, mentally and spiritually, if not physically.

“Providing us with Red Velvet’s data would give us some valuable ammunition,” you begin, “in case they continue to go after me or my team. We could threaten to release it, make it public, which Irene and Wendy would clearly want to avoid.”

“They would know that I gave you the data,” Joy says.

“How would they know that?” Choa asks.

“Our data is secure as fuck,” Joy answers, “and every single download or transfer of data is encrypted using a passcode that is specific to the members of Red Velvet. It’s not just virtual security, either - the data is fingerprint and retinal scan protected. I can download all of it, and give it to you, but they would know it was me.”

“And you want our protection afterward,” Choa finishes.

Joy doesn’t answer, only giving a slight nod of her head as confirmation.

You take a moment to weigh your options in your head. Having Red Velvet’s records would be an invaluable weapon, essentially ensuring continued protection against their attacks. It was too valuable an opportunity to pass up.

“We’ll protect you,” you state, “we can move you overseas, provide you with a new career, and ensure that you’re taken care of. But we’ll need the data first, and our IT specialist will need to give it a once over, before we can provide any guarantees.”

Joy gives another small nod of her head.

“This is a big risk for you,” Choa says, “I’ve heard of what Red Velvet can do to people who cross them. Why not just leave? Why go out like this?”

“You don’t understand,” Joy hisses under her breath, “You don’t know the things I’ve had to do to… secure the cooperation of certain industry figures. There are a lot of powerful men out there with disgusting desires.”

Joy’s eyes drift downward, as though unpleasant memories are making themselves known in her mind. You spare a glance at Choa, and notice that the aggressive exterior she had worn earlier on her features had disappeared and left a sympathetic look on her face.

“And I can’t just leave,” Joy adds, “you’ve seen what Red Velvet is capable of. If I left, they would release what I’ve done to the public. How could I move on and find another career, when everyone in the country knows what I did here?”

“We’ll take care of you,” you say, trying to reassure the young woman of your ability to do so. There is a sincerity in her look that convinces you of her desire to leave Red Velvet and better her circumstances.

There is quiet for a few long seconds, the three of you lost in your thoughts.

“We’ll have a flight ready for when you provide the data,” you begin, “It will be important to get you out of the country before they notice the download. You need to get your affairs in order, and get ready to leave. Choa can assist you.”

Next to you, Choa nods, a look of genuine sympathy on her face as she meets Joy’s gaze again - this time, with none of the animosity that marked their initial meeting.

“Thank you, but I won’t need her help,” Joy answers, “I’ve been getting ready for this for a long time. I’ve just been waiting for the opportunity. I can complete the transfer in a few hours at home, where I have secure remote access.”

“Good. Once you’ve downloaded the data, we can send it to Jeongyeon back home. She’ll decrypt it and verify that it’s what we need. We can have you on a plane 12 hours from now. Choa, you’ll make the arrangements?”

“You got it, boss.”

“I’ll go with Joy to her place and verify the download. Once Joy and I have the data, we’ll transfer it to Jeongyeon. Choa, you head back to the hotel, make the travel arrangements and get us ready to leave.. Once that’s done I want us on the next flight home.”

“Done,” Choa states, a look of determination on her face.

Nodding to Joy, the three of you leave the coffee shop.

---

Joy certainly wasn’t kidding when she said that she had been ready to leave for a long time. All of her worldly possessions, it seemed, were crammed into a single carry on sized travel suitcase. Next to it was a bright pink backpack with several toy charms attached to its straps - it seemed slightly out of place given Joy’s mature, reserved nature, but it served as a reminder that at the end of the day this was a young girl searching for a better life.

“I’ve started the transfer to your servers,” Joy says from the kitchen, where she has set up her laptop on the dining table, one of the few pieces of furniture still left in the otherwise empty apartment. You had to log into JYP’s private servers from Joy’s computer to allow the transfer to Jeongyeon.

“Good,” you state as you join her, “how long will it take?”

“Two hours and… fourty six minutes,” she answers, “I’m going to try and cover my tracks, but I’m not sure how effective it’ll be.”

You nod as you take a seat next to her, taking out your phone to send a message to Choa updating her on the status of the data transfer. Joy busies herself with something on her laptop, presumably related to the Red Velvet data she is transferring to JYP servers.

You watch in silence as she works, her features illuminated by the soft glow of the kitchen light and the brightness of her laptop monitor. The sounds of her fingers working on the keyboard are the only noise in the entire apartment.

“There’s water in the fridge, if you want,” Joy says, not looking up from her laptop.

“I’m fine, thanks,” you answer.

“I’d make you something to eat, but I got rid of most of my food.”

“How have you been eating?”

“Takeout, mostly. Or food at the office. We’re well funded, and that means catered meals.”

You nod to yourself as Joy continues to type away.

“This is a big risk for you,” you finally say after a minute or so.

“I know. But I’m done with this life. I’m tired of it.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“I… I’m sorry, by the way,” Joy says softly, her voice low.

“For?”

“For the last time you were here. My orders were to seduce you, do whatever it took to convince you to join SM. Even if it meant fucking you in front of Wendy and Irene.”

“It was kind of sick,” you say, “that they were willing to do that.”

“Now you see why I want to leave,” Joy agrees, finishing up whatever she was working on with a few more keystrokes. Seemingly satisfied with whatever she has completed, she leans back in her chair and lets out a sigh.

“At least now I see why you had no problem saying no,” she continues, “especially since you have hotter girls back home.”

The thought of Sana, Choa, and Tzuyu back home causes a slim smile to appear on your face, but the thought of the most important one of all - Momo - immediately wipes it from your lips.

“You’re gorgeous, Joy. If we’d met under different circumstances I’m sure I wouldn’t have been able to resist.”

Joy smiles for the first time since you’ve met her, and it brought a little light into the dim kitchen. She stands up and goes to the fridge, presumably to grab a water bottle.

“I have to admit I’m a little jealous of them. Part of me is sorry I didn’t get to finish what I started.”

The tone of her words is alluring, to say the least, her voice suddenly soft and seductive as she bends to retrieve the bottle from the fridge. She is wearing a short button up cream blouse that leaves most of her midsection bare, and as her back is turned you take a moment to admire the beautiful curves of her waist and hips. The skintight jeans she is wearing only highlights her figure against the light of the open fridge door.

A part of you knows that you should be on guard, knows what this woman is capable of, what she literally does for a living. But after what happened with Momo, after the tenseness and seriousness of the past couple of days… you were tired of it all. You were tired of having to be on your guard all the time, tired of having to consider what other people wanted and what they needed from you. You wanted to indulge, wanted to simply take something for yourself without care for the consequences.

Part of you wanted to get Momo out of your head, and there was a perfect way of doing so right in front of you.

Before you knew it you were on your feet, and striding over to where Joy is standing with her back to you, sipping from her water bottle. You step up behind her, and place your hands on her hips.

Joy turns to face you, and passion ignites, uncaring of the circumstances that brought the two of you together again, uncaring of your respective histories, or the seriousness of the situation you both found yourself in. You both simply needed a respite from it all, and were happy to find it in each other, if only for the moment.

Your lips crash against each other, and within moments your tongues are exploring each others mouths, happy to discover new tastes and sensations. Your arms roam her body as she presses it against you, caressing the naked skin of her torso, your left hand moving downward to palm a full ass cheek, cursing the thin denim that is keeping you from her skin there. Your right hand is luckier, tracing a path up Joy’s back, under her blouse, delighting in the feel of warm, creamy skin beneath your palm.

Joy is impatient, unwilling to wait any longer than she had to to take this little liaison to the next level. She breaks your kiss to turn your body so that you are leaning against the kitchen counter, and almost immediately her fingers are working your belt. Before you know it your jeans have come undone, and without a moment’s hesitation she reaches between your bodies to grasp your quickly hardening shaft, pumping it up and down with slim fingers, until in just a few seconds you are at full hardness.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” Joy says, the words a seductive hiss from her lips, “fucking use me. Use my body. However you want, as rough as you want. Use me. I want you to.”

It was certainly tempting, especially with Joy’s young, tight body pressed up against yours and a wanton look in her eyes; but there was a part of you that felt some sympathy for the girl, and the fact that being used was essentially what she had to do for a job she hated.

“No, Joy... this time, you can do whatever you want to do.”

There is some surprise in Joy’s eyes as your words sink in - she was obviously used to being taken, on having the will of others imposed on her when it came to sex. But her surprise quickly gave way to an alluring, seductive look, one that was only heightened by her biting her lower lip.

“...really?” she asks, still apparently unsure.

“Yes. You’ve always been told what to do. Now it’s your turn.”

Joy’s uncertainty turns to seductive allure as she licks her lips. Giving your shaft one last pump with her warm hand, she steps away from you before reaching for her own belt and drawing her jeans and tiny pink panties down her hips, bending at the waist to get the skinny denim off her long, slim legs.

Backing away from you, she hops up on the kitchen table and spreads her legs, revealing her glistening, juicy pussy.

“Eat me,” she says, the two syllables dripping with desire. Her eyes are half lidded and close momentarily as she takes one of her own fingers and draws it from the bottom of her slit to the top, swirling her fingertip against her clit.

You take a split second to admire the sight of the young woman revealing herself to you, but your patience doesn’t last long, especially as Joy lets a soft moan leave her lips as she continues to ready herself for you. In a few short steps you approach her and fall to your knees between her spread legs.

You take your time at first, planting light kisses on the soft, tender skin of her inner thighs, heightening her arousal even more if such a thing were even possible; Joy’s light gasps become longer, louder moans as your kisses slowly draw closer and closer to her core. Her right hand is bracing her weight on the table behind her, but her left hand has woven its way through your hair, slowly pressing it closer and closer to her pussy.

“Now… don’t make me wait… don’t tease… taste me.”

You did tell her, afterall, that you would do whatever she wanted, and so you begin your work by giving her a long, slow lick from the bottom of her slit to the very top, gathering a copious amount of her slick, sweet juices on the top of your tongue along the way. Joy lets a sharp gasp escape her lips, the hand on the back of your scalp pressing more incessantly on the back of your head.

You don’t give her any time to recover, and almost immediately after you finish your first lick you immediately dive in for another lick, re-tracing your path from the bottom to the top of her drenched lips, but this time you linger longer at the top of her opening, searching for and quickly finding the small, hardened nub of her clitoris with the tip of your tongue.

“Oh, fuck…” Joy says as you find the center of her pleasure, the warmth radiating from her crotch quickly flowing throughout her body as you continue to give her clit slow, considerate licks, enjoying the taste of her wetness beneath your tongue and the warmth of her soft thighs closing themselves around both of your cheeks.

The tightening of her thighs and legs around your face tell you that she is ready for more. You close your lips around her clit, as close as you can, and with some slight suction, increase the frequency of your licks, drawing an almost immediate response from the girl. Your hands are clutching the outside of her thighs, but you draw your right hand beneath her left leg and, with the tips of your fingers, you begin to tease her pussy lips, drawing your fingertips lightly up and down.

“Put them in,” Joy says, her words a soft hiss, “put them in me.”

You follow her orders, and you slip your middle and ring fingers inside her drenched opening, drawing the loudest moan of the night from the girl. As your fingers slowly penetrate deeper and deeper inside her, you maintain the pace the strength of the licks you are giving her clit, not giving her any time to recover.

Eventually you find a rough patch toward the front wall of her pussy, and the loud gasp that leaves her mouth tells you you have found the right spot - but you don’t stop, and as soon as you find it you begin to give it solid, firm strokes up and down with your fingertips. Joy is positively drenched now, her pussy leaking her sweet juices freely, staining your lips and chin as well as your palm.

“Oh god, keep doing that!” Joy pleads, “keep doing that… right there… right there… oh!”

Joy orgasms, and as she does so the entirety of her body shakes; the other women in your life may have quivered involuntarily, but Joy was different. Her entire body from head to toe is shaking, her thighs vibrating pleasantly against your cheeks. Interestingly, no sound leaves her mouth, although you know even without seeing that her mouth is wide open in a perfect “o”, her vocal chords unable to give voice to the pleasure wracking her senses.

For long seconds it is all you can do to hold her body down by her thighs as she shakes and quivers on the table. You slow your rhythm on both her clit and her g-spot, slowly giving her time to wind down from her high. Eventually she settles down enough, and she brings her left hand, which was originally digging almost painfully into your scalp, down to your cheek. She lifts up your head softly, and you take it as a signal to stop. You give her clit one last soft lick, savoring the sweet, oily slickness of her juices on your tongue one last time.

Joy lifts your head from her crotch, and you slowly draw your fingers from her body, eliciting a last soft gasp as they leave her tight lips.

“Sit down,” Joy says, motioning with her head at the chair next to the table. You take the opportunity to remove your bothersome pants and boxers, knowing what would come next.

She wastes no time, her recent orgasm giving her renewed strength as she hops off the table. To your surprise, Joy takes a quick moment to go to the small backpack of her things, retrieving a small, shiny pair of metal links - handcuffs.

Joy steps behind the chair where you are seated, and she reaches for both of your hands before placing them behind you and placing the handcuffs around your wrists, ensuring to loop them around one of the spines that formed the seat and backrest of the chair. You almost immediately try to move your hands, and you find that you are unable to move very far in the solid, metal restraints.

No sooner have you realized this than she is already straddling you, her legs spread around your hips. Reaching between your bodies, Joy grasps your painfully hard shaft, aiming it at her dripping opening.

“You’re mine now,” she says, her eyes locked unto yours, her face suddenly fierce and aggressive. It is a look that catches you off guard for a moment, given her soft and innocent demeanor.

You are worried for a second by the tone of her words, but you quickly have no more time for doubt given that the young woman was holding your shaft against her naked, drenched pussy. She lingers there for a moment, rubbing the head of your cock against her lips, allowing her juices to lubricate your head; you can feel the heat practically emanating from her, and the pleasure of it is intoxicating.

Finally, Joy shifts her hips downward, impaling herself on your shaft. The long, drawn out gasp that escapes both of your mouths is proof of the sharp spikes of pleasure emanating from your joining. You immediately want to use your hands to grasp her slim, tight torso, but you are unable to move them, your wrists straining uselessly in the handcuffs behind your back.

You expect Joy to take her time and savor the feeling of first penetration, and for a minute or two this is exactly what she does, grinding up and down slowly, taking your shaft in and out of her body. You look down to the wonderful sight of your drenched shaft drilling in and out between her splayed pussy lips, each thrust into her wet tightness drawing a soft moan from the girl as she continues to ride you.

“You’re so… so big,” Joy manages to gasp, “I… see why… those JYP girls like you so much.”

“And you’re… so fucking wet, Joy.”

You weren’t lying - she was certainly one of the wettest girls you’ve been with, on par with Choa, perhaps. You savor the feeling of her pussy as she continues to ride her, and you watch intently as her face is wracked with pleasure, her eyes closing and mouth open.

You press your face against her slim beige tank top, and she immediately takes the hint, taking a moment to quickly undo the buttons keeping the top together at the front. As soon as the buttons are undone she almost tears the garment off her, and the small skin color bra she is wearing beneath that soon joins it on the floor as she is finally fully naked.

As soon as her breasts are exposed you dive in, so to speak, immediately capturing her left breast in your mouth and sucking more forcefully than you thought you would on her nipple that is already tight and hard with arousal.

“Yes!” Joy moans, the soft sound almost a shout as it leaves her lips, “suck on me… suck on me!”

