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#he told me to live a long and happy life so i can meet him but i dont know how long i can hold on
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went to my first con in 4 years on Friday to meet Kaiji Tang and got a Dazai autograph + video recording of him reading to me. He was the sweetest person (as I knew he would be) and interacting with him was lovely, but also at the same time oh boy it sure was an extremely stressful, ugly wake-up call of what it feels like to live in a world now where everyone around you has blissfully moved on from covid and can enjoy things normally and happily, while you'll forever be trapped in a hellscape of perpetual fear 🫠🫠🫠
#like. to be clear this was the first time i've been literally anywhere but doctor's appointments in 4 years#not just because of the pandemic but because of mental and physical exhaustion#so it was a Big Mistake to go from 0 to 100 and not ease myself into it at all#but at the same time........ it was a fucking hellscape of people. i don't think any kind of buildup could have prepared me for it at all.#it was so much less crowded in 2020 (ironically the very last place i ever went; literally on the BRINK of covid)#and now idk what it's become. a monster con. it was unbelievable.#but i was only there for less than an hour but i was so so so terrified that i very nearly left before even seeing him#i couldn't even fully enjoy meeting him as kind as he was because i was so anxious and distracted#and when i got back to the car i just fucking cried.........#the last five days i've just been sitting in fear waiting to feel Any sort of symptoms#i wore two masks and again was barely there for long but Still#and everyone around me was so chill as if everything was normal and No One was wearing a mask :))))) it's not fucking fair man :)))))#insert the 'they don't know' meme; they don't know how much covid can destroy your body even if you get a 'mild' case#i would never want to be that ignorant even if i wasn't disabled and didn't have reason to worry (but everyone has reason to worry!!!)#but also. ignorance is bliss and it just really fucking sucks man.#it really fucking sucks. why do they get to be happy and enjoying life and not /me?/#why can't i do just ONE thing for myself without having it tainted by anxiety and fear that i'm going to die horribly???#while they get to do fucking EVERYTHING???#if they all just wore masks we could all enjoy ourselves much more comfortably than some of us are now#but no that's too much to ask from people 🙃🙃🙃#shit sucks man. the world sucks. something that should be a happy memory for me was simultaneously the most awful experience#and i don't know how to feel about it now that it's over#he knew that i was afraid and at the end he told me that he hoped to see me again at another event someday#and that made me cry because it felt like dazai telling me to live. and i want to. but i don't know how to when the world is like this now.#i desperately want to be able to see him again someday but right now after how terrifying that was i never want to go to a con ever again..#i wanted to ask him things about the manga and about dazai but i was being rushed and stressed so i couldn't ugh#(and doing that is hard enough anyway cause disability and i have to talk with my phone bahhhh)#at least i was able to give him my note *sigh*
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moon-rivr · 13 days
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congratulations
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i bet on losing dogs (part two) series masterlist
pairing: college miguel o’hara x fem reader
contents: one year age gap, angst (?), smut, unprotected sex, doggy, and mentions of masturbation (m) pls lmk if i missed anything 🥸
synopsis: after going through a toxic cycle with his ex girlfriend, miguel learns that maybe he does deserve some type of love in his life.
author’s note: DADDY’S HOMEEE 🗣️ anyways so i sorta based this off mac miller’s song ‘congratulations.’ i hope y’all aren’t tired of me posting angst 😪 (i haven’t forgotten ab the poll btw 😭)
word count: 6.3k
The sun don't shine when I'm alone
Miguel was stuck in a cycle of getting together with Dana, spending a couple months of bliss by going on dates with her and exchanging sweet gestures to having a messy breakup over something completely minute. It was toxic, he could admit that much to himself. But he didn't wish to stop it. If his own mother couldn't provide him with love as a child, why should he expect for someone else to love him?
He was an anomaly.
Or at least, that's what he's been led to believe for most of his life. A being that was incapable of being loved properly, of being the odd one out in every situation he was in. From being the tallest one in every single room he stepped in (often having to crouch his head) to being the black sheep of his family.
He stayed with Dana as a method to prove to himself that he was worthy of loved by someone, even if it wasn't expressed in the healthiest of ways. But even he was starting to get at his ending point. "No, I told you about a week ago that robotics was starting back up again and that I'd be busy with the meetings," Miguel explained for what seemed to be the thousandth time this week. Think about the good moments.
"So are those meetings more important than spending time with me now?" Dana's voice was starting to get annoying to his ears, the tiny whine in her voice starting to irritate him. He was sure she was putting up that pout that she thought got him weak at the knees every time he saw it. Really, he only ended up relenting to whatever she said so he couldn't have to see that awful expression on her face for much longer.
"No, they're not. But just try to understand that I have different interests outside of this relationship. We can go out this weekend if you want to do that," he was running out of options to keep her happy. It seemed like the more that he wanted for this relationship to work, the more that she kept slipping away from his fingers. "It's just.. I don't know if I want to be in a relationship where my needs aren't being seen."
She'd be back within the week. Maybe even less if she got up to that point of loneliness. She'd come back over to him with an apologetic smile on her face, expressing how she was willing to forgive him for his past transgression. "It's okay, I know you get busy sometimes but as long as you're willing to change, I want to give this another shot," she'd whisper in his ear, the two making up in an empty janitorial closet. An exchange of empty promises slipping from Dana easily forgotten with the heat of the moment.
He came back home from a robotics meeting that had run late, a small sigh escaping his lips as he stepped inside. There was no one to welcome him as he stepped in through the door, no one to ask him how his day had gone at school today. "How'd your day go?" he asked out loud, pretending that it was his mother's voice instead of his own echoing through the living room. "It was good, thanks for asking," he felt like a fool for talking to himself, rolling his eyes as he set down his bag on the couch.
Or at least, he'd thought he was alone. He heard two voices coming from the basement, his brother's and someone else's. He made his way downstairs, his eyes widening slightly upon the sight. The spaceship model that he'd spent every available second of last week building was now crumbled by a basketball. Gabriel's eyebrows shot up to his hairline, moving closer to Miguel as you stood in the corner.
"Look, we're sorry. The game got out of hand," Gabriel started off but he released that all his attempts to apologize would be futile upon seeing the glare Miguel was shooting in his general direction. "So if you knew, why'd you come downstairs to come play?" Miguel answered back quickly, seeming to have his comebacks ready at any moment. Part of you started to feel guilty, needing to take some kind of responsibility for this as well.
"Hey, it's not his fault. I'm the one who suggested that we play down here," you could sense the tension from a mile away, deciding to ease the situation a bit. Even if that meant you had to take the fall for Gabriel's mistake. You could see the gratitude in Gabriel's expression upon seeing you walk over to them. "So? That doesn't change the fact that my project's still in shambles."
And almost as if on cue, one of the pieces that was barely hanging on fell to the ground with a dramatic thud. You could see the vein on Miguel's forehead get closer and closer to popping the more he looked at the remnants of what was otherwise, a perfect model rocket. The only reason the two of you had even come down here in the first place was because Gabriel wanted to show you the design that his brother was working on.
You'd expressed some interest in wanting to join the stem club at school, but you eventually decided against it after seeing that it was majorly ran by guys. Guys that had a reputation for being overwhelmingly misogynistic. You decided it'd be better not to join and just wait until next year, if you even wanted a chance of getting your ideas being heard out.
Most of them didn't even bother to listen to you outside of school so you didn't delude yourself into thinking that being in a club would magically change that. As much as you really wanted to join.
So you settled for observing from the outside, walking into the robotics classroom when it was deserted to look through the different parts modeled and the different things that were presented. And occasionally, Gabriel would let you sneak a peek at what the club president, Miguel, was up to.
"I can help you with the project if you want," you suggested, hoping that it would detonate the situation. The two brothers had been on thin ice since Miguel managed to get with Dana, leaving you to comfort Gabriel as he cried about the loss of his girlfriend. Miguel's face relaxed instantly, his gaze flickering over to you instead. "I'll do it myself. You'd probably just end up messing it up," his tone came out cold, dismissing the two of you out of the basement.
The tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to slice with a blade. You stepped away from the table where the model rocket had once been set up, choosing to go stand by Gabriel instead. You would've figured that was the last of the discussion but you heard Gabriel mumbling underneath his breath as he headed out. Miguel's ears instantly perked up, his teeth gritting against one another. "You have something you wanna say to me?"
Miguel had practically given Gabriel a loaded weapon now. The two of you collectively knew that Gabriel wasn't one to keep his mouth shut. But maybe Miguel just wanted to keep the argument going? You weren't completely sure how this family dynamic worked at all. "Pinche amargado," Gabriel spoke up, a scoff escaping from Miguel's lips. (fucking bitter)
"Amargado porque tu no puedes dejar mis putas cosas en paz." (bitter because you can’t leave my stuff alone)
"Igualito a ti, cabron. Tu con Dana y yo con tus cosas." (just like you. you with dana and i with your stuff)
"Vete a la puta v-"
Their voices rose with each retort that they gave one another, the two almost at a brink of yelling at each other. You looked around to try to create a diversion, opting to just flicker the lights on to see if they'd calm down. You didn't have much hope in your strategy but Miguel fell silent after the lights had been turned off. Two pairs of eyes were directed towards you when you turned the lights back on, both expressing some form of disdain.
"Look, it was my fault for ruining your project so allow me to take some kind of responsibility and help you rebuild it. It's not going to be done on time tomorrow if you do it all by yourself," you spoke up after they both had a couple seconds to calm down, reluctance visible all over Miguel's face. Though, he seemed to be actually considering the possibility now. His brows furrowed as he stayed quiet for a couple seconds, eventually huffing out what sounded like a 'fine.'
"Just call me when you're done here," Gabriel relented as he walked over to the basement door, paying once last glance to you over his shoulder. You nodded to his words, looking back over at Miguel. He was already hunched over his desk, starting to take out the pieces of the rocket that had been affected. Maybe you'd get lucky and he wouldn't continue with his angry rant?
I see your eyes look through my soul
The two of you worked in silence for the most part, a couple mutters escaping from Miguel as he worked on taping the pieces back in their correct order. "Irresponsables," he muttered to himself, gluing one of the small pieces together. He wasn't too keen on having you around, his body turned away from you as he worked. But yet, you also had some kind of urge to help him out after you'd aided in the destruction of his project.
"How'd you get into aerospace?" You decided to break the ice and ask a question, looking up from the piece that you were assembling back together. His expression seemed to lose the original intensity that it once held, his body relaxing in the rolling chair he was in. "I didn't. I pursued robotics at first and then there was this competition to build rockets. I started to learn about them, about the different space missions from the past and eventually my interest grew from there."
You nodded along to his answer, going back to working on the piece you were reconstructing. His gaze travelled over to where you were working, a bit surprised by how well you were doing. He'd expected for you to make an even bigger mess of the situation and excuse it with 'just trying to help.' "Are you into aerospace as well?" You hadn't expected for him to actually engage in the conversation but it was a question that you liked getting asked about. While most of the conversation revolves around aerospace, you couldn't deny that he was fun to talk to.
"If you like it that much, you should join. A couple members apart from myself are graduating this year and a couple chairs are going to open," he noted, handing you a wrench to tighten a bolt. You tightened the bolt, grabbing one of the nuts that scattered through the floor when the wing fell off. "I'll think about it," you told him, though your voice held no conviction towards it. He wouldn't push the topic further but he could see just how excited you were to be working on the project.
So much that you didn't even demand to be credited as one of his partners for the project.
Much as he hated to admit to himself, he found that it was quite nice to spend some time with you. Especially when it came to do something that he enjoyed doing. It was a sharp contrast from his time with Dana, going from having surface level conversations about each other's day. Maybe a relationship shouldn't have to involve so much work? Maybe every conversation didn't have to end in a fight after all.
Instead of trying to fix things over with Dana by following her like a lost puppy, he decided to fix things up with Gabriel. Because a part of him secretly wanted to see you again. The modified rocket ship had gotten a couple compliments from the other members, some of them even claiming that it could go to nationals. He wasn't completely sure if they were sucking up to him for a recommendation, but he knew that you'd appreciate the feedback.
So, he decided he'd stop being so strict with Gabriel and lend his stuff over whenever he asked. To which he got a couple of surprised looks and hesitation at first. The next step in the process was for him to work out an apology. But how does one exactly go about apologizing for stealing a partner? Especially when said person had brought up concerns to feeling inferior in every shape and form to himself? He'd dug himself into a hole he had no idea how to get out of.
Miguel awkwardly stood in front of Gabriel's room as he heard the thud of a couple tools inside, his younger brother being more into mechanics than robotics. He decided to swallow the last bit of pride that he had, stepping inside the threshold. He could sense the surprise seeping out of Gabriel as he sat down next to him, grabbing one of the screwdrivers. The two worked in silence for a while, working in perfect synchrony as they focused on building an engine.
"I'm sorry for what happened with Dana, by the way. I know it's not worth much but I am. I shouldn't have taken your trust for granted and I shouldn't have done that considering how you feel about me," Miguel spoke up after they were getting close to finishing, looking over at Gabriel. He saw a frustrated expression all over his brother's face, something that he wasn't particularly used to seeing. "You know, you keep saying what you shouldn't have done but the fact remains that you still did it. But thank you for that apology, I guess."
Miguel started offering to take the both of you to places, choosing to tag along just to hear your laugh whenever Gabriel would make a joke. Even if he wanted to be the one telling you these jokes. "Hey, what do you call a Drosophila who likes to drink?" he decided to break the silence as he drove you two to the movie theater, looking over at you through their rear view window. "What do you call it?" You decided to indulge in his 'joke,' if his attempt could even classify as that. "A bar fly."
You let out a laugh more so out of how bad it was, your eyes crinkling as you did. The look on Gabriel's face made the laughter escape from your lips much louder. "Can't believe you're actually laughing at those bad jokes," Gabriel muttered, staring at you like you were a creature from outer space. "Shut up before I leave you on the side of the freeway," Miguel called out from the front seat, biting back a smile of his own upon seeing that he'd managed to make you laugh. Maybe it was worth it looking for those corny science jokes last night.
Miguel had quickly forgotten about the void he was trying to fill with Dana, only reminded of it when he saw her leaning against his car. Her glossy lips were wrapped around a lollipop, her brown hair combed back into a bob. All he could think about was all the dirt she was probably getting on his car now. "You haven't answered any of my calls," Dana whined as he approached, getting off his car to go over to him. "For good reason," Miguel grumbled, opening his car door to toss his backpack inside. He could see Dana trying to scramble for some kind of logical answer, a slew of curses thrown his away once she realized what'd he meant.
The cycle was done. They were done this time, for good.
"How come you're not out at those graduation parties and stuff?" Gabriel mused as he took a bite out his burger. "You think he's type of person to get invited to parties?" You decided to tease Miguel a bit, taking some of his fries before dipping them into ranch. No he wasn't. Not that he'd ever admit that to you though. "The scent of weed just irks my nose, man," Miguel responded, a small scoff coming from the younger brother in response.
Empty cans of beer and articles of clothing washed up to the surface of the bay, the sight making you grimace in disgust. But this was where Miguel had decided he wanted to go after graduation. "I'm gonna head to the car, it smells like ass out here," Gabriel told the both of you, tossing the final rock he had in his hand out into the water before walking off.  To be fair, it really did smell like ass. The contamination from the water and the ships around mixed in together, overall just providing an unpleasant scent.
"I'm gonna head back too," you told Miguel, starting to get up from your spot. Before you had the chance to dust yourself off properly, Miguel had stood up and placed a hand on your shoulder. "Just wait a second, please. There's something that I have to ask you," he seemed fidgety, looking everywhere else but you as he talked. You stayed silent, giving him the chance to speak whenever he was comfortable enough to. "Do you want to go out on a date with me?"
He was starting to prepare himself for the upcoming rejection, making a mental list of all the songs he'd add to his breakup playlist later on. He'd probably end up blasting those at full volume in the basement while taking out his anger on a model robot, bracing himself to ignore the yells from Gabriel coming up the stairs. "Yes," the words didn't register in his mind at first, his eyes drifting over to your mouth as he made out the syllables.
Wait, what?
"You're actually being serious?" he had to ask. Had to double check that this wasn't a prank or something that Gabriel had set you up to as some kind of revenge for what he did with Dana. Then again, Gabriel hadn't exactly mentioned anything about you towards him. Not that they talked a lot nowadays, but he figured that Gabriel would've at least expressed some kind of concern if he knew. So.. there was really only one possibility left.
You actually wanted to go out with him.
The time that the two of you spent together that summer was much more than the time you actually spent apart, from going out to exploring different museums to different science conventions. Your main concern had been how Gabriel would take it, not wanting to overstep your boundaries as his best friend. "Be careful, okay?" was all that he said when he saw you walking out of Miguel's room with a borrowed shirt on. Gabriel was more concerned about you than Miguel throughout this exchange.
The transition to when the school year started was difficult, given that the two of you had somewhat conflicting schedules. Despite all this, Miguel was sure to schedule a minimum of two dates for each month. Miguel was determined to put the effort into making this relationship work now that he managed to get with you. He'd make sure to pull all nighters the day before he had a date with you to get his assignments done on time, wanting nothing more but dedicate the time designated to you fully.
You didn't know who else to call when college decisions went out, choosing instead to call Miguel. You knew he'd been swamped with lectures and research essays as of late, but you didn't want to share this moment with anyone else. Not when he was the one to calm you down with each mini panic attack you got after hitting the 'submit' button on your applications. "Hola princesa, what's up?" his voice drawled out like the sweetest honey, your breathing slowly starting to calm down.
"Hey, I hope I'm not bothering you too much but I was wondering if you could come over. College decisions came out and I can't get myself to click through the messages alone," you told him, your leg bouncing as you awaited for an answer. "I'll be right over. I'll bring some burritos," he answered, the line clicking to an end shortly after. You waited with anticipation for the doorbell to ring, practically jumping off your bed when you did hear it thirty minutes later.
"Just open it, I'm sure they accepted you. They'd be dumb not to," he sat down next to you as you scrolled to the last one you had left to open. The one you'd saved as an attempt to keep your hopes up from being too high. You had four acceptances, two from out of state and two in Nueva York. "I can't. What if I just have my hopes up?" you had your face hidden behind your hands, your words coming out muffled. "Even if they did reject you, it's not the end of the world. Just look for yourself."
UC Berkeley had been more of a reach school for you, the other four being your safety nets. Your grades hadn't exactly been up to perfection but you held out the hope that the extracurriculars you got involved with and the volunteer service you did was enough. As well as the robotics credential that Miguel encouraged to go after. You let out a sigh, trying to calm yourself down before clicking on the letter. The words blurred together as you read through it, a bunch of gibberish registering in your brain. Miguel had his hand on your thigh, gently rubbing small circles on it.
The touch was slowly bringing you back to earth, your breathing starting to calm down. You didn't have to say anything, he just knew what you needed before you even had the chance to realize that you even needed it. You directed your attention back to the monitor upon calming down, reading over the letter. "I got in!" you exclaimed as you look over at Miguel, his hands immediately wrapped around you. "I told you so. They'd be stupid not to have you in their school."
They'd even offered you a scholarship! The only downside was that it was in California.
The thought hadn't even registered in your head when you were applying for a spot, the only thought in your head being that of fulfilling what you wanted. You looked over at him, the same look of realization upon him as he saw 'Berkeley, CA' almost taunting him through the screen. The idea of doing long distance wasn't something you were quite fond of, given the fact that it just seemed like a slow way to prolong the fact that the end of the relationship. And yet, you didn't really want to break up with him.
"Would you stay in Nueva York if I asked you to?" Miguel knew he was being selfish by asking this, he knew that he had to let you go and pursue what you wanted to do. But he didn't want to. He wanted you to stick by his side and pursue your dream here. "I would stay if you did. But I think a part of me would also end up resenting you for asking that of me," you responded, your hand tightening its grip slightly around him. It was a gesture meant to comfort him but your words carried more weight than that simple squeeze did.
He knew how much you wanted to go, he'd been there when you filled out the application. From the process of setting your information in the system to reassuring you that you were qualified enough to get in, despite how much his heart ached at the thought of having to be without you. "It was just a hypothetical. I wouldn't ask you to do that for me," he quickly told you, taking a bite from his burrito to busy himself with doing something. Your happiness was much more of a priority than his own.
You were inclined on just leaving without saying goodbye but the thought of him thinking you abandoned him was almost too much for you to handle. You ran over to his house after you'd finished packing, hoping that he hadn't gone back to campus yet. "He's upstairs," Gabriel told you upon taking note of your sweat covered forehead, his nose scrunching up. "Thanks!" you called out as you made your way inside, almost tripping your two feet when you rushed up the stairs.
Baby, you were everything I ever wanted
"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Miguel asked you, his lips barely grazing above your earlobe. Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt his lips move down to your neck, his lips parting as he kissed the side. "Yeah, I'm sure," you responded after you managed to regain your composure, your head lolling back to give him more access to your neck. He took that invitation eagerly, his lips pressed on every inch of your neck that he could access.
His teeth sunk down just hard enough to leave a mark on your skin, his way of making sure that you'd remember him. At least for the following week that the hickey lasted. He'd settle for that much. The night never progressed from a couple heated kisses exchanged between the two of you, a wanton need keeping your bodies pressed against one another. For a moment, it was as if nothing else in the world really mattered. You were just two people, not college students that would inevitably have to talk about what their future would be.
"I don't think I could ever just be friends with you. It's better if we just end things here," Miguel spoke up in the middle of the movie the two of you were watching, a boring scene from a movie about how robots took over the world. As if you weren't living through that now in the year 2079.
"Yeah, I guess so. Thank you for the time together," The breakup had been amicable, easy. There were no harsh feelings between the two of you, only simple understanding that the relationship wouldn't work out if the two of you dragged this on. However, as friendly as it had been, that didn't stop you from shedding a couple tears when you got home to finish packing. You almost wished he had given you a reason to hate him so that it would replace the sense of yearning you felt at the notion of leaving him behind.
That was supposed to be the end. You'd go on about your life without having to be around Miguel again, Without feeling his beefy arms wrap around you in the mornings as an attempt to keep you in bed for a little longer, or having his lips pressed against your forehead whenever you needed a bit of reassurance. That was until you found yourself in his bed when you came back to Nueva York to celebrate Gabriel’s birthday. It was the only time you allowed yourself to come back.
How Miguel allowed himself to fall into another cycle, he wasn't sure. Maybe because this one wasn't beaming with red flags. Or maybe because this one didn't leave him feeling like an unlovable mess the next day. Despite how many times he told himself that he wouldn't repeat what he'd done with Dana, he still found himself picking you up from every trip at the airport. Then again, this wasn't anything like the situation with Dana. Your relationship with him was healthy, you were good for him.
You'd usually end up at Miguel's apartment rather than your hotel room for most of the nights. The pent up frustration that had accumulated throughout the past year was unleashed on another, the sex all just that much more intense. "Couldn't stop thinking about seeing you again," he whispered against your skin, the words turning you into putty in his grasp. His kisses could follow soon after, his touch almost burning with how much desire he'd pent up. "Oh? And what were you planning on doing when you did see me again?" he would spend all night giving you the answer to that question.
On most occasions, you'd end up with your face buried in a pillow while he fucked you from behind. Your muffled moans would fill up the room, combined with the sound of rustling sheets underneath you as your grip tightened. "I missed you, princesa," he bent down to whisper in your ear, his lips trailing down your shoulder blade. The action in itself was sweet enough, but you couldn't focus on that with the way that his cock was stretching you out. "Missed you too," you barely managed to babble, your voice coming out hoarse.
Your hips rocked back into his, your ass jiggling with every thrust that he made. The grip he had on your hips would tighten, his balls slapping obscenely against your wet cunt. Your walls would clench around his cock, milking him for all the cum that he had in his balls while simultaneously coating his length with every drop of your slick that you could offer. "Fuck, right there!" he could make out a couple words of what you were saying from time to time, but he couldn't help but want to tease you about it. "Yeah, right here?" he mocked, his rhythm never faltering.
You were so drunk off his dick that you didn't realize he was mocking you half the time, simply nodding in response to whatever he told you. "Yeah, right there!" He loved the way your voice rose whenever his finger came down to play with your clit, the way the nub throbbed beneath his fingers for some kind of stimulation. These little breathy moans that you were letting out, the whispers of his name, they'd all remain imprinted in his memory as material whenever he needed some kind of release. That is, until the following year when he would have new material to work off of.
Miguel loved the way you looked whenever you were excited to share something with him or the way your eyes lit up whenever you saw him at the airport waiting for you with a bag from your favorite fast food place. But the way that you looked whenever you unraveled underneath him was something that just simply couldn't be topped. Your legs shook violently as your orgasm approached, your walls tightening all that much more around him before unclenching to coat his cock in your release. His orgasm would follow suit, his cum filling up your cunt up to the brim.
Despite the fact that the two of you were completely able to and sometimes were even encouraged to, the two of you stayed loyal to one another even if this arrangement had no need to. As much as you wanted to try dating someone else, you knew that in the back of your head you'd just try to find Miguel in another person. And that you'd ultimately end up disappointed by the end of the affair. The two of you provided a sense of comfort in one another that wasn't easily replicated by another person. Or at least, you hoped that he felt the same way about you.
And as much as he tried, he couldn't get his hand to simulate the same pleasure that he felt while fucking you. It felt like a cheap replacement if he was being completely honest. His fist couldn't clench around his cock the way that your walls did, pulsing as your cunt milked him for all it could. His spit couldn't compare to the way your slick coated his shaft completely, the loud squelch that bounced off his walls whenever he pulled out. As pathetic as he felt for being looking forward to your yearly appearance, nothing could give him the same satisfaction you did.
You came back to Nueva York with a mission this time around. The office that you'd been working at after getting your degree had expanded throughout most of the east coast, a shiny job opportunity appearing right at your doorstep. You were going to tell Miguel that you planned on staying this time around, that you wanted to rekindle the old feelings you'd both been trying to suppress. You'd even resorted to practicing what you were going to say to him while you were on the airplane instead of clicking on one of the stupid Hallmark movies available on the flight.
Bought a wedding ring, it's in my pocket
You'd practically been bubbling with anticipation for the entire plane ride, different thoughts of how Miguel would react rummaging through your mind. Would he be excited? Would he leave the party to be with you? You felt all the breath leave your lungs as you stepped inside the party hall, your attention immediately going to Miguel. He wasn't wearing something too fancy, a white button down shirt and a pair of black slacks. Even then, you couldn't lie to yourself that he looked like sex on legs.
You set down the small gift bag you'd brought over for Gabriel, a new set of tools you heard him mention he needed on a FaceTime call last week. You made your way over to Miguel, a small smile appearing on your face as a look of recognition flashed across his features. "Hey," you greeted him once you were close, your hand up in a wave. Before he got the chance to say something, a woman came over to the two of you and handed him a drink before remaining by his side.
"Are you one of Miguel's friends from around here?" you asked the woman, given the fact that you hadn't heard any mention of her from Gabriel.
"Uh, no. This is actually my fiancée, Tempest," Miguel spoke up for the first time this night, your eyes widening as you did a double take on the pair standing in front of you. They'd even color coordinated their outfits tonight.
You could've sworn your heart dropped to your chest at the word fiancée. You forced your face to remain neutral despite the conflicting emotions rummaging inside of you. Your gaze flickered over to the woman, her ring finger accentuated with a pretty silver band, an expensive-looking diamond plastered right in the middle of it. Your throat constricted the longer that you stared at the ring, the sight eventually blurring into nothing until you forced yourself to look away when she pulled her hand back.
Your mind began to swarm with different thoughts, wondering when exactly did Miguel find the time to get engaged. Last year when you saw him, he hadn't even mentioned having any sort of commitment towards anyone. It was funny, thinking about it now. He'd taken you to the airport, his head tilting down to give you a small kiss on the cheek as he bid you goodbye. "I'll see you next year," he told you before you went through airport security. Now you wish you would've went back to his apartment instead of back home.
"Nice to meet you," you forced the words to roll out of your mouth, an unnatural smile taking place on your face. The type of smile that had your cheeks hurting from how hard you were forcing it. you shook her hand with just a little too much force before reminding yourself that it wasn't exactly her fault. If anything, this situation had been your fault. your fault for being so used to this comfortability, of the knowledge that he'd always be here waiting for you.
You'd gotten so used to coming to Nueva York to find Miguel at your beck and call that it didn't even cross your mind he would find someone. Someone who prioritized his happiness as much as he prioritized theirs. "Nice to meet you as well, Miggy here's told me a lot about you," she responded with a warm smile, unbeknownst to the internal struggles that rummaged through your head. Miggy? He'd gotten so pissed off when you called him that, but now he was acting casual about it?
"You mentioned that there was something you wanted to talk to me about?" Miguel's voice broke you out of your train of thought, making you realize you'd just been standing there awkwardly for a couple seconds. You looked away, the sight of him too painful to bear. Just the fact that the woman's arm was wrapped around his, the intimacy of the situation reminding you of what you'd never have again.
"Never mind, just forget it. I hope the two of you have a good time at this party. Congratulations once more," despite the fact that you had a million questions regarding the situation, you decided that it would be better not to ask them. At the end of the day, a couple questions wouldn't change the fact that he was still engaged. You forced yourself to remain polite before excusing yourself to go to the drinks table. You really needed to get fucked up right now.
You felt pathetic as you stood alone in the corner of the room, your fingers gripping the glass of beer as if it was your lifeline. All you could do was look out into the people smiling and having fun, a part of you wishing that it would be you instead. You tried your hardest to pretend when Gabriel came around, trying to dance with you, but the ploy fell through as soon as he dragged you to the dance floor. Your eyes met Miguel's for the first time that night, a flash of concern across his features after seeing your attempts to hide your pain.
But maybe, if you would've looked hard enough, you would've been able to see the same sense of longing lingering behind his eyes.
tag list 🫶🏼: @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @lazyjellyfish300 @pxtched @nympholove @ifiwasaguybrickedup @yournextbimbogf @nixinluv02 @lizaistewdelulu @swiftiegirliepop
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greycaelum · 7 months
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"Tired?"
Satoru blinks and tries to rub his eyes. He huffs and walks towards the woman sitting on the bench, her white dress flows with the wind.
"Why are you here? Hmmm? You're not supposed to be down here, Pretty."
This can't be hell. No way you would wind down in hell. Then this must be the gap between death and afterlife.
Were the gods so merciful for them to give pity on him and let you meet him before he passes over?
Soft arms enveloped his tired soul. The caress he has longed for, stroked his hair followed by kisses being littered to his temples.
"Why are you here, Baby? This isn't a place for you."
Satoru opened his eyes and look at your smiling face as you brush his cheeks.
"You're supposed to be up there, Baby. Up with the living. Not here. Not with me." Satoru closed his eyes and curled towards you.
"Why not? I will accompany you even on death and the next life. I'm a clingy person Satoru." You pouted making his heart melt and rub the back of his head.
And after all of this and after all of that happened you're here with him.
"Let's go home Satoru? I can finally take you back home with me. We don't have to rush anymore, Love. We don't have to be constantly chasing life and death." You kissed his closed eyes. "You've worked so hard already, you've done your best and I'm so proud of you, but let's rest Satoru. Can we rest now?"
Satoru looked up to you and rubbed his face into your stomach. You shouldn't be here. He shouldn't be selfish but a part of him is really happy.
He is not alone. Against what he told his students that a sorcerer dies alone. But here you are. With him. It's a bittersweet pill he has to swallow but deep down he feels peace inside him as he stares at you.
"I want a kiss..."
A long smooch pressed to his forehead.
"I want a hug."
You chuckled and hugged him.
"I want to go home..."
"Then we'll go home together. You and me, Satoru. We'll rest for as long as we both need." You kissed his forehead one last time for now and stroked his hair, lulling him to sleep. When he wakes up you know you can do so many things together... limitless.
In this life and the next.
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—Grey
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harryslittlefreakk · 4 months
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the pact
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summary: you and harry made a childhood pact to marry if you were both still single when he reached 30. now that his big birthday is approaching, you find out whether your friendship (and your pact) have stood the test of time
warnings: mostly fluff, some smut :)
wordcount: 6k
a/n: i actually really like this one. it’s not proofread yet as i was so eager to get it up lol. hope you enjoy!
my masterlist can be found here! happy reading 🫶🏼
From the second you’d received the invitation, you were buzzing with a giddy nervousness. It had been years since you’d seen Harry, though Anne and Gemma were always so quick to share what he was up to. You’d followed his career silently for 13 years, still bumping into him every few years when Anne hosted Boxing Day, or he happened to be in town for your family’s annual summer barbecues. In your mind, he was still the cheeky, dimpled little lad you’d hide under the dining room table with, imagining you were explorers of far away lands.
But Harry wasn’t the young boy you’d chased after in your childhood anymore, the teenager you looked out for when you stuck your head over the garden fence to call your sister home. He wasn’t the handsome young man you’d spent countless hours swooning over with your friends in the bakery after school. Harry was a global sensation, the world’s sweetheart. You weren’t sure he’d even recognise you, a forgotten reminder of much simpler days.