Joy apparently loved the attention you were giving her breasts, and as if to reward you she begins to ride you faster, pumping her body up and down with increasing speed, your shaft pistoning in and out of her hot, tight pussy as the young girl bounces up and down on your lap.

“Oh god… I… I feel it… You feel so good!”

You tear your mouth from her left nipple and quickly switch to her right breast, capturing the hard bud between your lips and sucking hard.

“Oh yes! Like that!”

You would anything to free your hands and palm her soft, warm mounds with your fingers, but your hands can do nothing but strain uselessly against the handcuffs behind your back. Almost out of frustration, you suck even harder on Joy’s nipple, drawing an even louder moan from the girl as her pussy begins to tighten even more around your shaft, the first sign of her impending orgasm.

“I… I’m gonna cum soon,” Joy announces, the tightening of her hot, warm walls around your shaft proof of her words as she continues to bounce up and down on your lap.

You lift your head from her warm chest to stare directly at her, and are delighted to find her staring back at you with flushed features, her cheeks almost pink, her eyes half-lidded in pleasure.

“Look at me when I cum,” Joy orders, and you only have a few seconds to wait before she orgasms again, her body absolutely wracked with pleasure as she begins to quiver just as she did during her first orgasm. Her body is shaking almost violently, and for a moment you wonder if she’s okay, but the intensity in her eyes as she struggles to keep eye contact with you is enough sign to convince you that she is not only okay - she is in absolute bliss.

Joy finally breaks eye contact to throw her head back, involuntarily arching her back and pressing her supple young chest out at you. You take the opportunity to lick her cleavage, enjoying the salty taste of her sweat on her soft skin amidst the soft pulsing of her pussy walls around your cock as they slowly wind down from orgasm.

“Oh, fuck, that was so good,” the young woman gasps as she finally comes down from her high, looking at you once again, bending slightly to cup your face in her hands and draw you into a deep kiss, one borne out of gratitude for sending her to such a peak of pleasure.

“It’s your turn,” the young woman says softly, “I can tell you’re already close. Where do you want to cum?”

You are about to answer before you remember that this evening was all about letting Joy do whatever she wanted.

“I’ll cum wherever you want me to,” you answer, looking directly at her and seeing the enraptured glint in her eyes at your words. She brings her mouth to your left ear before whispering.

“I came in your mouth… it’s only fair you cum in mine.”

Joy slowly lifts her body from yours, and you watch as your shaft slowly appears from between her tight lips, every inch of it absolutely drenched with her juices. Joy quickly drops to her knees, and within moments she is taking your shaft into her mouth.

You curse again that your hands are tied behind your back, as you would want nothing more than to grasp the back of her head as she bobs her head up and down your length. You content yourself with closing your eyes and enjoying the feel of your shaft as it slips in and out between her lips, her tongue swirling around your length and around your head.

“I’m gonna cum soon, Joy,” you admit, her riding earlier bringing you already close to the brink, and her quick oral work threatening to push you over the edge.

“Mmmmm,” she answers, her mouth filled with your cock and unable to form full words. Whatever she said, it didn’t really matter - all that mattered to you was that she was quickening her pace and bringing you to the very edge of orgasm.

She lets you linger there, for just a split second, before she takes you into her mouth one last time, and the feel of her wet mouth smothering your shaft and soft tongue swirling around your cock head drives you to finally, mercifully, cum.

You gasp louder than you were expecting as your orgasm overtakes your senses and you send hot, warm semen shooting from the tip of your cock and into Joy’s waiting, ready mouth, the thick liquid coating the back of her throat as you send stream after stream of it into her willing body. You force every drop of it out of you - you want her to have every single drop of it, want it to coat the back of her mouth and throat.

You feel Joy gag slightly as the thick liquid hits the back of her throat, and you are more pleased than you would care to admit to see thick streams of pearly cum appear from around the corners of her lips, evidence that it was a little too much for her to handle.

“Mmmhmm!” Joy moans around your shaft, the vibrations only serving to raise the pleasure even further. You force the last few streams of semen out of your shaft as you finally wind down from the orgasm, and you similarly force your eyes open to watch as Joy slowly lets your spent cock leave her wet mouth.

She gives your cockhead one last lick with a tongue that is clearly stained white with semen, more of it flowing down her chin. She opens her mouth briefly to show you that it is painted thickly with your cum, before closing her lips and swallowing. It takes her two gulps, but when she is done, she opens her mouth again to show you she has swallowed it all. With thin fingers she cleans up her cum stained chin, scooping up the precious fluid and licking it off her fingers like a delicacy.

“Delicious,” she says, the word never sounding so lustful as it did right then.

“Fuck, that was amazing,” you admit, as Joy finally rises from her knees and makes her way behind you, “now can you get these things off me?”

You work your wrists around in a show of resistance, knowing that Joy was probably already on her way to retrieve the keys from her backpack.

You let her take her time, savoring the post-orgasm bliss as your tense muscles finally relax. You hear what was probably the bathroom door open and close, and are disappointed that Joy decided to go to the bathroom before letting you out of your restraints.

When she returns, she approaches you from behind, and lets her hands rest on your shoulders. She bends slightly to bring her mouth to your right ear.

“Thanks for logging in through my computer and giving me complete access to the JYP servers,” she says, her voice a low whisper.

You are about to turn your head to ask her what it is that she’s talking about, when you feel a sharp prick on the side of your neck. You have only a few seconds to realize that it is a needle, and that Joy has injected something into you. You struggle vainly against the handcuffs that have restrained your arms behind your back, but you already know it is a losing cause.

“Remember what I said earlier-,” she says, her voice containing an edge you hadn’t heard from her yet that night, “...you’re mine.”

Your last thought before you black out is to curse yourself for having fallen into a trap.

#kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #Smut #pov smut #male reader #red velvet #red velvet joy #park sooyoung

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peppusae · 3 years

Text

How to say 'I love you' without saying 'I love you' | Chae Hyungwon pt 1

part: 1 of 3

other parts: pt 1 || pt 2 || pt 3

pairing: chae hyungwon x reader

genre: fluff, little slow-burn and angst, smut

word count: 5.6k words

note: i had a dream about this plot so i must write this because after this dream hyungwon became my bias wrecker and i cry about him every day since pls send help gbye

ugh i love him so much :(((

How to say 'I love you' without saying 'I love you'

What’s every kpop fan’s goal in life?

To meet their idols, attend a concert, and attend a fan sign, right?

Some others... They aim higher than that.

And you’re one of those people.

In fact, you love k-pop so much that you found your career took a whooping turn and you ended up majoring in language, for the very simple fact that you could apply to join an entertainment company and be a staff/writer, the latter which makes you feel the proudest of yourself.

But life….

Life can be super mean sometimes. And you learn this the hard way, when you get rejected by SM entertainment - your first and actually the only choice because you are a major Shinee fan and life is just NOT fair at all!

One way or the another, after multiple applying, you finally get a good job in another company - Starship Entertainment.

Now, Starship was definitely not one amongst your top 5 agencies. But you always try not to let that affect your work - and over time, you come to love your job.

Especially when you get assigned as Monsta X’s writer and interpreter.

You find the members of the group very very appealing, all of them having their own charms.

Hyunwoo, who goes by the name Shownu and has an appetite that makes everyone giggle; He is such a soft-hearted soul and you really look up to him because he is always kind enough to give you a hand if he finds you doing something like lugging some boxes around, and would give the prettiest eye smiles when he gets a compliment.

Hoseok, who goes by the name Wonho and is probably the person you would sacrifice everything for; because of the heartwarming smile he has to offer, the way he continuously asks you to go through the comments he received on his vlives, and would politely request you to review what fans are saying about him on his posts.

Kihyun, who is very much Korean down to the bone with his extremely polite mannerisms and the way he always makes sure the staff - you included - are always eating as well; even if it’s a show about them. And also, the way he had once asked if he was your bias, and looked shocked to hear he wasn’t - and then continued to do things to get your attention and ask “Am I your bias now?” in the middle, like an idiot.

Jooheon, who also occasionally comes to you and asks for mini English lessons, and then gets bored after learning two or three new words - and then instead likes to chat about random things like the cats he owns, and your line of cacti which he, for some reason, is obsessed with, and your chats with Jooheon usually end with a compliment battle, and he always made you feel proud because he always says that chatting about normal things like that always inspires him a lot too.

Changkyun, who you consider as your bias wrecker because he keeps his own cool, stays in his own bubble and get things done, and doesn’t brag; instead, he’s very gentle, always the first person to notice if you’re sitting out in the lounge by yourself racking your brains for new content, and uses you as a guinea pig for testing out his lame new puns or pickup lines.

And then… Hyungwon, who doesn’t talk a lot when he’s with the rest of the group, but you found to be startlingly talkative when he’s doing a solo vlive or with only a few members like either Shownu or Wonho. In fact, you remember being wide-eyed when he continuously chatted with his fans on a vlive for a whooping 2 hours, and you can’t forget the precious and warm smile he had on his face when you said you liked seeing him so lively and talkative.

“I have a lot of things up my sleeve which you probably don’t know that much about, [Name]-ah.” He had said that time, and sometimes, you can see the way his eyes would filter through the staff during shows and land on yours, and smile at you.

And finally, Minhyuk, who was your absolute favourite out of the entire group, your bias because he gets along so well with everyone, always making everyone - including the staff - laugh, and would not hesitate to call anyone out if they’re doing something they shouldn’t. It makes you giggle, the way he would approach you in the middle of a variety show shooting they’re doing and ask if you were the writer of the show and how you had the audacity to make them walk around like lunatics. He acts like a crackhead like that, but you’ve grown to be so attached to him when you realized that, beyond his bright personality, he also is an insanely sweet person; You found this out when you had mentioned applying to SM entertainment because Shinee was your favorite group ever, and Minhyuk -even if he asked how dare you talk about other men in his presence - met up with Shinee while hosting a show and got the members to sign, and even got Kibum, your Shinee bias, to sign you a message inside their recent album.

Undoubtedly, Minhyuk was your favorite, for a good reason.

But still, to be put frankly, Hyungwon was the member that has your heart, for the simple reason that he was so unpredictable and has his own sense of humour and personality.

Since you got assigned to work with Monsta X, your life has been a messy tangle of fun, a normal day being you having a chat with Hyungwon and then getting interrupted by Minhyuk who would have zero filters and ask “Are you two dating?”, which causes the two of you to flush red for no reason, while Kihyun would overhear this and say “Huh?! You’re picking him to date but you don’t think of me as bias material?”.

The cycle would be endless, with Wonho laughing while watching the entire scene unfold, while Jooheon would join in with Minhyuk while Shownu would butt in and say “Minhyuk-ah, we have to go back to practise now tho,” and Changkyun sticking his head out from his dorm room and saying he still has 5 more minutes to finish the session of his favorite game.

You’ve grown to love this cycle and it doesn’t feel like a job, doing something you love with good people to work with, and life has been even easier after you got a dorm room within the building.

So, even if you had a roommate - and she’s nice, just not too close - things at Starship has been working out well for you.

Your daily chaos started simmering down a little once the pandemic hit, and all of the staff got confined to their rooms for work.

Because some of the shows you’re writing the scripts for are getting approved easily, you feel lucky to be one of the few staff who is now allowed to go alongside the members when they’re out for shows.

The times when you’re working from your dorm room, you feel so tired - perhaps missing the chaos you were so used to for the past couple years.

One day, you get a kakao chat from Hyungwon, asking if he can come over to discuss something with you.

It’s early in the morning - 8:15 am, and you’re half awake but you let him in, trying your hardest not to yawn too much in front of the member you considered the most attractive from the bunch.

Your roommate, Dawon, was kind enough to clean up the room a little bit when you said Hyungwon was coming over - and you said it on purpose because you knew she called Hyungwon her type and admits to having a teensy crush on him even though she knows it won’t work out anyways.

Hyungwon is wearing a caramel sweater and grey baggy sweatpants, and it always warms your heart to see the boys dressed in comfy clothes because they have to spend so much time wearing clothes that probably look good but not feel as comfy.

“Hyungwonnie, come on in!” You greet him, and he reacts with a chuckle and he always does that ever since you started calling him by that nickname after the day he said you should use casual language with him.

Hyungwon gives a little nod to your roommate in acknowledgement, and waits until you draw the curtain separating the room, before he speaks.

“I have a magazine shooting next month, and these are the set of questions they’re gonna ask me.” He says, putting the big envelope he had in his clutches on the top of your desk after he takes his seat. “I need help coming up with answers.”

Hyungwon was usually one of the few members who always comes to use the opportunity; the artists are free to ask the writers for help with answers they’ll give for their interviews, and Hyungwon always makes full use of the opportunity, and Shownu and Wonho occasionally drop by too, as well.

You’re always happy to be asked for help, but today, you find yourself sweat-dropping at the thought. You were so sleepy, the only reason you’re not dozing off is because you had forced yourself not to sit down.

“Why?”

“What?”

“You’re usually always excited when I ask for something like this, so why today?”

Ouch. Sometimes, much like you can read the boy’s faces and know what’s going on, they can sometimes do the same for you, too.

“Well, you see....”

“Have you been getting enough sleep?”

Double ouch. You knew the boys - at least, most of them - were good observers, but you didn’t expect Hyungwon to catch on so easily.

“I actually do get enough sleep, but these days, I feel extra sleepy for an hour or so after I wake up.”

This makes Hyungwon chuckle, putting the papers back inside the envelope and turning back to you.

“Welcome to the life of every human being. You sound like you’ve been babied too much.” He has to say, and you watch the way he gets up from his seat and places the envelope inside one of your drawers.

“Let’s get some breakfast.”

“W-What?!”

This makes the male raise an eyebrow, glancing around the room as if he was unsure if it really was you who said that.

“You’re acting as if we have never gone out for a meal together.”

“Well…” You say, because you’ve actually gone with him a couple of times over the four years you’ve been assigned to them.

That was probably because the boys enjoyed ordering in mostly, and eating at their own free times.

Anyhow, it was only a few times, so it definitely did surprise you.

“Okay. Where do we go?”

“I’m in the mood for some eggs and sausages, do you have anything you want to eat?”

“Hey, we’re gonna split the bill okay!?” You hurry to race Hyungwon outside, who goes out in a very knowing way, one that was like a deja vu of the times when he’d butt in when you’re trying to innocently pay for your delivered lunch tray and he’d ask to tab it over to him.

Kihyun was right, he really was different from the way most Monbebe actually looked up at him.

At the restaurant, Hyungwon takes his mask off only after you two are seated at one of the sectioned booths and have ordered your food.

“The pandemic isn’t good, but this is the only thing that I enjoy about it.” He admits, eyes going over to the lack of people inside the place which would usually be filled to the brim with office workers trying to grab a quick breakfast.

“This pandemic has made me a sleepyhead like you.”

“Hey!”

You find yourself smiling so hard around Hyungwon because during breakfast and after you had forcibly paid for you two, on your way back when he offers to buy you coffee - and even remembers your usual order - and the next two hours he spent with you while you helped him write answers and edit what he wrote, it really does not feel like he’s a celebrity at all; but more so as a close friend who makes you feel warm in ways you’ve never felt before.

“Why?”

You snap out from your little trance and go back to typing your script on the laptop, when he interrupts you.

“Why are you smiling? What kind of madness of a show are you writing now?!”

“Hey! Don’t accuse me of writing madness when your Monbebe loves it so much!”

“Yah, that’s too much! Our Monbebe will love us anyway even if you show them us being normal!”

You giggle, because really. When has Monsta X ever been normal?

---

The next day, right after you wake up, you’re working on the itinerary for Monsta X’s upcoming vacation show - a little too late, you had to admit, and that too, when you’re feeling so desperately sleepy like you’ve been feeling lately every morning.

Dawon had gone out to grab breakfast with some of the other staff, and you’re munching on your melon bread, knowing well that the espresso shot you’ve had just a while ago won’t last you for more than 15 minutes.

And it doesn’t.

In fact, you’re actually snoring when your phone rings loudly, making you lift your sorry face up from your laptop keyboard and answering as soon as you pick up the phone.

“Yes, Manager-nim? I’ll send you the itinerary in fifteen minutes!” You say the impossible, because your task in barely done, and you had a feeling you’d fall back onto the laptop keyboard the second the manager hangs up the call.

The sound of familiar chuckling makes you raise an eyebrow and glance at your phone, horrified to see Hyungwon’s name on the display.

“I need it in ten minutes, not fifteen.” He says in a heavy voice, and it makes you huff in embarrassment, glad that he couldn’t see you.

“Very funny, Hyungwon. What did you need?”

“Nothing. Just wanted to wake you up.”

“I was up!”

This makes him laugh yet again, and you sigh, typing on the keyboard as you think about what good excuse you can say.

“If you were up, you wouldn’t have thought I was your manager.”

You let out a little groan, connecting your headphones to the phone so you could multitask while speaking to the male.

“Really, now, Hyungwonnie, what did you really want? Is there something you wanted to ask again?”

“No, I really just called to wake you up.”

“Well. Isn’t that sweet of you.” You say, sarcastically.

The mini banter and sarcastic comments continue for about ten minutes, by which you’d even finished up the itinerary.

So, even if he did laugh at your sleepyhead behaviour - as if he could talk - you made sure to thank him before you go out to take the printouts and finish off your task.

---

And then, that becomes a ritual.

Hyungwon calls you every day at 8 am, right when you’ve signed in for work and are about to head to get some coffee.

He makes small talk with you, talks about little episodes he’d had, and listens to your ideas.

After the first week, you don’t feel sleepy even if you don’t get the coffee; and you don’t even get sleepy after he hangs up.

Every day, it feels like he’s prepared something new, because he makes you laugh so hard that your sleep completely vanishes.

In fact, after a couple of days, he searches up English songs on Genie Music and sings, butchering up a lot of the lyrics on purpose - you know it’s on purpose because Hyungwon has a really good pronunciation when he tries.

One day, you’re butchering up the lyrics of a song along with Hyungwon while you’re writing talk segments for Monsta X’s comeback showcase. Your roommate has been giving you funny looks recently, especially after she asked who was calling you every day and you couldn’t lie and told her it was Hyungwon.

The sudden sound of your door flying wide open and a blonde Lee Minhyuk barrelling into your room makes you stop your singing.

“Oh. So it was you, huh.” He has to say, making himself comfortable on your beanbag chair, and drawing the cloth partition between your room when Dawon - your roommate - keeps staring.

Really, Minhyuk does not know what filters are supposed to be.

“What do you mean?” You ask, and from your headphone, Hyungwon hears his friend’s voice, so he dismisses the call after saying he’ll see you again later.

“So it was you Hyungwonie has been getting up every morning to sing his heart out, huh?”

You stare at him, baffled. “Well, he does sing some normal songs, but he mostly sings crack-”

“He usually never wakes up on his own even if he has schedules, and now he has an alarm to call you every day? What, are you guys dating or something?”

“Yah, Minhyuk, what are you saying!!” You hiss, horrified, because the cloth partition does little to block out sounds from the other side.

“I always tell people if they like someone, to stop being so obvious and just ask them out. It’s easy!!”

“It’s not easy and omg shut up!! He’s just calling me because he’s waking me up, he’s just being kind!”

“Hyungwon never wakes up for us, he’s never kind to us, then! And he’s always still sleepy even if he wakes you up, because he goes straight back to bed after he wakes you up!”

You sigh out loud in frustration, shaking your head. “Come on. What did you want, Minhyukkie?”

Minhyuk gives you a knowing smile before he shakes his head, handing you the binded notebook he had in his clutches.

“You’ll give me a read-over, right? I told you about the radio-show I’m gonna start hosting in a few weeks, right? The concept is clear, but I have some topics I want to talk about and I made some scripts about how I could continue the talk.”

“You got it. I’ll need some time, though, how does Thursday sound?”

“Perfect. Thanks!” He gives you a flying kiss that makes you laugh, and then he’s out as fast as he came barreling in.

---

You expected Hyungwon to stop the calling after the confining to your room rule gets lifted up and you’ve started to go to the office for work.

But he doesn’t, and he sounds as if he’s never been as prepared before as he is now.

Even when the comeback is near and he must be practising into the late hours of the night, he never misses a single day.

A few days before the comeback, you find him having lunch with Shownu, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him in a while - and you hadn’t seen his new hair till then too.

For the first time in the four years you’ve been assigned to work with Monsta X, you take a good look at Hyungwon.

A really, really good look.

At first, he hadn’t noticed you, and while you’re refilling your water bottle with chilled water, you notice the way he’s smiling a little while he listens to what Shownu is saying. The way he uses his hand to brush the fringe of his hair he’s dyed blonde is attractive for the first time - and you’d always thought he was a really, really handsome young man… But this is the first time he looks so attractive that you feel like you’re in a daze, staring at him until chilled water fills up your bottle and pours on your fingers, finally catching your attention.

What gives?

The little yelp you let out makes both Shownu and Hyungwon glance over at you - noticing you for the first time. Hyungwon’s eyes go wide, the top of his palm going up to cover his mouth.

“Ah, [Name]-ah. How are you?” Shownu calls over to you, ever so naturally, and you greet him with a smile when it looks like he’s motioning for you to come over.

“I haven’t seen you in a while. Are you doing well?”

“I’m doing good, Hyunwoo-oppa. You guys must be working super hard for the comeback, right?” You say, glancing at Hyungwon, and for the first time ever, you think he’s actually… blushing ?!

It makes you flustered, thinking about what Minhyuk had talked to you about, while he accused you two of dating. Really, Minhyuk had no filters, it never fails to drive you insane sometimes.

“Yeah! You can expect a lot, please do support us a lot!”

You turn to look at Shownu, beaming at his friendly and charming smile before you excuse yourself and head back before you felt your head would explode.

Now, what the heck was that all about!?

Whatever it was, you were definitely going to blame Minhyuk for this!

---

It absolutely surprises you when Hyungwon doesn’t fail to call you, even the following morning.

You guess you had just imagined it in your head yesterday when Hyungwon looked flustered to see you.

Stupid Minhyuk! It was all in your head after all.

“Now that today’s dumb song segment is over,” Hyungwon says, after he sings a butchered up version of Pretty Please, “I’m gonna sing a song from our album!”

“Oh? Will that be okay?”

“Well, you’ll hear the album preview later today, so, why not?” He has to say. “It’s one of my favorites from the album.”

And then, he sings up to the second chorus of Beautiful Night - a song you fall in love with instantly, because the lyrics are so beautiful and Hyungwon sings as if he’s doing so with his whole soul. It almost makes your eyes teary, and you can barely tell him that you love it, before you have to excuse yourself with a little lie.

Since when did Hyungwon’s voice sound this emotional? It’s been over four years, but his voice has always been the same, beautiful voice as before. You open up Genie music, playing some of the older albums, listening to Hyungwon’s voice in the songs, and you feel like you’ve missed out this side of Hyungwon completely, this madly romantic side of him that sounds so sincere that it makes your heart race.

What is going on, seriously…

---

As the days pass by, the little tingle in your heart whenever you see or hear Hyungwon keeps on getting more and more painful.

In fact, by the end of Monsta X’s three-week promotions for Fantasia X, hearing Hyungwon singing songs for you become almost unbearably sad.

Despite having to wake up earlier, or even having to excuse himself in the middle of getting his hair and makeup done, he makes sure to call you - even if you’re sitting and listening to him when he’s in the same room as you are in.

You realize you can’t hold out your expressions if it’s in front of him, so you make sure to get up and go away somewhere when Hyungwon’s call arrives every day at 8 am on the dot.

It’s a warm Saturday morning, and you’re on your bed, your earpods on and listening to Fantasia X on Genie when Hyungwon’s call of the day arrives.

Today, it’s different.

Usually, he sings a trot song, or a really ugly version of an English song with the hopes of making you laugh so much that your sleep completely vanishes.

But today, he doesn’t say anything and immediately starts to sing soulfully; today, he sings Newton, one of your absolute favorite songs by the group, and…

The way he sings it is so, so sad .

Something inside your heart feels like it is burning, and unknowingly, your eyes brim with tears, because…

All the things Minhyuk had told you, all the things you’ve been thinking about Hyungwon lately, all the little glances he sends your way and then looks away when he sees you’re watching…

You feel your emotions going haywire, and your wishful thinking makes you start crying and you pray to god that Hyungwon, who’s singing the chorus so beautiful and sincerely does not notice.

It’s almost unbearable, and you take off your earpods and have him on speaker, thankful that he doesn’t notice you’ve reached for tissues to wipe your tears.

Since when did I start feeling this way about him?

How can I think this way about one of the members I work for?

Why does Hyungwon sing as if he’s singing just for me, and only me?

Why does it feel like we are never able to meet eyes now?

You have so many questions and no answers, and your hands are shaking as you try to press record on your phone because he sounds so, so beautiful and your crying is not helping you in focusing on his sincere singing.

It is at this moment that the door to your room flies open, and your roommate, Dawon enter the room, then freezes when she sees you crying.

“What’s going on?!”

You’re only able to hand over the phone to her, and mumble a little “Please record it for me” through your sobs.

Dawon looks very confused, raising an eyebrow when she looks at the receiver and sees that it is Hyungwon, on the call.

At that moment, Hyungwon wraps up his singing, clearing his throat a little and speaks for the first time today.

“[Name]-ah.”

You find yourself sniffling, glancing at Dawon who looks visibly upset now… and you can’t even blame her…

“[Name]-ah.” He calls your name again, and this is one of the things that makes you sad in regards to Hyungwon, because… He is a member of Monsta X, one of the manlier groups in the industry for sure, but… He’s so gentle and sweet, a kind-hearted soul, and he does not lack in anything, as he has proudly claimed so.

Even the way he calls your name out is so gentle that it makes more tears stream down your face, and you’re almost scared at how to answer whatever Hyungwon would ask from you.

“[Name]-ah. I have something I have to tell you, in person.”

Your eyes meet with Dawon, who now looks wide-eyed, and you were sure you would probably look the same.

“I… I have to tell you this in person, so, if you… If you’re willing, would you like to… go for dinner with me today?”

More tears stream down your face, and now you know you can never look Dawon in the eyes either so you bury your face on one of your pillows, heart aching too much to do anything else.

“Hyungwon-ssi.”

Dawon speaks into the speakerphone, and it makes you glance at her, wondering what she was going to say.

Hyungwon replies with a loud ‘Huh?’ in confusion.

“Hyungwon-ssi, I’m sorry, but [Name] is outside and she left her phone here.”

Dawon looks at you, lips pressed into a thin line. You feel so uneasy, and it felt like Hyungwon felt the same, because he starts to stammer.

“Wh-Wha? What?! If [Name] wasn’t the one who answered, then wh- Whaaaaa!” You hear a loud whine before the call gets disconnected with a quick mumble of “Sorry!”.

Dawon hurls the phone at your bed, and leaves the room without a word, and it pains your heart so much that you feel like you’ll die.

A text message pops up on your phone a little while later and seeing the text makes you feel a little dizzy, even.

‘If you’re freely going to allow other people to roam through your phone even, I don’t think I have any other choice but to come to see you right away.’

What?

Wait, does he mean-

You hurry to grab your phone and iPad, wiping your face as best as you could and going out of your room. You find Minhyuk and Kihyun using the Xbox in the lounge, so you quietly take a seat near them, greeting them and opening up your iPad without another word.

“[Name]-ah, why do you look so weird?”

“Yah, Minhyuk, how can you say something so rude?!”

You shake your head and give a weak smile at the two, opening up your notepad and leaning against the couch.

A moment passes by, and Minhyuk moves closer to you on the couch, so close that you actually move a little back as well.

“What?”

“I finished my game with Kihyunnie. So. Why? Why do you look so sad? Did Hyungwonie hurt you?”

Now, you’ve been doing a good job of not crying since you got out of the room, but seeing Minhyuk’s worried face and then remembering Hyungwon’s words - along with Minhyuk hitting a bullseye right away… All of that combine together and it makes you start to cry again.

“Wha? Hey?!” Minhyuk looks very startled, and he usually never looks surprised like he doesn’t know what to do, but today he looks like he’s at a dead end, and you allow him to grab your hand and tell Kihyun he’ll be right back, before he hurries to drag you over to the other end of the lounge near the vending machines.

“Yah, what is going on with you lately? Hyungwon really said something mean to you, didn’t he? Sheesh. Acting like he’s in love with you and then making you cry like this? I didn’t expect him out of everyone to behave this way.”

The more Minhyuk spoke, the worse you felt, and you’re barely able to ask him if he could be kind enough to leave you alone for a second when you hear a familiar voice calling your name.

“[Name]-ah…. Minhyuk-ah?!”

You and Minhyuk glance up to see Hyungwon approaching you, and you hurry to take your hand away from Minhyuk’s clutch.

Really, Hyungwon couldn’t have caught a worse timing.

Minhyuk shoots you a sad look, then gets up from his seat, goes to say something to Kihyun, then the two of them leave while Kihyun glances at you with a worried look on his face. You can’t get yourself to look at Hyungwon, so you’re looking at your hands, fingers fumbling while Hyungwon stands in his spot in front of you, not saying a single word.

More tears fall down your face when you remember Minhyuk’s words - and how wrong was he to assume the worst from the sweetest person you know, and it pains your heart because you knew if you looked in his eyes, you wouldn’t be able to stop crying.

“Why?”

Hyungwon says a single word, and honestly, that was the only thing you didn’t have an answer for.

Why were you crying?

You didn’t know.

Why can’t you look at Hyungwon?

You had no clue.

Why did Minhyuk know right away?

That too, you didn’t know at all.

Why can’t you answer him?

You had no reason.

So instead, you find tears streaming down your face, and you wish you could leave, but you felt like you owed Hyungwon at least this much, to hear what he had to say even if you felt like something was cutting through your heart.

“Stand up.”

It’s the first time you’ve heard him ask you to do something in that voice, an angry, impatient voice you’ve never imagined you’d ever be on the receiving end for.

“[Name]-ah.”

You hum in response, eyes on the ground. Hyungwon lets out an exhale and you can feel your hands trembling because it’s while you’re looking at his shoes with an aching heart, that you realize something you’ve been wishing so hard was not true.

You were in love with Chae Hyungwon.

Out of completely nowhere, so naturally.... You were so madly in love with Chae Hyungwon; so much that looking at him now would be too much to take, now.

“You heard everything I said, didn’t you?”

Now, that’s something you didn’t expect to hear from him. He had sounded so worried and embarrassed on the phone so you didn’t think he would have any suspicious, but here he was, showing you that he certainly did.