Growing up next door to Harry hadn’t come without its challenges. You’d lost your childhood best friend seemingly overnight once One Direction formed, his life suddenly busy with meetings, tours and interviews. Anne still welcomed you with open arms, but her house felt a little too cold for you with his presence haunting the walls, memories etched into every surface of the house. You’d still hang out in his bedroom sometimes, his band posters and drawings left collecting dust in a lifeless room. When girls from school learned of your connection to him, they’d befriend you and treat you like the hottest new thing until you refused to give over any information. He was your Harry, your long-gone games and silly memories something you held close to your heart. It soon seemed easier to let him go altogether, move on to a new chapter, stop waiting for your best friend to appear again.
Still, you were glad to be able to support Gemma on one of her biggest days. She’d become such a regular feature in your household, she felt like family herself. Your parents had been more overjoyed at the news of her impending nuptials than any of yours or your sister’s recent achievements. They loved Gemma like their own, their ‘extra daughter’, as your dad called her. You knew this was as big a moment for them as it was for Anne, having watched Gemma grow from the tiny dark-haired girl your sister had raved about on her first day of school, to a woman about to become a wife.
Standing outside of the venue now, a beautiful old church overlooking the peaceful tides below, yours and Harry’s childhood pact suddenly hit you. You were laying on a blanket in your garden, tops of your heads pressed together as you made out shapes in the clouds above. “I will never get married,” you told Harry. Your parents had had their wedding album out that day, sharing stories with Anne and Robin. You squirmed and grimaced every time they spoke about it, never understanding how any girl would willingly share their life with a boy. “Yuck,” he squeaked from next to you. “Me either. I don’t ever want to live with a stinky girl!” You giggled together, the cool evening breeze washing over you. “Maybe, maybe I might one day though. When I’m really old and lonely.”
“Old like my parents?” you asked him. “Even olderer than that. Like 30.” You gasped, quickly trying to count on your fingers. “That’s really really old. Maybe we can be married when we’re 30.” Harry ran inside when you said this, leaving you chasing after him once again. He grabbed a napkin from the kitchen counter and scribbled on it in felt tip,
‘I ____ will marry Harry when we’re really super old’
“You have to put your name on that line or it’s not real,” Harry told you, handing the blue felt tip to you. You both signed your initials underneath, and proudly went to show your parents. They’d fallen about in laughter when you told them, promising to hold you to your pact. You hadn’t seen the napkin since that day, and you were sure it was long forgotten by everybody, especially Harry. You felt a small twinge in your chest at this, suddenly wishing you were anywhere but here.
“Hey Boo, you okay? Anne wants to get some pictures of us all together before the ceremony,” your dad told you, leading you through the crowd of guests. Boo was the only nickname that had ever stuck for you, starting when you and Harry decided to go as Boo and Sully from Monsters Inc. one Halloween. You’d originally wanted to be Mike, but with your big brown eyes shielded by little bangs and your signature pigtails, everyone persuaded you to be Boo. You’d outgrown almost everything else from childhood, but Boo was stuck with you for life.
“Oh Y/N, you look lovely darling,” Anne cooed as you came into her sight. She pulled you in for a hug, kissing your cheek as she pulled away. You had to admit, you did scrub up well. It was a long time since you’d really made the effort to look properly nice, still caught in the comfort of your pandemic wardrobe of leggings and sweatshirts. The olive-green maxi dress you’d settled on hugged your body in all the right places, a thick band of material draping over your chest and the tops of your arms, showcasing your toned shoulders. You’d always weirdly liked your shoulders and neck, an odd area to be proud of but it was by far your favourite part of your body. Your hair was scraped back in a sleek bun, tiny wisps framing your fresh face. “Gem and Sophia are still inside, they’ll be out in a minute. Gem’s so excited to see you, it’s been so long since we’ve all been together,” Anne gushed, running a hand up the outside of your arm.
She had such a delicate, warm presence, it was no wonder she’d raised two children as incredible as Harry and Gemma. Anne had been an extension of your own mum as you grew up, small traces of her as much as part of you as they were her own kids. She’d talked you through boys and heartbreaks, been there to wave you off to your school prom, one of the proudest faces in the crowd when you graduated university. She’d been stationed on the garden patio alongside your mum at every birthday party, the two women nattering away as they guarded the wine.
Gemma stepped out of the door, pulling you out of your daydream down memory lane. Your jaw went slack when you saw her, she was positively radiant. Her dress was a dainty satin, huge bishop sleeves adorning her arms and a beautiful full skirt, flowing around her petite frame in the gentle seaside breeze. Your mum rushed over to her first, smoothing a loving hand down the front of her skirt. “You look beautiful Gem,” she told her, tears glistening on her bottom eyelashes. Hugs and pleasantries were exchanged throughout the group, shoulders bumping gaily as you moved around. One thing was still missing though - Harry. You knew he’d never miss his sisters wedding, though he was absolutely nowhere to be seen. Just as you were about to ask, you saw him. With a deep brown suit jacket draped across his body, matching slacks hanging loose on his muscular thighs. A white vest hung low on his chest, his inked swallows sitting pretty on tanned skin.
You knew how good he looked these days, of course. Your tiktok had been full of videos of him performing, Anne’s house littered with framed photos. But seeing him in real life lit a fire in your belly. He’d always been pretty, green eyes and curls enough to charm any woman, but now he was hot. A great, big hunk of sexy man. He approached your parents first, laughing as your dad chose to forgo Harry’s outstretched hand, pulling him into a hug instead. “Here’s our not-so-little superstar,” he smiled, ruffling Harry’s messy curls. Harry pressed a kiss into your mums cheek, exchanging a quick but heartfelt hello. His eyes caught on yours as he glanced across the courtyard, your brown eyes still crinkled as you smiled, in exactly the same way they had when you were younger. “Little Boo!” he chuckled, striding towards you. His strong arms wrapped you into a firm cuddle, his musky scent spilling into your pores. “You look incredible,” he whispered into your ear, voice raspy and low. It wasn’t long before Anne was ushering you all into place to take some pictures, cutting yours and Harry’s catch up short. “Come and find me later,” he told you as you beamed for the camera.
With the ceremony long-finished, the party had spilled out of the church hall and onto the grounds outside. You’d danced, mingled and laughed for as long as you could before needing a minute of quiet. Brushing your hand across your mum’s back, you told her you were going for a little walk and would be back soon. You slipped out of the open doors, yanking your heels off in search of some quick relief. You spotted a little wooden bench overlooking the sea, a little way away from the other guests. A great oak tree shielded it from the warm evening sun, providing you just the right amount of peace.
“Thought you were gonna find me,” a voice suddenly came from behind you. You turned around to see Harry approaching your private spot, a sparkling glass in each hand. “Hey,” you smiled. “Just needed a little bit of quiet. Come sit,” you patted the bench beside you. Harry handed you one of the glasses as he sat down, murmuring, “saw you heading over here. Thought I’d bring you a little tipple.” You cheersed, the clinking of glasses cutting through a heavy silence. “How have you been?” he asked you, shifting his body slightly to face you.
“Been good, H. Thank you for asking. Work’s going well, was a bit slow with the pandemic and all but life’s been kind to me recently. I don’t really need to ask you, do I?” you laughed, suddenly shy in his presence. “No, I guess not,” he answered, smiling kindly at you. You settled back into an uncomfortable silence, not really sure how to talk to one another anymore.
“Mum told me you moved to London,” Harry said, seemingly desperate to pierce the awkwardness hanging over you both. “Yeah, I did,” you told him, explaining how Holmes Chapel had started to feel just a little too small, a little too cut off from the rest of the world. “I can understand that,” he told you, chuckling. You ran through the usual questions, telling him about your work as an illustrator, your little flat off of Finchley high road, the couple of girls from school you’d kept in touch with. “I can’t believe you live so close to me,” he gasped. “Mum could never remember what area you lived in, if I’d known you were only down the road we could have reconnected long before now,” Harry told you. You let out an involuntary scoff at this, telling him, “you know where to find me, H. You know your mum has my number, you know where I’ll be every Christmas and birthday. If you really wanted to reconnect it would have happened long before now.” Your words tumbled out, years of one-sided hurt and rejection suddenly pushing to the surface. Harry took a big sip of his drink, placing his hand over yours. “I’ve been shit, I know. Got caught up in everything and barely looked back. Wanted to reach out a long time before now but I couldn’t bring myself,” he told you. “Felt so bad for how I just disappeared and didn’t want to face it.”
You looked at him with sad eyes, searching his face for any sign of insincerity. “I get it, H. I’m really happy for you, I am. You had all your dreams come true, it’s amazing,” you set your glass down beside you and held your other hand over his. “Just feel sad that I lost my best friend overnight.” Your eyes welled up as you spoke, a combination of the free-flowing prosecco, the beautiful ceremony, and facing your hurt with the man who caused it. “Never had a friend who got me like you did,” you chuckled bitterly. Harry pulled his hands from yours and snaked an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side. “I’m sorry, little Boo, I swear.”
The pair of you stayed that way for a while, soaking in each other’s words and the idyllic setting. Just being close to each other for the first time in almost a decade, having said what you both needed to, was bliss. “I thought about you a lot, y’know,” Harry told you suddenly, the words bursting out as if he’d been biting them back for a while. “Yeah?” you asked him, sitting up straighter to look at him again. He nodded, cheeks twinged slightly pink. You weren’t sure if it was the booze or his confession. “All my big moments, always wished you were there.”
“You know I would’ve been if I knew you wanted me to, Harry.”
“I know,” he mumbled, watching his own trainer-clad feet kicking little rocks around. “My mum and dad went to a few of your shows with Anne, watched the Brits and the Grammys every year you were nominated.” You swallowed thickly, before continuing, “I’m really proud of you, we all are.”
Harry turned his head slightly to the sound of music blaring from inside, before asking you, “dance with me?” He extended a hand to help you up, placing his glass down before wrapping an arm around your waist. You stepped together slowly, bodies moving in unison with your head rested softly against his chest. The skies had gotten gradually darker as you’d spoken, closing in around you until only a faint glow seeped out from the open church doors. Harry pushed you out, spinning you around before tugging you back into him. You smacked against his chest with a little ‘umph’, the wind knocked out of you. Your eyes met his, a little dazed, and all you could do was stare.
It felt like a betrayal of your childhood self to find him so attractive now. He was your best friend, your first friend, the only one to ever understand you fully. He’d guided you through your awkward pre-teen stage, the extra years he had on you put to good use when he showed you cool bands and songs to make boys like you. But now, you wanted him to be the boy that liked you. You were so flustered under his gaze, heat tearing through your body. “Let’s head back in,” you told Harry, words shaky. He kept an arm tight around your shoulder, shaking you about as you approached the church. ‘I’ve got my little Boo back’ he laughed in a sing-song tune. You could feel the happiness radiating off his body, knowing without even looking that his toothy grin would be firmly nestled between two deep dimples.
Your parents were sat around a table with Anne, Michal and Gemma still doing the rounds. You could tell they were drunk from a mile away - your dads cheeks stained red with merriment and Anne’s hands gesturing wildly as your mum roared with laughter. You’d missed this. You still went home as often as you could, never missing an opportunity to enjoy time with your loved ones, but before seeing Harry today it always felt different. Gemma, your sister, and Harry had all moved on, never fully present. But being the youngest, you were the one left behind. Harry pulled around two chairs for you both, plopping down between you and his mum. She draped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. “My special boy, where have you been?” she slurred.
“Been catching up,” Harry told her, a blush creeping up his cheeks as she looked between the two of you before winking at him. She was far from subtle before getting wine drunk, so now her entire head moved with her wink. She highlighted it with a loud “wink, wink” in Harry’s direction. “Anne!” you spluttered, choking out a laugh. Your dad reached over to snatch the two empty glasses from in front of you and Harry, promising to fill them to the brim so you could ‘get on their bloody level’.
The evening continued like that, the 5 of you drinking and laughing, reminiscing on your younger days. Your parents and Anne managing to bring up enough embarrassing stories about you both to put you off ever speaking to them again. “I think it’s time we all go to bed,” Harry started, holding his hands up. “Because we’re all fucking PISSED!”, he continued, yelling at the table. You banged on the table in hysterics, eyes screwed up tight as you and Anne fell into each other in laughter. Most of the venue had cleared out by now, guests dropping by your table to congratulate Anne on their way out. You’d barely seen Gemma all night, so content in her little love bubble that she’d spent the majority of the evening alone with Michal, feeding each other cake and slow-dancing.
“Come on, you big lump,” you tugged at your dad’s wrists who in turn pulled at your mum to stand up. Your dad swung his arms around you both, Harry and Anne joining onto the end, and you stumbled towards the exit in a fit of laughter. Harry tried to start a can-can line, kicking one big foot up into the air, but the 5 of you put together had far less coordination than even one sober person, so the idea was quickly abandoned.
The church had a converted barn outside, with rooms purpose-built for immediate family and friends to stay in. You hugged and kissed your goodnights to your parents and Anne, making sure they all got into bed without mischief. Now it was only you and Harry left, buzzed but significantly less drunk than your elders. “Care for one last round?” Harry asked you, slipping a little hip flask out from his blazer pocket. You knew this was a bad idea, a drunken evening alone with the man you’d been lusting after all day. But you certainly wouldn’t make the first move, and you were almost sure he didn’t think of you as anything other than the little girl who used to run around with him.
You followed him into his room, laughing to drown out the alarm bells ringing in your head. Once you saw the empty bed in front of you, you couldn’t help but just flop down on it, suddenly needing to be as comfortable as you could. The room was aged and rustic, but the bed was far more comfortable than it looked. Harry sat against the pillows beside you, long legs stretched out before him as he took a swig from the flask.
For the first time that day, the silence around you was peaceful. Just two old friends enjoying each others presence. Harry watched you as you took the flask from him, grimacing as the liquor went down with a burn. His green eyes were studying every little line on your face, every freckle dotted across your bare shoulders. There was so much new about you, so many little details and marks you’d gained as you grew older, all the little telltale signs of the years he’d missed. What he’d said to you earlier was true, he’d missed you with his whole heart from the second he’d left you behind, spent so many lonely nights wishing he had you by his side. He thought he’d outgrown you, his new-found fame taking precedence over the little girl he’d shared his dreams and aspirations with. But sitting here now with you, he knew you’d grown with him, no matter how far removed your life had become from his. “‘M nearly 30, you know,” he drawled, voice hoarse from the singing and the sting of alcohol in his throat.
“Huh?” you turned to him confused. “I’m 30 next year,” he told you. “Yeah I know, H. What does that have to do with anything?” you laughed, poking at the side of his head. “Means we have to get married next year,” he grinned. You gasped, remembering the pact you’d thought about earlier in the day, “you didn’t forget!” you laughed, sitting up against the soft pillows.
“Can’t do it next year though, two weddings in a year would send our parents insane,” you told him. “‘M finished with my tour now. Got nothing on next year,” Harry shrugged, a familiar cheeky smirk sitting pretty between his dimpled cheeks. You felt something shift in the air as he spoke, and he seemed to feel it too, edging closer to you until his face was only centimetres away from yours. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?” he cooed, one hand coming up to cup your cheek. His touch shot electricity through your core, a tingling sensation starting where his fingers touched you before washing over your whole body. You shook your head lightly, eyes fixed on him. He leaned in at this, his parted lips meeting yours. The beginnings of a moustache tickled your upper lip, his hot breath flowing into your mouth with every lick of his tongue. You shifted your body towards him as the kiss deepened, four legs and the now-crumpled duvet tangling together as you rushed to close the distance between your bodies. Harry licked into your mouth with the passion of a million years of unspoken longing, his movements saying more than he ever could with words. It was the kind of kiss you’d expect from someone who’d loved you for a lifetime, who wanted to love you for a lifetime, your tongues working alongside each other like this was routine, like you’d done it a thousand times before.
“Harry,” you whispered, hands pushing his blazer from his shoulders. He let you pull it off him, then stroked a hand up your thigh as you admired his upper body. One arm was littered in patchwork tattoos, though all you could focus on was his muscles, illuminated beautifully in the evening light. “Let me get you out of this,” he rasped, twisting your shoulders around to access the zip running down the back of your dress. He smoothed his fingers down your waist and to your hips before unzipping you, your body dwarfed by his strong hands. Harry pressed a kiss into the top of your back, then kissed up and down your spine, hungry for a taste of you as he unveiled more of your skin. You stood up to help him pull your dress down, resting one hand on his shoulder to steady yourself as you stepped out of it, leaving it discarded on the floor. “Matches my eyes,” he smiled. His gaze trailed from your toes, up to your knees, to where your panties wrapped around your hips, and higher still. Up your tanned abdomen to your bare breasts where your rosebud nipples sat perky, to your neck, and finally his gaze rested on your eyes. “Y’so beautiful,” he groaned, running a soft touch along the curve of your neck.
Harry pulled his tank top over his head, stepping out of his slacks as they collapsed at his feet. His body was unbelievable. So tanned and toned, firm in all the right places yet soft in the best ones. You could see the outline of his hard shaft through the thin fabric of his boxers, an almost silent moan slipping out as you took in the sight before you.
He stepped closer to you, backing you up until the side of the bed hit the back of your knees, then held a hand to your back to guide you down onto it. His hot, drunken breath washed over you as he climbed on top of you, one hand balancing his body as the other explored you. His fingers groped your breast firmly, mouth finding the opposite nipple, sucking it into his lips in one quick movement. Your back arched off the bed, pleasure so built up that it only took one touch to send you into a frenzy. Harry licked a circle around your areola, chuckling against your skin as you writhed under his touch. “Barely even started yet, little Boo,” he drawled, moving upwards to kiss along your clenched jaw.
His fingers danced down your body, smoothing over your mound as you gasped and groaned. They slipped under the soft material of your panties, blissfully cold against the heat of your entrance. You were already soaked through, much to his surprise, so he swiped a finger through your folds to collect your juices before landing straight on your clit. Harry rubbed you in circles, the friction leaving you a panting mess under him, head jutting out to press open-mouthed kisses on his throat.
He pulled your panties down your thighs tenderly, kissing every inch of skin they passed over. In the dim light of the room, mouth moving up and down your body, he’d never looked so handsome. His cock brushed against you as he moved back up your body to focus again on your folds, your juices spread across your mound in a mess. Two long fingers dived straight in, his rings leaving a harsh chill against your sensitive skin. The stretch of his fingers alone had you panting, a familiar burning starting in your core. Harry found your sweet spot insanely fast, fingers moving in a perfect beckoning motion just as you liked. He navigated your body like you’d done this before, like the muscle memory just guided him to what he knew made you feel good. “I want more, want you inside of me,” you whined, hips bucking towards Harry’s groin as he silenced you with a deep kiss. “Got to get you ready for me first, Boo”, he told you. You winced as he used your nickname, knowing you’d never be able to hear your dad call you that without thinking of this night.
Harry’s mouth found your breast again, sucking deep purple bruises onto the gentle skin as you whimpered beneath him. He smacked at your pussy as your moans got louder, causing your eyes to shoot up to meet his. “Gotta keep the noise down, sweet girl.” You nodded in response, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip to keep yourself as quiet as you could be. The second his tongue found your nipple, you felt your orgasm bubbling up in your core. Harry noticed the way your head lulled back, slipping a third finger inside of you and using his thumb to brush against your clit. It was like the holy trinity of foreplay, his skilled tongue and fingers hitting your three most pleasurable zones at once. Your climax hit quickly, walls tightening around his digits as you clamped your forearm across your mouth, desperately trying not to scream his name. He peppered kisses down your throat as his fingers rode you through your high, only pulling them away when you went limp under him. Harry held his fingers to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick off every trace of your creamy come.
He backed off you to kick his boxers down his legs, stroking his erection as it oozed precum. He found his wallet, pulling out a condom and rolling it down the length of his cock. “How do you want me, sweet girl?” he asked you, cock twitching in his hand. “Wanna go on top,” you told him, suddenly eager to impress. If his cock was anywhere near as good to you as his hands and mouth had been, you couldn’t only have him once. You needed to show him how good your pretty pussy could take him, make him want to come back for more.
Harry rolled onto the centre of the bed, hands guiding your hips down over his groin. His hand cupped the back of your head, pulling you towards him for a sloppy kiss. His mouth tasted of you, the familiar tingle of juices on his tongue. You stroked his member up and down quickly, before lining it up with your entrance and pushing yourself down onto his tip. “Fuck, H. You’re so big,” you whined, thighs burning as you hovered above him. He used his hands to move you up, then down, down, down, helping you to take him fully. The burn was like nothing you’d experienced before, his girthy cock crammed into every corner of your pussy. You stilled for a moment, hands resting against his butterfly tattoo, chest rising and falling quickly as you tried to push past the ache. He held a thumb under your chin, tilting your head to look at him. “You ok, pet?” he asked, needing to be sure before you continued. You nodded, moving one arm to pull his finger into your mouth. You licked circles around his fingertip, sucking it in down to his knuckle before releasing with it a pop.
Harry’s hands guided your hips to grind against him, helping you until you found your rhythm. He pulled them away, one landing with a loud smack on your ass cheek as the other crept up the front of your body, resting at your throat. He squeezed lightly, the sensation only spurring you on to bounce up and down on him, the combination of your juices squelching as your cheeks slapped against his groin. It was the kind of hot, dirty sex you’d only ever dreamed of, and it had you falling apart on top of him. You cried out a strangled moan, expletives falling out of both of your mouths. “Feel so good around me,” Harry groaned, “so fucking wet. S’that all for me?”
“All for you, H. M’all yours,” you whimpered. His hips bucked against you as you told him you were his, fingers pulling away from your supple ass. He spat on them before dancing them back across your asscheek and smoothing the spit around your second hole, eyes fixed on your pussy bouncing on his cock. “Can I?” he asked you. “Please, H.”
He pushed a finger into your tightness, filling you up so well. You felt so full you could burst. His eyes were clouded over with lust, tiny hairs slick to his forehead with sweat. He looked feral, and you loved it. He repositioned his feet to where they were flat against the bed, hips knocking into you as you moved up and down his cock, his thrusts sending him deeper and deeper inside of you. You were both panting now, barely able to contain your highs for a second longer. “Come with me, come with me please,” you begged him, your second orgasm of the night starting to rise through your core. His thrusts got faster and sloppier, obscene sounds echoing around the room, a clear sign of what you were doing to anyone who could hear you right now. Your orgasm crept up on you quickly, thanks to Harry tightening his grip around your neck and pushing his finger further into your tight hole. Your head was thrown back as you came, back arched making his cock feel as though it could burst through your belly button. Harry moaned loudly, hips jutting one last time as he flooded the condom with his come. You collapsed in a sweaty heap, totally unable to hold yourself up any longer.
“Took me so well, angel girl,” Harry drawled as he pulled out of you, padding across the room to toss the condom and rinse his hands. You lay there in total bliss, comfortable in the knowledge that your friendship was long gone.
“Let me go first and you can come after,” you told Harry, holding a finger up to shush him when he started to laugh. “We’re grown adults, Y/N, it doesn’t matter if anyone sees us come out together.”
“I don’t write songs about sex and drugs. My body is still untouched in my parents eyes,” you told him, hand slipping from the doorknob as he pulled you in for another kiss. “Just don’t come until you hear me leaving.”
You crept out of the room as silently as you could, heels and dress bundled under one arm. You’d heard Anne, your parents and Gemma head out to the courtyard already, so there was no danger of being caught by prying eyes - or so you thought. As you were padding across the hallway to your room, Anne appeared round the corner. “I was just coming to see if you were awake,” she told you, eyes sparkling with glee. “No wonder your mum said your bed was untouched.” She knocked on Harry’s door with a tight-lipped smile lighting up her face. He opened the door wide-eyed as Anne pulled him into a firm hug, pressing a sticky lipgloss kiss to his cheek. “I always hoped you two would get together.” She disappeared back down the hall as quickly as she appeared, leaving you and Harry blushing.
You decided to make your way outside together, knowing it wouldn’t be long before your parents put two and two together anyway. Plus, you knew Anne wouldn’t be able to resist telling your mum and Gemma what she saw.
You decided to spend the day on the beach, you and Harry with your parents and Anne, since Gemma and Michal had already left for their honeymoon. It was a perfect summers day, the sun warm enough to enjoy but not hot enough to irritate you, the gentle sea breeze cooling you down as it washed over you. Your mum and Anne were sprawled across a linen blanket, two bottles of wine stood in the sand next to their feet. They called you over, instant dread washing over you as Anne excitedly shouted your name. “Do you have anything to tell us?” she asked you, and you were sure there would be mischief glinting in her eyes under her big sunglasses. They sat up and scooted over on their blanket, leaving space for you to slot in between. “Nothing that I’m sure you don’t already know,” you smirked, a deep blush creeping up your cheeks. Your mum looked between Anne and you, gasping as she swatted at your leg. “So it’s true! You dirty little minx.”
You held your head in your hands, mortified that your parents knew you’d slept with Harry. “Oh relax,” your mum told you. “It’s nothing we haven’t done before,” she smirked, throwing herself towards Anne as they howled in laughter. Anne stopped suddenly, her hand tapping at your mum’s thigh incessantly. “If they get married, we’ll be real family!” she gasped, face pink with joy. “Well, the pact is what got us there in the first place,” Harry told them, sitting down next to you and snaking a hand around your waist.
“I forgot all about that,” your mum’s jaw went slack. “Do you still have it?” she asked Anne. “Of course I do. Kept it safe to show them when they found their way back to each other, always knew this day would come.”
part two
taglist: @sleutherclaw @harrysolaf @slutforcoffein
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moonchild1 · 2 months
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park jimin fic rec list (Ⅲ)
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woah it really has been a long time since i posted but i am so glad to be back and to get back into reading i saw so many of my favourite authors have updated and i am beyond excited to start this journey again but in the mean time here's jimin rec list as promised it was so exciting finishing this list cause i got so nostalgic making it and reading all the old fics i had on my reading list ughhh i just loved it so much and it got me back into the swing of things and i cant wait to make more lists, i do have another jjk list ready and i will post it the day after tomorrow so i hope you enjoy this one and don't forget to show all the love and support in the world to these amazing authors they work so hard to create these fics for us and they deserve endless praise and love for the commitment and generosity they have so please do leave them a comment, heart or reblog a small comment can go a long way here and can make someone smile even bigger so dont don't shy away from making someone happy... as usual you guys know this fics i recommend contain smut so minors don't interact you will be blocked... i really do love hearing from you guys so if you do have a little fic you are super into right now and you just want to rant about how amazing it is feel free to send me an ask 😊🖤
a- angst s- smut f- fluff
series
plot twist by @xpeachesncream f s a
↳ jimin isn’t interested in fake dating, but he’s definitely interested in getting to know someone the right way. after all, he feels like he’s ready to put himself out there and give it all he’s got. so, he takes a risk in trying something completely out of his comfort zone and hops on the new, popular dating app - only to come across and get to know someone he didn’t expect to meet.
a remedy for mondays by @dovechim s
↳ all you wanted was just one day off work. but for that to happen, you need to invent a plausible reason. and then somehow, somewhere along the way, things get out of hand, and now people think you’re having a baby with your co-worker Park Jimin after a one-night stand. confused? join the club.
it’s okay, that’s love by @/dovechim f s a deals with deep subjects
↳ People are constantly making some kind of connection with each other- be it friendship or romance. But human bonds always lead to messy complications; commitment, sharing, driving people to the airport, letting them get up close and personal with the darkest parts of ourselves. And sure- it’s scary as hell to watch them cross those boundaries you’ve so meticulously drawn, but it’s okay, because that’s love.
so it goes by @/dovechim f s
↳ Park Jimin knows a lot about humans. of course he does, he studies them for a living. he knows that they say hello by holding hands, and when they say goodbye, they put their arms around each other. but this particular human, he notes, is unlike the rest- stuck in a slump, going about your day praying for the Universe to stage an intervention in the form of an alien abduction. when he decides to finally fulfil your wishes, he finds that you have a little something to teach him about what it means to live life on Earth the way you do: ugly crying, underwear and all. in return, he shows you the possibilities that abound if you simply adopted their mantra: everything is beautiful, and nothing hurts.
love again by @taestefully-in-luv f s a
↳ A friend of yours is eager to introduce you to her new man but what happens when Park Jimin, the man who broke your heart 5 years ago walks in through the door?
the other woman: the seduction and the illusion by @namjooningelsewhere f s a
↳ No one told you being the other woman would never be easy, No one told you that his love would be two sides to a same coin. No one told you he came to you because you were his escape to his demons. No one told you he would always call you his, but he would never be yours. And most importantly no one told you, He never loved you because you dont destroy the people you love.
FUTURE HEARTS by @jungblue f s a ft. jjk
↳ It was everything, from his tattoos, to his touches, to the way sweat rolled down his neck as he strummed into his guitar on stage; everything about him completely enthralled you. So why are you now, two and a half years later, on a train to Seoul, telling a complete stranger the recollection of how you became fated to forever have scars on all of your future hearts due to the happiness, but most of all the pain, that came along with falling in love with Jeon Jungkook. 
after the applause by @foxymoxynoona
↳ Jimin doesn't know how he would have made it this far after the shattering of his world without the support of his thoughtful, generous, helpful neighbor. Hanbyul has lived next to hottie Jimin and his adorable daughter for years now, long enough to remember the wife he was so devoted to and lost far too young. With each safely ensconced on their side of the brick wall of the Parks' grief, it will take an enterprising little scientist to set the stage for a second chance at love.
saved by @to-star-lake s a
rockstar au deep subjects read warnings
midnight memories by @hobipaint f s a
↳ there's drunk habits, and then there's drunk mistakes. What do you call meeting your friend - no, ‘former friend’ - at a bar, getting drunk with him and sleeping- 'accidentally' - with him? especially when everyone already knows that you stay away from him as much as the day does from night?
Easy. You forget about it.
heartbreak chronicles by @sugaxjpg s
↳ Park Jimin had it all — good grades, a place as the soccer team’s captain and, more than that, the broken hearts of at least half the campus’ population. Though, one thing he did not have was someone willing to break his heart and, after you were dragged inside a miraculous plan to play that part, the last thing counted on was the preposterous idea that, perhaps, you could fall for him as well. 
drifting by@hongcherry f a
↳ After being assigned different partners for your midterm routine, your and Jimin’s relationship starts to deteriorate when you both begin spending more time away from each other and with your assigned partners instead.
growing pains by @taleasnewastime f s a
↳ Growing up the daughter of the boss of a gang is never easy, but normally the problems are around being given too many responsibilities, or the risk of being connected to a gang leader, or wanting to escape but not being able to. But you’ve got a different problem, you want more responsibility, want to be like your brother who’s been named heir, want a role in the family gang. Your whole life you’ve been denied what you want, being born a female seemingly your main issue; perceived as weak, naïve, trying to step above your station. But as unsupportive and dismissive as your family is, there is always the bright light that is Jimin; the boy you love but can never have.
tuqburni by @solastia f s a ft.myg
↳ You’ve spent two years building a life with Yoongi who you loved more than anything in the world. Now, his ex-boyfriend Jimin is back in the picture, and Yoongi begs you not to make him choose between the two of you, offering the choice of a polyamorous relationship. Though your heart is shattered, you agree.
stardust by @venusjeon f a
↳ struck by your beauty, Jimin begs to paint you naked behind the world's back so as not to stain your influential family—his patrons—with scandal.
drift by @snackhobi f s
↳ You used to think that there was nothing better than the sensation of coming first place. However, your rival- the talented, gorgeous, dangerous Park Jimin- is more than happy to prove you wrong.
the deli diaries by @jimlingss f
↳ Working at a grocery store deli is absolutely unbearable (and you’re also perfectly aware of how dramatic you are). But it seems like something, or rather, someone might make the job a bit more manageable.
best of me by @xotoosweet f a
↳ when he tells the story of how he met you in a few years, he'll claim that it was meant to be. you'll laugh and call it a coincidence. it was a coincidence that on the first day of summer semester, he decided to go on a run (though he claimed he always ran in the mornings). it was a coincidence that he chose a less traveled path in the university arboretum that morning. and it was definitely a coincidence that you were there, sitting on the rail of the river bridge.
the ten days of ex-mas by @kpopfanfictrash f s a
↳ Three months following the worst break-up of your life, you finally feel ready to start moving on. The world, it seems, has other ideas when you pick up the phone and find your ex-boyfriend calling.
strip by @yoonia f s a
↳ Summary | Everything you have done has always been about surviving life and raising your child on your own. Having someone else caring about you was the last thing you had expected. Especially when that someone is the same man you have watched performing every night on stage and secretly admired. But will he run the moment he finds out about your little secret waiting at home?
falling by @/yoonia s a
↳ For Park Jimin, you are everything he will ever need—his assistant, his housekeeper, his task runner, his fairy godmother. For you, he is more than everything. You have dedicated your life for him and, before you even realised it, your heart belongs to him alone. The only problem is that he is never yours, and you are living in a world that your love for him is nothing more than a fairytale ending. As you are suddenly given a chance to wake up and face the real world, will you be ready to embrace it? Will he be ready to deal with the world without you in it?
wrapped around by @jjkfire ft. kth f s a
↳ Freshman year was a mess and sophomore year doesn’t seem to be looking too good either. You know boys like them are no good for you but maybe they’re just your kind of type
baby, baby by @hobiwonder f s a
↳ When you’ve run out of savings to continue on to the last semester of your Bachelors - you take an unorthodox route. Helping a desperate couple have a child and getting paid for it? Heck yeah. But what do you know - it wasn’t as easy as it sounds.
love at first touch by bagelswrites (ao3)
↳ The first time you meet your soulmate, it leaves a bruise on both of you at the point of contact. From then on, your body begins rejecting any sustenance other than the touch of your soulmate. The trick is, the bruises take a few hours to appear, so you have to figure out who you've touched and find them before you starve to death. But once you do, all you ever need is them. So what happens if you're an idol and you meet your soulmate at a fan event?
our little family by @nightbts f a
↳ you were living a simple life filled with simple dreams; combining your two most loved things in life, children and teaching, you were starting out your career as a teacher at the local pre-school. but little did you know, how one child and her very special father, would change your simple life into something extraordinary
one-shot 35
brand new eyes by @missgeniality s
↳ Jimin’s eyes had potential to ruin you, and tonight you test the damage.
waves by @shina913 s
↳ It's Valentine's Day and your boyfriend decides to spice things up with a little surprise for you.
failure to communicate by @gukslut s
↳ Enemies to Lovers/ College AU
physical by @ppersonna f s
↳ you cant seem to escape the sexy fitness instructor that seemingly is everywhere you turn. it’s enough to make you irrational.
good for you by @candlewaxandp0lar0ids s
↳ Jimin can’t help the way he drowns himself in you. Why should he anyway?
ho-ho-home by @jjungkookislife s a
↳ Golden neighbor extraordinaire, Park Jimin, is (unintentionally) stealing your spotlight this holiday season. Despite your one sided rivalry with him, all Jimin wants is for you to remember him, to remember your past and hopefully create a future with you.