It makes you look up at his face for the first time today, and it pains your heart.

It paints your heart, because he’s wearing clothes with a lot of creases - something he’s been wearing to sleep, and he has on a beanie that covers most of his messy-looking hair, and he’s looking at you with puffy eyes and a frown that hurts so much to look at.

You couldn’t bear to look at him anymore so you shake your head in response. Hyungwon looks visibly disappointed, like he knew right away that you were lying. You think he has something more he wants to say, because his lips part a little… And then, he lets out a sigh and shakes his head as well.

“If you are this burdened by how I feel, then…” Hyungwon’s voice trails off, taking a step back and then turning around. You watch the way he walks out of the lounge without a word, and if you felt like you’d never been more hurt before, you were completely wrong, because nothing pained your heart more than watching the male leave like that, as if he had so much to say and couldn’t…. Just like how you felt while you sink back on the couch and cry your heart out.

And from that day onwards, Hyungwon doesn’t call you again.

-----

#hyungwon #chaehyungwon #monsta x #monsta x hyungwon #fluff #slowburn #pls help i love hyungwon so much

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deanstop13billyjoeltraxx · 3 years

Text

Superposition

a deancas college roommate au :)

Chapter 8 is up on AO3! Chapter-by-chapter masterlist here.

CW: mentions of verbal abuse, homophobia, alcoholism, jail time. instances of smoking.

some notes: I usually go through and italicize as necessary when I’m posting on tumblr because it doesn’t copy over from my og text, but this chapter is like 6200 words and i’m just not gonna do that. recommend reading on AO3 for the best experience!!

An Exercise in Futility

Three Years Earlier

Castiel was convinced that his life was one massive, cosmic joke.

He’d been considering the possibility for some time. Being the gay son of a homophobic pastor does that to a person. When he discovered, sometime around the age of twelve, that the girls in his Sunday school class were far less interesting than the boys, he could practically feel God laughing at him. Then there was high school, where the religious prattling was replaced by what felt like endless torment at the hands of his peers.

He felt like college was quickly becoming the third punchline.

Not that things were bad. Things were good, actually, better than they’d been in years. He was learning about things he cared about. He passed his midterms with flying colors. He even had friends. He spent a weekend watching all of the Lord of the Rings with Charlie. He had switched seats in accounting to sit next to Meg.

And, of course, there was Dean. Dean, who dragged Cas to a football game and didn’t drink a sip of alcohol the whole time in solidarity; Dean, who, after Tombstone, insisted on movie night every Tuesday; Dean, who, demanded that Cas print out a copy of one of his short stories and sign it (“When you’re a famous douchebag, this is gonna be worth so much money”).

It seemed that, on all fronts, Castiel had finally capitalized on the collegiate promise of a second chance.

But by his own estimation, he was doomed.

Because sometimes, his palms started sweating when Dean stood too close. Sometimes, his heartbeat skipped when Dean threw an arm across Cas’s shoulders. Sometimes, Cas woke up from a dream so vivid, he was disappointed to find himself alone in his bunk bed.

He could see how easy it would be to fall in love with Dean Winchester, what with the blond hair and green eyes, bright smiles and southern lilt, funny jokes and considerate actions. The prospect was utterly terrifying, and Castiel was doing everything in his power to stop dwelling on it.

He’d been down the “falling in love with your straight best friend” road before. AP biology class brought Cas a lab partner in Ben Wright. Soccer team captain, A-student, all around nice guy. Maybe Ben didn’t do anything to stop the constant verbal torment, but he never took part in it. At first, being around him was exhilarating. Sharing looks, catching smiles, trading inside jokes; Cas was intoxicated. He was so high on first love that he made the mistake of confiding in Bartholomew. Cas had always considered him to be a role model, friend and brother at the same time. But that night, when Cas came out, Bartholomew looked at him like one might look at spoiled food. He’d agreed not to tell their father, on the condition that Cas never speak about the matter again, that he figure out some way to “cleanse himself.” They hadn’t spoken since that night.

And so the feelings that once propelled Castiel to school with anticipation suddenly made him dread it. Not only did baring his soul to a brother get him a one-way ticket to estrangement, but Ben started dating someone else, a girl from his English class. Now every shared look was painful, smiles were false, inside jokes stopped being funny.

It was somehow worse, knowing Ben could never feel the same way. It certainly didn’t help the feelings of guilt and shame brought by his family.

Cas would do anything not to feel that way again.

He started by insisting that Dean invite Benny and Charlie to more of their nightly dinners. And while he honestly liked the both of them, he would be lying if he didn’t admit that their presence was, first and foremost, a distraction from Dean. He took up running again, as a way to get himself out of the dorm when Dean decided to stay in. He spent more time studying with Meg.

Meg was shockingly easy to befriend. She wasn’t nice — Cas had watched in shock when, once, she dumped a hot coffee on a skateboarder who had knocked her down on accident — but she never said a mean thing to Castiel. She was like him: a black sheep, the child everyone wished they could forget. Only, where Cas had become an agnostic and gone to college, Meg had become a Satanist and gone to jail for arson.

But this was her new leaf, she told him. Maybe it didn’t matter why someone needed a second chance, only that they were willing to take one.

They had been working for an hour when she threw her pen at his head and said, “Cas, you should come with me to Sig Ep’s Halloween party tomorrow. Be my date.”

Cas took a moment to process the meaning of party + date + with Meg. “Uh, I don’t — well, um, parties aren’t really —”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re allowed to say no, hun.”

Cas panicked. Meg was looking at him expectantly, her resigned smile making it clear she was prepared for rejection.

“Well, I… It’s not because of you — you’re very beautiful, and smart. Actually, you’re one of the most wonderful people I’ve met here.” She grinned at that. “It’s just, I don’t really… Go on dates. With girls.”

She studied him a moment before understanding lit up her face. “Oh.”

Castiel fidgeted with his pencil, refusing to meet her eyes. He’d only ever done this once, and it hadn’t gone well. But he liked having a friend, and more than that, he liked having Meg as a friend. He didn’t want her to think he wasn’t interested because of any fault of her own.

“Cas,” she said. When he didn’t respond, she poked him in the arm. “Castiel.” He raised his eyes. “It’s cool. It’s not like you can just choose to like girls when a pretty one asks you on a date.”

“I… Understand, if you would rather not be friends,” Cas said, cautiously.

“What?” Meg’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about? Why would I not want to be friends?” She laughed a little. “That would be super ironic, considering I told you I went to juvie and you didn’t bat an eye.”

“Because I’m gay,” Cas said quietly, looking down again.

Meg grabbed both his hands. “Cas, hun, there’s nothing wrong with being gay.”

He looked up again, eyes wide. “What? I mean, I know that, I just… Not everyone does.”

Meg smiled sadly at him and gripped his hands a little tighter. “Well, I do. No biggie. We’re going to be iconic together, you and I. Sexiest gay-straight alliance of all time.”

Cas smiled weakly, relief flooding his entire body. “Thank you, Meg. I’m sorry, I didn’t intend to make any judgements on your character. It’s just… This,” he motioned at the air between them, “has never gone well for me.”

Meg shook her head. “That’s a shame,” she said. “I haven’t known you that long. But I think I can tell that you — all the parts of you — are awesome.”

“You can still come to the party,” she added after a moment.

Cas shook his head, capping and uncapping his pen repeatedly. “Parties… They’re not really my scene.”

“All right. You know who to call if you change your mind.”

On Halloween, Castiel returned from his nightly run to find Dean pulling on a flannel. He checked his watch — he had barely made it. 6:57 pm.

“Right on time,” Dean said. “I was about to leave without you.”

“I would have never forgiven you if you did,” Cas joked. Then, “Are Charlie and Benny coming?”

“Nah, they’re both busy tonight. Halloween parties, you know.”

“Oh.” Castiel took a large sip of his water. “You’re not attending a Halloween party?”

Dean shrugged. “Wasn’t really feeling it tonight. Plus, I have a feeling you’ve never seen The Exorcist?” When Cas shook his head, Dean rubbed his hands together. “Oh man, we are totally watching it tonight. Unless you’re busy,” he added, raising his eyebrows at Cas.

“I’m not,” Cas replied. Dean knew this already, of course, otherwise Cas might have made something up. The waters in which he tread got more dangerous each day. He couldn’t escape the warm feeling flooding his chest at the idea of Dean ditching the parties for a movie night.

It was precisely that feeling that caused him to hurriedly ask, “Would you mind if I invited Meg to dinner?”

“Who?” Dean asked, lacing up his boots.

“Meg Masters. She’s the friend from accounting that I told you about.”

“Ah,” Dean said. “Right. What, just me isn’t good enough anymore?” Cas thought he was joking, but it seemed forced.

“Dean —”

“I’m kidding, man,” Dean said with a short laugh. “Sure, she can come.”

Castiel hurriedly splashed his face with cold water and shed his sweaty t-shirt in favor of a hoodie. Dean feigned a sniff in his direction and made a face, to which Cas replied with an eye-roll. As they left their dorm, Cas sent a text to Meg.

CN (7:02 pm)

Would you like to get dinner with Dean and me?

CN (7:02 pm)

Unless you’re already at your party, in which case, be safe.

MM (7:03 pm)

Party not til later. hot roommate dean?

CN (7:04 pm)

...Is that a yes?

MM (7:04 pm)

Yes please ;) shocker dining?

CN (7:05 pm)

Yes. We’ll meet you there.

Dean grabbed a burger and an inordinate amount of fries while Castiel loaded his plate with spaghetti and a salad. Meg walked into the dining room just after he and Dean sat down, and Cas waved her over.

“Meg,” he said, offering her the seat next to his, “this is Dean Winchester. Dean, this is Meg Masters.” Dean smiled at her with a mouthful of french fries. Cas dropped his head in exasperation.

“Pleasure,” Meg said with a half-cocked smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Dean shrugged. “I am pretty awesome. Can’t say the same about you, though.”

Cas went bright red. He shot Dean a glare, then turned to Meg. “He’s joking —”

Meg’s grin only widened, and she giggled. “It’s all right, Cas, I’m not very interesting.” She raised an eyebrow at him. He became extremely intent upon eating his dinner.

Dean stared at her for a moment, chewing a bite of burger. “So,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “You know Cas from accounting?”

“That’s right,” Meg said brightly.

“So he’s your tutor or somethin’?”

Cas interjected. “Actually, Meg is far more capable than I am. She essentially taught me everything about liabilities.”

“Adorable,” Dean grumbled.

“Isn’t it?” Meg asked sweetly. “And you’re his roommate.”

“Yep.”

“Lucky you.” She gave him a wink. Dean choked on his diet Coke, and Castiel prayed to whomever was listening that he might cease to exist.

“Meg,” he said, giving her a pointed look, “did you finish the homework?”

She pulled her eyes away from Dean. “Yeah, I did.” She dropped her voice. “Did you want to go over it? At my place?” She winked at Cas, who stared at her in horror. Why was she acting like this? “You know,” Meg continued, “We can do other things too. Besides accounting.”

Dean cleared his throat loudly. “I’m gonna go grab some more fries. Do y’all want anything?”

Cas and Meg shook their heads. When Dean had left the table, Cas gave Meg a death stare.

“What’s wrong with you?” He hissed. “I thought we covered this —”

“Yes, Cas, hun, I know you’re extraordinarily gay,” Meg said with an eyeroll. “I’m not actually interested. I’m just conducting an experiment.”

Cas narrowed his eyes. “What ‘experiment’—”

He closed his mouth abruptly and leaned away from Meg when he saw Dean returning from the buffet line. He returned to his seat, looking between Cas and Meg suspiciously. Cas downed his water in one swift action.

“So, Dean,” Meg said after taking a bite of her pizza. “I hear you’re educating our friend here on pop culture.”

Dean didn’t bother to look up at her while he swirled a fry in ketchup. “Guess so.”

Cas cleared his throat to interject. This direction of conversation was much better. “Meg asked what my favorite movie was,” he explained to Dean, who still hadn’t looked up from his plate. “I told her about how much I liked Back to the Future when we watched it last week.”

Dean gave him a small smile. “Yeah, that movie’s friggin’ awesome.”

Cas turned to Meg. “We’re watching The Exorcist tonight.”

Meg gasped dramatically. “So that’s why you blew off our date?”

Dean sputtered into his drink. “Date?” He said through a cough.

Cas looked helplessly at Meg, who unhelpfully smiled back. He was going to have words with her after this.

“I asked him to come to the SigEp party, but he said he was busy,” Meg said, feigning a pout. “But I get it, parties aren’t really Cas’s thing, anyway.”

Dean’s eyes flickered quickly between Cas and Meg. “All right, am I missing something?” He asked. His leg was bouncing against the table leg, hard enough that Cas’s plate was vibrating.

Cas looked at him, panicked, and stuttered out, “I don’t —”

“Like what?” Meg asked, sipping on her water.

“You his girlfriend or somethin’?”

This question delighted Meg. “Why don’t you ask him?”

Dean turned to Cas with an exasperated look. “Well?” He prodded.

Cas was sure he was about three different shades of red at this point. “What — I — no,” he sputtered.

Dean seemed to relax a little. Meg was still grinning like a madman. “There you go,” she said.

Castiel could not formulate a single coherent thought. He was confused as to how they even ended up here. The silence between the three of them was thick and awkward. Meg paid it no mind, just popped a strawberry in her mouth and gave Dean a sickly sweet smile. Dean excused himself to use the restroom, hitting his leg on the table and nearly tripping over his chair. Once he had left, Meg turned to Cas, her eyes sparkling.

“You are so in,” she said.

“What the hell was that?” He asked her. “What just happened?”

“He thinks I’m into you,” she explained. She took a bite of her pizza, then continued, “And he thinks you might be into me. And he hates that.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Cas scoffed.

Meg laughed, throwing her head back. When Cas fixed her with a glare, her eyes widened. “You really don’t see it?”

Cas pinched the bridge of his nose. “There’s nothing to ‘see’. I already told you.”

“Yeah, right. Whatever, you’ll thank me later.”

“For creating what is perhaps the most awkward dinner I’ve ever had in my life?”

She waved him off. “Don’t be such a baby, it wasn’t that bad.”

Cas gave her a look that suggested otherwise. She sighed.

“Look, the way you talk about him…” Meg grabbed Cas's hand when he rolled his eyes. “I’m serious. You like him, and now you know he likes you too.” She sat up proudly. “I just did all the heavy lifting for you.”

“Right,” Cas said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Obviously, this interaction points to an inevitable romantic encounter. Except, and I think this is important, Dean is not gay.”

Meg raised an eyebrow. “Well, the way he looks at you, he’s not straight either. Plus, he apparently still thinks you’re straight, so you two haven’t had that conversation yet. He could be flamingly bisexual and you would never know.”

“This conversation is exhausting.” Cas felt like he was watching a Disney Channel Original Movie, and Meg was a fifteen-year-old matchmaker.

Meg laughed. “I’m sure you’ll survive. By the way, did you actually want to go over the homework this weekend?”

“Yes,” he said, relieved at the change in subject.

Dean returned then. “Are y’all done?” He asked, pointing to their plates. Cas and Meg both nodded, offering “thank you’s” as Dean took their plates to the dish rack. They followed him to the exit, the crisp air sending a chill through Castiel.

“Did you want me to walk back with you, Meg?” Cas offered.

She beamed at him. “You’re so sweet, but no. I’m getting an Uber to Sig Ep, anyway.” She dug into her coat pocket and pulled out something small and black. “Plus, if anyone tries anything, they’ll find themselves electrocuted. Just a little bit.”

Cas grinned. Dean raised an eyebrow.

“See you on Monday, Cas,” Meg said, giving him a hug that lasted just a touch too long. “It was good to meet you, Dean.”

“You too,” Dean muttered.

They watched her walk away for a moment. Cas wanted to avoid looking at Dean for as long as humanly possible. He had no idea how he was supposed to explain the previous interaction.

“So,” Dean said, clearing his throat. “She’s… Nice.”

“She is,” Castiel agreed earnestly. “Dean, I’m sorry, Meg can be a bit…” He struggled to find an adequate descriptor. “I think she enjoys others’ discomfort a bit too much, sometimes,” he finished.

Dean let out a short laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess so. It’s not a big deal, man.”

They stood in silence, Dean looking at the ground intently, Cas tugging on the strings of his hoodie. Dean kicked a rock, then sighed. “You, uh, you ready to head back?”

“Yes,” Cas replied.

The walk back to their dorm was quiet. Castiel couldn’t tell for sure, but he thought Dean looked bothered. He felt bad — he had honestly expected for Meg and Dean to get along. He had thought them to be similar in their confident and boisterous personalities. Now, he wondered if that was precisely the problem. Too much personality at the same dinner table. He winced internally at his own poor judgement. Meg obviously took no issue with the encounter, but he worried that Dean might hold it against him.

Dean let them into their room, then wrinkled his nose at Cas once more. “Dude, seriously, go take a shower. You’re gross.”

“Actually, I enjoy the feeling of my sweat drying all over my skin. I was thinking of going straight to bed like this. It’s not as if I didn’t take a shower because of your constant insistence upon eating meals at the same time every day”

Dean made a gagging motion. “Hey, we had an appointment, and you were almost late. How is that my fault?”

Cas just rolled his eyes and gathered his things to head to the showers. He let out a muttered, “Crap” when he realized nearly all of his laundry was dirty. He’d been busy this week, and running every day tended to render his clothes unwearable after a single use. He made a mental note to do laundry first thing in the morning. He was able to find an old pair of gym shorts, but not a single t-shirt remained in his closet. Cas groaned inwardly. So he would simply have to sit next to Dean for approximately two-and-a-half hours, shirtless. Fantastic.

When he returned from his shower, Cas found Dean cooking two bags of popcorn, the title menu of The Exorcist already on screen. Dean stood up from the microwave when Cas entered, and was halfway into a thumbs-up when he did a double take.

“Uh… We goin’ shirtless tonight, Baywatch?” He said, tugging at his collar.

Castiel tilted his head. “I don’t understand that reference.”

“Of course you don’t,” Dean said with a chuckle. “Seriously, though, dude.”

Cas sighed as he sat on their beanbag. “I have a lot of laundry to do tomorrow,” he said by way of an explanation.

Dean didn’t respond, but made his way to his own closet. He ruffled through it for a moment before Cas was hit in the face by a t-shirt.

“Here, just wear one of mine,” Dean said. He coughed and crossed his arms over his chest. “‘S kinda cold in here, anyway.”

Cas held up the shirt. It was a Led Zeppelin graphic tee, vintage, from their tour in 1977. Cas raised his eyebrows at Dean.

“It’s pretty awesome right?” Cas donned the t-shirt. “Sammy got it for me from a Goodwill a couple years ago. Another of my prized possessions.” He looked at Cas with feigned scrutiny. “Looks good on you,” he said.

Cas played with the hem as he said, “Thank you.” Dean coughed again and walked back to the microwave to retrieve their popcorn. The air was palpable with awkwardness.

Dean turned out the lights. They settled onto the beanbag, as had become custom in the last few weeks.

Not even thirty minutes in, Dean’s phone began to ring. “Hey, my brother’s callin’, can you pause it?” Dean said.

Cas obliged, and Dean stood as he said, “Hey, Sammy, how’s it goin’?”

Cas sat awkwardly with his hands in his lap, doing his best not to eavesdrop on Dean’s conversation. Though, he supposed if it was private, Dean could have moved to the hallway. Instead, he leaned against the door, twisting the beaded bracelet on his left hand.

“He did what?” Dean suddenly yelled, and Cas jumped. Dean shot him a quick apologetic look. “

“Sammy, calm down, it’s okay,” Dean said, and Cas couldn’t pretend to not listen anymore. He looked at Dean with a silent question, but Dean was staring hard at the wall, his free hand balled into a fist.

“Put him on the phone,” Dean said in a low voice. A pause. “What, so now he’s allowed to treat you like shit whenever he wants?” Another pause. A slow exhale from Dean. “No, you’re right. I don’t… I won’t make it worse.” Pause. “Do you want me to come down there? Because I will, you know I will.”

Dean was silent for a long moment before asking, “Are you sure?” He sighed at whatever his brother said on the other line. “Okay. Let me know if you need anything, I guess. And Sam? I’m really fucking sorry. I should’ve stayed, I don’t…” He trailed off and pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, I know. Yeah. Okay, I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”

Dean lowered the phone from his ear. He stood silently for a moment, angry gaze directed at the floor. Then, causing Cas to jump once more, he turned and hurled his fist at the door.

There was a loud thud upon impact, and then Dean was yelling “Fuck! Goddammit!” as he cradled his hand. Cas stood abruptly, but had no idea what to do. He walked toward Dean, cautiously.

Dean’s eyes were closed, and he was heaving deep breaths. Cas put a hand on his shoulder. “Dean?” He ventured.

“Sorry,” Dean mumbled, still not looking at Cas. “I just — Fuck, that was so stupid,” he said, shaking out his affected hand. “Sorry,” he repeated to the wall.

“It’s fine,” Cas said, even though he thought it definitely wasn’t. “What happened?”

Dean just shook his head. Cas’s hand remained on his shoulder. He tightened his grip, a little nervous that Dean might shove him off. “Dean,” he persisted. “You can tell me.”

Finally, Dean looked at him, and Cas thought if that level of rage was ever directed at him, he would promptly die. Instead, he raised an eyebrow. “Are you all right?”

“No,” Dean growled. “I gotta — I don’t know, I need to calm down. I don’t actually want to break something,” he said, motioning to the door. “I’m gonna go for a smoke.”

Cas dropped his hand and folded his arms across his chest. “I’ll go with you.”

“Cas —” Dean started, but Cas silenced him with a look. He grabbed one of Dean’s flannels from his desk chair and threw it at him. Dean caught it with a cross between surprise and irritation. Cas grabbed his own windbreaker and put it on, looking expectantly at Dean.

“Are we going?” He asked.

Dean looked at him as if he was trying to decide whether arguing was worth it. A sigh confirmed that it wasn’t. He silently pulled on his flannel and opened the door, ushering Cas through before exiting himself.

They walked in silence, despite the fervor of Cas’s concern and curiosity at Dean’s outburst. Dean’s jaw was set, and he took a long, slow breath when they hit the crisp fall air. When they reached the Impala, Cas silently moved to lean on the hood while Dean retrieved his lighter and a cigarette.

Dean joined Cas as he took a long draw. He exhaled the smoke upwards, his eyes closed. His face was still turned to the sky when he asked, “This really doesn’t bother you?”

“What?”

Dean brandished his cigarette in answer, turning to raise an eyebrow at Cas.

Cas shrugged. “It’s not particularly comforting. But, there are worse things.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked up thoughtfully. “Besides, you’ve been smoking for years. If anyone could convince you to quit, your random college roommate isn’t the most likely option.”

Dean gave him a strange look before exhaling another plume of smoke. He coughed a little. “I think you have long passed the line between ‘random roommate’ and ‘new best friend.’”

Cas gave a little chuckle. “That’s good to hear.” Inside, his world was falling down and rebuilding itself anew. Dean thought of Cas as his best friend. Cas had never known that feeling, to have someone care about him like that. Cas wondered if that could be enough, being Dean’s best friend.

He didn’t say anything more, though, just let Dean finish his cigarette. After throwing the butt on the pavement and stomping on it, he heaved a sigh.

“My dad…” He started, but paused. “He, uh, he said some stuff to Sam. My brother.”

Cas nodded, doing his best to keep his face neutral. Talking things through wasn’t Dean’s strong suit, and Cas didn’t want dramatics to make it more difficult.

“What did he say?”

Dean shifted and rubbed his hands together. “Bunch of bullshit. ‘It’s your fault your Mom’s dead, it should have been you instead of her.’” Dean rubbed a hand over his mouth. “I mean, he used to say that to me. He gets into these moods when he drinks, says a bunch of shit he doesn’t mean.”

Dean shoved himself off the hood and began to pace in front of Cas. “But I could take it, you know? Sammy’s just a kid. He doesn’t need to hear that.”

“Your father says things like this often?” Cas asked, a tinge of horror in his voice.

“He used to. But only to me. Never to Sam.”

Cas took a deep breath, trying to discern how best to proceed. “Dean,” he said slowly, “he shouldn’t say those things. Ever. Not to Sam, and not to you.”

“I’m just confused,” Dean said. “And pissed. Sam and him are usually okay. I mean, they’re not buddies or anything, but Dad leaves him alone for the most part.”

“I don’t want to overstep,” Cas said, “But it seems like your father used you as an outlet for misplaced rage. A punching bag, if you will. And now you’re gone, so Sam is the next best thing.”

Dean met Cas'seyes with a horrified look. “God. I didn’t… You’re right. Shit, this is my fault, I can’t believe I —”

“No, Dean,” Cas growled. He stood and grabbed Dean by both shoulders. “This is your father’s fault. Not yours.”

“But I left Sam, alone, with him,” Dean said, and Cas could see panic rising in his eyes. “How could I do that, why —” Cas interrupted him again. “Why did you decide to attend college, Dean? What’s the real reason?”

“What?” Dean gave him an incredulous look. “I don’t know.”

Cas tilted his head down, skeptical.

Dean let out a long sigh. “Okay, all right. I went because Sam is smart, and he needs to go. But we don’t have any money. So I figured if I came and got a degree or some shit, I could make enough to throw him some cash while he goes to school. Get some summer internships and save up for his college fund. He’d probably still have to take out loans and stuff, but if I got a good job, I could help him pay them off.”

Cas wasn’t sure what answer he had expected, but it wasn’t that one. He felt his heart break for the man standing in front of him, who did everything he could and more for the people he cared about and never felt like it was enough.

“Would Sam ever hold that against you?” When Dean didn’t respond, Cas continued. “I know I wouldn’t. I have four older siblings, and not a single one of them has ever done something like that for me.”

“But—”

“You’re making yourself miserable over something that isn’t your fault,” Cas said. “Did you have anyone protecting you when your father went on a tirade?”

“No, but—”

“Is Sam incapable of handling himself?”

“No, but Cas—”

“He’ll be alright, Dean,” Cas insisted. “You can’t live your whole life as his shield. You’ll break yourself trying.”

Dean was silent, and wouldn’t meet Cas's eyes. Cas dropped his hands and leaned back against the Impala. “Did you ever think that Sam might have wanted you to go to school simply so you could get yourself out? Did you ever think that Sam hates the way your father treated you as much as you hate what he did to Sam tonight?”

Dean pursed his lips together, but his jaw relaxed slightly. Finally, he muttered, “I guess I never thought about it like that.”

Cas felt relief wash over him. He’d never seen Dean like this — angry and frantic. Cas wondered if Dean always did this, shouldered the blame for every bad thing his brother had to endure. The thought made his chest hurt.

Dean’s hands were hanging limply at his side. He looked exhausted. Against his better judgement, Cas grabbed Dean by the forearm and pulled him into a hug. Dean was still for a moment, but then sighed and rested his head on Cas's shoulder.

“Sorry, man,” he said. “I didn’t mean to act like that, punching things and shit. I just get so angry, and I don’t know what to do with it.”

Cas was trying very hard to form a coherent thought. “There’s no need for apologies. I understand.”

A chuckle escaped Dean’s lips. “You must think I’m a complete nutjob, huh?”

Cas tilted his head in consideration. Dean’s hair tickled his cheek. “No. I think your father spent years verbally abusing you, and you’re doing your best in spite of that.”

Dean broke the hug abruptly. The sudden space between them felt criminal. “I mean, I don’t know if it’s abuse…” He started, but, at Cas's look, he trailed off. Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks, Cas,” he said quietly. “Honestly, dude, I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

Cas's cheeks warmed, and he shrugged. “You would have done the same for me.”

Dean gave him a small smile. Cas’s heart nearly broke with relief. “I’m beat,” he said. “Bed?”

Cas nodded eagerly. “Bed.”

When they reached the stairs, Dean broke the heavy silence.

“So…” He began. There was a false brightness in his voice; he was obviously searching for levity. “You hanging out with your girlfriend tomorrow?”

“If you’re referring to Meg, she’s still not my girlfriend,” Cas replied vacantly. “And yes.” He suddenly felt exhausted. First the mortifying dinner with Meg, then the heavy conversation with Dean. He hardly had it in him to field jokes about Meg being his girlfriend.

“She’s not your girlfriend yet,” Dean amended, giving Cas a smirk that didn’t meet his eyes.

And what was Cas supposed to say to that? Meg was funny and smart and beautiful. She and Cas studied together on the regular. There was absolutely no reason he shouldn’t be interested in Meg from Dean’s perspective.

Of course, if Dean knew he was gay…

Cas didn’t know if he could face the consequences of coming out to Dean. Would he be upset that Cas hadn’t told him earlier? Would he be uncomfortable with a gay man as his roommate? As his friend? Cas may have expanded his social circle, but he still couldn’t bear to lose Dean.

But, then again, Dean had defended him once already, without knowing whether or not he was gay. He’d sounded indifferent to the possibility then. And just tonight, he’d called Cas his best friend. Dean cared more deeply for his friends and family than anyone Cas had ever met. Cas was in that group. Dean wouldn’t shove him out of it because of who he loved.

Right?

As they reached the entrance to their hall, Dean poked Cas in the shoulder. “Hey, Earth to Major Tom,” he said. “You okay over there?”

Cas realized he hadn’t said a word since they started their ascent up the stairs. He sighed heavily.

Perhaps this was as good a time as any.

“Dean,” he said, but closed his mouth. He should just say it. He had nothing to worry about. This wasn’t Bartholomew. He knew that, but the words remained stuck in his throat.

“What?” Dean said, eyebrows raised. “Cas,” he prodded, waving a hand in front of Cas’s face.

“I’m not…” Cas swallowed. “I will never date Meg,” he finished, with a pointed look.

Dean side-eyed him as they walked to their door. “What, she’s not your type?”

Cas gave him a lopsided smile. “You could say that.”

“I dunno, man, maybe you should reconsider, you two are pretty adorable, in a gross way —”

“Dean.” Cas was about to rip his hair out. He wasn’t taking the hint. “She’s not my type. She’s a girl.”

Realization dawned on Dean’s face. “Oh,” he said.

“I apologize for not telling you sooner,” Cas said, bracing for the worst. “If that makes you uncomfortable, I understand —”

“What?” Dean practically shouted. At Cas’s look of surprise, he lowered his voice. “No, Cas, are you kidding? I thought I told you, after all that shit with Cole. It’s not a big deal.”

“Knowing your roommate might possibly be gay and knowing he is, indeed, gay are two very different things.”