100km/hour by @chateautae s
↳ what exactly happens when you and your friends have to pile into one car for the ride home after an insane halloween party, and you find yourself sitting in park jimin’s lap? especially when he’s dressed as an angel, and you’re in the sluttiest devil costume ever?
what it's like by @jimilter s
↳ You’ve always heard great tales about how good the infamous fuckboy on campus, Park Jimin, is in bed, and wondered if there could be any truth behind these claims when the guy looks like an angel with his cheruby cheeks and precious smiles. So when a new gossip starts to circulate about how ‘hard he hits’, you have had enough of the suspense and decide to finally sample him yourself.
feel your touch by @/jimilter f s a
↳ You have always known yourself to be a sexual switch in bed, flipping between exercising and submitting control according to different situations and partners. And this camboy you are addicted to, one that seems to kinda reciprocate your interest, submits so beautifully that you just want to command him. But when things progress to levels you never anticipated, you end up discovering pleasant surprises that might just change your life.
the prince’s cinderella syndrome by @/jimilter f s a ft jjk
↳ He shows up at Halloween, every year, dressed the same, and leaves at midnight like some Cinderella. You would think he was a prankster if his eyes didn't look like they contained all the sadness in the world. You don't know him - no one on campus does. You don't know why he appears only once a year. You don't know why he never smiles. But you can't help falling in love with him. Even if he breaks your heart when he abandons you at midnight, again.
scream your panties by @opaljm s a
↳ As your midterms have ended and Halloween has arrived, you are looking forward to a pleasant time relaxing and enjoying the festivities at your sorority and Jimin’s frat houses. Luck is not in your favor, though, because things keep going wrong like a trail of dominoes falling – the only upside to your slowly deteriorating day being that you get to end it with your boyfriend’s delicious self between your legs.
first snow, last kiss by @taeshobipop f s a
↳ He broke your heart four years ago; the old loving memories of your time together now tainted by pure betrayal. Yet in the haze of new snow, after returning home for the first time, the moments you had once convinced yourself were nothing but a lie, reveal themselves to be otherwise.
antifreeze by @winetae s
↳ Jimin participates in the school’s adaption of The Nutcracker for extra credit but doesn’t expect his new dance partner to a) be this bad at dancing and b) be this fucking cute
what she likes by @untaemedqueen f s
idol au husband au marriage au
only you by @personasintro f s a
↳  you’ve been always there for your best friend, even when he became a single dad 
sucker by @/personasintro s a
↳ You wish you'd pay more attention to Jimin. Like, how his eyes kept changing color. How cold his skin was, too unrealistically to be natural. Or one second, he flashed you with his sharp canines and the next one he didn't have any. How much he craved for you, but not the way you thought he was.
please, lie to me by @ressjeon s a
↳ "centuries of loyalty vs. only months of fucking, how could you miscalculate?"
summer synchrony by @seokkgenie f s a
↳ childhood friends to lovers
neon seoul @readyplayerhobi f s a
↳ It the city of New Seoul, another homicide isn’t newsworthy but instead just a statistic. But when the son of the mayor is murdered in an alley in a shady part of the city? Then it’s important. You and your partner, Detective Park Jimin, are given the honour of investigating the crime. Will you find out who killed him? Or will you fail?
serendipity by @btsracket s a ao3
↳ It's serendipitous. Jimin braces for darkness but finds his light instead.
the boyfriend concept by @/kpopfanfictrash s
↳ Win a Date with a Porn Star! You saw the sign when you walked in, of course, but you had no idea your friend dropped your name into the raffle. Fast-forward to later that day, when you actually win. You are horrified, of course, with no intention of accepting and setting yourself up for embarrassment. But then you meet Jimin, and decide this might be worth a shot.
Lovely Demons by @/kpopfanfictrash s a
↳ As penance for a crime committed long, long ago, the Witch Council banished you to the feared Tholoss forest. Your sentence was one hundred thousand days of solitude – or death, whichever came first. Your only hope of salvation comes from the demon names routinely sent your way; creatures who escape the inner circles of Hell and pose a threat to the mortal realms. For each demon you kill, days are removed from your sentence. For years you’ve existed, biding your time, until one morning you receive a name which throws your entire world into chaos: the name of Park Jimin, High Prince of Hell himself.
blue blood by @joonbird s a
↳ “Prince Jimin was born with blue blood. His coronation is rapidly approaching, but there are two requirements he must fulfil before becoming a king. He must have the skills to fight in battle, and he must have a Queen with blood as blue as his. You, a member of the royal guard, are assigned to teach Jimin the ins and outs of combat. You are not scared of death, of blood, or of battle. What you are scared of however, is falling in love with Jimin, the one man your blood decrees you can never have.”
i want to be with you by @oddinary4bts f s a
↳ moving to Seoul has always seemed like a good idea, until the bubble bursts when you realize your new neighbor is Park Jimin, and he's not the sweet angel you've always imagined him to be. Will the reality of Park Jimin forever be a nightmare, or will he turn into a sweet dream?
locked in love by @parkmuse f s a
↳ Getting locked in the mall on Christmas eve isn’t ideal, but getting locked in the mall with your brothers best friend that you haven’t seen in a while? Well, it might have been alright if you didn’t have feelings for him.
peaches and cream by @snackhobi s
↳ you wouldn’t mind your cute neighbour being such a shameless fuckboy if a) the walls weren’t so thin and b) he didn’t seem intent on adding you as another notch in his bedpost. 
reset by @/dovechim s
↳ We are made of the pieces of what we remember, and we hold in ourselves the hopes and fears of those who love us. As long as there are memories to call our own, there can be no true loss. But Park Jimin has no such privilege. 
the dark side of the moon by @/dovechim s
↳ falling in love at first sight is cliche, not until it happens to you on a dark night in a lonely alley. but you’re only human, while Park Jimin is Alpha of his pack; it could never work out. so you resort to pining for him like a wolf howling at the moon, but when Jimin goes feral, that’s when everything changes. 
Unconditionally by @kstopping s a
↳ Jimin constantly torments you. But you love it.
Instinct by @evangelene f a
↳ A lost child appears into your life only to bring you closer Jimin–a man that you’d thought you’d hated once upon a time. Now all you want is to be there for the child, and maybe his father–but only if his mother gets the hell out of the way.
eternal sunlight by @kidguk f s a
↳ “college and soulmate au where the first words your soulmate will say to you are tattooed on your wrist. jimin thinks he met his soulmate exactly four months after he met and fell in love with you. you can’t explain your attraction or your feelings toward him, even though technically you’re meant to be with other people. taehyung and jungkook helpfully suggest that the universe might be glitching.”
foul play by @kimvtae f s a
↳ Everyone loves a good rivalry, and the students at your university are no exception. Unluckily for you, the rivalry of the decade is between yourself and a furiously irritating Park Jimin. A top gymnast and a basketball star shouldn’t cross paths, but Jimin makes his way into your heart before you can put a stop to it.
lost and found by @/kimvtae s a
↳ The only thing bigger than Park Jimin’s ass is his ego. After one too many scandals, after one too many mornings stumbling back to the dorms drunk or ruining the reputations of other idols, Jimin is given an ultimatum: complete a rehabilitation program in America or leave Bangtan.
if we were a movie by @/kimvtae f s a
↳ Friends with benefits never worked in the movies, but you and Jimin had been friends for so long, it was bound to work for you. Until, of course, Jimin gets a girlfriend, and you fear you may lose your friendship with him for good.
the pull of the tides by @goldenscript f s
↳ The expanse of the deep blue sea has always drawn you in. Each ebb and flow of the tides never ceasing to take your breath away. And now, a boy with hair as light as the morning sun and a smile just as bright does too. 
hard to say by @floralseokjin f s a
↳you've had feelings for your best friend Jimin for as long as you can remember, but you always thought they were unreciprocated. What if it turned out they weren’t...?
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↬looking for pjm library or the other members check out my library
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confessedlyfannish · 6 months
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DP x DC Writing Prompt #9
"Are you sure about this?" J'onn asks, reading the discontent amongst the Kents. Clark and Lois each have a hand on their teenage son's shoulders, who several weeks prior was aged ten years old.
"We're sure," Clark says. He is not, nor is his wife. But his son is, who lays his hand on his mother's and squeezes. It is that surety that J'onn honors as he delves into the young (but not as young as he should be) man's mind.
The memories are hard to find but not gone, hidden behind what Jon can only see manifested as a glowing green wall. When he raises a tentative hand, the shield sparks green, but does no harm. Pushing through is like wading through the consistency of jello, which he finds an overall unpleasant experience. But he is unharmed as he passes through.
Before J'onn can sort through the memories he is all but sucked into the one at the forefront, where a Jon most similar in visage to the one recently returned perches on the edge of a building. Beside him lies a burger, partially unwrapped though uneaten, and a small soda.
As the memory builds out a sun sets on a small suburban town, and a muscled thigh knocks into Jon's, an older man with a shock of white hair and eyes the same light and color as the shield formed around these memories appearing. He's tall even sitting, likely about as tall as Superman, and looks to be in his thirties. A full body suit comprised of black and silver accents stretches across broad shoulders, a stylized D on his chest. He knocks his thigh into Jon's again.
"You said I couldn't go back," Jon says quietly.
"I lied," the man says lightly.
"You're lying now," Jon says, glaring at him. "I can hear your heart."
"Nice try, kiddo, I don't have a heart in this form," the man says, reaching a hand out, presumably to ruffle his hair. Jon dodges.
"I know you're lying. You would've told me. You would've helped me get home."
"Jon--"
"You're protecting Clockwork, aren't you?" Jon demands, eyes beginning to burn red. "That old coot decided it wasn't enough to play with you, he had to play with me too."
The man slaps a hand over Jon's eyes. "Breathe, like we practiced," he instructs firmly. Steam rises from where his palm meets Jon's eyes, but if it hurts he shows no indication. "In, 2, 3. Out, 2, 3."
Jon whimpers but heaves a breath, and the burst of red light dies down from between the man's fingers. His hand moves down to Jon's shoulder.
"I can't pretend to understand Clockwork's decisions," the man says, as tears begin to pool in Jon's eyes. "Frankly, I don't want to. I suspect they are hard decisions to make, sometimes."
"I don't get why you defend him," Jon says. "Dumbledore acting bastard."
"Language," the man says, lightly bopping him on the head. J'onn notes the boy actually winces, as if the blow hurts.
"I am upset with him, I hope you know that," the man continues. "But at the end of the day I'm also grateful. Because I got to meet you." He hooks an arm around Jon's shoulders, pulling him in. "And now you'll get to see your family again. And Sally, Arnold, and Damian!"
Jon sniffles, rubbing roughly at his face. He leans into the man's bicep. A trusted adult figure, then. One he's described his life to. A life, J'onn is sad to note, he appears to have lived for the past six years, as opposed to a sudden shift in appearance. Jon's next question all but confirm it: "Can I really go back? It's been so long. They'll be all grown up."
"Hey, of course you can," the man says, rubbing his shoulder. "I'm sure they've missed you so much. They'll be so happy to see you again."
Jon starts to smile. "I'm going home."
"You're going home!" The man laughs, shaking him.
"I can finally eat some decent barbecue again!"
"Hey!" the man protests, "The smoker blew up one time!"
Jon continues, beginning to get excited. "And Ma will make her jalapeño cornbread! I never could get it right, I can't wait for you to try it!"
J'onn notes the older man's smile fading, eyes growing sad.
"And Damian will definitely want to spar and oh, oh! With you on our side we can totally prank Batman! I bet Alfred will even help! And Mom gives the best hugs, Pops comes really close but Mom will be really excited to meet you, everyone will."
"Jon," The man says.
"I knew you'd be worried about it, but they'll want to meet you," Jon says, clocking his expression. "They'll be grateful. You, you helped me. You kept me safe and taught me how to be Superman. They'll love you, I promise."
"Jon, I can't go with you," the man says gently.
"I'm not saying you stay, but you can visit! I'm sure the Justice League can figure out a way to maintain a portal, they're super used to all that multiverse stuff. Once they have the coordinates, you can stop by whenever!"
"I can't go through the portal, Jon," the man says. "To other worlds, I'm a god. And gods can't interfere. The only reason I can continue to live here is because this is the world of my origin."
Jon gapes at him. "But--but,"
"You're going to see your Mom and Dad again," the man says. "And your brother, and grandparents."
"I can come here, then," Jon says desperately, pushing his way out of the man's arms. The man is already shaking his head. "I can!"
"You can't."
"Why, because Clockwork says so? He's a liar!"
"Because multiverse travel is never a good idea. If you got trapped here again--"
"I wouldn't,"
"You belong with your family,"
"You're my family!" Jon cries. The man freezes. "You, and Sam, and Jazz, and Tucker and Val and Ellie and Pops and Mads, you're all my family! I can't just leave you, I won't!"
"Oh kiddo," The man says, eyes wet. "I love you too. We all do."
"So I'll stay," Jon says decisively. "For all we know my world is a wasteland. Gramps wasn't exactly right in the head when I left. It's better to stay here."
J'onn notes a green vine unwinding from a nearby trellis. It slides down the eave towards the pair.
"You don't mean that," the man is saying.
"I'm sixteen. I can make my own decisions. I'm staying."
The man cups Jon's face. "Your parents did not have a choice in losing you. I'm willing to bet they're devastated. Because I'd be devastated, losing a kid as great as you."
"Maybe they're not even there," Jon says, but the words are half-hearted, and it clearly hurts him to say them.
"I know I seem like a pushover, but if I thought Clockwork was sending you back to anything less than your loving family, I'd destroy him first. And he knows that. They're going to be there, I promise."
"I don't want to go," Jon says. Behind him, the vine rises from the eave of its own will, poised like a cobra enchanted by a snark charmer.
"I know," the man says, eyes drifting to the vine. "I'm so sorry, Jon."
"For what?" Jon asks, as the vine attaches itself to the nape of his neck. His eyes roll back as he collapses into the man's arms. The man hugs him tighter than is strictly necessary.
J'onn expects the memory to now end, alongside Jon's consciousness. To his curiosity, it does not.
"For what it's worth," a young woman spits bitterly, vines supporting her weight as she slips over the side of the roof. "I still think this is horrible." Her eyes are red and miserable.
"Seriously, team punching Dumbledore in the face," A young black man says, appearing in the air supported by a woman almost identical in appearance to the man holding Jon, down to the suit colors. They land on the rooftop.
"Are you sure about this," the dark haired woman with powers over plants asks. "Because to be honest, Danny, I'm five seconds away from punching you in the face."
"Jazz won't speak to you for months," the girl, likely his sister, points out.
"Make it a year," the man says, crossing his arms.
The man, Danny, ignores them all. He cards a hand through Jon's hair. "He'll retain the experience, but not the memories?"
"Yes, he'll be a perfect little superhero, just as you taught him," the woman says, vines twisting agitatedly around her, wrapping around her thigh, wrists and neck almost punishingly.
"Sam," the man says. "He needs to go home. All of you know that."
"He doesn't have to forget us to do so!" the sister bursts, eyes flashing green.
"Remembering would be a torment," Danny says. "He'll know he was loved. That's enough."
"Danny," the plant woman says, sitting beside them both. She puts a gentle hand on his, both on Jon's back. "This is just a different torment."
"And if someone finds out?" Danny asks. He has been patient amidst their scorn, but now a tiny edge ekes into his voice. "A god's child, unprotected? Threatened? He would never stop looking for a way back, and being vocal about it could get him killed."
The others are silent.
"He'll be home. He'll be happy," Danny says. More powerful than a prayer. A directive. He raises his head past the child slumbering in his lap, past them all, face hardening, and says to J'onn: "And you will say nothing."
J'onn takes a step back, fear so thick he could choke on it flooding his very being. Thismanwillkillhim, thismanwillkillhim.
This man will reach through dimensions and kill him.
"Now, get the fuck out of my kid's head," Danny snarls. J'onn is pushed back with enough force he enters his own mind in a vicious whirl that leaves him physically on the floor, gasping.
"I'm sorry," he says as Superman rushes to lift him, and he's not sure who he's apologizing to. Green eyes will pierce his dreams. Vines will crush his throat in his nightmares, screaming silence, silence.
You will say nothing.
"I'm sorry," J'onn says, politely pushing Clark's hands away as he rises. He's already beginning to calm, because he understands. Those are consequences he will not face. He will do as directed. He looks at Jon Kent, bewildered but unharmed, clutching his mother's hand.
J'onn reaches down and dusts at his pants. "I'm sorry," he says evenly, ready to spin his tale. Perhaps the Kents will continue to seek their answers. Perhaps not. He will stay out of it either way. He has been warned.
You were loved by gods. And to keep you safe, they would quiet us all.
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tonicandjins · 1 year
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learning languages | lee donghyuck
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pairing: lee donghyuck | nct haechan x reader word count: 18.5k genre: university au, getting together, smut, fluff, angst summary: in which you're an exchange student and donghyuck teaches you the essential korean phrases you need, and eventually how to fall in love with him tag list: @smwhrinthehaze @byungbyungbaek @sundamariis @thiccfullsun @yesohhsehun @haechoshi @najmnluvr @liz-zo @heyitsconysstuff @magicastle @novawon @gaeulswrld author’s note: I’m so sorry it took so long, but here it is! I imagine conversations with everyone in Korean, except for Mark! 😊 I imagine the conversations with Mark in English. I also have 0 knowledge with the Korean language except from the common phrases every Kpop fan knows lol. So please bare with me and feel free to correct me! ^^ Please also consider tipping me if you want to! NCT Dream is coming to my country this April and I’d love to see them if I could :) TIP ME HERE.
날씨가 추워 (nalssiga chuwo) – the weather is cold
The rain is pouring when you arrive in Incheon. 
It’s not as harsh as it is where you come from, but the February breeze still makes you shiver and curse under your breath, and while you’re wallowing and pouting over the fact that your first day in South Korea is not going as well as you wanted, Mark is chirpy—a little too happy for your liking. 
Of course, Mark is happy. Your bitterness over the weather is not going to spoil his energy, the exact same one—maybe stronger—he has had over the past couple of weeks, counting down the days he’d be back in Seoul, finally. Mark has told you that it had been over a decade since he last visited South Korea, and the Student Exchange Program from your university had been the best opportunity for him to come back after so long, too long. The stupid smile on his face somehow makes you feel better, especially when he jumps from his seat when he sees his childhood friend walk towards your area. 
Renjun is handsome like the picture that Mark sent you a week before your flight to South Korea, but it feels a little unfair that he’s even more attractive in person. His voice sounds like honey and the corner of his eyes crinkle when he smiles as he approaches you and Mark. 
They jump into a tight, dramatic hug that makes a few other people in the waiting area look, but the boys don’t care. Mark lifts Renjun up from the ground, it’s almost embarrassing. The sight makes you feel warm. You wonder how Mark feels. 
It must be amazing, you think, to finally meet someone you’ve been longing to see. Mark had always expressed his yearning for the place—the people, the friends he always had to leave behind when visiting during summer—and it makes you wonder how it feels like to have friends and family away from you. 
Evidently, this is your first time to be away from home. You live (or used to at this point) in a dormitory, a two-minute walk to the campus, a good hour away from home, but you always went home whenever you craved for your mother’s dishes. You’ve never considered living away from home. Sure, you had plans to move out eventually, but not in a different time zone, not in an entirely different culture. Mark, on the other hand, is frequently moving around, dragging his suitcase from place to place, leaving people behind and promising he’d come back when he can.
Born in Canada, Mark had been to more places that you could count, but he has told you many times that nowhere else feels like home, like Seoul. He’s told you many stories of the time his family lived there for a few years before going back to Canada, of his annual visits in the summer, and of his devastation when life had caught up with him that he had to stop visiting when he turned eleven. 
You remember his voice, its tone and emotion, when he called you a couple of months ago, informing you of the exchange program that the university’s administration had posted on the students’ corner, and how fucking amazing it would be if you could sign up with him. 
“It would be a good addition to your credentials,” he had told you. “It’s not going to be for a long time, a semester at least. And we have the option to stay the whole academic year if we wanted to! Plus, I already know a lot of people there. We’ll be fine!”
“I don’t know, Mark,” you had answered, feigning hesitation, even when you knew deep down that Mark had already convinced you by the tone of his voice when he revealed the news. “I’ve never been that far away from home. Remember when we went camping in ninth grade? I cried. For three whole days. I’m not going to survive a semester. Besides, I know not a single Korean word.”
“Come on, Y/N,” he had begged. “Think about it. You’ll be with me the entire time. If we pass the screening, the program will sign us up for free Hangul lessons—though, let’s be honest, I don’t really need it.”
“Why do you have to bring me anyway?” you had asked out of curiosity.
“Because I know you’ll love it there,” he had answered. “Your obsession with studying culture and languages will be satisfied because there is no better way to learn a culture than experiencing the whole thing with your best friend!”
You remember humming in response, as if you’re thinking deeply about it. Mark sighed on the other line, his words making you laugh and finally agree. 
“The chances of Mom letting me go is bigger when I tell her you’re coming with me,” he had admitted. Mark, upon hearing your agreement to his proposal, began listing out the places he would take you. The phone call lasted for three more hours and it had seemed like Mark already had an entire plan in his head before he even asked you if you would go with him. 
Passing the program had been easy and so was acquiring your visa. What was truly the pain in the ass, you admit, is learning the damn language. You salute Mark for being able to speak Korean so fluently, but he’s shit at teaching you and you had to rely on the free lessons you had taken every weekend and your favorite language mentor, Lee Minho in Legend of the Blue Sea. Your Korean is awful. Your tongue is a little too short, too stiff, for said language, and the situation almost makes you back out of the entire program and ditch Mark. 
But here you are, still shit at Korean, but standing among hustling people and waiting for your best friend to wrap up the moment he’s sharing with his long-time friend. Renjun finally catches your eyes as you awkwardly watch them on the side, your backpack becoming heavier each second you’re standing on the airport tiles. He pulls away from Mark, smiling, beaming towards you and offers a handshake. 
“Hwang Renjun,” he introduces. You remember their last names go first here. “Nice to meet you.”
It almost startles you when he speaks English. Mark forgot to mention his friend is fluent, you think. 
You tell him your name, voice smaller than it usually is, and express your relief that he speaks English. 
“I’m originally not from here either,” he explains. “I’m Chinese. My family had to move here before I could even properly pronounce words for my Dad’s work. Went to an international school, where I met Mark back in second grade.”
So, he’s cute and multilingual. How unfair.
“And I’d love to chat longer,” he says, switching to Korean now, before you can even respond. “But Hyuck is waiting in his car. We could talk on our way to your dormitory. For now, let’s go. Hyuck hates waiting.”
“Hyuck drove? What happened to your car?” Mark asks, helping you with your luggage and pushing the cart himself. Renjun insists to carry your backpack, and he had already gently pulled it from your shoulder before you could refuse.
Mark and Renjun talk about Hyuck, both switching to speaking Korean now, on their way out of the arrival area and it doesn’t take long for them to spot their friend’s car outside. The rain had stopped pouring by the time you’re settling yourselves inside their friend’s car. The second you settle yourself on the leather seat, you sigh in relief. Traveling is a lot more exhausting than you had initially thought. 
Renjun sits on the passenger seat, right beside Hyuck, you assume, and Mark settles himself beside you.
“Mark Lee,” Hyuck greets, looking at Mark through the rearview mirror. “A pleasure to finally meet you.”
It takes you a second to understand what he said. It’s only then that you realize you really are in Korea. 
“Lee Donghyuck,” Mark responds in the same tone. “You’re real. I’m happy to see you in person and not just through Facetime. I want to hug you.”
“Am I better looking in person?” Hyuck teases. “Hug me when we’re at your dormitory. I’ll even kiss you on the lips if you want to.”
“Disgusting,” Mark grimaces. “By the way—” He turns his attention to you the same time Hyuck begins driving. “This is Y/N.”
Hyuck only smiles, nodding a little to you through the rearview mirror, brushing his brown hair using his fingers to fix it up. Renjun begins to ask how the flight was and Mark replies. All three boys strike up a conversation in Korean and it was all too much, too fast, for you to catch up and understand anything, so you stay quiet on your seat, leaning against the window, and begin to wonder how things will go for the entire spring semester you’ll be spending in this foreign city. 
Mark never told you that the drive from Incheon to Seoul is long, so far that you didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep.  When you arrive at the dormitory, it’s past six in the afternoon and Mark’s friends ask kindly if you want to go out for dinner. Politely and quite incoherently, you tell them that you’d like to stay. Mark insists on staying home with you and unpacking your belongings, but you urge him to go, spend some time with his friends and walk around. Mark hesitates, but agrees nonetheless, promising he will come back in an hour.
The place the program had picked for you and Mark is not that bad. It’s nothing like home, but it’s not bad. It makes you wonder how Mark does it. You remember not being able to sleep on the first few nights on your dormitory’s bed when you were a freshman. Mark had never told you if he’s had trouble adapting to places he’s been. Maybe you could ask him in the morning. 
The exhaustion hits you again upon entering one of the rooms. Room assignment is yet to be decided, but Mark wouldn’t mind if you sleep on one of the beds while he’s out. And so, you sleep. 
You don’t remember what you dream of. And Mark wakes you at seven in the morning, reminding you that you had to unpack and go grocery shopping. Momentarily, you forget where you are. It hits you the same way it does in his friend’s car. You’re in a different country. A different language. A different time zone. 
It doesn’t feel like home at all even though it’s cold. But you guess you’ll have to make it work. At least until the semester ends. 
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약속해요 (yagsoghaeyo) – I promise
When Mark told you he knew a lot of people in Seoul, you should’ve known he was bluffing because he literally knew only seven people.
Mark Lee’s friends are warm and loud and somehow you feel out of place when they all decide to hangout where you and Mark are. It’s the first week of the semester, and you have completed all the orientation and tour you need; Mark, on the other hand, is still catching up with everyone.
By everyone, he meant Kevin Moon, a senior who is also Mark’s cousin’s long-distance boyfriend who happens to be studying in SNU too, Hwang Renjun from Natural Sciences, Lee Donghyuck from Music, Lee Jeno and Na Jaemin from Engineering and Architecture, Zhong Chenle from Humanities, and Park Jisung from Business Administration. Which is why every day, for the past five days, you’re at a place called Arcade, with Mark and two or three people from their group.
It turns out Huang Renjun and Na Jaemin were Mark’s friends from childhood, the others are friends by extension.
Huang Renjun, you understand why Mark is closest to him among all. He’s soft all over but sharp in the mouth. Renjun, you learn, likes to talk about life and likes to give people advice when they need it. He’s reserved with other people but is the complete opposite when he’s with his friends.
Lee Jeno is shy. He normally joins the group after his internship at a construction corporation in the outskirts of Seoul, which is why you haven’t really seen him much—only twice. You haven’t had that many conversations with him yet, but he’s kind enough to pass you the ketchup when he sees you staring at it from the end of the table.
Zhong Chenle and Park Jisung are best friends. There’s not a day that you have not seen either without the other, kind of reminds you of how you and Mark are. They join whenever one is available—two peas in a pod.
Na Jaemin is the closest with Lee Donghyuck. You see them talking in their bubble more frequently than the others. Jaemin is mysterious and a little cold—the complete opposite of Lee Donghyuck.
Lee Donghyuck, well, you’ve got a lot to say about him.
It isn’t necessarily an uncomfortable feeling, because Mark’s friends are kind enough to slow down when they talk to you and are quite protective of you, especially when a random stranger bravely comes up to you to introduce themselves. Lee Donghyuck, in particular, who’s as warm as the sun touching your skin at nine in the morning and whose voice is careful and assuring, ensures that you’re never out of place—even when you feel it all the time. From the day the semester started, there hasn’t been a day when Donghyuck isn’t hanging out with you and Mark at Arcade.
Mark normally picks you up from class because thank God your schedules are aligned to each other despite having different majors. The College of Social Sciences is quiet, unlike the building right beside you, College of Music, and Mark usually takes five minutes to find you, because you can’t trust yourself to walk around on your own—at least not yet. But today, Mark asked if you could meet Kevin first because his girlfriend had something for him from Canada.
“Hyungseo!” You hear someone call, making you look up from your phone to see Kevin walking towards you. He stops and turns around, a girl you’ve seen around the college of social sciences once or twice running towards him.
“Don’t forget to bring the laminated cards we need for Friday!” the lady shouts. Kevin gives her a thumbs up and turns back to you.
“Y/N, right?” he asks in English. You nod. He offers a hand. “I’m sorry we haven’t met personally yet. But I’m Kevin.”
“She called you Hyungseo, though,” you trail off, accepting the handshake anyway. “I’ve seen your pictures from Giselle’s phone, so I knew it was you.”
He laughs. “Hyungseo’s my Korean name. You should’ve packed her with you.”
You reach for your bag and hand him the box that’s been sitting in your backpack all day. “Here,” you say. “No plans on visiting sometime soon?”
Kevin sighs. “I wish I could,” he answers. “It’s not as easy as we thought.”
“You guys sound okay though,” you comment. “I mean, Giselle always sounds so happy when she talks about you back home.”
This makes Kevin smile. “Oh, she does?”
“Why would she think of getting you a gift all the way from home if she’s not?” you ask, biting your tongue as soon as the words come out. “Sorry, I shouldn’t ask.”
“Let’s talk about this over some soju when you find a dude you want to spend the rest of your life with here,” he jokes. “Thanks for bringing this. You and Mark have been so busy; he’s been declining all my invitations to hangout.”
You sigh, “Yeah. It’s only the first week and there are lot of things we had to do. I’ll ask him if we can hang out on the weekend?”
Kevin agrees and hands his phone to you, asking to put your number so he could call you. You do and tell him you’re grateful you could talk to someone in English aside from Mark and bid him goodbye when he leaves. You shoot Mark a text, telling him you’ll be waiting for him and that Kevin’s dropped by to get his gift from Giselle.
Hence, you wait outside, busying yourself with your phone, trying to avoid any interaction as much as you can, and you don’t notice Donghyuck standing beside you until he taps your shoulder and gives you a warm smile.
“Mark is running late,” he says slowly. “Let’s go to Arcade together.”
You smile at Donghyuck’s attempt to pronounce Arcade how you would and nod at him. He leads the way out of the building, his backpack on one shoulder, and asks you how your classes are so far.
“It’s okay,” you answer because it’s all you can think of. “Thank God my professor in Psychology speaks English.”
Donghyuck hums. “It must be difficult for you.”
“It is,” you confess.
Among everyone you have met so far, Donghyuck gives you the feeling of comfort; you’re not exactly the most outgoing person nor the least—you were in between. You were okay with that. And you were okay that Donghyuck is okay with that, too. He doesn’t push you to speak more (probably because he knows you most likely do not know how to say whatever you had in mind), but can be very persuasive when there’s a hint that you’re relaxed.