Dean looked at Cas like he had just made the worst joke in the world. “I’m not gonna, like, try to move out.” As they approached their room, Cas stared resolutely ahead, walking with purpose. But Dean jumped out in front of him, a hand on Cas’s chest to stop him in his tracks.

“Dude, it’s gonna take more than that to get rid of me. I lost my shit and punched a door, like, an hour ago, and you barely even blinked.” Dean crossed his arms over his chest.

Cas met Dean’s eyes and found unparalleled sincerity.

“I don’t… You’re not the least bit upset?” Cas asked, slightly incredulous.

Dean shrugged. “You’re my best friend, Cas,” he said as he straightened. “Nothing’s gonna change that.” He pulled on his bracelet. “I do feel bad though, for making you feel like you couldn’t tell me. Not that you had to, or anything,” he added in a rush.

Cas shook his head vigorously. “It has nothing to do with you, Dean. I’m… I’m new at this,” Cas explained. “The first time, with Bartholomew… I believe he was, as you would say, a dick about it.”

Dean’s eyes turned stormy. “Bastard,” he said. “I’m sorry, Cas. You shouldn’t have had to deal with that.”

Cas nodded. “You’re right. It was rather unfortunate. I haven’t spoken to him since the night I told him I was gay.”

Dean moved back to Cas’s side and slung an arm around his shoulders. “His loss,” he said. “You’re friggin’ awesome, dude.”

Cas smiled. Dean patted him on the back and let the two of them into their room.

Cas brushed his teeth and climbed into bed. Dean returned minutes later from a shower, and he flipped off the lights as he made his way to his own bunk.

Cas pulled off Dean’s shirt and threw it across the room. Dean’s head caught it, and he yelped.

“Thank you for the loan,” Cas said, smiling.

An odd expression crossed Dean’s face before he threw the Zeppelin shirt back to Cas. “Keep it,” he said. When Cas gave him a confused look, he put a hand on the back of his neck. “I meant what I said. Looks good on you.”

---------

tagging @nguyenxtrang :)))

#supernatural #destiel #deancas #destiel fic #spn

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akkermans · 3 years

Photo

( madelyn cline / cis woman ) PHILIPPA ‘PIP’ AKKERMANS is 22 years old and is a JUNIOR at thales university. SHE is majoring in JOURNALISM and is known for being THE DESPONDENT as SHE can be CURIOUS and INSIGHTFUL as well as SELF-PUNISHING and MOODY. every time i see HER, SHE reminds me of SMOKE RISING FROM A CIGARETTE, THE CRUNCH OF LEAVES UNDERFOOT, INCOHERENT SCRIBBLINGS IN A NOTEBOOK.

hi hello hi i’m hero, i’m 22, she/they and i live in the est tz! i’m a recentish graduate who likes horror, my cat, and a damn fine cup of coffee!! i’m so excited to be here w/ pip!! if u wld like to plot, give this a like or hmu on my discord @ ‘garlic bed #3345′!!

full name: philippa ‘pip’ akkermans

birthdate: june 24, 1998

age: 22

gender: cisgender woman

pronouns: she/her

zodiac: cancer

nationality: dutch-american

ethnicity: white

hometown: utrecht, the netherlands

languages: dutch, german, english

family:

julian akkermans, father

lotte de vries, stepmother

amelia akkermans, mother (deceased)

sophie akkermans, twin sister (deceased)

orientation: bisexual biromantic

religion: atheist (formerly catholic)

height: 5 ft 6 in

distinguishing features: thin scar from crown of head to right eyebrow, eyes, lips

character inspo: theo crain, alaska young, shane and ryan from buzzfeed unsolved, camille preaker

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃

TRIGGERS: death, car accident, alcohol and drug use, mental illness (depression, ptsd)

born in utrecht, the netherlands to a dutch father and american mother, pip akkermans’ life has been marked with tragedy since she was born. it seems to follow her. she was born five minutes before her twin sister, sophie, but as the two girls took their first breath, their mother took her last, leaving julian akkermans a single father.

growing up without a mother, pip and sophie found solace in each other, forming a bond akin to many twins, one so close, so dependent, it was like they were in their own little bubble. sophie was always the bright one, the one who walked into a room and immediately lit it up. pip was always the quieter of the two, her energy more dour, more withdrawn. but together they were a team, causing trouble left and right, getting out of it with sophie’s sweet smile.

their father was never the same after their mother died, but the coldness that possessed julian was all they’ve ever known. often times he was out of the house, unable to properly step up in the role of father to girls that were the spitting image of his lost love and the sole reason she’s gone. he drank. a lot. but he was never violent, simply sad.

he starts going out a lot, and eventually, brings home a woman that he says is going to become their step mother. a wedding quickly ensues. there’s a meanness in her, a clear disdain for the twins. but they don’t care, they don’t need to. they have each other. they’ll always have each other.

they’re fourteen and visiting amsterdam for the weekend when their car is hit head on by another, there’s enough momentum to flip them twice. the driver and pip are fine, minor injuries, but sophie passes away before anyone arrives, her hand in her sister’s as she takes her last breath.

pip is distraught, and for obvious reasons, she’s lost the better part of herself, even though she promised she wouldn’t go away. if her dad is heartbroken, he doesn’t show it. he simply continues to pull away. eventually sending pip to live with her aunt in america, rhode island to be specific.

she doesn’t exactly adjust well, not only is she still reeling from the death of her sister, but she’s experiencing intense feelings of detachment and nightmares of sophie every night, among other symptoms. her aunt eventually takes her to a psychologist, where she’s eventually diagnosed with depression and ptsd.

thus begins her long journey into managing her mental health, her aunt showing a surprising amount of support. she wishes on some level, that she had always grown up with her, that her father sent them away when they were children, maybe she wouldn’t feel so alone. maybe sophie would still be here.

for the first year in america, she doesn’t quite have friends, because she prefers her usual solitude. but eventually, she finds her group of friends, within her soccer team, her clubs, anything to get her mind off of her old life.

she tries to be normal, she really does, but she knows something is off– she feels empty, all the time, and her medication makes her feel like a zombie. eventually she falls into a crowd that is prone to partying, drinking, smoking. she’s sneaking out most nights to join them at their spot.

her senior year, she spins out, has a very public breakdown, that ends up leading to her taking a leave of absence from school, and essentially once again, returning to pariah status.

she does manage to graduate and get into thales university, by sheer force and extracurriculars, where she begins majoring in journalism, because it’s always been something she’s interested in, having been a part of her school’s newspaper before, well, everything.

she meets nana in one of their gen eds, and they hit it off immediately. they’re practically inseparable for a few years, until there’s an incident of pip being caught in a compromising position with one of nana’s flings at the time (it wasn’t what it looked like) and before she has a chance to explain, they’re no longer speaking.

nana goes missing a few weeks afterwards, and the emptiness comes back, feeling guilty as if it was her fault. as if everything that has happened has been a result of knowing pip and her general trail of misery. she was going to apologize, too. she just never got the chance.

now with the death of steven, her curiosity is piqued, her journalistic instinct triggered by the mystery afoot, and focusing on that means she doesn’t have to think about herself, because by god, she does not want to think about herself.

TL;DR: pip and her twin sister, sophie, are born in utrecht, the netherlands– their mother dies when they’re born. their father withdraws, eventually remarrying a bitter woman. when pip and sophie are 14, they’re involved in an accident that takes sophie’s life, and leaves pip alone, a bit traumatized. she moves to america to live with her maternal aunt, and goes to high school there, until she essentially has a breakdown her senior year. she meets nana her first year of thales, and they’re inseparable until a misunderstanding a month or two before she disappeared. now with steven’s death, she’s using her journalism skills to investigate it all.

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

between the melancholy is a very bright girl. she’s always been rather inquisitive and observant, the quieter one of the akkermans twins. as she grows older, learns to live without her sister, learns to live alone, she grows into her own voice. she becomes someone unafraid to speak her mind, simply because she has nothing left to lose. she’s a bit dry, a bit sarcastic, and her humor can border morbid on occasion because she’s gotta laugh or else she’ll cry. she has a bit of trouble sticking her nose in places it shouldn’t be. she’s rather loyal, but it takes a lot for her to trust you– she trusted nana, and look where that got her. that being said, she has long bouts of depression, and detachment, which she’s been trying to manage for years now, but still, in the quiet moments, there’s a feeling the girl is rather– haunted.

𝐓𝐈𝐃𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒

she has pretty good investigative skills! she works on the newspaper at the school, so she’s kind of all over the place

explores a lot, likes to wander because it clears her head, though it also means she’ll probably enter places she’s not usually allowed (i.e. abandoned buildings, etc.)

also a soccer player! she’s played soccer for a good amount of her life, except her senior year of high school when she withdrew, she’s debating quitting the team here though

has a slight dutch accent, it’s noticeable mostly on specific words

disaster bi….. disaster bisexual…. usually stumbles into relationships and they never last due to her own shortcomings

can’t drive fr shit never learned how, fr some… obvious reasons, has some anxiety getting

has a few tattoos! her first and favorite was two butterflies on her wrist for sophie

has two piercings in each ear, a daith piercing in her right, and a upper cartilege piercing on her left

doesn’t really talk about her sister, however, claims she sees her/feels her sometimes

a skeptical believer of ghosts and spirits, mostly likes the stories that comes with her

speaks to her father once every two years, their relationship is nonexistent

likes to have a beer every so often but doesn’t exactly party, if u do see her at parties she’s prob lounging on a couch chatting with someone who’s name she’ll never remember

lived on campus for the first two years but this year got her own apartment, has an esa, a two year old scottish fold named noodle

has an extensive collection of sweaters and cardigans

kind of an old lady……. just learning about tiktok now

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

partner in crime – the ryan to her shane, the trixie to her katya, maybe they’re not the best of friends but they get into a LOT of trouble together

the reason nana and her stopped talking – pretty much nana walked in on a situation and misread it entirely and her drama loving ass cut pip off until her disappearance

friends

former friends – pip pulls away a lot, she is the undoer in a lot of relationships… or maybe it was your muse….

roommates (2-3) – new girl-esque shenanigans to be had!

newspaper coworkers

soccer teammates

someone she’s been helping with a case

fwb (f/m/nb) – girl has got needs, and doesn’t always like to be alone so

exes (f/m/nb) – prob broke up because pip’s inability to ever truly connect to other’s… haha! or it could be on good terms, and they’re pals now

crush (f/m/nb) – either way, reciprocated or unreciprocated, but it’s weird and you’re both kinda hot?

people she has Hooked Up w/ and now it’s awkard (f/m/nb)

rivals, but are we?

only likes her because her cat – noodle rights, babey!

‘she accidentally stole your coffee order once, but hey, she’s pretty cool’ – prob bought u a new one after she drank a bit of it…. now you see each other around fondly

‘she stuck her nose in your business for the Scoop’

hate-to-love friendship – i want to k*ll you to hey you’re pretty alright but don’t tell anybody i said that

‘you sent her an anonymous tip, but she accidentally figured out it was you’

someone who gets her out of her shell – takes her to parties! out with friends!

anything in my wanted tag!

#pyrrhic.intro #intro.#death tw #car accident tw #alcohol use tw #drug use tw #ptsd tw #depression tw #blood tw #only because the watercolor on the graphic does look a lil like it

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nearlymanaged · 4 years

Text

9. James The Owl

It was one of those nights; the ones that mocked Sirius with the sounds of deep, steady breathing of his sleeping roommates. He had been lying in bed for hours, not a trace of sleep in his own tired eyes. Instead, he was left with bad memories that kept replaying over and over again in his head. He thought about how much had changed and wondered about how much was yet to come.

He’d always found it easy to give and receive affection - in spite of being deprived of both growing up - but on a night like this, his mind had wandered to a dark place, deep beneath his usual facade of careless charm and mischievous lovability. He wondered if he was truly capable of ever experiencing genuine love. He wondered if he deserved it, if he was too much of a Black for it.

But his train of thought came to a sudden halt, his heart nearly leaping out of his throat, when the gentle quiet of the night was shattered by a loud gasp. He sat up, fumbling with the red curtains of his bed, until he saw Remus propping himself up on his elbows.

“What’s the matter?” Sirius whispered.

“I-I hurt someone…” Moony panted, glancing around and blinking fiercely. “Is it full moon again?...”

Without thinking, Sirius pulled himself up and plopped down on the edge of Remus’ bed. This wasn’t the first night that had been interrupted by werewolf nightmares.

“We’ve still got a week left until the last full moon of this year, my love…” Sirius froze momentarily, realising what he’d just said and how effortlessly it had tumbled out of his mouth; Remus, however, didn’t seem to have noticed it. “It was just a dream.”

“It was…”

“Yes. You’ve never hurt anyone in your life,” Sirius murmured.

“Bloody hell…” Remus’ breathing was frantic still, as if he’d been running. “It seemed so real…”

As Sirius squinted at him in the dark, he could just make out his horror-stricken face. “Are you alright? Do you want some tea or something? Hot cocoa?”

“N-no, I’m fine. I just need to…” He swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “I think I just need to take a little walk.”

“Where are you going to walk to?” Sirius couldn’t keep the note of mirth out of his voice.

“To er… Maybe just down to the common room, I suppose. I just need to stretch my legs…” And with that, Moony got up and quietly walked over to the door. Before it swung shut though, Sirius grabbed his wand and followed him out.

“Are you sure you don’t need anything?” He asked again, a little louder now since they were out of their sleeping friends’ earshot.

“No… Thanks, Sirius.” Remus started pacing around the old sofas and armchairs. “Sorry I woke you up. You can go back to sleep, you know. I won’t drop dead or anything.”

“Eh, sleep’s overrated anyway.” Sirius pointed his wand at the fireplace and mumbled Incendio.

“I feel so childish,” Remus breathed out after a few minutes filled with the cozy crackling of the flames; he’d stopped in front of the fireplace, his back turned on Sirius who was now sitting on a sofa. “Having night terrors…”

“Childish? Moony, you’re quite possibly the single bravest person I know.”

“Kind of you to humour me,” he turned around. “You know many sixth years who can’t fall asleep after a nightmare?”

“You know many sixth years who turn into a werewolf every month and yet somehow remain to be the loveliest people that anyone could ever hope to know in their lives?”

Remus shuffled from one bare foot to another for a moment, his expression turning into an embarrassed smile that was threatening to melt Sirius’ heart into a puddle. Then, the black haired boy patted the seat beside him and Remus walked over and sat down, hugging his knees to his chest, while Sirius pointed his wand at a stack of folded blankets in the corner of the room and summoned one.

He watched Moony lie down on his side, resting his head on the opposite end of the sofa, then threw the blanket over him. They stayed like that for a while, quietly, without talking. Some ten minutes later, Sirius leaned over to take a look at Remus’ face.

“Are you asleep?” He breathed weakly.

“No, it’s too quiet,” Remus answered without opening his eyes.

“I can read for you.” Sirius summoned a copy of Witch Weekly that someone had left in the common room.

“You never told me you can read, Sirius!” Remus mumbled.

“Oh yes, I know all the letters. You see, I had to learn them since my parents wouldn’t read The Tales of Beedle the Bard to me.”

There was a pause filled with stifled laughter. “You just had to go there…”

“I had to,” Sirius smiled down at Remus, then opened the magazine. “Here we go: ‘How to Bewitch that special Wizard this Yuletide’!”

“Oh dear…”

“Yule Season is a mystical time of the year, blah blah blah… Hm… Okay... Offer him a mince pie with Amortentia (or a cheaper alternative) infused filling or slip a couple of drops in his egg-nog if--”

“Are you serious?” Remus sat up to peek at the magazine.

“Yes. And you’re Remus,” Sirius answered, unable to stop himself, causing the other boy to smile involuntarily and shake his head.

“That should be illegal.”

“Okay, let’s move on. Ah! Those of you who have older living relatives, ask your grandmother or your great auntie to teach you some fun, old-fashioned tricks. Once having reached an unprecedented peak of popularity in the 1900s, the Entrancing Enchantments are making a comeback. Just don’t forget to make sure the spell doesn’t wear off halfway through your date--”

“Unbelievable!”

“Alright, this is clearly not working. If only I had a copy of A History of Magic…” Sirius threw the magazine onto an armchair. “Or something you couldn’t argue with…”

“Oh, I could easily argue with A History of Magic. Don’t even get me started on The Werewolf Code of Conduct of 1637!”

“Right. I forget how much of a huge swot you are… How about I...talk about something in French, so you actually can’t argue with it?”

Silence followed the suggestion as Remus stared at him with a kind of bemusement etched in his face. Sirius felt the strongest urge to either look away from Moony’s impossibly green eyes or to kiss him. Instead, he cleared his throat. “I mean, I don’t have to…”

“No, no, that sounds nice. I forget you speak French…” Remus looked away and lied down on his side again; this time, the top of his head was no more than a couple of inches away from Sirius’ thigh, his hair brushing against it.

“D’accord, très bien. De quoi devrais-je parler?” He gazed down at the side of Moony’s face. “Je ne pense pas du tout que tu es enfantin. Je pense que tu es très fort. Je sais que ça doit être dur, je sais que ça fait mal ... Je t'ai vu passer par la transformation plusieurs fois, et ça me fait aussi mal. Mais tu voilà, si fort et si beau... J'aimerais avoir le cran de le dire en anglais. Je suis tellement attiré par toi. Pourquoi tu ne vois pas ça? Je veux vraiment t'embrasser. Merde...tu entends mon cœur battre? Il vaut peut-être mieux ne pas t'embrasser. Je pense que mon cœur pourrait exploser...”

As it turned out, Sirius found it really easy to come up with things to say. He thought he could have spent the whole night telling Remus things in French that he wished he could have said in English. But he fell silent eventually, when Remus’ breathing slowed and deepened. Sirius got himself another blanket, put his feet up on a red velvet pouffe, and slowly dozed off too; thinking about how glad he was that he could be there for Remus, how nice it was to love.

* * *

“Prongs, can you do me a favour?”

“Always.”

“Can you ask Remus if he likes me?”

“Of course. I doubt he’ll tell me though.”

“How so?”

“He won’t think I’m serious.” There was a pause, the two boys staring squarely at each other. “No pun intended.”

“None taken.” At this, they both burst out laughing.

“You know, you’d think you’d be able to figure this out on your own, seeing as he practically slept in your lap last night.”

“If only…”

“Alright. I’ll try my best, but know this - I don’t like this. I still think, if you’re going to pine and moan about it that much, you need to talk to him yourself.”

“Yes…” Sirius screwed up his face in mock gravitas. “Perhaps I should start yelling ‘go out with me’ at him all throughout the day, in the most random places all around the castle?”

“How dare you!”

It took James a few days to find the right moment to bring it up. With the approaching full moon and end of term, there always seemed to be a hundred little things to do and to worry about. He finally found himself alone with Remus after their Herbology lesson; the boy stayed back to finish pruning his Venomous Tentacula after everyone had gathered their things and left. James hung around to wait for his friend, thinking that he was unlikely to get a better opportunity to have a go at it in the next few weeks. But his luck didn’t end there - just as he was racking his brain, trying to think of what the best way to start the conversation was, Remus opened his mouth.

“Are you still hung up on Evans?”

“Ehm… S’pose you could say that. Why? Did she say anything?” He momentarily forgot that he was on a mission, excitement kindling in his stomach.

“Not to me. I don’t know, I was just wondering.

“Anyway, what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you fancy...anyone?” James was pacing around, mindlessly running his fingers over leaves of plants and dusty pots.

“Well that is neither here, nor there.”

“So it’s a ‘yes’?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“So a ‘no’?” James stopped and smirked at his friend; he was obviously evading the question.

“You really should stop pushing the cotton bud in when you feel resistance, James,” Remus drawled, finally finishing up with the plant and sweeping all the bits of leaves and dirt off the table.

“You have shared your biggest secret with me and you said it yourself - you told me that never for a single second did you ever feel like I started looking at you differently. So why are you so embarassed to tell me who you fancy, mate?”

“A-ha. Trick question,” Remus tapped the side of his nose, carrying a terracotta pot in his other hand. “I never said I fancy anyone at all.”

“So you don’t?”

“I don’t know, maybe that’s my biggest secret?”

“Fine. What if I told you that I know that someone fancies you?”

“I would gasp dramatically and wait for the punchline.”

“How do people think I’m an insufferable smartass?” James frowned, pouting a little.

“Don’t you have somewhere else to ask stupid questions?”

“Nah, I’m free until after lunch,” James pulled his mouth in a smug smirk.

“Perfect. It’s almost lunchtime,” Remus grabbed his bag and walked past James, tapping him on the back with a big grin. “You coming?” He glanced around at the door leading out of the greenhouse.

When James came back to the Gryffindor tower after the Quidditch practice that evening, he beckoned Sirius on his way up the stairs to their dormitory. This was the first time they could get some privacy since James had spoken to Remus, and he was eager to put a stop to Sirius unrelenting questioning as soon as possible.

“You can stop pestering me. I asked him.”

“And?” Sirius leaned towards him, his whole body eager with anticipation.

“I couldn’t figure it out,” James shrugged, pulling his shoes off.

“What do you mean? What did he say?”

“Not much at all, now that I think about it… I reckon he might be hiding something though. He didn’t give me a straight answer.”

Sirius fell backwards onto his bead, draping his wrist over his forehead and sighing dramatically. “I wonder if Evans knows something. He’s always whispering and giggling with her. Although, on second thought, I haven’t seen them together in a little bit… Hm.”

“You don’t think…” James spoke quietly now, a faint frown distorting his face. “You don’t think he likes Lily?”

“Well shit. I hope not. Ah, you’re jealous!” Sirius sat up, goggling at James gleefully once he noticed his friend’s sour expression.

“No, I’m not.”

“Maybe you should try going out with someone else. Maybe she’d even find it in herself to feel jealous then?”

“But I don’t want to go out with anyone else! I like Lily!” James explained a tad too shrilly than he meant to and Sirius wasted no time in mimicking him and making himself chuckle.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh at your misery…” He wiped his eye with a single finger. “It’s just that desperation looks hilarious on you--”

“Fuck you, Pads,” James mumbled as a mischievious smile returned to his face. “Do you think Moony likes me? Do you think he’ll want to get married? Do you think he’ll notice if I steal his clothes and sniff them at night?” Now it was his turn to tease his friend with accompanying gestures of clutching his face and fanning himself.

“It was one time! I put his T-shirt on once, by accident!” Sirius bellowed pointing a comically threatening finger at James. “I’ve seen you pick up single red hairs off furniture and rugs in the common room!”

At this, James gasped dramatically and pulled his wand out. “Don’t you dare drag sweet, beautiful Lily into this!”

“Or what, Potter?” Sirius drew his own wand out of the pocket of his jeans and flashed a devilish grin.

“Levicorpus!” James yelled at the same time as the dormitory door flung open and Remus walked in.

Everyone froze - James, with his wand held high, pointing at Sirius who now hung upside down, letting his arms dangle and his shirt bunch up around his shoulders and neck, and Remus, still in the doorway, eyeing his friends with palpable curiosity mixed with relish. The latter then became animated again, looking down at Sirius’ face as he strode over to his bedside table to grab a bottle of ink.

“Sirius, if I were you, I’d use this distraction to your advantage,” he uttered on his way out and before James could do anything, he felt himself being dragged through the air and turned upside down, his ankles held by invisible forces; both him and Sirius howling with laughter.

* * *

Remus was ready to dart out of the classroom as soon as the bell rang, but the moment he stood up, he realised both of his shoelaces had gotten untied. He bent over, mumbling to himself in mild confusion. A moment later he stood back up to find the room empty, but for the teacher. He was pleased to see that Lily wasn’t lingering around, trying to talk to him this time, but his vague smile faded when he walked out into the hallway - there she was, leaning against the wall, obviously waiting for him.

“Oh, it’s you,” he blurted and kept walking.

“What’s the matter with you?”

He didn’t bother offering a better answer than a small shrug of his shoulders. However, before he reached the end of the empty corridor, his legs zipped together out of the blue, making him topple over and hit his shoulder against the wall.

“Ouch!”

“If you won’t talk to me voluntarily then you leave me no choice.” Lily walked up to him, her wand still clutched in her hand.

Remus couldn’t help but be impressed with her for a brief moment, for she always seemed so sweet and innocent and absolutely not the type to jinx people in the hallways. Then he scowled at her. “Leg Locking Spell? Very mature.”

“Why have you been avoiding me?” Lily demanded, folding her arms over her chest.

“I haven’t.”

“Do I really look that stupid?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?”

“I thought we were friends? Did I do anything to you?”

“Hm, let me think…” Remus finally managed to regain his balance and push himself off the wall. He rapped his fingers against his chin in mock contemplation, but in all honesty, he didn’t know how to express his frustration without sounding over-dramatic and desperate. “If we’re friends, then how come you told Price to go chat Sirius up?”

Whatever the sensible way to bring it up was, this wasn’t it, he knew immediately. But at least, he could tell, Lily knew exactly what he was talking about. Her lips parted, her eyes full of surprise, but then her auburn eyebrows dipped low in a frown.

“First of all, if you must know, Marlene is not interested in Black in the least bit,” she shot him a stern look that Remus’ own mother would have been jealous of, he was sure. “She’s into girls.”

“What…” Remus gaped at her as if he had just been Confunded. “What are you talking about?”

“I would have explained to you what I’m talking about ages ago but seeing as you refused to so much as look at me for weeks, that hasn’t been exactly easy.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well… I had some suspicions and I reckoned, if I did a little test to confirm that Sirius really wasn’t interested in someone else coming onto him very strongly…”

“What?”

“I’ve heard things… And I wondered, too... And that day when you were at the hospital wing, before you both realised that I was there…” Lily continued to utter disconnected phrases as though she couldn’t see Remus’ confused face right in front of her. “But even before that… I started paying more attention and I started seeing all these little things… And I wanted to see for myself... Sirius really cares for you a lot, have you noticed?”

“Er… We’re friends, we’ve been friends for a little while, I would hope that he cares.” Remus couldn’t deny having noticed how attentive and accommodating Sirius had been acting but, surely, that was nothing out of the ordinary when you had been friends with someone for years.

“He couldn’t keep his eyes off you at the surprise party, the whole night.”

“Uh-huh…” Remus squinted at her now, wondering whether Lily was trying to play a prank on him or if someone had actually Confunded her.

“Well, he played dumb when Marlene approached him, he wouldn’t even acknowledge that she was openly flirting with him! And when has Sirius Black turned down a pretty girl asking him out?”

“Well regardless,” Remus rolled his eyes, “poor planning on your behalf, if you will allow me to be so blatant. I know for a fact that Sirius fancies someone. Do you mind?” He motioned at his legs, still glued together, and Lily waved her wand impatiently, freeing him.

“How so?” She looked as though she’d just been smacked across the face.

“I heard him talking about it to James and Peter. He even told me himself when I asked.”

“Who is then?!” She demanded, her voice going up.

“Dunno.”

“But… I really thought he fancied you…”

Remus couldn’t stop himself from emitting a bitter laugh. “Me? Where'd’you get that from?”

“Well,” Lily started slowly. “There’s rumours going around about how Sirius downright rejected three or four people that asked him out this year. Four or five, if you count Marlene… So now some people think that he must have his eye on someone specific. And, well, I thought - since he hasn’t been seen with anyone - it must be someone that he’s reluctant to make a move on...because maybe that someone is an old friend…” She trailed off, looking embarrassed now.

Remus stared at her blankly as his brain worked to process what she had just said. “Sorry, what?”

“Well… Don’t you agree that that would make sense?”

“I would, but then we’d both be wrong. This theory of yours makes Divination seem like an exact science.”

The thought of someone seriously considering this to be a plausible scenario took Remus by such surprise that he didn’t know how to react to it. It sounded as though Lily was getting carried away with it all, perhaps not considering his feelings too much. What made it worse was that there was this prickling, nagging thought in the back of his mind sometimes; a thought that maybe Sirius suspected that Remus fancied him and found it humorous. That maybe, whenever he did or said something unexpectedly flirtatious, it was meant to poke fun at him. Like that night a little while ago, when Sirius had called him ‘my love’ so casually, like a perfectly delivered punchline to a joke.

And Remus felt secretly gratified to see Lily’s abashed face. If she’d come to him with her ludicrous plan first, he’d have made her swear she wasn’t going to actually do anything. He wasn’t exactly delighted at the idea of playing these absurd games with Sirius. And, on top of that, getting someone else involved in the whole thing. But he still felt a little twinge of affection in his chest - after all, Lily seemed to have acted this way out of kindness and with good intentions.

“I thought if I…” She muttered. “I suppose I can sort of see now how this was a er, flawed plan of action…”

“Forget it. It’s fine, you interfering trout,” Remus mumbled, allowing a warm smile to stretch across his lips and Lily matched it with a significantly more guilty looking one. “I’m flattered - by the looks of it, you seem to really have believed this laughable idea of yours.”

“Honestly! I simply don’t understand why you’re so adamant that you’re categorically unlovable. You’re funny and kind and smart and attractive - yes, I said what I said - and yet, you cling to this persona of a weird outcast of a monster.”

Remus stared down at her with an amused expression; if she knew what he was, she would understand how comically accurate the last part of her statement was. “You’re only saying that because you feel bad now.” He tugged at her arm and started walking down the hallway; they were going to be late for Care of Magical Creatures.

“Oh, you’re impossible!”

“You know what, James will be overjoyed when I tell him you jinxed me.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“You’re not that different from that delinquent Potter boy after all,” Remus smirked sideways.

“This was different and you know it!”

“Different goals, perhaps. Same means of reaching them…” As they rounded the corner, Lily’s protesting squeals and Remus’ hearty laughter echoed off the stone walls.

#wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #lily evans #marauders #hogwarts #fanfic

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dawnrider · 4 years

Text

Since most of the votes were for the Modern AU, I bring to you, the spicy part so far of a college AU I’ve been writing off and on for a long time. I promise there’s more plot and emotional development before this... but I’m guessing y’all don’t care about that right now. XD Had to split it into 2 parts since it was long.

1 | 2 |

Spitfire:

I'm not sure what woke me, exactly, but I was suddenly wide awake. Judging by the darkness, it was the middle of the night. My hands shifted restlessly under my pillow for a moment before I realized that I could feel someone watching me. Not the best feeling to wake up to in the middle of the night in your apartment alone... A soft noise, maybe a rustle of clothing, drew my attention and I nearly screamed. Standing near the window, the moon not quite reaching him, was Yash.