Lee Donghyuck is bold and charming and amiable like nobody you’ve ever known. Normally, or at least with how you’re used to, people are a little more reserved around people they just met. And culturally speaking, you didn’t expect Donghyuck to be so forward and already so comfortable hanging out with you, what more with having conversations like this.
“Don’t worry, though,” he assures. “You’ll be fine. You’re here for about six months, anyway. I promise it’ll be the best six months of your college years.”
He’s also bright like this—optimistic and kind and assuring. You’re glad Mark is friends with people like him, with Donghyuck.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you try to say, a phrase Mark taught you the other night. “Did I say that right?”
Donghyuck giggles, stopping and reaching up to ruffle your hair. “You’re absolutely adorable.”
“That, I am,” you joke back, more comfortable around him now.
“I promise,” he says. “It’ll be so good; you wouldn’t want to go back to Canada.”
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한국말 잘 못해요 (hangugmal jal moshaeyo) – I don’t speak Korean well | 죽을래 (jug-eullae) – Do you want to die?
Donghyuck turns out to be a better teacher than Lee Minho and Mark Lee combined. He gifts you a small, pocket-friendly notebook, asking you to keep it for the rest of your stay, notably commenting that the material’s size will allow you to bring it everywhere you go. Hence, the tiny, brown faux leather notebook is safely tucked between your necessities inside your bag.
The first sentence he teaches you turns out to be the most essential: I don’t speak Korean well.
Donghyuck takes you to a café called 7 Days, an entirely different vibe compared to Arcade. You don’t question Donghyuck when he puts an arm on your shoulder as you walk together inside the café, but he asks you right away when he must have felt you stiffen from the touch: “Is this okay?”
“Yes,” you answer quietly.
Donghyuck smiles warmly at you. “Here, have a look around and I’ll get you something to drink before we decide what we want to eat. I have the perfect drink for you!”
He goes before you could say anything. You look and realize that the café is not so bad. Its aesthetic is the complete opposite of what Arcade’s going for—cozy, serene, almost like a good place to study or sleep in, whatever you need to survive the day—and the Biscoff latte is bomb, you don’t think you can drink latte differently now.
Conversations with Donghyuck could, well, unfortunately, go only where your limit is. He’s fun and likes to tell a lot of stories, but it’s always interrupted with you asking what a word means and him pulling up his phone and have his translation app say it for you. He makes jokes that you regrettably do not understand, but Donghyuck doesn’t take it to the heart and only says: “By the end of the term, you’ll be saying these jokes to Mark Lee.”
Donghyuck excuses himself to go to the toilet about an hour later and allows you a few minutes by yourself, which you happily spend taking pictures of the interior of the café. You sigh when you realize you didn’t take a picture of the Biscoff latte when it was full and pretty. Someone taps you on the shoulder, and it could only be Donghyuck, so you turn with a smile.
“I forgot to take a picture of the drink—Oh.” It’s not Donghyuck. “I’m sorry, how can I help you?” you ask politely.
The man towers over you and he smiles warmly. Your cheeks flush when he does, because you probably mispronounce each syllable from that sentence. “I’m Sanha.”
You bow courteously, still have 0 idea why the man is talking to you.
“I don’t see you around often,” he says. “And I’m here, like, almost all the time unless I have a class. My dad owns the place. How do you like it so far?”
“It’s… okay,” you say. Sanha chuckles, and your face is hot you probably look like a red potato now. “I mean, not just okay, I just can’t find the words to—”
He takes Donghyuck’s seat. “I can teach you,” he offers. “We can meet up here, and—”
Donghyuck calls your name, voice firm and monotonous like never before. “It’s getting late. Mark texted me to take you home early because Chenle’s making dinner at your place.”
You look at Sanha apologetically, still unable to reply properly so you only say, “I’m sorry.”
Donghyuck doesn’t give you the chance to say anything more because he’s already helping you out of your seat, turning you around so you could start walking towards the door, pushing you until you’re out of the café.
You hear him sigh as you walk away from the café, arm around your shoulder like how you entered the place.
“Y/N, my sweet pea,” he softly says. “Please don’t to talk strangers.”
You shrug, “It’s not like I could just ignore him when he was already taking you space.”
He scoffs. “When strangers start talking to you and being all brave and upfront, you tell them: I don’t speak Korean well. Then just start hitting them with English words and exaggerate your accent. That’s how Mark Lee tries to avoid conversations with girls sometimes because he’s a loser and women make him nervous.”
“I don’t speak Korean well,” you repeat, slowly pronouncing each syllable.
“Where’s the notebook I asked you to bring everywhere?” Donghyuck asks. “Write that down.”
You nod and tell him you’d do it later. Donghyuck leads the way towards the stop just in time for the bus that’s about to leave. You and him hop in, taking the seats in the back, giggling when Donghyuck almost topples over as soon as the bus starts to move. He lets you sit by the window and starts telling you about how his sister always fights him to get the window seat and he’s never won so he naturally just gives people the said seat.
You’re nearby the next stop when you ask him: “Donghyuck, what if I tell people I don’t speak Korean well and they wouldn’t stop bothering me?”
Donghyuck looks nice in his brown, fluffy jacket, face bare, his eyeglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He looks even nice whenever he smiles like this.
“Y/N, do you know how cute you are?” An answer you don’t expect. “You’re so cute when you ask questions like this. I want to put you in my pocket.”
“Donghyuck,” you sigh, expecting a serious answer.
He reaches up to pat your head. “You won’t have to worry because we won’t let you be on your own unless you ask us to stay away. Especially me. Not me. I’ll make sure to take care of you and Mark while the two of you are here.”
You nod, still not satisfied with the answer. The Sanha situation awhile ago makes you realize how helpless you’d be if you weren’t with Mark or any of his friends. Donghyuck probably notices your dissatisfaction when he feels like you’re sulking, which you definitely are, because he chuckles and pokes your cheek to get your attention again.
“If it makes you feel better,” he says. “You could always ask them if they want to die.”
“That’s mean!” you gasp.
“Or tell them to fuck off,” he shrugs.
“Donghyuck!”
“What?” he asks. “It’s not like I don’t hear you and Mark say ‘fuck you’ to each other every day.”
You laugh at that. “Saying it in Korean hits different.”
“Right!” Donghyuck agrees. “I’ve been telling people saying fuck you in Korean has more impact than in any other language. I can say the word fuck every day.”
“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” you joke.
Donghyuck coos. “Oh, I’m so proud of you. You’re cracking jokes now.”
The bus halts at your stop, and Donghyuck helps you up by taking your hand the way he’s helping you learn the language. It’s only when you’ve reached the street to the apartment you share with Mark that you realized you’ve been holding hands all the way from the bus stop.
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저 알러지 있어요 (jeo alleoji iss-eoyo) – I’m allergic
“Do you not understand what you just did, Mark Lee?” you ask in disbelief.
It’s only a month into your stay in Seoul, and Mark does the dumbest thing ever. Mark Lee comes home with a pet cat.
There were three rules for the spring semester, three very specific and very easy rules: one, to always text each other’s location as soon as you step foot outside of the apartment (which you and him are constantly compliant about; you love Mark Lee for that); two, to never skip a class unless you’re sick (you’re only here until July; Mark decided he’s not wasting a single day in Seoul, even if it means going to classes on time and by schedule without fail); and lastly, don’t keep things you won’t be able to take back home.
Mark had said that these rules are specifically for you because rule number one ensures your safety, rule number ensures you get the real Korean education experience, and rule number three apparently ensures you’re not leaving anything important at the airport when you leave—which now you think is bullshit. The rules are more for him than you, but you love Mark Lee, and it’s not like the cat isn’t cute.
“But, Y/N,” Mark pouts. “She kept on staring at me with these eyes when Renjun was busy comparing brands of dog treats. It was like her eyes were calling me, asking me to take her home!”
The calico cat is a baby; Mark said it’s not even five months old yet. It’s the last from seven siblings, the last one to be adopted (and you think Mark is only telling you this to convince you this is a good idea. She jumps out from Mark’s lap and goes to you, staring at you first before settling herself on your lap.
“She loves you already!” Mark comments.
You sigh. “Mark. You know we can’t take her home, right? We’re leaving in like, five months.”
“Which means I have five months to convince our friends to adopt her while I’m in Canada!” he answers enthusiastically, his eyes almost sparkling with the way he’s talking. “I couldn’t just leave her there. My heart wouldn’t allow me to leave without her!”
“Fine,” you give up. “Don’t cry on me on the plane back home when we leave her.”
Mark chuckles. “I think I should be more worried about you crying on the plane back home.”
Someone knocks on your door before you can ask what he means by that. It’s Mark who stands and welcome the person, and of course, it’s Donghyuck.
It’s Saturday. Saturday means Donghyuck comes and hangs out at your place because he no longer has to work in the university library on the weekends. He’d quit, saying his big mouth isn’t fit for the library, and had asked the school administration to reassign him to another facility. Part of his scholarship is to work at least 16 hours a week in one of the university’s facilities. He’s paid, of course, but Donghyuck says he’s not paid enough to keep his mouth shut for 16 hours a week. The admin asked for a week to figure out where he’d be assigned next, so he had this entire weekend all to himself, which, to how it looks like now, he’d decided to spend with you and Mark.
Mark lets Donghyuck in. The latter’s smile falters when he sees you; he only gives you a curt nod. And it’s not like you’re expecting Donghyuck to cuddle you on the couch, alright? It’s just that, you’ve known each other for a month now, and have hung out together a handful of times—just the two of you—and he called you yesterday telling you he’d come hangout with you and Mark for the weekend, even said something about teaching you to play Apex if you have the energy for it. And it’s not like he’s obligated to come sit beside you as soon as he enters your apartment, but you’re confused when he sits on the single couch far away from you, stance uncomfortable and his face looking like he’d rather be elsewhere.
Mark’s voice fades away when he asks Donghyuck what their plans are, to which Donghyuck answers: “I’m actually just here to say hi. I’m leaving in a bit.”
“No way,” Mark protests.
“Or we could go out?” Donghyuck offers.
“Uh-uh,” Mark refuses. “Y/N has been excited all morning to see you. You’re not going to disappoint her today.”
“I didn’t say anything—” You try to say, but couldn’t translate what you want to say quick enough. “Donghyuck obviously doesn’t want to be here.”
Over the course of a month living in Seoul, you and Donghyuck had grown closer more than anyone. It would be ridiculous to deny Donghyuck’s seemingly unceasing affection towards you, and in the same manner, it would be a lie if you’d say you’re not enjoying all the attention he’s been giving you. Above the flirty and friendly advances he makes (but never crossing the line), Donghyuck has grown to be a good friend. During the first couple of weeks, you would refer to him as Mark’s friend; it’s safe you say you’re friends with him now.
Donghyuck’s decided to pick you up from the college of Social Sciences, convincing Mark that his building is literally next to yours and that a ten-minute walk to Arcade with you is not going to hurt him—Mark’s been walking with you for many years anyway, he would mumble under his breath, close enough for you to hear but distant enough for you to understand what he truly means. Hence, with the growing friendship you have with him, you wonder what you had done this time.
“It’s not like that,” Donghyuck answers the question you had in mind, both hands raised in defense. You raise an eyebrow. “That.”
Donghyuck points at your lap, Mark’s unnamed cat sleeping soundly now. Oh.
“I’m allergic,” he explains. “I can’t be around one within like a five-meter radius otherwise, I would, like, you know, die.”
“You’re exaggerating,” Mark comments. “Are you really?”
“Yeah,” Donghyuck confirms. “The allergens are getting to me. My throat is starting to close up. I have to leave now.”
This startles you and Mark, the latter quickly taking the calico cat from your lap and quickly taking it to his room. You reckon the cat’s allergens are all over you so you sit as far away as you can from Donghyuck.
“It’s fine,” he assures, but he already looks like he’s choking. “It’s not that serious. They usually just give me allergic rashes and kind of triggers my asthma. So, we’re good.”
“But you have a dog!” you remark. “You never told me you’re allergic to cats!”
He chuckles, “Well, you learn something every day.”
“There are some anti-histamine tablets from the cupboard,” you point out, still seated where you are. “I probably have allergens on my hands; please go get yourself one.”
Donghyuck does what he’s told, taking one and opening the fridge to get himself a bottle of water. You tell him you’re changing your clothes and ask him to wait up, offering to go out and have a meal with him instead.
Mark knocks on your door a couple of minutes later, finding you dressed up, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Donghyuck said he’d wait outside. You look nice.”
“I know I look nice,” you say as you go back to your vanity to throw whatever you’d need for the day in your small dumpling bag, including a box of Benadryl. “You’re not coming with us because you have cat all over you.”
Mark chuckles, leaning against the doorframe. “Donghyuck literally told me the same thing. He’s growing on you,”
You only hum in response, checking your bag for the last time before walking towards the door where Mark Lee is still leaning on, the same smirk playing on his lips still plastered.
“What?” you ask.
Mark doesn’t say anything, but he raises and shows you his right hand, sticking three fingers up.
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먹었습니다 (meog-eossseubnida) - The meal was good.
Seoul National University’s library is as quiet as it can be; it’s almost scary how the only sounds you’d only hear are the faint sounds of pages being flipped and pens gliding on notepads, and the eerie echoes of the tension coming from students who are either cramming on an assignment or jumping from one subject to another in hopes of getting everything they read retained in their head.
Donghyuck used to tell you this is the exact reason why he didn’t like working at the library. It’s too quiet but too loud at the same time. You chuckle at the memory of him telling you anecdotes of his short-lived employment in the library and wonder how different it is being the soccer team’s laundry guy. He’s probably pouting all the way from the beginning of his shift until the end.
“Here,” Jung Sungchan disrupts your thoughts, keeping his voice as quiet as possible. “I found these, maybe it could help bridge the gap we’re struggling on.”
You and Sungchan are paired up for a two-week long assignment for one of your major subjects. The objective was to present a summarized and substantial report on the welfare state, and you think Sungchan must have tripped on all the bad luck in his life to have been paired up with someone who couldn’t speak Korean that well, because, well, the books they had are mostly in Korean. If speaking and understanding Korean is a struggle for you, reading the damn language is hell.
“This is a good thing,” Sungchan assures. “There are resources online that are mostly in English. We can combine everything we find and construct the report from there!”
You nod and hand over the book you’re reading before he arrived, explaining that you found a chapter that could be very helpful. The boy fires up his laptop and starts accessing the website your professor had recommended you to use.
Sat side by side, you and Sungchan study in silence, except for when he asks you to read an article for him and explain what it means. The session lasts for hours, thank God you and him didn’t have classes for the rest of the day, and within those hours of studying with Sungchan, you can’t help but notice the looks you were getting anytime someone passes by the two of you.
It’s no secret that Jung Sungchan is probably one of the most attractive men in the university. He’s tall and has skin that’s as clear as a day in summer, smile that could swoon a lot of people off their feet, broad shoulders that’s probably carrying the entire hockey team for this year’s season—and yes, it doesn’t help the fact that Jung Sungchan is the most popular jock at the moment, apparently for hard carrying the team to win last year’s trophy, ending Seoul National University’s 10-year drought and awakening the school’s love for sports back. And you think it’s quite unfair that people like him exist. Because you would expect that he’s an asshole who doesn’t care about his grades because he’s essentially SNU’s hero at the moment, but he’s not. Jung Sungchan, you learn, takes his degree in Social Sciences very seriously.
And it’s evident with the way his eyebrows are furrowed as he reads the tenth book he found from the shelves.
“I think this part makes more sense now,” he points out, leaning closer so he could show you the article he’s reading. “In residual regimes, welfare-seeking units are primarily family and market. On the other hand, in the institutional welfare regime, the function of providing welfare belongs directly to the state.”
“But countries with different social conditions and lifestyles should have differed in terms of welfare states,” you argue. “We have to consider that the development of industrialization and production growth could be very different from one country to another.”
Sungchan hums. “Good point. Perhaps we can find more of that from Wilensky and Lebaux’s work. Do you have the book over there?”
You nod and hand him the book. Just as Sungchan flips the book open, Mark occupies the seat across you.
“We’ve been calling you,” Mark whispers to you, then turning to look at Sungchan. “Hey, man. Mark. Y/N’s best friend.”
Sungchan gives him a polite nod before going back to the book. You raise an eyebrow at Mark and slip your phone from the pocket of your backpack and find all the missed calls from him, Renjun, and Donghyuck.
“My phone’s been on silent for like, I don’t know, four hours,” you tell him, slipping your phone back to your back. “And I texted you I’d be at the library.”
“Yeah, like four hours ago,” he answers. “I didn’t think you’d really stay here for four hours. Anyway—” Mark pulls out a lunch bag and slides it across the table. “Donghyuck made this for you. He figured you’d be hungry.”
It’s only then that it hit you. The last meal you had was that bagel you had for breakfast on the way to school, which you had seven or eight hours ago.
“My sweet Donghyuckie,” you coo, thankful for his thoughtfulness. “Thanks, Mark. Sungchan and I will share because we’ll be here until we finish at least the structure of the report.”
“It’s getting late though,” Mark points out.
Sungchan clears his throat. “I can drive you home.”
“Great!” Mark exclaims, which earns him multiple shushes from the other students studying. “Sorry. Great!” he says again, in a whisper this time.
Mark bids goodbye to you and offers a handshake to Sungchan, telling him he’ll see him often in the next two weeks or for as long as you and him are paired-up on your major subjects. Sungchan gives him one last assurance you’ll be home safe.
You ask Sungchan to take a break and open the lunch bag. Inside it are two bento boxes full of food, too much for one person, and you don’t take another minute to wait. Sungchan must have been hungry too, because he doesn’t refuse when you offer the other half of your meal to him.
You’re not really sure how much longer you and Sungchan stay in the library, but as soon as you’ve finalized the structure of the report and have agreed on assigned topics, he suggests that you and him go home and meet up again on Friday so you can start assembling the presentation. And as promised, Sungchan drives you home, glad when he realized your apartment is only ten minutes away from his.
It’s already ten in the evening when you reach home. Mark’s probably already sleeping, you think when you don’t see any light peaking from smallest of the small space between his door and the floor. It’s late anyway, and you don’t really have much energy to tell him about your day like you always do. In fact, you don’t even have the energy to shower anymore, and because you don’t like sleeping on your bed with your outside clothes, you opt to sleep on the couch tonight.
The last thing you do is shoot Donghyuck a text message: “The meal was good.”
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삼각관계 (sam-gak-kwan-gae) – love triangle
Jung Sungchan invites you watch to one of his preliminary games the day after you completed the report with him. Mark teasingly tells you that you have boys wrapped around your finger not even two months living in Seoul. You deny the claims, of course, because Sungchan is nothing but a good friend and you don’t see him as anything more.
Donghyuck is the first person you think of when Sungchan gives you two spare tickets for the game, and you like to think that it’s only because you don’t want Mark teasing you and accusing you of romance all afternoon, and also because Donghyuck has a car and Mark is a shit navigator so you can’t trust him to commute with you from the university to the indoor arena where the game is being held.
SNU’s team wins, of course, and you proudly cheer for Sungchan, which earns you a side eye from Donghyuck. You shrug it off and pretend that you didn’t see.
“Can we go now?” Donghyuck asks, bored, when people start leaving the arena.
You shake your head. “Sungchan asked me to wait for him after the game.”
“You know that barbecue place I told you we’d go to?” Donghyuck reminds. “We can go there—“
Your phone rings. It’s Sungchan. Donghyuck sighs.
“Congratulations, nerd!” is the first thing you tell him. Sungchan thanks you, laughing from the other end of the call, and apologizes that he can no longer meet you because the team’s been hogging him the second they won the round.
“It’s fine,” you assure. “I’m with Donghyuck, anyway. I’ll see you at school?”
“No, no,” Sungchan answers. “There’s a small celebration party at Shotaro’s house. It’s a twenty to thirty-minute drive from your apartment. I’ll send you the location. Go there.”
Sungchan hangs up, and not even a second later, you receive a text from him, a location pinned on the message. You show the message and pout at Donghyuck, and he’s looking at you all bored, rolling his eyes, before nodding and taking your hand so you and him could leave the arena.
The drive to the place takes about an hour from the arena, and you spend it singing along to Michael Jackson’s songs.
“You have a really nice voice,” you comment. Donghyuck laughs.
“Baby,” he says. “I wouldn’t be pursuing a career in music if I had a shitty voice.”
The nickname gives you a flush, and you could only hope Donghyuck wouldn’t notice.
Almost two months into meeting Lee Donghyuck, you find yourself unable to keep your heartbeat down whenever he does things like this—calling you nicknames, randomly showing up in places where you are just to say hi, holding your hand, texting and calling you every day, spending his weekends and times off with you, and doing simple and domestic things for you—and your heart tells you it’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with a whirlwind romance in Seoul. Donghyuck doesn’t ever hesitate, and the fact that you’re holding back means you really like him. But the rational part of you says it’s not really a good idea to be in a situationship with someone who will most likely forget you as soon as you go back to Canada, and you can’t afford a heartache from miles away. Besides, Donghyuck probably isn’t that serious with whatever that’s going on.
Rumors say (by rumors, you mean Chenle and Jisung) that Donghyuck is the type of guy who dates one girl after another. Because he’s bold and charming and amiable and likes to expand his choices, and he finds that there’s nothing wrong with dating as long as he doesn’t date multiple women at the same time. You haven’t really seen him out on a date since you had met him. Rumor (Chenle) says that he’s been single since fall of last year and had committed to stay single this year because of the messy breakup and also because he’s on his last year of college, he’d need to focus on stepping up his game if he wants entertainment companies to fight over him as soon as he starts looking for agencies after graduation. Another rumor (Jisung) says he’s rejected many women who have tried to sleep with him since news broke that Lee Donghyuck is newly single. The rumor says he’s as popular as Jung Sungchan when it comes to women, which, if you’re being honest, gives you some kind of pedestal to walk hand-in-hand with him in the university grounds. You realize now that you get the same look from women when you’re with Donghyuck like the stares you got whenever you and Sungchan are stuck in the library for hours of studying.
The only difference is that, well, you like that people stare at you with a hint of jealousy whenever you’re with Donghyuck.
“Why haven’t you invited me to your gigs?” you ask before you could even think about it. “Sungchan’s only been friends with me for like three weeks and he already got me tickets to his game. You, on the other hand…”
The car halts to a slow stop, Donghyuck’s phone telling you that you’ve arrived at your location. Donghyuck doesn’t switch off the engine though. He chuckles licking his lips, then poking his tongue on his cheeks, fucking with your heart and hormones in the process. He keeps his hand on the steering wheel and turns to look at you, eyes hazed in attraction like he’s pulling you in.
“Baby,” he says in a whisper almost. “I don’t like love triangles.”
“Love… triangles?” you repeat.
“Love triangles,” he says in English. “I fucking hate it. And we’re not about to go through that trope in our love story here. So, let me make it clear before we go inside and before you even think about sticking to Sungchan all night.”
You gulp.
“There’s no Sungchan in the equation,” he states like a command and you find yourself nodding, agreeing. “It’s only you and me. Tonight, there will be a lot of people and none of them will be in the equation. Tonight, you’re sticking with me and we’ll talk about this tomorrow. Have fun with me and see if you want to take this to another level, because if you ask me, I’ve been dying to fucking kiss you since the semester began.”
This territory is new, and this Donghyuck is new, too. He’s always been affectionate and he’s never held back, but this new level of honesty is astonishing. Damn attractive if you’re being honest.
“Come here,” he says, ridding himself from his seatbelt. You do the same, leaning closer to him. Donghyuck holds your cheeks with both hands, smiling down at you before leaning in to kiss your forehead. “I’m not giving you mixed signals. This is me giving you a clear, direct sign that I like you and I like what we have, but I’d love to take another step. I’ve been thinking about it, and I don’t really want someone to enter the equation while I’m trying to woo you.”
You giggle. “You already successfully wooed the romance out of me the second you started holding my hand, Lee Donghyuck. And no, there won’t be love triangles.”
Donghyuck’s honesty fires up some courage in you, and you like the feeling of watching him falter when you lean in, hand on the back of his neck, and kiss him for the first time. The man melts in your kiss and in your touch, but doesn’t wait for another heartbeat to kiss you back. And despite of the bottled-up and eagerness from both sides, the first kiss is soft the first time, featherlike and sweet. His lips are even softer than they look and his lips already look plump as it is, and when Donghyuck licks your lips and invites himself in, God, he makes sure you taste the sweetness from his mouth and in a minute you’re addicted and you kiss and kiss and kiss, lips locking, tongue gliding, breaths gasping.
It’s him who pulls away, leaving you with dazed eyes wanting, wanting, wanting more.
Donghyuck gives you one last kiss on the forehead. “Let’s go.”
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이렇게? (ireoke) – Like this?
You don’t end up seeing Sungchan at all in the party, and you don’t mind because Donghyuck keeps you glued to his side. The party is fun, but you and Donghyuck decide not to drink a single drop of alcohol. To him, it’s because he has to drive. To you, it’s because you want to be entirely sober to remember whatever happens tonight.
Donghyuck makes out with you in the corner of the living room where people are crumpled, and you like that he doesn’t care that people see. He holds you by the waist and on your neck, and you get it now. You get why women are lining up to sleep with Donghyuck, because if he can kiss like this, what else can he do with his mouth?
You shoot a message to Sungchan with a selfie of you and Donghyuck, thanking him for inviting you to the party and telling him you’ll see him on your next class together (Donghyucks suggests you send Sungchan a picture of you and him making out.) and prompt to leave. Donghyuck says goodbye to a few people he knew, holding you by the waist all the way from the house to where his car is parked.
Donghyuck drives you to his apartment and tells you he’s told Mark you’d be sleeping at his place tonight. The drive itself was intense enough and Donghyuck’s doing an amazing job keeping his cool while you’re practically sweating from the passenger’s seat.
You don’t even get a good look at his apartment when you arrive, because Donghyuck’s already kissing you as he rids himself of his jacket. Donghyuck doesn’t kiss you softly this time; he kisses you like he’s leaving a mark on your mouth, almost like he wants to bruise his presence inside you. He helps you get slip out of your jacket, pulling away quickly to kick his shoes off, before carrying you bridal style and bringing you to his room, kicking the door behind.
Despite the roughness of his kisses, he puts you to bed gently, ridding himself of his shirt and kneeling on the floor so he could help you out of your socks. He leans up once he’s done, one hand on your jaw to pull you down for another kiss, the other caressing your thigh.
“Please tell me this is okay,” he whispers. You nod. “I need your words, baby.”
“Yes, Donghyuck,” you answer, breathless when he starts kissing your neck. “This is okay. Please touch me.”
Donghyuck pushes you a little so half of your body is lying on his bed, your feet flat on his carpeted floor, tugging the loops of your jeans, urging you to lift your hips so he can rid you out of the material. He pulls you back up to take your shirt off from your torso, then he’s helping you back up from the edge of the bed towards the headboard as he crawls on top of you.
“Donghyuck,” you gasp when he goes back to kissing you. You realize that Donghyuck like kissing with the way he’s using his mouth to imprint his presence in you, his tongue licking everywhere it can reach inside your mouth, and he tastes like mint and the soda he had at the party, and he’s everything that you want. “Touch me, please.”
“Like this?” Donghyuck reaches down to rub your clit through the material of your underwear. He rubs slow, teasingly, and kisses you on the mouth when you groan. He dips his head lower and kisses your neck; he bites and nips and sucks and you’re sure it’s leaving a mark you’d have to conceal the next day. “Want me to touch you like this, baby?”
A moan elicits from your throat, and Donghyuck doesn’t waste any more time. He slips his warm hand between your skin and your underwear, really touching you, rubbing your clit gently, his digits dragging itself on your slit slowly, gathering your wetness then going back to rub your clit again, more roughly with the pool of wetness his fingers have now.
“Like this?” he asks again, pushing a finger inside when he finds your hole, urging another moan from your lips.
“Oh my God, Donghyuck,” you gasp when he fingers you gently, your wetness making a sound when he adds another finger. Donghyuck takes his time, biting his lips as he watches you writhe underneath his touch.
“Pull your bra down,” he breathes out, and you do. When your breasts are out on the open, Donghyuck doesn’t waste time and locks lips with your nipple, sucking and licking as he fingers the sanity out of you. He alternates from fingering you with two digits and rubbing you using his thumb, and you’re all putty and messy under him, and you want more, more, more, more.
“Baby, please fuck me,” you beg. “Please, Donghyuck. Please fuck me”
Donghyuck hushes you. “I will, baby. I’ll fuck you so well, you’ll come running back to me tomorrow and the day after, and the day after.”
But he doesn’t. He pulls his fingers out, hold you by your jaw so you could lock eyes while he licks the proof of your attraction to him from his fingers, sucking and showing you just how well he could use his tongue. He doesn’t fuck you get but he rids you of the last garments from your body and does the fucking impossible.
Donghyuck eats you out like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have. He swirls his tongue on your clit as he pushes his digits back in your hole, fingering you like it’s all he’s ever wanted, and he’s got you chanting his name like a prayer when his tongue laps your sex, even more when he replaces his fingers with his tongue. You’re writhing and screaming and Donghyuck’s holding your legs apart while he pleasures you with his mouth and hands.
You don’t want to cum yet, but Donghyuck’s so, so good, and it looks like he’s not stopping anytime soon. He tongues you back to your clit and fingers you with three digits, fast and rough.
“Donghyuck, I’m going to—” You see white and stars and you stay still when Donghyuck continues fingering you, moving all three fingers in an upward motion, reaching where you want him the most, mouth sucking your clit as you ride the first orgasm you’ve had in months.
Donghyuck lets you have your moment when it’s done, taking the time to lick the slick wetness from his fingers down to his wrist, kneeling between your legs. You push yourself up so that you’re sitting with your legs wide open, your palms flat on his sheets, head tilted for a kiss. Donghyuck leans over and kisses you again, and you never thought you’d like tasting yourself in his tongue. You guess everything tastes sweeter when it’s in Donghyuck’s mouth.
“Off, please,” you murmur, pulling the loops from his jeans. Donghyuck obeys, removing all pieces of clothing until he’s naked.
You marvel at his beauty, licking your lips when you finally see him bare and clean. His golden skin looks like honey and you want to kiss the fuck out of his collarbones and leave your mark for everyone to see. Your eyes travel from his chest down to the trail from his tummy down to his erect cock. He’s hard and red and you salivate from how big he looks and feel yourself getting even more wet at the thought of him fucking you. Before you know it, you’re reaching out, moving so you could kneel, and taking his hardness in your hand. Donghyuck moans for the first time tonight, and you plan to elicit that sound from him all night.
Stroking him slowly, you feel a rush of satisfaction when Donghyuck pants your name. “Oh my God,” he moans when you bend over, a palm flat on his sheets, your other hand stroking him as you take him to your mouth. He gathers your hair and watches you from above, and you purposely stick your ass up higher when you feel him twitch as you take more of his cock into your mouth. When you’re about halfway, you stroke the rest of what you can’t take and start sucking and licking, and Donghyuck makes the absolute best sound ever. You like his voice when he sings, but you don’t think anything could compare with how he’s whining your name as you suck his dick thoroughly, licking and jerking off whatever your mouth couldn’t fit. A part of you wants to ask Donghyuck to fuck your mouth, bruise your throat with his dick and cum straight down your fucking stomach if he wants to, but that could be arranged next time. This time, with his dick hard and wet from your mouth, you want him to fuck you.
You suck him one last time before you pull away, a string of your saliva following when you look up at Donghyuck. “Now, will you fuck me?”
Donghyuck looks fucked out, eyes dazed with lust, and you want nothing more than for him to ruin you. And Donghyuck doesn’t need to be asked twice.
He crawls back up until you’re lying on your back, legs wide open for him, and kneels between your legs. “Ready and sure?” he asks for the last time, stroking himself.
“Pull out when you cum,” is all you say and Donghyuck goes for it. He gives you a kiss and rests one of his forearms beside your arm, massaging the head of his cock on your opening until he’s stretching you out.
“Fuck,” Donghyuck groans when he feels your tightness. “God damn, Y/N, when was the last time you got fucked?”
“I—I can’t remember,” you say. “None of them were worth remembering.”
“And me?” Donghyuck asks as he pushes deeper until he’s fully stretched you and his pelvis is leaning against your clit. “Will you remember me?”
“Ask me next time,” you breathe out. “I think you’ll have to fuck me every day so I can remember.”
Donghyuck gives you some time, kissing you softly. “When was the last time you fucked anyone?” you ask in return.
“I can’t remember,” he parrots. “None of them were worth remembering. All I know is that this is the first time I’m feeling someone raw.” Then he bottoms out, gives you only half a second before he’s thrusting back and out and back and out and back and out, slowly but surely fucking you well.
Donghyuck fucks you like he means it. His hips snap roughly but makes sure you feel all of him before he thrusts out and he’s everywhere. His tongue is in your mouth, then on your neck, his free hand is caressing one of your breasts, playing with your nipples, and he’s making you feel so, so good and you’re not sure how you go back from here. You’re not sure how you could go on with life knowing how well Donghyuck can fuck you. He’s got you squirming and reaching your second orgasm only minutes into fucking the life out of you.
When you’re close, Donghyuck pushes himself up so that he’s kneeling again, and lifts both your legs, resting your calves on either side of his shoulders, hugging your legs so he can fuck you deeper in this angle. The precision makes you chant his name over and over again and he takes one of his hands down to rub your clit. You try your best to hold back from cumming because the way he’s fucking you now feels so damn good that you want it to last for a long time. He thrusts in and out quickly, his balls hitting the bottom of your ass again and again.
“Come for me, baby,” he says. “Let go.”
So, you do, and Donghyuck keeps on fucking you through it. Donghyuck lets you finish, before he’s pushing the back of your knees down so your thighs are pressed up against your stomach, chasing his own orgasm, and fucks you hard, without rhythm, until he is moaning your name like praise and he’s pulling out so he could release on your stomach. You reach up to caress his cheek as you watch him in awe as he finishes, his face contorted in pleasure, lips wet and eyes closed.
When it’s done, Donghyuck kisses you on the forehead and helps you clean up. He leaves to go to the bathroom for a minute to grab a warm, wet towel, cleaning your stomach, and carries you back to the bathroom with him. The shower is warm, and Donghyuck is gentle and sweet when he cleans you up, giving you kisses when he pats you dry once he’s gotten rid of the shampoo and body wash from your hair and skin. Donghyuck tells you there’s a spare toothbrush on behind the mirror and washes himself as you brush your teeth, naked but warm.
Donghyuck tells you to that the right side of his closet is where you can find the clothes he uses at home and you follow as he finishes cleaning himself up. You take the liberty to take one of his shirts that are still too big for you despite Donghyuck’s frame and slip a pair of cotton shorts.
Donghyuck finds you half-asleep when he’s done showering; he sleeps shirtless, you reckon, because he crawls to bed only in sweatpants. He cuddles you from behind, kissing the clothed shoulder, and the last thing you hear before you drift off to sleep is him humming a song your mind can’t recognize and a promise that you’ll talk about this the next day.
You wake up to the smell of Spam, an empty space beside yours, and the sound of Donghyuck singing a song from BOL4, which you learned is one of his favorite musicians.
Donghyuck smiles warmly at you when you find him in the kitchen, just about to finish pan-frying the last piece of sliced luncheon meat. He’s still shirtless, but is wearing a cute pink apron, and he gives you a quick kiss on the lips like it’s the most natural thing ever. The second his lips pull away from yours, you reach up and touch where he kissed, lips tingling—in disbelief that what happened last night is real.
“Good morning,” he hums. “Just in time for breakfast.”
“Donghyuck,” you trail off. “Can we talk first?”
Donghyuck nods, offering that you sit on the high stool across the small kitchen island. He sits next to you, turning the seat so that you’re face to face, knees touching. “What do we want to do?” he asks.
“You know I’m leaving in like, four months, right?” you start.
Donghyuck whistles. “We just started and you’re already breaking up with me?”
“No, no,” you say, exhaling. “This… this. I like. You. I like.”
“Baby, construct your sentences properly,” he laughs.
“I like you,” you confess. “And I like this. I like holding your hands. And kissing you. And what we did last night. I’m just worried because—”
“Because you’re leaving,” he finishes for you. “I know, but I also like you a lot. More than you probably think. And I don’t want to miss my chance getting to know you more just because you’re leaving in a few months. I don’t know what you want, but here’s what I want, you let me know if it works for you, if not, then I’ll still be a friend. Who might cry for two weeks straight if you reject me.”
You laugh but urge him to continue.
“I want to date you, and get to know you even more. Your quirks, the things that make you angry, your comfort food, the movies that give you the ick,” he continues. “Your family, how you were raised, if you like Marvel or DC more, what Hogwarts house you belong to, if you like pineapple in pizza or not, whether you pour milk or cereal first, if you ever kissed Mark Lee, if Mark Lee’s ever had a crush on you.”
“What does Mark have—”
“Shh,” he stops. “It’s my turn. Talk later. Anyway, I want this—” he gestures the space between you and him. “And I want you. I want to keep teaching you the language and I know what’s ahead of us is scary, and there’s only two things that could happen: this is going to be either the biggest heartbreak of my life or you’re going to be the greatest love of my life. It’s a fifty-fifty chance, Y/N. Let’s just say I’m willing to risk whatever if it means I have 50% the chances of having you as the greatest love of my life.”
Oh. You don’t realize you’re staring quietly until Donghyuck holds your hand.
“Now tell me,” he asks slowly. “What do you want?”
You don’t hesitate. “I want you, Lee Donghyuck.”
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일어날 수 있는 최악의 상황은 무엇입니까? il-eonal su issneun choeag-ui sanghwang-eun mueos-ibnikka? What’s the worst that could happen?
It doesn’t come out as a surprise to anyone when you and Donghyuck arrive at Arcade holding hands, a shy smile playing on your lips, a proud one in Donghyuck’s. You were thankful that there were no teasing remarks coming from your friends—that they were taking this so well, like it’s normal. Like it’s meant to happen anyway. There’s a knowing smirk on Mark’s stupid face, but you love him and you can’t wait to tell him all about how you feel towards Donghyuck. “Okay, so my birthday falls on a weekend,” Jeno announces. “And I think it’s the best time to go to the amusement park. Will you have work then, Renjun-ah?”
“Most likely,” Renjun answers, mouth full of food as he chews on a bite of pizza. “But I can have Yerim cover for me. I’ll just return the favor if she needs me one day.”
“Sweet!” Jeno exclaims. “So, it’s decided then. We’ll go to the amusement park on my birthday.”
As you and Donghyuck play footsie under the table, Mark stands, turning to you. “I’m going to get another milkshake. Come with me?”
You nod, kicking Donghyuck one last time and standing to follow your best friend. Somehow, you feel bad for not saying anything about your growing feelings for Donghyuck, considering that Mark is your best friend in the entire universe and you’re his. If it were him, he would’ve told you the second he caught feelings to anyone. But Mark knows you’re not the kind to admit feelings like this as soon as it starts inflating in your chest; he knows you’re the type to hold it in until you can’t anymore. Having had terrible relationships in the past, Mark has always known that you’re the kind to be careful.
“I didn’t think you’d actually go for it,” Mark says as soon as you and him are out of earshot. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy for you. I just didn’t expect this to happen so quickly.”
“Me neither,” you mumble under your breath. “Sorry for not saying anything.”
Mark chuckles. “You didn’t have to. I mean, we all kinda always known this would happen. I just couldn’t imagine how you and Donghyuck sealed it so quickly, like considering how shy and quiet you always were whenever he was around.”
“I was shy and quiet with everyone around,” you remark. “Donghyuck taught me all these slangs and now I can’t stop talking.”
The woman in the counter asks you what she can help you with when you reach her. Mark tells his order alongside some sides Renjun had asked him to get. He leans on the counter, turning back to you. “Anyway.”
“Yeah?”
“I think you’re serious serious.” Mark clears his throat. “Like, I’ve known you for so long and you’ve always been hesitant to do shit. I’ve always been the spontaneous and reckless one between us, and you’re the careful one. The one who thinks everything through before deciding on it—this trip to Seoul included on the long list.”
“Your point is?” you ask, even though you know exactly where this is going.
Mark licks his lips before continuing: “What I’m saying is, you’ve never been this certain so quickly.”
That’s right. Not to be cliché or whatever, but this is normally how it goes for you. Relationships used to be difficult for you—from the pining to the confession to its climax to its end, until the bargaining and acceptance—and you’d never been the type to go through things so quickly and easily. With Donghyuck, you’d somehow done it backwards (and Mark doesn’t need to know that you slept with Donghyuck before you even sealed the damn relationship) but for some reason, you had forgotten how you’re supposed to act around people you like romantically. It scares the shit out of you, the connection between you and Donghyuck, but you’ve always been a firm believer that if it doesn’t scare you, it probably isn’t something worth doing. It feels like jumping from a cliff, to the bottom of the unknown, and it’s new, but it makes your heart pound like never before.
“I don’t want to get ahead and say something that’d make you change your mind somehow, because I also like you and Donghyuck together,” he explains when you only stare at him. “But, as your best friend, with the best intentions only, please don’t go breaking your heart before we leave, yeah?”
You nod, understanding and appreciating Mark’s sentiment. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
Mark shrugs. “We won’t really know. Take care, yeah?”
You smile stepping closer to hug Mark. “I love you, you know that, right?” he asks. You nod, your face buried on his chest. “Good. I’ll beat Donghyuck’s ass if he hurts you in anyway.”
“I sure hope you do,” you reply, just in time for the staff to call Mark’s attention, the tray of his order ready for him.
Donghyuck is pouting when you return, asking why you and Mark took too long because the seat beside him is all cold now. You kiss him on the cheek and tell him Mark just told you he’s beating his ass if you’re hurt in anyway.
“Mark can’t hurt a fly,” Donghyuck remarks. “What makes you think he can hurt me, huh?”
Mark scoffs. “You’ll be the first.”
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계절과 계절 사이 (gyejeolgwa gyejeol sai) – between seasons
When the seasons start to change—from the rainy, cold spring transition to a warm, sunny summer—you and Donghyuck change, too.
From the euphoric blooming of your relationship—the playful dates, the passionate moments in his bedroom (because ever since Mark adopted that cat, Donghyuck could never stay at your place for longer than an hour), the heart-warming feeling of seeing him waiting for your after your class—to the warm, comfortable attachment stage, you feel like you know Donghyuck in a deeper sense now.
The small notebook he’d given you at the beginning of the term is halfway full, its pages messily scribbled with phrase and sentences you had learned—likewise the memories those words carry—and soon enough you find yourself more comfortable with the language, and eventually with Seoul. You find yourself enjoying, and not in a way that makes you think you’d want to visit again soon.
The journey with Seoul was initially a play to learn the language and its beautiful culture: a detour. A diversion from your plans. A stop while you figure out what you want in life. Your last year in university is supposed to be the year you finally decide what to do next. Visiting Seoul was an opportunity for you to really get to know yourself beyond your comfort zone, to really challenge your capabilities, to learn beyond what your hometown had in store for you.
But these days do not feel like Seoul is a place to visit.
In a way, liberating albeit frightening, you find yourself thinking that perhaps Seoul is a place to build a home in. The home is built from arms that hold you on days when it’s extra cold, your nose red and hands frozen, and its shelter is made from Donghyuck’s warm smile and the assurance of him being there for you. And right now, while you sit closely together at the back of your friend’s car, their obnoxiously loud voices singing to some pop song along the radio, you feel it: home.
Jeno likes the phone case you had customized for him, and he gives you a big, bear hug as soon as he take a peek of what’s inside your present.
“I love you. I literally love you with all my being,” he dramatically says as he squishes you.
“That’s my girlfriend, you idiot,” Donghyuck complains, pulling Jeno’s arms away from you. With the way you three are seated at the back of Renjun’s car, you sitting in between them, it’s uncomfortable and Donghyuck insists on taking part of the little moment you’re having with Jeno.
Jeno whines, “Let me love her. This is the best gift ever!”
Donghyuck ends up puffing air out of his mouth, pouting and leaning back so Jeno could hug you. You’re laughing and Jeno whispers how easily they could make him sulk these days because you’re around.
Mark, who’s sitting on the passenger seat beside Renjun, announces you’ve arrived at the amusement park, just as Jaemin’s car halts to a slow stop behind you.
It’s the first time you’ve ever visited the famous amusement park in Seoul, and Mark looks excited with the way he’s jumping as you line up for the tickets. Donghyuck has his arm around you, taking pictures with his other hand. The rest are chattering, talking about the rides they’d love to try.
The secretly group decides to stick together for the entire day to celebrate Jeno’s day, despite the birthday boy himself telling everyone they can go wherever they want to. You could see how much they really care about one another and they all just hide it in their mean, vile jokes. For example, the man who has his arm wrapped around you likes teasing Jeno like it’s his full-time job, but is hiding a birthday present inside the trunk of Renjun’s car (and would most likely give it before you all head home, act like his best friend’s birthday isn’t that much of a big deal).
Most of the day is spent following Jeno around, whatever ride he wanted to try and your ears ringing because of how loud Donghyuck is screaming. The temperature has gone from freezing cold to warm, the humidity making it a little harder for everybody to move around under the warmth of the sun.
“I never realized how much of a scaredy cat you are, Donghyuckie,” you tease as soon as you walk out of the roller coaster ride. “Not much of a tough guy now, huh?”
Donghyuck whines, “I liked you better when the words you spoke were only yes and no.”
Mark laughs, slapping Donghyuck on the back. “Oh man, that was really good.”
“Yeah?” You rebut. “And I liked you better when you weren’t screaming like a kid.”
Donghyuck smirks, “And I like you better when you’re screaming my name.”
Renjun and Jisung cough in disgust, and Mark just straight up slapped the back of Donghyuck’s head. “You two are disgusting. I can’t believe I live with you, Y/N.”
Donghyuck laughs, turning to you. “It’s pretty hot. Want me to go grab you a can of soda? Ice cold water?”
“Water, please,” you say. Donghyuck nods and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling Chenle with him and walking to the opposite side where a small shop is. In the meantime, the rest of you occupy the benches under a shade, Jeno asking which ride to go next.
Donghyuck and Chenle return in a matter of time, bottles of drinks in their hands. They give everyone their preferred drinks, Donghyuck sitting beside Mark and extending an arm so he could hand you your drink from his side.
“Fucking summer,” Donghyuck curses. “I hate summer.”
Renjun raises an eyebrow. “Suddenly?”
“It’s not even summer yet,” Jaemin points out. “What happened to you? You’ve always been so excited about summer.”
“It’s so hot. I can’t stand this fucking temperature,” Donghyuck mumbles.
Renjun scoffs. “You start planning our summer getaway as early as March.”
“It’s already April and you have nothing yet,” Jisung points out.
“Yeah, what the hell, man. I hate your ridiculous ideas, but we can’t survive summer without you,” Jeno adds, then looks at Mark. “Yo, Mark, what about you? What are you doing this summer?”
You and Mark freeze, looking at each other for a second, before the latter speaks for you both: “We’re, uh, we’re supposed to go home.”
It seems like Jeno didn’t know the weight of his question because he apologizes as soon as he realizes it. The group falls into silence, no one says anything, or perhaps nobody could think of anything to say, not even you or Mark.
With your days in Seoul numbered, you realize now that you haven’t really talked about it—not you and Mark, not you and Donghyuck—and it never really felt real. You had always told yourself you’ll cross the bridge when you get there, and the bridge is nearby.
Donghyuck clears his throat. “The sun’s going to kill me. I think I saw a burger joint that has an air-conditioning system down the corner of that street. Shall we go there?”
Everybody agrees and stand to leave. Donghyuck holds your hand, pulling you close and steals a kiss on your cheek. The gesture makes your heart flutter. Donghyuck is warm, but not in the way the sun is hot right now—in a way that gets you thinking: can this warmth reach Vancouver?
Your skin hurts when the sunlight hits you. You hate summer.
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 오해 하지마 (ohae hajima) – Don’t misunderstand
Donghyuck had a face that looked like what an artist would draw in a whim—spontaneously—like it was done in a rush, like a portrait from a park done by a street artist, something done with a pencil. Ink stains are harder to wash off, and anyway, figments aren’t mean to last—and he’s almost unrecognizable in this light.
You can’t recognize him on the night of his birthday.
His Mother had gone above and beyond and invited all of their closest relatives and family friends for his 23rd birthday, and it’s also your first time meeting them.
It’s nerve-wracking to say the least, but his Mother smiles at you kindly when she greets you from the entrance of the restaurant they rented for the evening. You could tell his family was wealthy, and it makes sense because Donghyuck got the most bare minimum job he could find, and it’s most likely because he doesn’t need to get one; he probably only got one so he could talk about work, too, just like the rest of his friends.
The birthday party is a surprise and it was Renjun who connected with everyone to make sure they attend here tonight. You had to make up some excuse to Donghyuck when he asked why you can’t join him for dinner with his family tonight and had promised to make it up to him the day after.
You’re sat in the same table as Mark, Renjun, Jeno, and Jaemin, a bit far away from Donghyuck’s family’s table, as you wait for the birthday boy, your present sitting on top of the round table. Mark talks about his cat, letting Jaemin watch snippets of his pet from his phone, and Renjun is narrating a story about his “ridiculous and absurd encounter with Liu Yangyang (and you and Jeno can’t pass up the opportunity to tease him about it).
Then, someone comes sit beside Jaemin, the boys gasping when they see her.
Karina is beautiful, and even saying that isn’t enough to describe the woman’s beauty. Soft-spoken and brilliant, Karina naturally allows everyone to gravitate towards her. All, including yourself, are pulled like magnet when she arrived. Jeno introduces you and you allow yourself to throw a quick and inaudible “hello” when she reaches over and asks you how you are.
Donghyuck’s Mother almost screams when she sees Karina, excitement filling up the air as she hugs her and thanks her for attending.
“I wouldn’t miss Hyuckie’s birthday for the world, eommoni,” Karina answers, and before you could ask Renjun how she’s related to Donghyuck, Jisung, who’s seated in another table with Donghyuck’s younger siblings, announces that the birthday man himself has arrived.
Donghyuck enters the hall, surprised and happy when he sees everyone, a dramatic cry leaving his lips as everyone greets him happy birthday. He feigns complaint, whining that he’s no longer eight years old, but hugs his parents anyway.
His parents thank everyone for joining a precious day and celebrating their eldest son’s birthday with them. Donghyuck bows and starts to go around to thank people.
You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he finally reaches your table and he gives you small smile, hugging you quickly before moving on to the next person. You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he goes to Karina, lifting her as he hugs her tightly, and thanking her for being able to come. You don’t recognize Donghyuck when his Mother joins the little reunion and he laughs when his Mother jokes about them missing each other too much.
“She’s the one who left me all alone here in Seoul,” Donghyuck pouts. “We wouldn’t have missed each other this much if you had stayed!”
“Don’t be such a drama queen, Hyuckie,” Karina says, rolling her eyes. “You visited me in Tokyo literally six months ago.”
Six months ago, which means, it was right before you arrived in Seoul.
You want to be anywhere else but here, and you don’t want to listen any further, but the scenario runs like a comedy show and the punch line is you.
“You two better decide whatever the hell you want to do with your lives by the end of the year,” Donghyuck’s Mother comments. “I mean, no one’s stopping you from moving to Tokyo, Donghyuck. You and Karina can rekindle whatever light was burnt last year. I’m glad you stayed best of friends despite the long distance. You’ve always made a great couple.”
Your breath hitches like your lungs had just been punch. Donghyuck, it seems, finally remembers you’re watching this unfold. Mark holds you, and bless him because your legs feel like they’re about to give up. You and Donghyuck make eye contact, but you don’t recognize him at all.
“Eomma,” Donghyuck clears his throat. Everything else he’s said come out like a blur, and Mark is just holding you close.
“Don’t misunderstand,” Renjun whispers closely. “They’re just friends.”
You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he watches you leave.
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천천히 말씀해 주세요 (chun-chun-hee mal-sseum-heh ju-seh-yo)  - Please speak slowly | 집 (jib) - home
Karina turns out to be the one that got away. The one true love. The greatest love. The childhood best friend who’s always been there. The leading woman. She turns out to be the protagonist in Donghyuck’s story.
You learn all of these from Renjun. Even when he refused to say a single word and had begged for you to talk to Donghyuck instead, you learn the truth by asking Mark to ask Renjun.
Donghyuck and Karina. Karina and Donghyuck. Two peas in a pod. A tight knit. Knowing each other like the back of their hands. A buy one, get one kind of deal. Where one is, the other would follow. And everyone and their moms know that it has always been like that, will always be like that.
Donghyuck and Karina, born on the same year, grew up in the same small village in Jeju island. Having been inseparable since, they ended up moving to Seoul together in high school. Donghyuck’s parents were supportive of Donghyuck pursuing a career in music, and they believed that moving to Seoul was the first step for their beloved son to find his spotlight. Karina’s parents, however, couldn’t afford moving alongside the Lee family despite wanting to support their daughter, too. Donghyuck begged his parents to have Karina move in with them so her parents would only worry about paying her tuition and allowances. The Lee family agreed, of course, because Donghyuck and Karina were fifteen, and they were the best team the world has ever known.
Karina is a talented dancer, and with a face like hers, it would be a shame to keep her in a small town in Jeju island. Her moving to Seoul had been the first step to her early success, because as soon as she reached puberty and had gained a butt and a pair of breasts, agencies were scouting her, creepily waiting for her outside of hers and Donghyuck’s high school. She’d declined, of course, with a promise to Donghyuck that they’d go to stardom together, but Donghyuck wanted to study and make music, and he felt as though he needed to go to college for that.
Karina eventually moved to another dormitory when she started training. Donghyuck moved downtown to start college. They were in different places, but they were still inseparable.
Pretty much every day Donghyuck would meet up with Karina when she started training; if not, then he’d be on Facetime with her during the hours when she’s not working. He had brought her to SNU many times, and they had started dating by the time Donghyuck is in his second year. All the other guys know Karina and her place in Donghyuck’s life. Somehow, a bitter part of you feels betrayed that none of them ever mentioned about Donghyuck’s great love, but you can’t really blame them for not saying anything.
They broke up on the latter months of last year because Karina had to move to Tokyo. There was no big fight apparently, just the decision that it’s most likely not going to work because—listen to this; this is the biggest punch line of this comedy show—Donghyuck can’t handle long distance.
You had answered one of Donghyuck’s calls by mistake. He’s mad for some reason, perhaps angry of the fact that you’re ignoring him and he doesn’t have much control like he normally does.
“Y/N, for fuck’s sake, why haven’t you answered?” he had cried out as soon as you answered.
“I was busy,” was all you could come up with. You brain had not been working good enough to translate things to Korean.
“What do you mean you were busy?” he had asked, voice loud and angry. “You literally disappeared on me! On my fucking birthday! And I’m done playing nice and cool because this is unfair. Whatever the fuck you’re doing is unfair you’re not letting me in. If you could just let me explain, things—”
“Please speak slowly.”
“—would be easier for the two of us. Whatever Karina and I had, it’s been over since last year. It’s over way before I met you. I never thought of her, not even for a goddamn second since we got together. I wouldn’t fucking betray you like that—”
“I can’t understand you.”
“—and I can’t believe you don’t trust me enough to let me at least tell you what happened! I never mentioned her because I never even thought about her! My Mother doesn’t know anything! I’ve wanted you to meet my Mother for a long time, but given our situation, a fucking time bomb ticking, I didn’t know if it was too early to go to that stage.”
“Time bomb?” you had asked, repeating the syllables slowly. “What’s that?”
Donghyuck sighed on the other line. “The thing that explodes at a predetermined time.”
“Oh, a time bomb,” you asked in English, chuckling. “That, we are.”
“Huh?”
“We’re a fucking time bomb,” you said, again in English, because if Donghyuck could keep talking in his mother tongue without considering if you’d understand a single word, so could you. “We’re ticking and we’re just waiting for this shit to explode. And I can’t wait and watch myself burn, Donghyuck. I can’t.”
“Please speak slowly,” he pleaded in Korean. You don’t.
“This isn’t going to work,” you responded, still in your mother tongue. “Maybe this is a clear sign for us, Donghyuck. Goodbye.”
Mark finds you crying on floor of your living, your back leaning on the feet of the couch, two weeks after Donghyuck’s birthday.
The first week, you had convinced your friends you were fine and that you just needed time. Donghyuck’s been reaching out to everybody, and Mark, being the best friend he is, lies regarding your whereabouts every time Donghyuck visits.
You don’t know how many calls Donghyuck had tried to make and how many text messages he’d left because you had completely abandoned your phone for the last couple of weeks and only relied on your computer to check any e-mails from your professors.
“I’m sorry,” Mark says, and you feel a rush of relief when he talks to you in English. You’ve had enough of Korean and Korean men these days. “It sucks, man. I don’t even know what to say. I’m so fucking disappointed with Donghyuck.”
“Shouldn’t you be more disappointed with me?” you sniffle. “I should have listened to you. We were moving too fast.”
Mark shakes his head, pulling you closer so that your head is resting on his shoulder. “I couldn’t blame you. Donghyuck’s charming, and I genuinely thought he was in love with you. I mean, I could say is, because I really think he’s sorry about everything.”
“We didn’t even get to properly break up,” you cry. “Our flight back home is in like, two weeks. I was supposed to talk to him and decide what we’d do with our relationship. For his birthday, I made a stupid mixtape that he could keep in his car and a very expensive and fucking cheesy set of touch lamps I found online for whenever he would miss me. And I keep making stupid letters like a fucking idiot so I could leave him with a bunch of poorly constructed letters just so he knows how much I’ll fucking miss him.”
Mark stays silent as you sob your heart out.
“And can you believe I actually thought it’d work?” you say, exasperated. “I’m so fucking sorry to myself. I’m just glad it’s over before I did shit I’d regret later on.””
“Shit like?” Mark asks.
You sigh, sniffling and screaming internally because the tears would stop. “I was already looking into internships here. For my last semester in college. I had already decided to decline the internship they were offering back home—thank God I haven’t sent that e-mail from my drafts—and I’ve found really good companies here. And if I’m lucky, I was thinking of moving here after college.”
Mark clicks his tongue. “All because of Donghyuck?”
“Because he feels like home, Mark,” you reason out. “He’s warm, and I can’t believe I’m admitting this now, but I love him. I love him so fucking much.”
“Oh, Y/N.”
“And we would have been happy. I would’ve done everything I could,” you confess. “And this fucking language barrier will be the death of me, but I would’ve learned more. I’d be an expert by the end of the year. And now, this whole Karina thing made me realize how much more I need to know about him.”
Mark holds you closer as though holding you would make things better. “When we were kids,” he starts. “Whenever I told you stories about how much I miss all the people I had to leave behind whenever we had to move from one country to another, one state to another, you’d always tell me to never build houses out of people.”
You remember. You always admired how Mark could move from one place to another, his suitcase and the ghost of the friendships he made following his trail, and he’s always told you about the loneliness it comes with.
“You used to tell me shelters aren’t supposed to be made of arms wrapped around you on a cold night, or hands that hold you when you’re feeling lonely,” he continues. “And I can’t blame you, because humans are known not to follow their own advice. But I hope you find home in things you’d never lose.”
You nod. “I’m sorry for breaking rule number three.”
“You’ll get over him,” he assures. “If you decide to really end things here, I mean. I’m sure you can get over him. It’s easier to get over people when you don’t see him.”
You nod, “Let’s go home, Mark.”
“Back home?”
You smile. “Yes. Back home.”
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갈망 (galmang) - longing
It’s Giselle who picks you up from the airport.
You reunite like old friends, but Giselle really didn’t change that much. Even the weather didn’t change much. The same old. You wish you could say the same to yourself.
The flight to Vancouver was the most painful ten hours of your life, both literally and figuratively. It was hard watching your friends bid you goodbye, and you could tell they were dreading your departure as much as you and Mark were. Mark assures them you and him would save up to visit them again this year and as much as you’d wanted to stay, your student visa would allow you only six months. Mark promises he’d work on a tourist visa or whatever because despite being 100% ethnically Korean, but legally, he can’t just visit whenever he wants.
The pain from your breakup with Donghyuck is nothing compared to seeing Mark leave his friends again. You know how much they mean to him, and by extension, how much they mean to you regardless of what happened before your departure.
The head of student exchange program sends you warm greetings through text, followed by a series of messages from your friends and family. You’re glad Giselle had decided to pick you up from the airport, because you don’t think you’re in a good state to pretend like you’re okay, and Giselle knows.
Of course, she knows.
Giselle’s been your anchor during your last weeks in Seoul. Mark reckons that if anyone would understand you best during this time, it would be Giselle. After all, she’d gone through the same thing.
Like Mark, Giselle moved to Seoul with her parents for a few years. She had a similar experience with Mark, considering that her parents are constantly moving around—from Japan to South Korea then to Vancouver. Giselle was only in Seoul for two years before her parents moved back to Vancouver again, and in between those years she had met Kevin Moon, the love of her life.
They have been dating for almost four years now, two of those years, they dated long distance.
“How’d you make it work?” you had asked Giselle over Facetime once.
“It wasn’t perfect,” she admitted. “We broke up a couple of time because it was really difficult. And neither of us were willing to move for each other. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Kevin and I, we love each other. Truly we do. But I wouldn’t want to plant my entire life in Seoul for him. In the same manner, I don’t want him to move from Seoul to Vancouver for me when we both know for a fact that he’d be more successful in Korea than here. I guess, I don’t know, I don’t have an advice I could give you.”
“I’m not asking for advice,” you denied. “I mean. Donghyuck and I have only been dating for like, two weeks. I wouldn’t think that far at this time.”
Giselle had laughed at the other end of the line. “Let me tell you one thing, though.”
“Mhm.”
“It’s all a matter of choice,” she had said slowly, like she wanted to imprint the words to your brain. “Your heart isn’t made of diamonds. Your lungs aren’t made of steel. Somehow, inevitably, you’d grow tired—tired of timezones and how you never get the timing right, tired of not having someone to hug when you need it, tired of having to compromise—and it’s not an easy game.”
Giselle was smiling when she’d said the rest: “But Kevin is so worth it. I’ll grow tired of the baggage long distance comes with, but I don’t think I could live without him, you know? And it’s exaggerated, I know, and neither of us know what the future holds, but we’re choosing us. We chose to stay.”
It would have been beautiful, you think, if things worked out between you and Donghyuck. You would have written poems and prose in places about how you chose to stay. You would have learned about time zones and the best time to call, could have learned how to purchase the cheapest flight tickets to see each other, would have learned love and compromise together.
But you’re here, back in Vancouver, the voices of Mark and Giselle all blurred out from the backseat, and all you could think of is how much you miss Donghyuck.
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예기치 않은 (yegichi anh-eun) - unexpected
The head of the student exchange program asks you to write an article about your experience in Seoul and gives you until the fall semester begins, just in time for the university’s own publishing house to produce this year’s school paper. You’re stuck at two hundred words and a stupid title Mark came up with: “Learning Languages”—and you’re thinking about withdrawing from that spot in the newspaper but Mark keeps calling you a heartbroken loser and you’re not about to let Mark Lee get the last word.
You’re eating cereal and watching an episode of Suits to prepare to write again (yes, a 30-minute preparation time is needed for such task) when someone knocks at your door.
You know how, in movies, the main character would see things in slow motion as soon as the love of their life enters the scene? That’s exactly what happens when you open the door and find Lee Donghyuck standing outside your dorm room, a too-large for his body backpack on one shoulder and his heart upon his sleeve.
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미안해 (mianhae) – I’m sorry | 사랑해 (saranghae) – I love you
“I’m sorry,” are the first words that Lee Donghyuck comes up with, and truthfully are the words you needed to hear from him. He says it in his mother tongue and you feel his heart in his voice.
“Mark?” you ask, knowing full well it’s Mark who helped him.
“Yes but no,” he answers. “He said he’d only give me your address but he’s not picking me up or helping me. My flight landed literally six hours ago and I’ve been looking for you since.”
Donghyuck sits across you on the small table you own inside your small room. His backpack is sitting on his feet and his shoulders are slumped. Donghyuck allows himself to look small compared to all the times you were with him.
“Y-you look good,” he comments, eyes glued on you. “I’m glad you’re healthy, at least.”
“You, too,” you mumble. “Tea? Coffee?”
“Water would be fine, please and thank you.” You reach over to hand him a bottle. “And who are you kidding? I look awful.”
He does. He looks exactly what he said he had done to get here. Look for you for six hours after a ten-hour flight from Incheon. Donghyuck downs the bottle of water. Poor guy probably hasn’t eaten.
“Why are you here, Donghyuck?” you ask as soon as he’s done drinking.
Donghyuck clears his throat. “I don’t really know what I want out of this trip.”
You keep your arms crossed over your chest.
“And I’m not about to beg you to take me back,” he continues. “I just wanted to explain. I just want you to know what happened. I can live without you, but I can’t live with you thinking I had betrayed you.”
“Donghyuck, there’s really no need to explain. Renjun has told Mark all I needed to know.”
“No, let me say it please. I spent a fortune to come here, and I’m going to make you listen if it’s the last thing I’d do. After this, I’ll leave. I have a ticket back home tomorrow, and I’ll leave.”
Ridiculous. Who would spend a fortune on a set of roundtrip tickets only to leave a day after? Of course, only Lee Donghyuck.
“Karina and I go way back,” he says. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. And she’s not someone I could just get rid of just because our relationship didn’t work out. We’re better off as friends, and that’s a fact we had come to learn when we tried dating. And it was painful, but I couldn’t lose her just because we didn’t know how to date, how to play boyfriend and girlfriend to each other. That’s the first thing I need you to understand.”