I had never seen him look so intimidating before. While nothing about him was outwardly antagonistic or aggressive, he loomed over me in a way he'd never done. “Yash?” I whispered. “What are you doing here?” I pulled the blanket in my hands closer, somehow feeling like it was protecting me from him. Despite the fact that he was hanging back in the shadows, I could easily see that it was him. No one else filled a room the way he did. No one made me fight a constant quiver in my knees the way he did. I wasn't even standing and I could feel my patellas twitching. He still hadn't responded to my question and it was making me even more nervous than I was already. How the hell had he gotten into my apartment? "Yash?" I tried again.

"I... had to see you," he murmured. There was a growling tone to his voice I was unfamiliar with. Was he sick? He stepped into the light from the window and I felt my head tilt in confusion of its own volition. He looked different somehow. The phrase “animal attraction” quickly came to mind and I found myself lowering the blanket and slipping from the bed. The wood floor was chilly under my toes, sending a shiver up through the soles of my feet. But as he drew closer, I realized the chill wasn't causing the shiver at all.

His eyes, usually a pale brown, absolutely glowed golden in the moonlight. His hair, which I had always considered blond was clearly a platinum silver. Most startling was the way his eye teeth seemed longer than was normal... or even slightly abnormal for a human being. I mean, mine were a little lengthy. I had repeatedly discovered this the hard way when I used to bite the inside of my lip in the same place consistently. Yash's were nearly deadly looking. He seemed to be breathing through his mouth deliberately and I couldn't tell why until he took a deep breath through his nose and winced. "Geez, do I smell bad?" I half-joked in a weak whisper. He barely reacted at first, closing his eyes. I didn't have time to react myself when he suddenly grabbed my arms, pulling me against his chest. "Are you alright?" I questioned him, when I really felt the question should have been going the other direction.

"I have never smelled something so delicious in my entire life." I froze at his words. Was he serious? Was he seriously playing some kind of prank on me? The whole sneaking into my apartment in the dead of night thing, the looming in the darkness and barely speaking, looking at me like he wanted to devour me... Was this supposed to be some sort of Halloween, vampire, scare the crap out of Kagome thing? If it was, it wasn't funny anymore.

"That's sweet, I suppose. You still haven't told me what you're doing here... in my room... in the middle of the night.

"Don't you feel it?" I gave him a blank look. "I'm drawn to you, Kagome. I know you're drawn to me." I couldn't deny that and he seemed to know what I wasn't saying. "You're it," he growled. I flinched and I heard what sounded like a whimper in response. "Don't be afraid of me, Kagome. I would never hurt you."

"I-I know that," I whispered uncertainly. I did know it, but I wasn't sure why he felt like he needed to tell me that. The reason came in the form of a rough kiss I most definitely hadn't expected. Despite the way I had felt about him for several years, never in a million years did I think he would ever return my feelings. But again, maybe he didn't and this was some strange prank. The way he was kissing me certainly didn't imply that he was joking. His lips were firm and insistent, urging me into kissing him back with equal enthusiasm. When his kiss changed from a firm but relatively chaste one to fierce and open-mouthed, I followed right along without a thought. His tongue traced mine carefully at first, then with more confidence when I didn't pull away.

I found myself reciprocating until I brushed one of those deadly looking incisors with my tongue and felt a sting of pain. So not just "deadly looking," actually dangerous. Yash flinched himself, clearly stunned by the taste of my blood in his mouth. It took him several moments to pull away, his tongue tracing his own teeth and then his lips. He seemed more focused than before, his eyes really taking me in. “Kagome? Shit, I'm sorry,” he growled, stepping back and switching on the floor lamp I had next to the armchair in the corner. The light made him look normal again, the same Yash I had known for years. I stood frozen, watching him, as he went to my bed, pulling the blanket I had been gripping earlier up and around my shoulders. “I shouldn't be here,” he told me. I started to protest but stopped when he spoke again. “But I can't leave now. I... I need to explain.”

“I should think so. How the hell did you get into my apartment?” I asked again. He looked sheepish before pointing to the window. I raised an eyebrow. “I live on the third floor Yash,” I said in a tone that attempted to remind him I was expecting a truthful explanation.

“It's a brick building. These help,” he muttered, slowly presenting me with fingers clad in blunt but very tough looking nails. Looking from his hands to his face, I frowned, taking one hand in my own to study it. The tips were not sharp, but certainly could do damage if applied properly. I'd always admired how strong his hands looked. Hands that could fix things, solve problems, protect things. The nails were real. It took me several moments to realize that they in fact grew like any normal fingernail, just thicker and tougher. I looked into his face again and saw the nervousness in his eyes. Why was he afraid of me? He was the one with the claws. As I stared, the way I had seen him in the moonlight seemed to become clearer, the way I usually saw him fading as I distinguished the features I normally didn't notice. The fangs were back and his eyes looked more like molten gold than light brown. Why had it never occurred to me that his eye color wasn't really normal? His hair, almost platinum blonde in my previous opinion, was clearly silver. The last thing I noticed was the pair of animal ears twitching in agitation on top of his head. I felt the stretch of shock on my face.

Yash's fingers gently curled around my wrist as my hands went numb and almost dropped from where they had been holding his. “Yash...” I whispered, completely baffled.

“Don't be afraid, Kagome. I won't hurt you,” he repeated. He seemed so sure that I was going to be afraid of him, that I was going to start screaming at any moment. Alright, maybe letting out a little scream had entered my mind for a moment, but it wasn't there now. I felt the shock slowly wear off to be replaced with faint wonder. “You needed to know the truth,” he murmured, stepping closer. His steps were light and as non-threatening as he could manage.

“Shippo too?” I whispered. A tiny smile quirked the corner of his mouth.

“Not exactly. He's... He's a full-blood. A fox.” I frowned for a moment before tilting my head in confusion. “Youkai. The English word Demon doesn't quite fit, but it's the best translation.” Nodding slowly, I started to sit, squeaking when Yash caught my elbows. He steered me back a few more feet so I actually landed on the bed. He knelt in front of me, staring up into my face plaintively. “My mother was human, my father an inuyoukai. A dog demon. My given name is Inuyasha.”

I fought the quirk of a smile. Not completely unfamiliar with my parents' native language, I guessed the translation of his name. “Dog forest spirit? A bit literal.” A tiny hopeful smile twitched his lips. “Then how is...”

“I saved Shippo from a couple of weather youkai a long time ago. He was too young to protect himself and they had just killed his father. Runt's been following me around ever since.” The fact that he had taken my best friend under his protection made me smile, my heart warming even more to him. My head was spinning a little but his warm hands on my arm and knee kept me grounded somehow.

“Why... why share this with me?” I wondered aloud.

His eyes dropped a moment before looking back at me with the quiet determination of a man with a goal in mind. “I know you think I've never paid you much attention, that I didn't notice you.” I froze, my eyes widening in embarrassment. “I've always been very aware of you. I noticed you even before you became friends with Shippo.” Trying not to panic, I held my breath. “Kagome, you don't have to be afraid. Your interest has always been welcome,” he whispered, leaning closer and toying with the blanket that draped across my arm. Was he reading my mind? “I wanted Shippo to become friends with you to make sure you were safe and... You seemed so alone then.” His voice had remained a soft comforting murmur, almost hypnotic in its tone. “Then you were all he could talk about, the best friend he could ask for.”

He was referring to when I'd first arrived at school. I hadn't known anyone, my family lived nearly five hundred miles away and my roommate at the time was an antisocial, angry girl who eventually tried to kill an ex-boyfriend at home over a school vacation. Needless to say I hadn't been upset she didn't come back to school after Fall Break. Shippo had bumped into me shortly before Thanksgiving, a surprising and welcome friendly face. He was a little younger than me, but he'd been accelerated through school since he was so brilliant.

“The letters and emails from you when you were in Brazil... They weren't for Ship, were they?” I asked suddenly, putting things together. There was no reason Shippo would have needed to hear from his older brother so often and certainly not for him to have read every single one to me unless they were for me to hear what was going on. He gave a small sheepish smirk, but nodded to affirm my assumption. “Why didn't you... approach me?”

His eyes glowed faintly in the bright light of the nearly full moon and I saw some strange emotion in them. “I'm not a risk-taker.” I knew he didn't mean that he wasn't a thrill seeker. The man had bungee jumped, sky dived, base jumped, cave dived and swam with sharks. He wasn't afraid of anything. Except me apparently. “Shippo never told you about my ex, did he?” he said quietly. No he hadn't and I was a little afraid to hear it now. I shook my head and bit my lip. I had assumed he'd dated a lot. He was intelligent and extremely good looking and I'd seen at least a few girls throw themselves in his path in hopes of getting his attention. “It was a long time ago. Long story short, we met at a time when things were really rough between humans and youkai. There were a lot more youkai then than there are now, at least out in the open.” Stretching up to his full height, I felt my awe of him return for a brief moment. He was tall, broad and almost otherworldly in his appearance. I found that my feelings for him hadn't changed at all.

He looked to me for permission before sitting next to me on the bed. I curled my legs under me, tucking the blanket more tightly around my shoulders. “Go on.”

~~~~~~

“Holy types, priestesses and monks, tended to destroy first, ask questions later. Which, considering the way youkai were then, was a completely fair way to handle themselves.” Her eyes widened slightly at my easy acceptance of such brutality. “More than once I almost got my ass fried until I learned the hard way that getting purified didn't mean I was dust like a normal youkai.”

“You become human...” I nodded, a grim smile on my mouth, pleased that Kagome was so quick to understand. “But your...”

“Youki. My youkai blood...” I supplied.

“Youki then. It comes back obviously.” Again I nodded. “Well that's lucky.”

My face must have displayed open shock at her easy words. “Lucky?” I choked out, staring for a few moments. “I... I guess I never thought of it that way.”

Kagome let out a small laugh. “Why not? A full-blooded youkai would be purified and die whereas you can survive a purification attack. That's pretty neat.”

“Neat?” My head tilted in surprise at the word. That definitely wouldn't have been the description I would have chosen. What I would like to choose in that moment was to kiss Kagome again. The soft, playful smile on her lips made me hunger to capture them with my own all over again. Of course, I knew I wanted a lot more than just a kiss. I wanted a lot more than just a moment too. “Kagome,” I purred, tugging her against me and pressing my lips to hers. She accepted my kiss without complaint, her soft mouth moving against mine in a way that left no room for doubt that she wanted me too. It was almost more than my beast could handle, forcing me to pull away to calm myself. I had been explaining something to her, something important. Damn if I could remember what it was.

“You were telling me about mikos and youkai,” she reminded me gently, her voice reflecting her slightly aroused state. It was a continuous struggle, but I managed not to go in for another kiss.

“Right. The first time I was purified, it was a miko named Kikyo.”

“Wait, Kikyo of Shikon no Tama fame?” I jumped. Kagome knew of her? Obviously the stories were written in history books but I had never anticipated that Kagome would remember those stories. I nodded. “Wow. I mean... wow! You're the half demon they talk about. My family comes from the Sunset Shrine in Tokyo, the same Shinto shrine that was built to replace the one from the warring states period.” She chuckled softly. “Small world.”

Having read the stories enough times myself to know them by heart, I knew what they said about me. What I was curious to know was what Kagome's interpretation was. “Pretty conniving and diabolical.”

Kagome scoffed. “I don't know which stories you've been reading, but the way my grandfather has always told it, Kikyo lost her life and the love of her life the day the jewel disappeared.” I couldn't miss the moment her face changed as she realized more completely that the person she was talking about was right in front of her. “I'm sorry, I...” I shook my head.

“It was, obviously, a very long time ago.”

“More than five hundred years a long time ago.” Her mouth twisted in a motion that told me she wanted to ask something. “The hanyou in the story... he was pinned to a tree in the forest forever. Obviously you disappeared and they just had to end the story.”

If only that were the truth. “No, I was pinned for almost five hundred years.” Kagome's mouth dropped open. I smiled a little. “I didn't know what woke me until a few years ago. I was in the woods somewhere, woods surrounded by buildings that were so obviously not of my time.”

Kagome's face became sympathetic. “That must have been very disconcerting.”

“More than a little. I stayed in those woods as long as I could stand and then started prowling the city at night, listening to what I could, watching humans live their lives. Eventually I knew I would have to find a way to blend in.” I shook my head. “An old man found me in the woods that very night. He was obviously as surprised to find me there as I was to see him. But not for the reason I expected. He said he had never expected me to wake up and that his family had been guarding the land around where I was imprisoned for hundreds of years.” I looked Kagome over. “He told me that he knew of a miko who could help me hide my features, and brought me to her to learn the illusion you normally see.”

“He... he was never frightened of you?”

I laughed. “No, which confused me more than anything. I asked him why he wasn't.” I took a deep breath. “He told me that he knew that my life had been stolen from me by a trick and he smiled at me strangely. 'I believe your new life was born only two months ago. Wait for her, she will find you.' It was the oddest thing anyone had ever said to me, and I didn't understand what he meant until a few years ago.” Nothing I could do or say would make the next part of my story less weird or creepy sounding, so I plunged on. “He helped me get acclimated in the city before leaving me on my own in the forest. He never told me his name, or how he knew what had happened, but I had a feeling I would see him again eventually.”

“When did you find Shippo?”

“A couple years later. I guess it would have been... 1987? I ventured into the woods a lot to clear my head. I would go further out from the city to find quiet and one day I found the Thunder Brothers, as they liked to call themselves, about to kill a fox youkai kit. He was only... three or four.”

Kagome gaped at me. “Shippo is only a few years older than me? When you were talking about finding him, I thought for sure he was... Wow. So them accelerating him through school isn't completely off.”

“He's just puny, so it's easier to explain him as younger than he really is.” Kagome pushed my arm playfully. “He'll hit his next growth spurt soon and then there'll be no living with him.”

Kagome mused over what I had told her so far. “So you learned all about the modern world in a few years, put yourself through school and what? How did you end up here?”

That's where it got creepy. “The man who helped me told me that the city was taking my forest and making it a public park, so I couldn't live there anymore. His family was moving, he said, across the ocean. His son had died and his daughter-in-law had gotten a job offer in California to teach Japanese to high school kids.”

“Huh, my mom teaches Japanese at the University of...” Kagome's face widened again in shock as she slowly turned to face me more fully. “My grandfather helped you. He knew that you were there the whole time.” I could only nod. “What year did you wake up, Inuyasha?” she whispered. “What month?”

“September of 1985.”

Kagome simply blinked at me for a long moment. “That's... that's when I was born.”

“I know.”

TBC

@lemonlushff , @fantastiqueparfait , @heavenin--hell, @clearwillow , @mamabearcat , @thunderpo , @keichanz , @meggz0rz , @disgruntledbeast , @sarah-writes-stories , @zelink-inukag , @cammysansstuff , @mcornilliac , @redflamesofpassion , @superpixie42 , @underwater0phelia , @cstorm86 , @noviceotakus-blog , @lavendertwilight89 , @hinezumi , @wenchster , @hnnwnchstr , @lady-dark-69 , @itzatakahashi , @juliatheanimelover7 , @kazeinori , @theinuyashareader , @inupotter , @eternalnight8806-3 , @smmahamazing , @willowandfog , @gaysonthefloor , @sistasecbhere , @jennybean91 , @alerialblu, @laurenintheskyy

#Dawnrider Fanfiction #InuKag-Week #Desire #Modern AU #Spitfire #Stay Tuned

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