“Like I don’t know that already?” you remark sarcastically.
“Karina is a part of me.” Shit’s painful.
“But now like how you are a part of me.”
Oh.
“She’s my best friend, almost like a sister now, and my parents care about her,” he continues. “It was a mistake that we even tried to date just so we could relate to everyone dating everybody. It almost ruined us, and Karina and I, we can’t afford to lose each other just because of that. The person who I am now, part of it is because of Karina. But Y/N, the person I’m about to become, I want it to be because of you.”
He clears his throat again. You look at the bottle of water he finished drinking because you really can’t look at Donghyuck now. Not when he’s vulnerable and out in the open. Not when he’s exactly the way he was when you fell in love with him.
“And I had plans. For the long run,” he says like a promise. “I had started looking up how to get a tourist visa to Canada and how to get you a tourist visa to Korea. I’ve been saving all my allowances and the money I’ve been earning from work so I could book a ticket to Vancouver for the summer and spend it with you. And I was supposed to tell Mom, but I haven’t had the chance yet—that one I have no excuse for. But the timing was off and she met you before I could tell her. She had no idea and she’s genuinely sorry she made it seem like she wanted me to end up with Karina. If she had known I was already in love with someone else, she wouldn’t have said that in front of you. She would have loved you.”
Donghyuck pauses. You look up to see him wiping his tears from his cheeks. “And I’m sorry that the timing didn’t go well for us, but I promise you I had plans. I just didn’t want to spend the rest of your weeks in Seoul thinking about you being gone as soon as the semester is over. I wanted to seize the moments with you and make you—I wanted to make you feel that I love you.”
Your breath hitches. Donghyuck locks eyes with you.
“I love you. I love you and I’m so sorry that I made you feel like I didn’t,” he confesses, bursting into tears and you do, too. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t try hard enough to make you stay. I’m so sorry that I talked to fast that time I finally got you to answer my call; I should’ve explained more calmly. I’m so sorry that we’re here, in Vancouver, hearts broken. But I love you, and I wish I could say all of these in English if that’s what would make you believe it’s real and it’s true.”
But he doesn’t have to.
“I love you,” you say in your mother tongue before switching to Korean. “I love you. And I know you love me. And I’m so sorry for jumping to conclusions and not trying hard enough. Just like you, I had plans to. For the long run. And I can live without you, too, but I can’t live without you knowing how much I love you.”
Donghyuck giggles through his tears and reaches out both hands to wipe off yours. “Let’s not live without each other.”
It’s him to moves, standing a little, so he could kiss you.
The kiss says everything the language barrier can’t. I love you. I missed you. I’m sorry. This is everything I’ve ever wanted. You are everything I’ve ever wanted.
Donghyuck spends the night tracing your body with his mouth like he’s writing a love song and he needs to taste you first before he could write the first melody. You spend the night underneath Donghyuck’s love, whispering his name like praise, taking, taking, taking everything he’s giving you.
You wake up to arms around you and the love of your life kissing the back of your neck. You and him spend the entire day (or at least, the seven hours he had until he had to take the flight back home) talking about your plans and making a list of thing you have to talk about over the phone, but today, you’re taking him out on a date under the warm, sunny skies of Vancouver.
And you do. You and Donghyuck have the best day ever together. Donghyuck gives you the other pair of the touch lamp you’d given to him as a birthday present—you’d forgotten you left it when you ran off; you were supposed to watch him open it so you could show him how it works—and makes you promise to touch the lamp whenever you missed him. He thanks you for the mixtape and confesses he cries whenever he plays it inside his car. He also gives you your small notebook of learning languages back (because you had dramatically left it to Renjun before you boarded the plane), saying you’d need it again.
Mark refused to come because he wants you and Donghyuck to talk and spend the day creating a game plan to make your relationship work. At the end of the hours you had with him, you don’t come up with a solid game plan.
Because Giselle was right, after all, it all comes down to the choices you make. There was no formula on how a long-distance relationship would work. Neither you nor Donghyuck had survived one, but you knew one thing:
Today, you and Donghyuck choose each other.
It’s only the beginning, it seems.
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The sun is out and bright when Donghyuck boards the plane.
It’s a lot warmer than the rest of the year, but you don’t really mind.
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xmy-love-to-youx · 6 months
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Pregnancy /w Simon 'Ghost' Riley
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When you told your husband that you were expecting a baby, even with his mask on you could see the color drain from his face.
To anyone that knows him, knows that his most of the time silent but this silence between you both was something new. You couldn't tell if he was happy or not.
As time passed by, anxiety and fear gripped your heart and tears threatened to fall from your eyes. Children were a topic you haven't talked about yet, Simon made it clear he doesn't want children but you two never considered pregnancy a possibility even though you are on birth control.
You rushed to the bedroom, leaving Simon alone in the living room. He was silent, his mind was silent. The only sound that was heard was your muffled crying from the bedroom.
It wasn't long until he made his way to you, the sight of you curled up under the blankets, crying, broke his heart in a way he never knew was possible. He layed himself behind you and held you tightly against him.
He didn't know how to comfort you so he stayed silent and just held your petite body against his rough and larger body.
From that moment on, he stuck to your side. Still processing that you are carrying his baby, he would just stare at your belly. His battling internally with himself. One part wants to run away and the other is telling him to stay and fulfill his duties not just as a husband but as a soon to be father too.
With each month that passes by, he watches your belly expand and it's slowly became clear to him that the baby is a symbol of your love. He was first awkward about touching your pregnant belly.
"Can I?" he asks, his hands glued to the side of his body.
"Yes" you responded with your usual bright smile.
He hesitated and his eyes bounced around the room. You reached for his hand and placed his hand on the curve of your belly and just like that, he instantly fell in love.
Now he talks to his unborn child and gently pokes around just to get the baby to move, a chuckle leaves his lips when he sees the baby push against the inside.
"I can't wait to meet you"
"You know you and your mother are the best things that ever happened to me"
"You have a badass mother, you know that?"
"I'm going to protect you"
His the kind of guy who doesn't want to know the gender until the baby is born. He definitely spends every second with you during the pregnancy. Soap will definitely tease him for it but he doesn't care. His in love with his wife and his unborn baby and wants to be there all the time.
He definitely stops you from being on your feet for too long. He'll gently rush you out of the kitchen and into a chair. He will massage your feet and back without question.
Towards the end of the pregnancy, he was in pain, it's not physically pain. He's heart breaks when you are uncomfortable all the time, the back pains and the intense hormones.
When it was time to give birth, he was panicking more than his wife that's about to birth a tiny human. His with you every step of the way until it came time to push out the baby.
He held your hand and whispered words of encouragement to you, he thought he had everything under control until he peeked and saw his baby wiggling thier way out of you. His eyes widened with shock and he looked at you with those eyes. That's when he realized that your in more pain that it seems.
He snapped to reality when he heard his baby cry for the first time. It was like he spaced out as realization kicked in.
His a father.
When he held that tiny human in his arms, the tears just kept pouring from his eyes and he couldn't stop it. When he heard that his has a baby girl, he protectively held her close to him. He watched her sleep on his chest, skin to skin contact was important to him as he spoke gently to her.
"My little princess"
"My sweet little angel"
"Daddy's little girl"
"I'm gonna spoil you, ya? I bet you'd love that"
Since her birth, his been finding excuses to hold her. Throughout his whole life, he was traumatized and hurt, he had to be cold to protect himself but since you and your baby entered his life. He had a reason to fight, he had a reason to live.
Now, he looks at you with so much love in his eyes. You are his girls and he will always love you.
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Please buy me Ko-fi to support me ❤
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justauthoring · 3 months
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the trees told me about you.
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the trees whisper to you and gojo thinks that makes you special.
a/n: i just started watching frieren and i NEEDED something fantasy okay???? also, i love him <3
pairing: prince!gojo satoru x f!elf!reader
The trees whisper to you.
Whisper words that ghost past your ears and leave your eyes sparkling with warmth, staring at the twinkling green leafs that bristle in the wind. 
No one else can hear them, except for you. 
Some think you're mad, others just don’t like you cause you’re different – either way, you’ve long ago learned not to care.
Because the trees speak to you, tell you secrets of the world and bring you the love you’ve never felt elsewhere. They don’t judge you because you look different, and they make you feel included – loved.
So even though you’re glared at and cruel words are whispered behind your back;
She’s not right. Spending her days talking to trees…
They say her parents abandoned her when she was young… you don’t have to wonder why.
What a lonely life… but no one wants to talk to a girl who thinks trees speak.
You’ve learned that there’s no point worrying and no point in trying to change their minds. 
A life of solitude is one you’ve accepted for yourself. And besides, you don’t feel all that alone in the first, shrouded by trees, protected from the small, the feeling of the dirt and grass and earth beneath your fingers as you smile and laugh and talk.
Yeah, you don’t feel alone at all.
At least, until you meet him.
-
“You know they all think you’re insane, right?”
A moment ago, you’d been positive you’d been alone. You hadn’t heard him walk up, the crunch of his footsteps along the forest floor or even the rustling of his clothing; so when you hear his voice, so much louder, harsher, sharper than the voices that whisper in your ears, it makes you jump.
You’re startled, incredibly so. You lose your footing beneath you, your bum hitting the ground harshly as you turn your head to face the voice, worrying just who it was that had snuck up on you.
It’s a boy. Roughly your age, or at least you assume so. He’s tall. Even though you’re on the ground, you know he’d tower over you. He’s got bright white hair that shifts to a purple hue when the sun hits him just right. And his eyes are a striking blue that rivals even the sky and unlike anything you’ve ever seen.
You’d lived in your small village all your life and you’re positive you’ve never seen this boy before.
“Who… who are you?” Your words come out shakier than you want but then again, you’re not all that accustomed to speaking to others. Most of your time is spent listening… and even you know there’s a difference between listening to trees and real people. You’ve never had someone speak so directly to you before – most of the time, they opt for whispering behind your back even though both you and them are aware you can hear them.
Still, you force yourself to speak; “what are you doing here?”
He’s grinning. Ear to ear. And it’s wide and it’s bright and there’s a twinkle in his eyes that seems some sort of mischievous, yet, the smile feels real and genuine and almost… kind(?).
Then, he’s crouching, moving so he’s more level to you and his head tilts to the right. “Gojo Satoru,” he introduces, saying his name with pride. “And I am going for a light stroll in the woods.”
Gojo Satoru…
Gojo…
That’s… that’s last the name of the king—
Your eyes widen, instantly shifting to meet his gaze while he continues to just smile at you, bright and happy, hands clasped in front of him without a care in the world. You take in his clothes properly then, the detailing and the quality of the fabric, hemmed with laces – clothes you’ve never even had half enough coin to buy.
Clothes you’d never be able to buy.
You’d heard the King had a son but you’d never seen him or any drawings of him either.
A boy that looks like this though? Looks like he could be the King’s son.
“I ventured through the village beforehand,” he gestures over his shoulder. “You are not well-liked.” 
You blink out of your daze, frowning at his words.
Shifting, you move so you’re sitting straighter, straightening out your blouse as you glare at him. “That’s rather rude.”
He shrugs, still grinning. “You didn’t deny it though.”
And you frown because you know he’s right.
“Okay, so, what’s the King’s son doing taking a stroll in the woods well outside of the castle grounds?”  
He pauses, raising a brow; “so you did recognize me…” He hums lightly, pointing at you. 
You nod; “yes, I did.”
You’re well aware that your lack of respect for the King’s son could get you arrested, or worse. But, you don't care all that much. You figure that Gojo would’ve done something by now if he was really bothered by it, and… well, he’s the one who snuck up on you in the first place.
Laughing lightly, Gojo shrugs; “couldn’t stand being there anymore.”
You raise a brow; “the castle?”
He nods. “It’s so… stuffy! Gods, no one knows how to have any fun in there! And I'm constantly getting reprimanded for trying to liven the place up a little.” His words are dramatic, doubled by his actions as he wildly waves his hands around, rolling his eyes as he sulks. “You’d think royalty, with all the money we have, would know how to make things at least a little exciting… but no! They’re dreadfully boring.”
He finishes his rambling with a loud huff, and a second passes before you burst out in laughter.
Gojo blinks at you, once, twice, stunned before he’s grinning once more.
“That’s funny?” He asks, watching you amusedly.
Clutching at your stomach, you shake your head; “sorry,” you gasp. “I just never expected the King’s son to be so… un-princely?”
Chuckling, Gojo’s eyes trail your figure as you continue to laugh; “no?”
“No,” you snort, calming yourself down. Then, a second later, you glance at him; “so you ran away?”
“For now,” he agrees. “And you?”
You blink; “what about me?”
“What are you doing here?”
Your smile fades. “Well… you heard.”
“So, you really do talk to trees?”
You pause, bewildered. “You believe me?”
“Why would you lie?”
And it’s the first time you’ve heard someone say that to you… because, yes, why would you lie? Why would you make all this up?
And yet he’s the first one who believes you.
“I’ve never seen someone like you before you, you know,” he shuffles closer and your breath halts, eyeing him as he leans in. “I thought you all died out.”
Subconsciously, your fingers move to touch the tip of your pointy ears that’s hidden by your hair. “We did,” you whisper, “it’s just me.”
Resting his head on his crossed arms, Gojo fidgets in the spot. “That’s unfortunate.”
You hum, not sure how else to respond. It was unfortunate and sad, but no one else had ever seemed to think so. At least not anyone in your village. Scorned and judged because of your smaller stature and your pointy ears… you were a freak amongst humans in your village and they constantly liked to remind you of the fact.
“You think the trees talk to you because you’re different?”
Wide eyed, you turn to Gojo. “What?”
“I don’t hear them,” he frowns, and he strains his ear, cupping it for emphasis as if that’ll help. “And I’m royalty. They should talk to me… but they don’t. I bet it’s because you’re an elf. Makes you extra special then.”
Lips parting, you glance around, taking in the trees, hearing the whispers that have softened, before turning back to his blue eyes. “More special than the prince?”
He smirks; “I guess,” he obliges, chuckling. “Just this once.”
You smile. A real, genuine smile.
“You shouldn’t hide them, either.”
“Hm?”
“Your ears,” he explains, reaching forward. You barely have time to react before he’s brushing back your hair, the tips of his fingers brushing against the skin of your ears as he tucks the hair behind, revealing your insecurity to his eyes. He doesn’t look away, and panicked, you watch him, overwhelmed by how close he suddenly is, breath stuck in the back of your throat.
But he doesn’t look disgusted or freaked out.
He looks… amazed.
“You shouldn’t hide them,” his gaze shifts back to yours, grinning again but this time it’s softer, more demure. “They’re what make you you.”
“They make me look strange. Different,” you mumble to yourself, lowering your gaze as you attempt to pull your hair back out from behind your ear.
Gojo grabs your wrist, small in his own grasp, halting your movements.
You turn to him with parted lips.
“No,” he whispers and it’s the softest he’s sounded, but yet, it’s still so confident. Like he doesn’t doubt a single word he says. “No, they make you special.”
You stare back at him, stunned. But you don’t pull away and you don’t move. You like it, having him this close. This boy who you've just met. This boy who is the King’s son. The prince. Next in line for the throne.
This boy who’s made you feel more normal than you ever have your entire life.
But then he’s pulling away, despite the disappointment that burns through you, standing up straight as you crane your head up to look at him. He’s grinning, ear to ear again, as he takes small steps back.
“I should go,” he explains, laughing. “My father is probably throwing a fit. But, come back tomorrow okay?”
You raise a brow, tilting your head in wonder.
He just laughs.
“I plan to run away again.” 
Is all he says and then he’s turning, offering you a short wave before disappearing through the thick of the trees, leaving you to yourself and the whispers.
You stare at the place he left, undeniably grinning from ear to ear yourself now.
“Yes,” you nod to the whispers. “I think I like him too.”
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phoward89 · 1 month
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Based on this ask
Dark!Coriolanus, Delulu!Coriolanus, StepDaddy!Coriolanus, DaddyCoriolanus
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You've known Coriolanus Snow ever since you were kids. Your fathers were serving in the war together, in 12, and you both lived in the same building. Hell, he was the one you ran to when an officer came to your door with the heartbreaking news that your father was killed deep in the woods of District 12 by rebels alongside General Crassus Snow.
Coriolanus’ father.
Coriolanus, despite being a young orphan boy, hugged you and tried to give you comfort. He told you that he'd be your best friend forever.
God, you both were 8 when that happened.
Fast forward 13 years and now, at age 21, you’re finding yourself running to his door once again over another life change.
This time though, you’re going to him to make an announcement. An announcement that would change your friendship. One that he'd most likely view as scandalous.
But you had to tell him before he found out from gossip.
When the elevator doors dinged open, you stepped out onto the 12th floor. Taking a deep breath, you closed the distance between you and the penthouse door.
You prayed that he wouldn't push you away after your announcement.
He was the only real friend you had left after Sejanus' death. It'll kill you if Coryo cuts ties with you because of the situation you're in.
Even though you were afraid of his reaction to your news, you balled your hand up into a fist and quickly knocked on the door. God, you were so nervous to see him. Maybe you should just tell him your news in the doorway and then run off in shame?
Yea, that's what you should do. No way in hell is Coriolanus Snow, an assistant game maker to Dr. Gaul and a University student only a year away from graduating with degrees in both military strategies and political science, going to stick by your side once you tell him your scandalous news. What you've got to tell him is a big no no in proper Capitol society.
God, he'll probably just call you a whore and turn you away once he hears it.
The door opened, revealing Coriolanus standing in the doorway. A wide smile cracked his face open as his icy blue eyes took in your presence. “Darling, I wasn't expecting a visit from you today.” Reaching for your hand, he said, “Come in, we'll have tea with Grandma'am.”
You snatched your hand away from him before his long fingers could grasp it. Your eyes fell to study his floor shines (damn, you never realize how big his shoes- well his feet, were til now. Like damn…), as you told him, “I can't stay for tea. I only came by to tell you something; then leave.”
“Surely you can come inside and sit with me. Grandma’am adores you and whatever you have to tell me, you can do it while we have tea.”
“Coryo, I can't.” You heavily sighed.
Coriolanus furrowed his brows, your words making him concerned. You've never declined the invite to come in and have tea before. Usually you'd just walk on in, shoulders brushing by his, whenever you came over. The fact that you refused to move an inch, never made any motion to come inside, concerned him.
Instantly, he was placing a comforting hand on your shoulder and tilting your chin up with his knuckles. Your worried eyes meet his baby blues. Baby blues that searched the windows of your soul for answers on why you were acting so unlike yourself.
Even tho he'd never admit it, Coriolanus was worried. The way you were acting was so unlike you; it scared him.“Y/N, what's wrong? What aren't you telling me?”
“I'm pregnant.” You told your best friend, breath shaky, afraid that he'd view you with the same stigma and shame that Capitol citizens viewed unwed mothers with.
You're pregnant?
Pregnant!
Coriolanus couldn't believe his ears. How did this happen? Okay, he knows how it happened. But he just didn't know that you were fucking somebody.
How could have Coriolanus missed the fact that you were seeing somebody; fucking somebody? Weren't people so disgustingly happy and flighty when they were young and in love? When they were having their innocence stripped away?
And then another thought struck him. One that made his blood boil. You had no reason to tell him that you were knocked up (since in the Capitol accidental unwed pregnancies always led to quick weddings) unless whoever got you in trouble abandoned you; forsaken and tricked you.
Had betrayed you.
And now you need your Coryo to fix everything; make everything all better.
“Who do I need to threaten?” The platinum blonde asked you, dead ass, and it took you by surprise.
You were expecting Coryo to be upset with you, disgusted even, but you weren't expecting him to ask who the baby daddy was and to offer to threaten them. Yea…That took you off guard.
“Coryo, you don't need to do that.”
“Of course I need to do that.” Coriolanus simply said. He rubbed your shoulders in a comforting manner while telling you, “Whoever got you into your delicate condition buttered you up with lies only to use you and turn their back on you. They betrayed you; broke your heart and I'm going to make them pay.”
“Coriolanus, no.” You shook your head. “You're not going to go hunting down my ex to maim him because he's not ready to be tied down.”
“Yes, I'm going to do exactly that because that scoundrel knocked you up and ran away from his responsibilities. He's living his life, without any second thoughts of you, while you're at risk of social damnation.”
“And here I thought you'd send me away and call me a whore, but instead you want to confront Livinius.” You scoffed incredulously.
“Livinius? As in Livia Cardew’s older brother, Livinius Cardew?” Coriolanus asked, his baritone full of disgust, as his icy blue eyes narrowed and turned cold.
Oh shit…did you just accidentally tell Coryo that Vinny’s the one that knocked you up? Yea…you did…
“I'm going to kill him.” Coryo swore as steam literally came out of his ears. He was so mad it wasn't even funny.
Hoping to calm him down, you placed your hands on his chest. “Coryo, please don't. Just leave it alone.”
Locking his eyes with yours, Coryo asked, “Do you love him?”
Did you love Livinius? No, you didn't. You only went out with him because your mother pushed you to. Your mother who had disowned you once you told her that you're pregnant. You did care about Vinny tho, even if you didn't love him.
“No.” You shook your head. “I don't love him, but I was with him long enough to care.”
Coriolanus was relieved that you didn't love Livinius, but he thought you were foolish for still caring about him. He didn't want you to feel worse than you did, so he gave you the well meaning advice of, “Well, stop caring about him because he surely doesn't care about you.”
You were feeling a bit overwhelmed emotionally (blame it on the hormones) so you told your best friend, “Thank you for not turning me away, but I think I better go now.”
“I know how much of a bitch Helenium can be. Where are you staying?”
“Coryo…” You heavily sighed, not wanting to get into things with him about your mother kicking you out and disowning you.
“Jesus, she kicked you out, didn't she?” Coriolanus concluded with bitterness in his voice.
“Yea.” You confirmed with a nod. “I've been staying at a hotel near the rail station for now. It's just until I can get a job and find an apartment.”
“You're pregnant, Y/N. You don't need to stress about working long hours in retail and finding some shithole flat to stay warm in.” The platinum blonde said, only to push his apartment door open as wide as it'd go. Ushering you in with a large hand on your shoulder, he said, “Come on, you’re staying with me.”
“Coryo, you don't need to put me up. Really, I'm fine staying at the hotel until I figure things out.” You told him, as he closed the door behind you.
Turning you around to look at him, he told you, “I know that I don't need to do anything, but I want you to stay with me because you're my best friend. It's always been my job to protect you; keep you safe, Y/N.”
How could you argue with that? He was only looking out for you. Was only doing what he's always done for you, which was to try and protect you.
You let out a heavy sigh, only to tell him, “Okay, but it'll only be temporary. I promise, I'll figure something out.”
“You don't need to figure something out because I said you're staying with me. And don't worry about the expenses, I'm more than capable of handling it.”
“Okay.” You gave in, knowing fighting your best friend (who was as stubborn as a mule) on livng with him was a losing battle. “But, please, don't tell Grandma’am yet. I can't bare to see her disappointment at me about once she finds out.” You told Coriolanus while letting him usher you out of the entrance hall.
“Okay, we won't tell Grandma’am until you're ready.” Coriolanus agreed to your request before the living room came into view.
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“I still can't believe you have a car.” You told Coriolanus as he opened the passanger’s side door of his black luxury sedan for you. The car looked imported, but you weren't sure since you didn't know much about cars. Well, other than how to sit in them that is.
“I told you, darling, I’ve got money now.” Coriolanus told you, a smug smirk painted on his lush lips, before shutting the door and rounding the car to the driver's side. He opened the door and took his seat behind the wheel. “So, do you have a lot of things at the motel?”
“No.” You shook your head as your best friend cranked the car engine to life. “Just a cardboard box of stuff and a couple trash bags of clothes.” You told him as he pulled out of the parking lot behind the Corso apartments.
“You have your clothes in garbage bags!?” Coriolanus exclaimed, giving you a scandalous look. “Little dove, you should've came to me as soon as Helenium kicked you out. I would've moved your things from the 8th floor to the 12th.”
“I didn't come to you right away because my mother gave me enough money to rent a hotel room for a few weeks. I had things under control; I just came over today to tell you about my pregnancy so you wouldn't find out from gossip.”
“Y/N, you don't have things under control. You're living in a one star hotel by the Panem Rail station, you're living out of trash bags, and you're unemployed.”
“Corio-” You began, only for your bestfriend to cut you off with, “Don't, Y/N, don't you dare try to convince me that you're okay because I know you're not.” He switched lanes (without using his blinkers, which is a big no no), while telling you, “You need my help and I'm in the position to give it to you. The Plinths, after losing Sejanus, have made me their heir and are very generous to me and my family.” His icy blue eyes looked between you and the road, only to say, “I'm not that poor boy giving you most of his share of cabbage and broth after letting you sleep over. I'm able to help you; support you the way you need now.”
“I know, but I don't want to be dependent on you.” What you left out was that you didn't want him taking care of a baby that wasn't his problem. He had the world at his fingertips, he didn't need his best friend's scandal holding him back.
“You're not dependent on me, darling. We're bestfriends and I want to help you.” Coriolanus told you while turning a corner and nearly clipping a car.
Oh hell, how did he even pass his driver's test? He drives like a maniac.
Oh, wait a minute, Strabo Plinth probably just paid off the DMV to give Coryo his license.
Not wanting to talk to your bestfriend anymore, you leaned forward and turned on the car’s radio. You fiddled with the tuner until you landed on a station you liked.
The music filled the atmosphere for maybe a minute or so before Coriolanus turned it off. Looking between you and the road, he said, “Look, Y/N, I know how it is to be manipulated and used by someone you love. To give them everything only for it not to be enough; for them to turn on you and betray you.” He took one of his hands off the wheel, only to grab yours and say, “Darling, you're my bestfriend and the only person who's truly ever been by my side genuinely; not because you want to use me for something. You mean a lot to me and I just want to help you because I know how stupid and foolish you feel right now after getting your heart broken by Livinius.”
You just nodded and squeaked out, “Okay.” You really didn't feel like talking about this stuff right now.
And when did Coriolanus become somebody that talked about feelings? For as long as you've known him he always ran away from feelings.
What you didn't know is that Coryo's been harboring a decade-long crush on you. A crush he never acted on because he was afraid of ruining your friendship. Afraid that you'd push him away for being too obsessive (he knows how he can be with his things). So, he just pushed his feelings for you onto the prettiest face he saw (Lucy Gray once he became her mentor). And when he came back to the Capitol, he threw himself into his studies and interning with Dr. Gaul that he only saw you occasionally.
Now he wishes he would've just acted on his feelings for you, then your child would be his. But, he was going to fix everything and make it all better. Starting by getting rid of Livinius Cardew.
“Just let me handle everything for you, my little dove.” Coryo said while pulling into the parking lot of your hotel.
A run down hotel right next to the rail station. The flashing sign reading ‘Vacancy’ looked about to burn out. The tall blue sign next to the hotel reading Motel 6 seemed to mock you as Coryo asked, “What room in this pre-Panem horror's yours?”
“205.” You simply said as he pulled into an empty parking spot.
He cut the cars engine and pocketed his keys, only to hold his hand out. “Key.” Was the simple word he said.
You grabbed your bag from the floor and fished your room keys out. When you dropped them into his palm, he cringed.
They were brass keys, not a key card like the nicer hotels had. Coriolanus didn't say a word, but the disgusted look on his face was enough to know that he didn't approve of your choice of room. Opening his door, he said, “I won't be long, wait here.”.
You just nodded, watching as he got out of the car and went to get your things.
How did you end up here, you don't know. You went to see Coryo earlier to tell him about that baby, you never meant for him to take you in. To drag you to your hotel to get your things. It feels like everything escalated so quickly and you don't know how to feel about it.
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After collecting your things, Coryo brought you back to his penthouse and helped you get settled in the guest room.
At first staying with the platinum blonde man was hard, since you felt guilty about him taking care of you, but eventually after a few weeks you got over it.
Truthfully, it was nice spending time with your best friend (that you haven't seen in a while) and his Grandma'am, who you adored. You wish that Tigris, Coryo's cousin, was around more. But since Coryo helped her get a shop and become a stylist for the games, she moved out and into a luxurious condo that was located above her boutique.
But, unknown to you, in the last few weeks you've been living in the Snow penthouse, Coriolanus has been viewing you as more than his best friend. He, for some reason, has started viewing you as his girl. And that baby you're carrying, well…he's starting to view it as his child.
Especially when you came home from an appointment with the first printed scan of the baby. You waited until Grandma'am was tucked in bed before asking Coriolanus if he wanted to see the scan. You were scared he'd say no, but you asked because you wanted to share it with somebody.
You wanted somebody to be your partner during this time, this pregnancy, even if that someone was your best friend.
Was Coriolanus Snow.
Turns out that you had nothing to be scared of since Coryo flashed you a genuine smile and told you that he'd be honored to see the printouts of your first ultrasound scan.
You had a couple of copies, so you gave him one. And when you gave it to him, standing nervously in his room, next to him as he sat at his desk, he smiled and ran his thumb over the tiny bean shaped baby (well fetus) in the scan. “How far along are you, little dove?” Coriolanus asked, never taking his eyes off of the piece of paper in his large hand.
Going over to the edge of his bed and sitting down, you explained, “I’m a few days away from being 9 weeks. Dr. Wellock says I'm due during the summer, in mid-June.”
The platinum blonde ran a hand thru his hair while grumbling, “Of course, baby's due when I'll be at my busiest preparing for the games.”
“I'm sure I’ll be on my feet by then, Coryo. Don't worry about it, the baby's not coming for another 7 months.”
But Coryo had to worry about it. He didn't want to be so busy with helping Dr.Gaul prepare for the games come mid-June that he misses out on the birth of his first born. And in his mind you were carrying his first born. Just staring at that baby, no bigger then a bean, on the print out he was holding made something paternal (and delusional) snap in his head like a rubber band. Now, after seeing that scan printout, he was convinced that your baby was his.
Coriolanus has never fucked you (ever), but he's convinced himself that the baby's his. That you're his perfect, innocent, little dove. His darling rose of a best friend. His baby girl. So that the baby you carry has to be his too.
The little tiny baby had a strong heartbeat and stats according to the print out, so he knew it was his.
His, his, his.
“You and the baby are staying here with me, Y/N. And that's final.”
“Okay.”, You agreed, only because you knew that you'd need help with a newborn. Who were you to turn away your best friend's help. Coriolanus cares deeply for you; wanted to make sure that you and the baby had the things you deserved. You couldn't fault him for that.
If only it was that simple, that innocent.
But it wasn't.
No.
Somewhere in the platinum blonde's head wires got crossed and he blew a fuse. He thinks the baby's his, and since he thinks that he'll never let you or the baby leave his penthouse.
Ever.
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Nearly 3 months into living with Coryo, he came home one evening hunched over; coughing. The handkerchief he was coughing into was stained with blood. He staggered to his room, ignoring the startled cries and pleas from you and Grandma'am.
Turning to the worried old woman, dressed in her jewels and bright tunic, you assured her, “I’ll go check on Coryo.”
“Oh, should I call that maid, the Plinth woman, to put on a pot of tea for our Coriolanus?” Grandma'am asked as you rose from your seat.
When will Grandma’am realize that Ma Plinth (who lives on the 11th floor) isn't the maid? Ma Plinth just happens to be the mother of your late friend, Sejanus, and is just a warm, kind person who cleans the penthouse a few times a week and spends time with Grandma'am (and watches her when Coryo has to go somewhere for a long period of time or when you have appointments). Is Grandma’am’s memory, her senses fading that quickly? You know she can be a bit…much, sometimes- but still, is her memory getting worse?
“No.” You shook your head. Lightly patting her hand, you said, “I'll put some on if he wants it.”
Grandma'am just nodded, watching you as you left the main room and went down the hall towards Coriolanus’ room.
You knocked once on his bedroom door before opening it and peeking your head inside. “Coryo, are you okay?” You asked, seeing that he was sprawled out on his side, nearly falling over the edge of the bed, while bloodily hacking into his handkerchief.
Looking up at you, icy blue eyes full of pain, he croaked, “I’ll be fine, Y/N.”
You didn't know if you believed him or not. He didn't look like he'd be fine. Sighing, you entered the room and went over to him. “What’s wrong, Coriolanus?” You asked, getting into the bed with him and pushing a stray sweaty curl that got loose from its slick back style, away from his face.
“Nothing, just suppose it's something I drank.
“Something you drank?”
“I had tea with Livinius, after my work with Dr. Gaul today, to speak with him about you and the baby. The tea must've been bad because he dropped dead at the tea room and I'm sick.”
“Coriolanus, what did you do?” You asked, knowing deep down that bad tea doesn't kill people and make them jack up blood. That your best friend had a hand in whatever happened.
“I didn't do anything, darling.” Denied the platinum blonde, clutching his handkerchief as he welt blood tickling the back of his throat.
“Don't lie to me, Coryo. Please, as my best friend you owe me the truth.”
Coryo let out a string of loud, bloody coughs; staining his handkerchief and soaking it crimson. Lifting his head up off his pillow and looking at you from over his shoulder he told you, “I killed him for us and the baby.”
“What? Why?” You gasped, eyes wide, searching for answers.
“Livinius offered to give me money for you to get rid of our mistake, before you got too far along. I wasn't going to let him get away with that, so I poisoned him.” Coriolanus told you, body wracked with uncontrollable coughs. Coughs that made him spit up thick spools of blood.
“Coryo, are you insane? Just because he wanted me to get an abortion doesn't mean you had to poison him.”
“He was dangerous to us, little dove. He heard you moved in with me and invited me out for tea to discuss your condition and I wasn't going to let him threaten our baby and get away with it.”
You blinked as you took in his words. Our baby. Our baby as in his and your baby. Not your baby, but ours. He considered your baby his despite the fact that you've never fucked him, ever, in your entire life.
What the hell's wrong with him? Has he lost it? Was he delusional?
What the hell?
“Just hold me, baby. Please, just hold me.” Coryo asked between bloody coughs that had him gagging in pain.
You were beyond shocked. Your best friend had murdered your ex with poison and had inadvertently poisoned himself to the point that he's currently knocking on heaven’s door right now. And all because he had some delusion that your baby, your baby that was fathered by the man that he just murdered, was his.
How do you deal with this? Is there any way to deal with this?
Sighing, you decided to give into Coryo's request. He killed your ex, Vinny, to keep the baby safe. A baby he’s convinced is his. But, he did it with good intentions.
They say hell is paved with good intentions.
So…
You held him as his body shook and he coughed up a concerning amount of blood. He was always there for you, the least you could do was be here for Coriolanus. His baby blues had so much pain swimming in them. You couldn't imagine how bad he felt right now as his body was fighting itself.
“You're not going to die, are you, Coryo?” You asked, afraid that you'd lose him because of a rash decision he made.
“No.” Coryo weakly shook his head. Slowly turning around, so that he could comfortably rest his head on your chest, he told you, “I'm partially immune to this poison; I'll just be sick for a few days. He cleared his throat, fighting off a cough, and placed his hand on your belly. “You're slowly starting to get a tiny bump.” His baritone was full of pride as he told you, “I think we should stop hiding from the stigma of being unwed parents and just tell Grandma'am that she's going to be a Great-Grandma’am.”
“She's going to insist that we get married, Coryo.” You pointed out, hoping that he'd drop the notion of telling Grandma’am. You're certain that he's not ready to settle down yet.
If he was, wouldn't he have somebody by now?
Little did you know that he did have somebody.
He has you.
And that's why, in between coughing up blood, he told you, “I can convince Grandma’am that we'll have to wait until the baby’s born to have the wedding, so that you’ll be able to fit into your dress and drink celebratory champagne at the reception.”
And those words cemented that fact that your best friend was delusional. He didn't just want to raise your baby as his own, but wanted to marry you too.
Then, as if that wasn't bad enough, he told you, “Since we're telling Grandma'am about the baby as soon as I'm feeling well enough to get out of bed, we can end our charade of chastity. You can finally share my bed, my darling.”
Coryo smirked, thinking that his words were charming, before hacking and soaking his already stained handkerchief with more crimson liquid.
With the metallic smell of blood and the sweet smell of roses mingling in the room, you found yourself giving into Coriolanus' delusions. You agreed to tell Grandma'am about the baby and to move your things into his bedroom.
Because what choice did you have? Coriolanus killed to keep you and the baby safe. It was clear to you that he'd do anything for you and your child.
At least he'd be a devoted husband and father, even if he’s a bit delusional.
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 28 days
Note
bakugo and reader meeting again after a long time like maybe katsu has been away on a mission and he just misses us so much 🥹
anon this is literally such an adorable request!! This has been sitting in my drafts for the longest time cus i could never rlly figure out what i wanted to do with this, but as soon as i got the inspo i got to it !! im so so sososuuupperr sorry for making you wait so long and if you’re still sticking around, I LUB YOU !! anyways, i tried honoring this lovely sweet request as best i could, if you’re reading, i truly hope you enjoy (and all of you ofc!!) <33
fem reader, jus pure fluffy fluff ! katsuki n reader watch selling sunsets bc my mom does lmfaoo this ones for you momma, kissing, biting (lol will i ever stop), lemme know if i missed sum else !
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katsuki regrets planning this surprise.
it’s been one month. exactly 31 days since he’s last seen you. one month he had to survive off of late night phone calls and good morning messages.
katsuki had slowly but surely started climbing up the ranks as a hero ever since he’d gone independent and this mission was a huge steppingstone to victory.
except it involved him going abroad for a month.
you’d congratulated him when he’d told you. you hugged him hard and offered him your brightest sunshine smile, you’d made him dance around your little living room with you, celebrating his ‘rise to stardom’ as you’d called it and he remembers chuckling about it. you’d even gone out of your way and made his favorite to celebrate. but now katsuki understand you were probably doing that so as not to worry him.
he's known you for a long while and he knows you know he can tell when you’re lying, so he was sure you were happy for him. (you can’t fake anything from him and especially not the way you smile, he’s committed that to memory). and you truly looked happy for him, but he knows youwell enough to know that you were also devastated to find out he was leaving for so long. he’d seen the way your eyes widened and your shoulders dropped. but knowing you, you probably powered through it so as not to make him worry.
so stupid. you’re stupid. and he misses you so much.
despite you being in different time zones you make it work. he made sure to be updated daily and called you every time it was time for you to go to bed to make sure you got some well needed sleep and not staying up late mindlessly scrolling through your feed.
you send him pictures of everything happening throughout your day and you’d hound him about his, asking him if he’d eaten well and if he’d beat up any bad guys. and no matter how minuscule his actions were you’d always praise him. as somewhat childish as he knew it was katsuki still walked with his head up high for the rest of the day. if it was to impress you and make you proud, he’d be on the clock 24/7. but, knowing you, you’d get mad at him for overworking himself.
he misses you so much.
he’s on the plane. making his way back home to you a day before he’d told you he would be, his surprise. you’d been so excited, your squeals ringing through the phone, katsuki just couldn’t wipe the smile of his face and goddamnit he tried.
“ou, i can’t wait ! i missed you sooo much, katsu !” you chirped, he couldn’t wait to hear your voice in real life again instead of through his phone.
“yeah, missed you too sweets” he hums, packing up the last of his stuff.
“you better be ready cus when you get back, m’not gonna let you go for a whole month.” you tease, giggling. katsuki huffs out a laugh, looking down at his luggage ready to go as he’d fully finished packing up while you were on the phone.
“uhuh~?” he muses “better be ready for me when i get back. yer not goin’ anywhere either. no bathroom breaks when we're cuddling.”
“ew,” you snort “what am i supposed to do if i have to pee ?”
“that sounds like a you problem, sweetheart.”
you laugh and laugh and katsuki smiles, he couldn’t wait to be able to hear and see it again. expect not one phone call away, like he’d told you he always would be when you’d accompanied him to the airport all teary eyed, but in real life.
except now he’s starting to regret not just coming home on time.
don’t get him wrong, the sooner he gets to you the better. he’d meant it when he told you he wouldn’t let you go and as somewhat embarrassing as it is to him that he had gotten so clingy, being away from you for so long really did a number on him. distance makes the heart grow fonder his ass, he was more than fond of you when he was laying next to you every night instead of all alone in his hotel bed.
but right now he’s way too antsy. he wants to tell you about how he’ll be home soon to hear you squeal and giggle, but he sucks it up in favor of surprising you.
it’ll be worth it. at least that’s what he tried to convince himself when he finished packing up. and on his way to the airport. and on the plane..
who even thought of this stupid surprise idea anyway ?!
he can’t sit still. he has to stop himself from tapping his foot against the floor and shuffling around in his seat. the guy in front of him keeps reclining his seat back but it doesn’t bother him that much, because all he needs is to remember your smile and remember he’s coming home to you, and he feels his nerves settle. recliner-seat-guy be damned.
it’s pitch black by the time he’s off the plane and finally back home. when he checks his phone he sees it’s 2:09 am and you’re no doubt dead asleep by now, he smiles at his phone screen when he sees you smiling back at him.
his limbs suddenly feel heavier the higher the numbers show on the screen inside the elevator to his floor. his body buzzes with excitement but for some reason he can’t help feeling nervous. katsuki knows it’s stupid because you tell him every day how much you miss him and how excited you are to see him. all he wants right now is to see you.
he fumbles around a bit when he fits his keys into the door to walk into your tiny shared apartment and when he finally walks back inside, katsuki is reminded why he does this. why he’s been gone for exactly 31 days.
he kicks his shoes off quietly and sees yours left right by the door like they always are. like he always wants them to be. he wants to come home to your shoes by the door and to you smiling at him brightly and greeting him, or beckoning him over to the couch because you’ve been waiting all day to watch your favorite show with him. (he’s forbidden you from watching any episode of selling sunsets without him, the last time you did he got cranky at you for a good 2 hours.)
katsuki sneaks over to your room, socked feet padding over to the door quietly cracking it open. he’d managed to convince you to move in with him a few months ago, claiming it’d lower costs and yapping about how you practically lived here anyway. it was barely anything to get used to, it felt natural, like this was everything his life was leading up to. but he wants to give you everything you deserve and this cramped little apartment is definitely not it.
he wants to give you a cosy little house, or a penthouse or even a fucking mansion if that was what you wanted, as long as he could be there with you he didn’t care. he’d do whatever he could to get you everything you dreamed of at the flick of a wrist. and that’s why, as annoying and lonely as it was to be without you for so long, he’d pushed through.
katsuki needs to save people, and he wants to. but everything he does, he does with you in a little corner of his mind.
you’re fast asleep like he’d expected, katsuki huffs out a laugh, brushing at your cheek with his finger. his heart almost explodes when you try to lean into the faint touch and he can’t help it anymore. he sits down by your side and kisses your cheek. once, two times, three times and a little one on your nose. if he wasn’t feeling all mushy he’d be an asshole and bite you, but you look so cute he’ll put that off for now.
your nose scrunches up and your eyebrows furrow at the wet kiss onto your skin, you instinctively go to rub at your face with a whine, katsuki chuckles to himself when you open your eyes and the lack of distance between you both meaning your quite literally face to face with him.
“katsu..?” you mumble sleepily “ ‘m i dreamin’ ?”
katsuki chuckles, eyes soft “glad to know ya dream about me, but nah, this isn't a dream.”
you blink sleepily, and katsuki recognize those bright eyes he so loves gleaming the more you wake up “katsuki !” you squeal, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him straight against your collarbone, since he was practically nose to nose with you before he knocks against your chin but you both don’t care.
katsuki crawls into bed and wraps his arms around you tightly, snickering into your neck and you into his hair. you squeeze and squeeze him so hard he thinks you’ll suffocate him but he couldn’t care less, squeezing you like he’s trying to mold you to him.
you breathe him in and he flips you both over with you giggling uncontrollably. you topple over and land straight into his chest. you lift your head up with stars in your eyes like he’d hung up the moon for you and katsuki smirks back softly. because he would. he’d hang up the moon and the stars and more.
all for you.
“you’re back !” you chirp, kissing all over his face. katsuki feels his cheeks hurt, this is the hardest and longest he’d smiled in a month.
“how’d you figure that one out ?” you roll your eyes at his sarcastic remark, blowing lip bubbles against his cheeks as punishment. he playfully pushes your face away from him and you laugh.
“i thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow..” you quickly reach over to your nightstand to check your phone then throw it back down.
“it is tomorrow.” katsuki quips, already getting back to being a smart ass, you roll your eyes but you can’t wipe off the happy look on your face.
“you know what i mean, asshole” you jokingly narrow your eyes at his smug face and press a finger against his cheek “later tomorrow i mean. was gonna surprise you and you….out-surprised, me” you pout at your ruined plans.
he turns his face so he can sink his teeth into your pointer finger and you quietly squeal in disapproval, he smirks “was gonna, but couldn’t wait anymore. needed to see you.” he pulls you closer to run his nose against your pulse point “felt like i was gonna go fucking crazy if i stayed with those other bastards for a second longer.”
you giggle, placing your hands against his shoulders as he kisses up and down your shoulder and neck haphazardly “ don’t be mean.” you scold.
he lifts his head up to raise a brow at you, hands running up and down your sides “you mean to tell me you wanted me to stay away? didn’t miss me ?” he jokes, squeezing your hips harshly.
“of course i did. missed you so much i felt my heart would tear up sometimes..” you smiles sadly, running your fingers through his blond strands, he frowns "but i'm glad you're back now."
"yeah, and m'not leaving again for a damn long while." he squeezes you so hard he lifts you up in his lap a little bit and a surprised noise leak out of you. he lifts his head up from your chest to smirk at you in challenge "you're gonna have to get used to me and my big mouth all over again."
your heart squeezes, you feel like it'll bursts from happiness and katsuki wonders if he' supposed to feel this happy, if it's okay to be this content with one person. but only for a moment, because he's greedy, so so greedy for you. and he doesn't care if it's wrong because he gets to make you happy, to make you smile and laugh, to have you.
and katsuki does everything for you, so he gives himself to you without a second thought.
you hum, placing your hands against his soft cheeks to press your lips to his "got a month worth of your big mouth i need to catch up on." you whisper before finally closing the distance. you both immediately sigh in relief at the contact, being able to feel each other like this again. you smile into the kiss and katsuki thinks he's never felt more at peace.
after a month, exactly 31 days, katsuki's finally back.
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bonus :
"hey." katsuki ask, you snuggle into his side and hum.
"did you watch any episodes of selling sunsets without me ?"
you stiffen.
"n-noooo..." the sheets shuffle and crinkle when katsuki looks down at you. you shrink into yourself.
"maybe one or two.." you squeak out meekly. immediately he's flipping you over and pouncing on you.
"fuckin' traitor." he growls.
"i'm sorry i couldn't help myself !" you wheeze when he starts tickling your sides, kicking at the sheets "it's been a month !" you screech trying to catch your breath.
"yeah i know that !" he exclaims, ignoring the way you're thrashing around as he mercilessly tickles you.
"i'm soooorryy !!"
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771 notes · View notes
thesparklingwriter · 3 months
Text
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unspoken thoughts
tags: modern au, wrothesley x fem! reader, roomates to lovers, reader goes on a blind date with a karen (tm), biker! wrio!!!!
word count: 1.7k
masterlist | taglist
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“Hey, Bun. How was work?”
You meet Wriothesley with a level glare, as you fumble with locking the door. Maybe rooming with him had saved you money on rent, but what you’d saved had definitely been replaced with extra stress.
“I told you to stop calling me bunny.”
“Perhaps if you didn’t blush like that when I do, I would stop.” He replies, nursing a cup of tea and a book as he relaxes on the sofa. You glare at him again but lower yourself onto the sofa beside him.
“New delivery?” You ask, referring to the tea.
“The one that was delayed,” he says. “It was worth the wait.” He raises the cup to you and you take a sip, taking stock of all the flavours you can before Wriothesley begins to talk about it. One day, you’re sure he’ll find out that you actually have no interest in his teas, and that despite the fact he drives you mad, he’s actually just nice to listen to.
“Seems it was worth the money too,” You say once he’s finished talking. “Definitely belongs in the top ten.”
“Maybe even top five,” he replies, mostly to himself as you stand up. “More work?” he asks lightly, expecting you to grumble about how you're tired of always working, and you wish your manager would stop expecting you to work overtime for free, but this time you smile coyly.
“I have a blind date,” you say quietly, trying to ignore the way he’s looking up at you. “My friend set me up. He’s apparently a very refined, classy guy from a good family, and my friend says he thinks we’d get along well.”
“I wonder what your friend defines as a good family,” Wriothesley says, sipping his tea. “Money? Influence?” He’d never truly considered what you’d look for in a partner before, in fact, he liked to try and avoid the thought if possible. He prefers to only think about the things which affect him directly. But now the topic has been brought up, he suddenly feels strange. If coming from a good family is important to you… That would immediately take him out of the running, wouldn’t it?
“I dunno.” you shrug. “Sometimes my friend just says things. Anyway, thanks for sharing your tea. I’m gonna go get ready.”
Wriothesley watches as you walk away, sighing lightly as he takes another sip of his tea. He’s lived with you for so long that he never truly thought about how his life at home would change if you got a boyfriend. Would it mean he could no longer share his teas with you? Would he have to stop letting you sleep on him when you watch movies together?
He sits with his thoughts until he hears your keys as you leave your room.
“I’m off. Don’t stay up for me.” You smile, and Wriothesley can't help but hate himself for hating how happy you seem to be leaving. He sips his now-cold tea and nods.
“Have fun.”
“You’re grumbling. What’s the matter?” you say, pulling your jacket on.
“I am not grumbling.” he shoots back, standing up to go to the kitchen. “My tea got cold. That’s all.”
“You are so grumbling right now.” you grin. Wriothelsey doesn't know if you are purposefully ignoring his bad mood or if you're so excited about your date that you simply don’t notice, but he doesn’t really like either of those answers. “See you later!”
And then Wriothesley finds himself alone again. Maybe he’d taken it for granted that you’d always be around. Maybe he isn't as okay with the silence as he’d made himself believe he was. 
Even though you told him not to wait up, he finds himself unable to sleep. He tells himself it's not because he’s worried, it's just because he had a rare lie in this morning. It's natural for his body to be slightly out of sync, right? You’re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, and today is just like every other day and–
His phone is ringing. It’s odd for him to get called by his manager so late in the day, but it's also not rare. 
It's even rarer for it to be you calling.
“Wriothesley?”
“Hey, Bun. What’s going on?” He can’t help but smile a little. There you are on a date, but you’re calling him.
“Are you busy right now?” 
It's only then that he notices the wavering in your voice.
“I’m not. What’s the matter?”
“Can you come and get me? I… I’m sorry, I just don’t know who else to call.” 
You sound cold, he notices. Your teeth chatter together in between your words, and the wavering in your voice seems to be getting worse.
“Where are you? Why aren’t you inside?” He grabs his keys and he’s out of the door before you even have the chance to respond. His legs are moving faster than his mind can, and he’s already halfway down the stairs before he knows it.
You tell him where you are, but pointedly avoid his second question, and he supposes that’s fair. Maybe you just don’t want to share.
“I’m coming. Don’t move.”
Even despite the fact he’s glad you called him, Wriothesley wonders why you didn’t call an Uber. You’ve always been very vocal about how much you hate his motorcycle, and how you wish he’d just get a car. is the situation so dire that you don't care anymore?
When he gets to you, you’re sat outside of an upscale restaurant. He’s sure you left with a jacket, but you don’t have it on now.
“Hey,” he says, sitting next to you. “What’s the matter?”
You burst into tears when he asks you that question, and for a second, Wriothesley has no clue what to do. It’s you who buries your face into his chest, sobbing desperately.
“It was going okay at first, but the waitress got the guy’s order wrong and he went crazy. So they asked him to pay and leave, and then he said he didn’t want to because his order was wrong. He demanded that a manager come and then he said that I should pay. And I said I’d pay for my half, but as I was saying that I wasn’t going to pay for him, the manager came and picked up the wrong end of the stick, and she wouldn’t listen to the waitress who was defending me. So she asked us both to leave, and he’s screaming his head off, and they barely even gave me time to grab my phone before they marched us out. They would have left me with him while he was blowing his top if it wasn’t for the waitress who came with me until he left.” you cling onto his jacket. “I’m so embarrassed.”
“Don’t be embarrassed.” He says lowly. “It’s not your fault. It was never your fault.” He shrugs his jacket off and puts it over your shoulders. “Show me your table. I’ll get your stuff.”
“Wriothesley, please.” You can feel the anger radiating off him, and you worry about what will happen if he ends up on the wrong side of that manager.
“You shouldn’t suffer because of a guy with no manners. Let me get your things.”
You nod but insist on staying outside. The waitress that you said helped you earlier is the one that greets Wriothesley at the door, and you watch on as she brings him your things, and he settles the bill.
“You didn’t have to do that,” You tell Wriothesley as he returns.
“I did. Shall we go?” He asks, handing you a helmet. He’d bought that helmet for you when you first moved in together, just in case you ever needed to use his motorbike, but you always refused. He’s glad that it’s finally getting used at least once.
The ride home is silent, and you don’t say anything until you get back into your apartment. The feeling of the wind against your skin and your arms around Wriothesley calms you, and even though you feel humiliated by the actions of your stupid blind date, you feel that maybe things aren’t all that bad.
“You finally stopped calling me bunny,” you say, as you flop onto the sofa. Wriothesley hums in response as he fills up the kettle. In his haste, he’d left all of the lights in the apartment on.
“Does it bother you?”
“A little.”
“You’re so contrary.” He says finally. “You say you hate me calling you bunny, but here you are. You say you hate my motorbike, but you’re okay with me using it to pick you up.”
“I don’t hate your motorcycle.” You say, sitting up to look at him properly. “I think it’s cool.”
“Right, that’s why you refused to ever be near it.”
“I just hated the thought of you getting hurt on it.” You say finally. “It scared me.” He hands you a cup of tea and sits next to you. He hadn’t expected that to be your reasoning. “A part of me hoped that you wouldn’t let me go on that date, you know.”
“Why? It’s not my place to tell you what not to do. If you want to go on a blind date, I can’t stop you.” Those are the words he’d told himself as he watched you leave—you were your own person and it wasn’t his place to try and police what you do.
“You don’t understand.”
“Maybe I don’t,” he replies. “Help me understand.”
You take a deep breath. “If I kissed you, would that help you get it?”
“I don’t know. I suppose you’ll have to try.” He smiles. He barely even gets to finish his sentence when you pull him down to you and kiss him. In all the time he imagined he’d get to kiss you, he didn't think you’d be the one to initiate–-but even still, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer.
“Do you get it now?” you ask giddily.
“Not quite.”
So you kiss him again and again until he gets the message.
Bonus:
“You’re not the sharpest pencil in the box, really, are you?”
“Luckily for me, you’d make a great sharpener.”
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© 2023, thesparklingwriter. please do not copy, edit, repost, or translate.
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notes: um ig its time to add wrio to my taglist form lol.. i really cannot get a good grip on his character so if you read this without thinking "he would not do that" then I am relieved but if you did i am also not surprised lol
638 notes · View notes
abilouwrites · 2 months
Note
Hihi I was hoping I could request enemies to lovers Zuko x fem!reader?
The reader is a traitor to the fire nation and can bend fire (also a street peformer before she joined the gaang? 👀) 💕💕
Omg getting a request just made my day I love these!!!
I hope you like it 🫶🫶🫶
YOURE STILL A TRAITOR
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Id like to say that my life is good, that I’m happy where I am but I’m not. I’m upset and frustrated; but most of all I’m living on the street, preforming stupid acrobatic tricks just to feed myself. I’ve left everything behind. My family and wealth but most importantly someone I never wanted to live without.
I’m upside down when I see them; soft flames coming from the soles of my bare feet. Resting on my forearms and twisting and contorting my body.
“You.” A teenaged girl approaches me and I turn right side up, “you’re a fire bender aren’t you!” She says, “what’s your name?”
“Uh” I stare at her and smile nervously, “y/n Huǒ” I repeat slowly, and quietly. People of the fire nation know the traitor I’ve become outside the walls of the fire nation. Meeting the avatar, going against my friends for his life. All because I believed in something greater than all of this.
“I know you” a boy says, bandana around his forehead, “your grandpa, Yújìn. I know- or knew him” He says
“Oh.” Realization hits my face, “you’re the avatar!” A short girl slaps me.
“Wow way to tell everyone!” She retorts, god are little kids sassy.
“You could teach Aang firebending” Katara says, it’s hard not to know someone’s name when there’s wanted posters all over town.
“I’m good at fire bending but I’m no master” I say, “I thought Prince Zuko abandoned the throne to teach you” I ask
“Well he’s uh.. learning a new way to firebend” Toph laughs a little and I smile awkwardly.
“I don’t bend very traditionally” I reply, “but if it will get me off the streets I guess why not” I stand up straighter and brush my hair out of my face.
“You brought that back?!” Zuko shouts, we’ve had a long history. One that includes a betrothal, and a knife to the gut. He looks at me with disgust which I’m not surprised at.
“I’m a girl. Not a thing!” I cry out, “the only reason I’m here is because Aang needs a firebending teacher because you suck!” I scoff out at him, there’s fire burning in his hands but I never raise mine.
He groans at me, “you’ve always been like this! Even when”
“Zuko I don’t want to talk about that” I warn, there’s a plea in my voice but he accepts that, “it was a long time ago”
“Yeah like it was that long ago” he sasses and I roll my eyes.
“Zuko!”
It doesn’t take long for things to settle down; I’m essentially useless now that Zuko has gotten his bending back. Even if he did it how I told him to do it all along but whatever.
The bickering still happens, and I want to throw a knife at him but part of me still loves him. I didn’t hate being betrothed to him as much as I thought I did.
“Did you ever miss us?” I ask him, “after you were banished. I refused to Azula to give away your location and then the Avatars when you wrote me” I confess, “so I left”
“I think. At first I did, but I don’t— I don’t think we would’ve worked together. We fight all the time. I hated you at first. And you hated me” He admits, looking down slightly. He sighs heavily
“Yeah. I guess. But I didn’t really hate- hate you” I admit, “I missed you. I liked knowing you”
He nods, “I did like knowing you too, you’ve changed so much. I mean your fire it’s pink” he laughs
“Maybe it’s from my bubbly personality” I tease, he laughs
“You. Have a bubbly personality!” He laughs and it’s so good to hear, “you were so shy, like if I sneezed too hard I would scare you”
I smile softly, “I’ve changed so much sense I was twelve” my hair falls around my face and he tucks the loose strand around my ear
“What now that you’re fourteen?” He teases softly, his hand lingers behind my ear. But he removes himself quickly.
“Zuko. Im fifteen” I remind him, it’s embarrassing when he says he knows how my heart flutters and I feel weak in the knees.
“I remember, once you turned eighteen we would’ve” he looks away with a blush on his cheeks
“Yeah. Gotten married” I laugh, and I keep laughing because the thought of getting married feels so small and childish to the war we’re supposed to be preparing for.
He laughs; rolling laughs that make me keep laughing. My laughs turn short and wheezy before his face straightens, “are you ok? Can you breathe?” His face turns to me and he smiles seeing my smile. It’s a smile that makes my cheeks hurt and heart race.
“As the Prince of the fire nation. I’m supposed to hate you. Because you’ve betrayed our nation. But as Zuko. As your Zuko. In this moment I don’t feel anything but hate. I feel love for you. A fire that I never want to put out” he tells me, scooting closer to me. I let him cradle my face, “I never hated you”
“I never hated you either” a weak laugh escapes me but he kisses me before it truly develops. It’s a kiss that devours me whole, wrapping itself into my heart and soul.
“If we make it through this. Let’s make good on that betrothal”
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norrizzandpia · 4 months
Note
we need a pt.2 of one sided fake dating ciz my girl deserves a happy ending with lando ofc (even if lying to her was a dick move)
long awaited part 2 to Fake Dating is here! everyone can rest now 🤯
Love of My Life (One-Sided Fake Dating Part 2) (LN4)
Summary: Lando found something wonderful in Y/n and the things he did to lose her will not stop him from letting her go. Love pushes him to clean up the mess he made with the goal of reaching her arms once more. Who knows, he might just achieve it.
Warnings: language? Lando getting into a slay fight with her parents
Note: sorry it took me so long to do this yall hope you like it 🫶🏻
- Part 1 Link
“Lando, we aren’t doing that. Are you crazy?” Zak’s tilted head stared at Lando from the other side of his desk, looking at him as if he'd lost his mind.
Lando’s hands gripped the paper he held, a list of all the sponsors McLaren had so graciously received because of Y/n. He looked at Zak pleadingly, “Please. I’m begging you. Get rid of these sponsors. The only reason we got them was because I was dating Y/n. It’s not right.”
Zak shook his head, leaning closer to Lando as if it would convince him to back down, “It’s money.”
Lando shot from his chair, groaning loudly and shoving the paper into Zak’s face, “It’s not right! I don’t fucking care if it’s money! It’s Y/n! Get rid of them or I’m giving up my seat.”
The room went silent at his threat. Zak sat back in his chair, trying to decipher if Lando was truly being serious. When his eyes met Lando’s, a certain determination in them that told him the boy would go to the ends of the Earth to get this done, he relented.
Zak sighed, “You’re replaceable, but the good PR you bring to the team is not. Therefore, I’ll get rid of the sponsors.”
Lando exhaled a long breath, falling back into his chair to gather his things and leave. He thanked Zak continuously, gratitude pouring out of him like the love he held for Y/n. When he reached the door, his foot already passed the threshold, Zak stopped him.
“Lando?” His throaty voice made Lando freeze, turning around slowly to meet his eyes once more.
He nodded, “Yeah?”
Zak stood from his desk, authoritative and demanding as he said, “Giving up your seat for someone is foolish. Don’t throw away your career for some girl.”
Lando held his gaze, wanting to come off sure as he responded, “She’s not some girl and it’s not foolish. I found something with her I will never find with racing or anything else in my life. Frankly, retiring from racing isn’t as horrifying when in comparison to what I did to her. This is just one of the ways I’m going to make it up to her.”
“And if she never wants to see you again?” Zak asked, a voice of Lando’s inner thoughts.
Lando shook his head, as if it would shake the words from his brain and the sinking terror from his body, “Then I live the rest of my life in the past.”
Zak nodded, seemingly taken aback at the calmness in Lando’s tone coupled with the weight of his words, “I’ll get the sponsors taken off.”
“Thank you.”
With the door about to close, Zak yelled one more thing, “No living in the past, please!”
Lando smiled to himself from behind the door, clutching the knob in his hand as he was reminded of Y/n, “I’ll do it my best!”
Though, he thought, it was truly up to one singular person.
“Is she here?” Lando asked hesitantly, not knowing if he wanted a yes or no as an answer.
Amy shook her head with a small smile, “No, she’s not. She said she wanted to spend Christmas by herself this year.”
Nick nodded along as if the idea wasn’t heartbreaking; Y/n, completely alone, on one of the sweetest holidays of the year.
With a blank stare, Lando clarified, “You let her do that? You’re not going to force your daughter to come home so you can spend Christmas with her?”
Amy scoffed, “Force her?! No. There is no forcing Y/n.”
Lando stood with his mouth agape at the parents' complete disregard for their child, something he was seeing in real time, “But, you’re her parents and it’s Christmas!”
Nick walked to a side table, pouring a small glass of water for him and his wife and sitting back down beside her on the couch across from Lando. He looked at Lando for a moment before delving into the words bouncing in his head, “I’ve known your father for a long time and I’ve always been envious of the family he’s constructed. A successful business with beautiful children who all followed in his footsteps regarding levels of success. I always wanted that for my family, our family,” He glanced at Amy, “And we tried to have that unity with Y/n, but she never wanted it. She always pushed us away. On holidays, birthdays, and other important days of the year, she was never really there. So we gave up trying to make a connection.”
Lando sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he watched the parents, “How many of those years spent trying to build a connection did you spend out at restaurants and galas? Other public appearances?”
The parents scrunched their faces up in confusion before Amy smiled back at him, “Well, it’s a tradition we go out on every holiday, birthdays, and all. It’s good for PR.”
Lando dryly laughed, “Exactly! That’s why she never wanted to be there! You were parading her around in front of cameras for the betterment of your image! How oblivious could you be?”
Nick snapped, “Young man, we are not asking for your opinion on the way we have structured our family and our traditions. We are helping you here, not the other way around.”
Lando challenged him, “I’m just as involved in this as Y/n is. You’ve hurt her and you’ve destroyed her outlook on relationships, friendships. She can’t trust because of you.”
“She can’t trust because of you.” Amy remarked, a snarky grin on her face as Lando’s face fell briefly.
Lando sighed and stood up, “You know what, this isn’t working. I thought that maybe you could help me get back to her, but all this has shown me is that you two cannot get over yourselves for two seconds to take care of your own child.”
Amy, a deep and dark look etched into her face, matched his stance, “Then you may leave.”
Lando drew in a breath and walked to the door, his body communicating calmness while his insides twisted and burned from anxiousness.
Nick stood by the threshold as Lando stepped onto the pavement outside, “If you do see her, let her know that if she has a problem with our parenting style then she can talk to us about it on her own. I didn’t mold her into a person that sends somebody else to solve their problems.”
Lando rolled his eyes as Nick shut the door on his face, a heavy whoosh of air smacking his skin and a reminder that he had turned up empty.
His Plan B enacted, Lando made his way to his car and typed in her address.
There was heavy knocking on her door, startling the tears that rolled down her face as she stared at her blank Christmas tree. With the aftermath of Lando, Y/n knew that spending the holidays with her parents would send her into an even worse fit of sadness. Thrown together with the letter that had been sent to her by Jon, Lando’s trainer, there were many things she had to digest, the possibility of forgiving Lando being one.
Nonetheless, in the midst of her sorrow, she pulled herself from the floor and traipsed over to the door. She didn’t care enough to look through the peephole, accepting her fate if a serial killer came and took her from the surmounting decisions she had to make.
It creaked as she moved it with the noise stopping only when she caught a glimpse of his infamous curls. With the slab of wood pulled open only a few inches, Y/n peaked her head through.
“What are you doing here?” She questioned, a soft tone rather than one of hate and irritation.
Lando’s hands clutched the flowers he bought as he stared into her eyes. He had been so engrossed with getting her back that he hadn’t stopped to stew in his own emotions. Being in front of her, seeing her once more, made him realize how much he hated himself for the things he did. A suffocating sensation overtook his body as the weight of his actions fully set in and he was left with the raw love he possessed for her, the only positive thing left in his body after realizations and tribulations.
He stuttered out a response, “I just- um- well- to be honest-” He took a breath, “There are things that I never got to explain to you and I will stand out here for as long as it takes before you let me in and I get to tell you all the things that went unsaid that night.”
A chill ran over her body at the reminder, a moment she had been trying to force into the depths of her mind since the second it concluded.
Though, her body still yearned for him. Maybe she was crazy, but she could almost feel her heart pull toward his. No matter how angry she got at him or betrayed she felt, the love in his eyes would always reign stronger.
She opened the door fully, stepping aside to grant him enough space to squeeze through. He still seemed to know her apartment’s layout well, moving quickly through it to reach the kitchen. He grabbed a lone vase off the counter, filled it with water and fixed the green stems in it. Y/n stood off to the side, allowing her mind to imagine a time where none of the ugliness had taken place and this was just her true boyfriend coming over with ‘just because’ flowers, setting them up for her like the gentleman he was. Though reality was always more cruel and when he shifted to lean against the marble, his eyes still deep in their remorse, she was forced to reconcile the difference between what she wished was and what truly existed.
“I can’t imagine the hurt I’ve caused,” He started, hands tangled together and fidgeting against his stomach, “Y/n, what happened between us was unlike anything I’ve ever even known to be possible. The love I had for you, the love I still have for you, transcends the expectations I previously had for what I would feel toward the person I wanted to spend my future with. That may mean nothing to you, this all may just hurt you more, and if so, I am truly sorry, but I know you loved me too and I can’t let you get away without a fight.”
Y/n sighed as she put a hand over her forehead, shaking her head lightly, “Lando, I don’t see how I can ever get past how you started us.”
Lando nodded eagerly as he moved closer to her, “I understand that, one hundred percent. That’s why I’m putting such an emphasis on how I feel for you. What existed between us was not fake, it wasn’t to me and I promise you that. Okay, I digress that how it started was shitty and fake, setting only you up for pain, but it turned into something beautiful to me. I was drunk the night I came up to you and if I had been sober, I would’ve understood how fucked up my actions were. I hate the way we started, but, for fucks sake, I don’t regret you at all.”
Tears built up in Y/n’s eyes as she tried to communicate the weight in her stomach, “I loved you too, I still do, but how do I know that you aren’t coming back to me for benefits?”
Lando made a final step closer to her, his hands hesitantly hovering over her head until she lightly nodded her head, giving him permission to cradle her face, “I got rid of all the sponsors that we gained from you.”
Y/n nodded, “I know that. Jon sent me a letter a few days ago, detailing what you’d been doing to make things right. He said you threatened to give up your seat if they didn’t erase the sponsors. Is that true?”
“Yes. Yes, it is. I would’ve given that up in a heartbeat for you.” He gave, thumbs gently wiping at the tears on her cheeks.
“Why, Lan? That’s your career. You love racing.” She tried, still taken aback by the notion he would’ve essentially thrown everything away for her.
His response was immediate, “Because I love you more. From the beginning, I envied the clothes you wore, the books you read, and the lipstick you painted on your lips. Your clothes got to stay close to you throughout the entire day, your books got to be continuously held by you with a bonus of seeing your pretty expressions when something happened in the plot line, and your lipstick got to be repeatedly kissed by you. From the moment I laid eyes on you at that gala, I have been completely obsessed with you. I can’t give up on you. I won’t give up on you. Not when I love you this much.”
A silence passed over Y/n as she took in his words, the beauty of them and the meaning behind every syllable. Speechless, one could say.
His hands continued to grip her face as he whispered against her lips, “Baby, you are the love of my life. If it takes until my dying breath or tomorrow, I will make it up to you. I will show you how much you have changed my life and how grateful I am for the love you have shown me and the love you have opened my eyes to.”
Her hands were shaky as she rested them against his hips, gripping the gray material of his hoodie. She inhaled a deep breath before she whispered, “I think you’re the love of my life too.”
Up close and personal, she watched his smile build. The realization of what she said and what it meant washed over him in waves of relief before he was pulling her closer and kissing her with newfound confidence.
He held her close to him, not wanting to let her go, even when they pulled back and were left to stare into each other’s eyes.
He kissed her cheek lovingly, “I can’t believe I tried to get your parents help trying to win you back. How stupid was I?”
Y/n laughed as she pulled back to give him an astonished look, “You went to my parents?!”
He nodded, “Yeah, it did not go well.”
She shrugged her shoulders, “Eh, to hell with them. They’ve wronged me and won’t own up to it. Therefore, I’m fucking moving on. I have people in my life who care about me more than they ever have and are proud of me even at my worst. I’m happy where I am.”
Pride exuded through Lando’s body at her confession, knowing it had been hard for her to reach that kind of peace regarding her parents. Though, as she smiled up at him, he knew she had found home in other people. His heart warmed, he knew she found home in him.
He found home in her too.
End.
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rukkiya · 10 months
Text
goodbye isn’t for forever
(al haitham x reader, zhongli x reader (separate)
༻ part 2 to take it back༺
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al haitham ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
It's been two weeks since you’ve left.
The once lively apartment Al Haitham had taken for granted was no more, it was far too quiet for the scholar.
The silence was far too loud. He couldn’t concentrate on his work.
The same work that had led him to push you away.
He’s seen you around of course, he checks up on you and makes sure you’re doing well through mutual friends or passing by shops/places you’d both go together.
He hasn’t slept properly since you’ve left, he doesn’t remember the last time he was alone in bed without you next to him.
He thinks back to the times you’d wake up at night and get him from his study, dragging him to bed because he has to be up at the crack of dawn because you wanted him to sleep, because you cared. Now he’s stays wide awake, not worrying about work or other matters for once, instead he was worried about you.
No one has brought it up to him though, they couldn't.
He thought he was hiding it well, keeping it masked under his unrelenting face but the emotions he felt were being shown through his eyes.
During Al Haithams meeting with Cyno he was stammering, taking one too many pauses because he couldn't concentrate on anything. Cyno merely eyes the two wedding bands linked around a silver chain sitting on top of the scholar's chest but says nothing of it, well that is because he already knows.
“Have you tried talking things out? He looks like shit.” Cyno sits next to you, handing you a bottle of water sighing when he sees the corners of your lips tug down at the mention of Al Haitham.
“I can’t, after what he’s done. What makes you think that he wants me in his life anyways? Look, he was the one who threw his wedding band at me. I didn’t do it, he did.” You lay your head on the table huffing as Cyno sighs again.
He doesn’t like seeing you this way. He’s not the most fond of Al Haitham but seeing him down, with an expression other than a punchable face, it actually makes Cyno feel bad for him. You both being this torn was more on you guys than you expected.
“You miss him, you miss him more than you're letting on. From what I can see he misses you too.” Cyno leans back on his seat, you slightly turn your forehead on the table to glance at him, seeing that knowing look he always wears when he knows he’s right.
“Y/n, for as long as I’ve known Al Haitham I’ve never heard him stumble on his words or look worse than now. You might not accept that because yeah you’re right it is his fault. Everything he’s said and done to you isn’t excusable by a long shot but if he really truly meant it, he wouldn't be beating himself over it this bad.” Cyno explains, putting his hand on top of your head and ruffling your hair making you grumble and turn away.
“I’m scared, we’ve been together for so long, married for just as long and for him to do that I- I can’t just let it go so easily you know? He’s probably held it in for so long and he finally spoke the truth, what if I’ve been a hindrance this whole-“
“Stop.” Cyno clicks his tongue, making his hand into a fist and softly bonking your head.
“You always do that. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Listen, you said it right now didn’t you hear? You’ve been together and married for so long, don't you think he would’ve told you beforehand? If anything you made him more tolerable, he seemed content and happy with you. But right now he seems lost.” Cyno removes his hand from your head and crosses his arms.
“But I did something just as bad Cyno I took mines off too.” You turn your head to face Cyno again, feeling your voice crack just remembering how Al Haitham’s face looked completely horrified when you did that.
“Go home and you’ll see. Go home to him y/n he’ll have it waiting for you I can guarantee.” Cyno smiles at you knowing look in his eyes, he knows Al haitham wants you home just as bad, he’s keeping your ring on him for when you do come back.
Your chest feels heavy, your hands are sweaty as you stare at the familiar wooden door to your shared house with Al Haitham.
It’s only been two weeks, it feels like forever since you've walked out. You didn't even bother getting your things.
You raise your hand and hold it up, contemplating as to whether or not this was a good idea. But you feel your knuckles tap against the wooden door a few times and freeze, holding still to hear any movement from within.
Nothing.
No footsteps, no moving, no talking.
You do it again only to get the same empty response.
You feel your stomach drop.
Is he ignoring me? Did I really mess it up? Why did I leave like that? You feel your eyes burn as you continue to state at the door, mind thinking the worst.
‘Y-Y/n?” Al Haitham whispers from behind you.
He blinks a few times, making sure he's not hallucinating. There's been a few incidents where he thought you came back home a few days ago and it wasn't you, he didn't want to get his hopes up.
You blink at the door and hold your breath, slowly turning your head to look back at a distraught looking Al Haitham.
You open your mouth to say sorry, to apologize for leaving him when you should have just talked things out but nothing comes out, instead a small whimper escapes as your vision gets more blurry. His eyes, the look in his eyes made your throat swell. When you first met him it was so hard to read him, to tell his emotions but the look in his eyes right now says everything.
This tears Al Haitham from the inside out, his long legs walk up the small step to your house and he opens his arms as he nears you immediately wrapping them around you and pulling you in close, his eyes blown wide.
“It's you- you're here I didnt think you were- I thought you weren't coming back.” He exhales a shaky breath as he brings you closer, one hand cradling your head and other pulling you up from your torso.
“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for what I've said to you. It's inexcusable to say it's because of my work when you were just trying to help, you always do and I need that, I need you here to keep me grounded to keep me sane, you're anything but a hindrance, you help me in ways I never thought anyone could. Please stay. Don't leave me again.” he pulls back, hands moving to hold your face as he rests his forehead on yours.
“I will marry you over and over again if I have to prove myself.” one of his hands moves from your cheek, grabbing your hand in his and placing it on his chest where the necklace with the rings are.
“Haitham I'm sorry I left you alone I should've just listened.” you grab his hand that was holding your cheek, closing your eyes at the warmth you've missed so much feeling the tears you were holding slide down your face. Al Haitham only shakes his head
“Don't apologize to me. No one should have to hear that. Be treated that way, especially you.” he feels his hands shake slightly, with you in his hold. He feels like it's fake, like it's another one of the dreams he's been having since you've left him like he's going to wake up and you're still going to be gone.
“Please don't leave me, I need you home to keep me grounded. I missed you more than you can imagine.” He hugs you again, pulling your head into his chest and closing his eyes.
Throughout all the time you've been with him you've never seen him so on edge, look so scared. Let alone be this affectionate, you can feel it in the way he holds you , the way he speaks, he truly feels bad for what he said and done. Though you still feel torn, hurt from his actions you know you can't leave him again as you've missed him just as much.
As he holds you close, breathes in your comforting scent that he's come to love so much he vows to not take your caring for granted, that he needs you here more than anything. That he isn't himself without you.
zhongli⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
Zhongli left, he’s gone.
You’re more than sure he’s moved on, found someone better who manages to actually care for their own well being and who doesn’t stress him out too much the way you did.
It’s what he deserves, anyways all you were doing was weighing him down, putting him under constant stress and worry to the point he couldn’t take it anymore.
It’s you, you’re the one who pushed him away the only good thing you had going on is now never coming back
Though he's been gone, Zhongli kept his word, he’s kept an eye on you since the day he left you.
A whole year had flown by agonizingly slow. It was driving him crazy as more time passed he grew worried you didn’t want him back.
During the duration of the year he’s noticed how you care more about your well being more. You took a break from adventuring and weren't as reckless. You started to work at your fathers local bakery to get back on your feet as you recovering from your injuries, Zhongli was relieved.
Though you seemed fine on the outside you only grew to despise yourself more than you ever had before since he’s left. You knew you didn’t deserve him and having him leave just proved your hurt heart more to that fact.
Zhongli kept his word, still watching over you from far away places, making sure to keep out of your line of view but more than anything he wanted to go back to you, wanted to go back home with you where you both belong.
The year with him gone was a process, one that took your mind into a very dark place.
You were hurt for so long, then you grew angry only for it all to ball up into self hatred.
During your time away from him you’ve reflected, taken care of yourself physically but mentally you were drained, it was constant nagging going on. Zhongli would be the one to quell those thoughts but you only had yourself, it was getting harder as days went on.
“I can’t stand seeing you beaten and bruised yet you are all the time.”
“You’re too much for me to handle.” Zhongli sighs, finally having enough, leaving his wedding band behind and walking out the door, never turning back once.
You shoot up from bed, looking around the room as you try to regulate your breathing, seeing the sun peeking in through your curtains.
Your hand reaches over to the ever so cold side of your bed and you're thrown back to reality. You mind immediately fogging with thoughts you don't want to hear.
You were in a constant brain fog, always lost in your own thoughts.
To the point it was was starting to become a problem, you weren't aware of lots of things most of the time. Not paying attention to certain things that could easily turn dangerous.
You got ready for work as usual, made your way down to the bakery, your mind racing a thousand thoughts per second.
“Hey y/n right?” A regular that you see buying bread at your fathers bakery stops you just blocks away from the bakery.
You turn around and he walks closer to you, greeting you with a smile.
“Good Morning.” you force your lips to turn upwards.
“Your father told me to tell you to pick up some things from my house for ingredients before you go in, it's just down the street.” he points down the road to a small house by the mountain.
“Alright, I'll go grab it right now. Is it a lot of supplies?” you ask, walking down the path thinking nothing of the situation.
“Not much but I think you’ll need an extra hand if anything.” The says, following a few feet behind you, looking around the surrounding area.
Zhongli was on his usual morning stroll, passing by your fathers bakery to make sure you get to work safe when he sees a random man stop you.
He stops walking when he sees you walk the complete opposite way from the bakery, following the man down the road. He feels a familiar feeling rising in his chest once again, your putting yourself in situations you don't see are clear signs of danger.
“Yeah, I'll help you bring them back up, it's just a few bags of flour and sugar right?” you ask, the man only hums in response, walking slowly behind you. You don't think about it, instead you continue your regular pace, already dreading the day ahead of you. you know you won't be able to concentrate much already feeling drained from getting up from bed alone.
Though it was morning, the end of the street was oddly quiet for this busy part of town.
Every stall around here is usually set up by now.
You near the small house and walk up the porch, turning and waiting for the guy behind you to open it though you notice his whole demeanor change. He was much closer now looking around him before looking back at you, reaching in his pocket to grab his keys.
He walks past you and unlocks the door holding it open, mentioning for you to walk in first, so you do, hearing the door behind you close and the sound of clicking, like he was locking it behind him.
“Why're you-”
“I brought them, our deal is done.” the man clears his throat, looking directly behind you.
You freeze, looking at the man with wide eyes when you realize what he said. Feeling the hairs on the back of your neck stand as you slowly turn around seeing a group of treasure hoarders standing directly behind you.
You start to back away, reaching into your pocket and getting the small dagger you carry but feeling someone grab your arm before you can pull it out.
“No no no, don't play dirty now we just want to talk. Your father makes a good amount of money in this town, he'll surely pay a good ransom to get his precious kid back now, won't he?” a treasure hoarder laughs, squeezing your wrist making the dagger drop from your grasp.
“My father pays for my brother's medical bills. Please don't make him pay for something he can’t afford. I have money, you can take all mine and let me go. I won't say a thing.” you look at the treasure hoarder standing in the middle of the room and hear his laughter boom through the small house.
“You’re kidding me right?” his hand brings up the ax he was holding and takes a step towards you.
You don't want this, to make someone else suffer because of you. Not your own family after they are already dealing with so much.
Zhongli waited a few minutes by the house you entered and saw no sign of you coming back out, he didn't want to interfere. He has no right. He's been so scared to go back to you, he regrets leaving. He knows he shouldn't have done it that way, he should've stayed, helped you another way. He doesn't think you'd want him back after so long, he has no right to be checking on you. You've probably well moved on.
But he can't help but worry, still check on you because he still loves and cares for you, just like he said he would the day he married you. But he left you, walked out the door, left his ring but worst of all left you all alone.
He feels something off though. From the looks of it the man you were talking to wasn't someone you knew personally, he could tell from our body language, the way you distanced yourself from him. If it was a friend of yours or someone you were close you’d look more relaxed and wouldn't be so tense or distance yourself so far from them when talking.
They're taking too long. Are they ok? Zhongli thinks, eyeing the small house. Contemplating as to whether or not he should go and check.
“Listen, your father gives us the money for you and nothing else got it.” the treasure hoarder leans down to your height and you narrow your eyes at him.
“My father won't give you a penny understand? Do your worst.” You dare the man in front of you seeing his smile drop.
You stay still, seeing a small open window to the right of you from your peripherals. The dagger you dropped right next to your foot.
“You testing me kid?” the treasure hoarder steps even closer making you shrink into yourself.
You quickly duck down, sweeping your leg under the mas feet and grabbing the dagger next to you hearing a thud, you don't even turn around as you hear multiple footsteps closing in as you run to the window, your arms and torso getting out before you feel a pair of hands grab your leg.
You feel your body get pulled back in instantly, your body hitting the ground with a loud thud.
“Donp tugh mi (don’t touch me)!” you try to scream but a hand muffles you before you do.
The loud ruckus alerts Zhongli and he doesn't even take a second to think. He's outside the door in an instant before his brain can register what he's doing.
A soft knock at the door stops everyone making the guy on top of you press his hand harder against your mouth.
“Don't think about it.” he looks down at you, voice dripping with malice.
Another knock at the door and the man on top of you signal for his subordinates to stay quiet.
Zhongli was giving them a chance to prove themselves but the second time he knocked and no one answered he had enough.
It grew completely silent, the sound of footsteps walking away was heard before the door and its hinges flew into the house.
A familiar silhouette stood in the doorway and you couldn't blink, you had to be hallucinating now.
Why is Zhongli here? How did he know I was here? Your mind halts seeing his eyes glow gold.
The man on top of you was thrown off in a second as a flash of gold passed by you, the other men being knocked to the ground seconds after as everything slowed down your eyes following the gold flash going across the room.
Everything goes quiet once again. The treasure hoarders in there were now all on the floor knocked unconscious as Zhongli stood in the middle of the room, chest heaving up and down as he glares at the foolish mortals who dared to try and hurt you.
You slowly sit up and back away, not really knowing what to say to him because why? Of all time why is he here? How'd he know you were here?
He hears the floor behind him creak and turns, golden eyes narrowing at you until he comes to realize it's you, you're ok.
When he broke the door down and saw the man holding you down his mind went into autopilot, he hasn't acted out on emotion in so long, it took over him before he could control it.
“Why're you here?” you ask, looking away from him grabbing the dagger and putting it back into your pocket.
He steps forward and you step back, the anger you've been holding back is starting to surface.
“Why did you follow him? Do you trust this man this much to have him bring you here and-”
“Dont, I don't need another lecture from you.” you almost laugh. After all this time away this is what he starts with?
“Yeah I know, take care of myself, work things out, I remember trust me, after all that's the last thing you told me before leaving remember? Right now I don't have time to hear it, I have to go to work.” You don't even bother looking back at him as you walk past to leave.
“I'm sorry.” He stares at you as you stop, seeing you shake your head and look down.
“I shouldn't have left you alone, it wasn't a good way to prove myself, I just wanted you to-”
“Zhongli please don't….” you sigh, feeling the heavy feeling settling in your chest, turning to look back at him, your eyes widening when you see one of the men he knocked out get up behind him.“GET DOWN!”
Everything moved too fast, your legs, the man behind him, but Zhongli didn't move fast enough.
Old habits die hard. You feel tired from everything, thinking too much, getting up today.
Zhongli feels the weight of your body go limp as you fall forward an arrow sticking out of your back, the man he had knocked out earlier standing directly behind, wide eyes looking up at Zhongli as he realizes who exactly it was.
“I didn't mean to get them. I wasn't going to hurt them. I swear, please don't hurt me.” the man coweres as his legs give out under him. Zhongli only stares down at you in his arms, seeing your eyes fighting to stay open.
“You're going to leave again aren't you?” your voice cracks and Zhongli feels his breath hitch, the pain in his heart worsening, you think he'd leave you alone like this?
“I'm not leaving anytime soon my love, just give me a second and i'll take you to Dr Baizhu right now, whatever you do dont turn around and keep your eyes open for me.” He picks you up, carrying you to the corner of the house facing you away from the man behind you, leaning down and giving your head a kiss before standing back up.
It all feels like a dream, this can't be real, you feel far too sleepy for it to be.
Zhongli summons his polarm and stands back up, slowly walking to the man who hurt you.
You couldn't do what he wanted again, you tried but your eyes keep closing from sheer exhaustion, the last thing you heard before completely blacking out was screaming coming from behind you, the same flash of gold blinding you once again before you felt your own body go limp, succumbing into the darkness.
◇──◇─────◇──◇
authors note: hello lovelies!! ◝꒰´꒳`∗꒱◟ ohmygoodness I’m so sorry for how long I took to write a second part to this T~T I’ve just been pretty busy but I’ve been getting more inspo for more stories that I’m so freaking excited to share with y’all! :D but alas part two of take it back is here! I had to make zhongli’s part angsty and another open ending- IMSORRY ik I need to stop LOLOL but I do hope you all enjoy and that I wrote it angsty enough for y’all (some of y’all told me to make it more angsty LMAOO you all like getting your feelings hurt just like I do >.< please make sure you are all taking care and staying safe ^~^<3 (this isn’t edited so apologies for any errors!!)
@ilocqua @2hilarious4u @esthelily @cypressus-lunis @taetaebunni @coruscale @wearetherealarm @chiyukin @lum1nesc3nce @anxietysslave @starlightaura @duckyyyx @dreamlessnight @myimymy
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dancingbirdie · 6 months
Note
This request is really out of the blue but, i need I CRAVE i require a fic where tav and astarion finally find a cure for his vampirism (in dnd5 it can actually happen yay!) and he manages to see his reflection again and finally have his natural eye color again (blue bc he's prob a moon elf but I don't mind other colors too). The fangs can stay or not, idc, i just want my boy happy, in love, and cared for. Bonus points if there's cuddles too
OK first of all, thanks for this prompt!! Second, I had to break this up into two parts because I'm afraid of how unwieldy it would get otherwise. So see part 1 below. I'm actively writing part 2 and should have that posted within the next few days. Hope you enjoy!
UPDATE: Chapter 2 available here!
I Promised You (Chapter 1)
Rating: G
Pairing: Astarion x GN!reader
Word Count: 3.1K
Warnings/Tags: mentions of unconsciousness, cheeky banter, domestic life, post-events of BG3, potentially problematic levels of self-sacrifice by reader.
***
“All right. I think you’re ready,” Gale affirmed as he peered over your shoulder, analyzing your hand movements as you practiced the incantation. 
“You think? Shouldn’t we wait until you’re sure?” you replied, heavy skepticism coloring your tone. 
“I can’t give you my complete assurance because you haven’t actually cast the spell,” the wizard sighed. 
The two of you had had this argument many times over the past several months as you studied and practiced. And studied and practiced some more. The conclusion was always the same, but your anxiety always managed to convince you that a different outcome would be had if you just asked him again. 
Conjuration magic was one of the most difficult forms to master. Yes, you had specialized in it during your formative years, under the tutelage of several learned wizards across Faerûn, but this spell was perhaps the pinnacle of feats in conjuration. Only a handful of wizards could perform it. Thankfully Gale was among that number, which is why you had come to him for help.
“As I’ve said, this isn’t a spell you can just cast for practice runs,” he continued. “You have one chance. And if it works, the sheer power of it is undoubtedly going to knock you unconscious.” 
“I know, I know,” you grumbled. “I just… I need to be absolutely perfect. I have to do this. For him.” 
“Have you told him what you’re planning yet?” Gale prodded.
“No. Not yet. I didn’t want to get his hopes up. Or have him tell me how unlikely success will be. Not until I was absolutely sure I could do this.” 
“I see,” the wizard returned, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Well, tonight is as good a time to tell him as any. There’s nothing more I can teach you to prepare for this. You know the incantation by heart. You perform the gestures almost through muscle memory now. You’re ready.”
“I’m ready,” you repeated, as if saying the words would will it to be so. 
“Send me a missive if he wants to go through with this. I’ll come to the cottage and oversee the spell’s casting.”
“All right,” you nodded.
“It’s going to work. You have to believe it’s going to work,” Gale encouraged, meeting your eyes with a serious, stern sort of expression.
“It’s going to work,” you agreed. “It’s going to work.” 
***
It was dusk by the time you returned to the cottage. It was a modest home you shared with Astarion, situated just outside the city walls. It had a lovely view of the rolling hills that surrounded Baldur’s Gate, and proximity to the Chionthar River gave the air a refreshing, misty feel. Pastoral communities dotted the countryside with sheep and cattle grazing freely during the day, though they had returned to their stables long before your return.
Astarion was no fan of the bucolic lifestyle, as he was wont to remind you. But you both agreed that this living situation afforded him better meal prospects than the rats, cats and errant stray dogs that dwelled within the city limits. At least this way, he had more fulfilling options for food, since the livestock attracted their fair share of large predators. A mild, perpetual confusion charm that you cast kept the neighbors from questioning why – unlike their peers in neighboring villages and towns – their animals were never plagued by roving bears and panthers. 
Astarion was lounging listlessly in the bay window of the den when you entered your home, one leg dangling off the ledge of his reading nook while he carelessly flipped through a book. Probably one he had pilfered from Gale’s stockpile a few weeks ago, you surmised. There had been an uptick in the wizard’s grumbling about discrepancies in his library catalog of late. 
“Anything interesting?” you asked as you shrugged out of your traveler’s cloak and hung it on the coat rack by the door. 
“Ugh, hardly,” Astarion grouched. “Nothing but debunked theories and philosophies from bloated scholars who died a hundred years ago.”
“You’re going to have to return Gale’s books to him eventually, you know. He’s beginning to realize how many from his library are missing.”
“Haven’t the slightest clue what you’re referring to, darling,” he replied breezily.
“Of course, love,” you chuckled, planting a kiss on his forehead as you passed him by to make your way into the kitchen. 
“Care for a glass of wine?” you called.
“Mm, yes,” Astarion returned. “Red, please, dear.”
Uncorking the bottle and pouring the glasses gave you a brief moment to collect your thoughts. To steel your nerves for the conversation looming before you. Drawing a deep breath in and exhaling it slowly, you made your way back into the den and braced for the inevitable. 
“Darling, do you have a moment?” you asked as you offered Astarion his glass before taking a seat next to him. “I’d like to talk to you about something.”
“Gods, it must be serious,” he teased, straightening from his reclined pose to take the proffered glass and make room for you. “You like you’re about to be ill. Go on then, love, before you faint and spill this vintage all over the floor.”
“It is rather serious, in fact,” you began, clearing your throat that had suddenly become tight with nerves.  “I’ve waited to tell you until now, but I’ve been researching some more difficult conjuration magic with Gale the past few months…”
“Oh?” Astarion prompted as you paused. “For what purpose, darling? I thought you had already mastered the school of conjuration.”
“I have. But this is a more specialized form. More… niche, I guess one might say. And, well…” you trailed off again, hesitant.
“Go on,” he encouraged. 
“I’ve-been-researching-a-spell-that-cures-vampirism-and-I-think-I’ve-found-a-way,” you spat out all at once, the words tumbling into each other like a wagon train gone wild. 
Astarion met your eyes with a blank stare, seemingly forgetting that his one hand had been in the process of lifting the wine glass to his lips. 
“I beg your pardon?” he asked hoarsely.
You coughed to clear your throat. “What I mean to say is: I’ve been working with Gale for months now to learn a spell that can cure your vampirism. He and I believe I’m ready to perform it. If you would allow me to try, that is.”
“If this is your idea of a joke,” he murmured, a slight quiver in his voice. “Then I have to tell you, it’s absolutely not funny at all.”
“It’s not a joke!” you assured. “I swear to you, Astarion. It’s not a joke,” you continued, squeezing one of his hands in yours. 
He nodded absently, his gaze trained on your thumb as it soothed over the knuckles of his fingers.
“H-how?” he whispered finally. “How can you cure it? I’ve read every tome I could get my hands on for over two hundred years. Nothing, nothing, I’ve read has ever offered a solution.”
“Because this is a highly guarded spell. It’s only passed down through oral tradition among wizards who specialize in conjuration magic. Which is why I’ve needed Gale’s help,” you explained. “I broached the topic with him some time ago, told him how we were going to look for some way to cure your vampirism. Being a master of magicks himself, I thought he would be a good source of information for me to begin my research. I wasn’t even aware of the spell until he shared it with me. He’s been teaching me the mechanics of it since then. It’s been a difficult spell to master but–” 
“What’s the cost?” Astarion interjected suddenly, meeting your gaze with a new intensity.
“It will cost you nothing, obviously,” you retorted, disliking where the conversation was heading. 
Astarion huffed through his nose. A caustic, frustrated sort of sound. “Don’t play cute with me, darling. You know what I mean.”
“No. I don’t,” you hedged.
“What will the spell cost you,” he bit out through a clenched jaw. 
You bit your lip, hesitant to reply. Astarion’s gaze never wavered. 
Finally you sighed. Better to reveal the consequences of it all than attempt to hide the downsides from him. Even though they were negligible in your eyes, compared to the wonder that would be returning his elfhood to him, you knew he would resent being told only partial truths. You couldn’t fault him for it. You would feel the same, were the roles reversed. 
“It will permanently weaken me. There’s a small, very small, chance it could kill me if I perform it wrong,” you confessed.
“No,” Astarion responded bluntly, without a hint of hesitation. He rose from the bench and made to leave the room. As if the matter had been settled and it was time to crack on. 
“Wait! What do you mean, ‘no’?” you blurted. Jumping to your feet, you snatched at the sleeve of his nightshirt. 
He turned to peer at you with a haughty gaze, one eyebrow arched delicately. “Exactly that. No. You’re not risking your life on the off chance of this working.”
“But it’s not an off chance. It will work! And the likelihood of me dying is incredibly slim!” you protested.
“But the likelihood of you being ‘permanently weakened’ is essentially certain, yes?” 
You rolled your eyes. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as it sounds. And besides, I don’t mind. I want to do this, Astarion.”
He scoffed. “Have you gone absolutely mad? ‘It’s not as bad as it sounds.’ Do you even know what will actually happen to you afterwards?” he shot back angrily.
“No,” you admitted, a bit quieter. 
He deliberately widened his eyes at your response, crossing his arms across his chest as if to say See? My point proven. 
“But I know I can handle it! And I love you enough to try!” you retorted.
That appeared to be the wrong choice of words. You realized it immediately as his expression morphed from outright anger to something darker, icier.
“Well then, it seems we’re at an impasse, darling,” he growled. “Because I love you enough not to have you go through with this.” 
You opened your mouth to object once more, but he continued, ignoring you. 
“AND, since it is my body and my life we’re discussing, it means I have the final say on the matter. My answer is no.”
You had anticipated this conversation going many different ways. You thought you had prepared for the most likely scenarios. But, in all your pondering, you hadn’t seriously considered the possibility that Astarion would reject this opportunity outright. 
Your eyes welled with tears. Hot, angry, disconsolate tears. 
“Astarion,” you murmured, desperate. Angry though you both were, you couldn’t resist the urge to curl into his embrace. Gently, you pulled at his arms in an attempt to un-cross them. With a soft sigh, he allowed you to manipulate him so that you were pressed chest to chest. Your arms banded around his waist, locking him against you. Slowly, he raised his arms to mimic your stance, peering down at you.  
“Astarion, my darling, this is your chance. It’s the only chance we’ve found in over two years of searching. I know I can do it. And you can win it all back. I can help you. Let me do this,” you pleaded. 
“Darling, how could I ever ‘win it all back’ when there’s a possibility I could lose you forever? Or that you could be seriously harmed in the process?” he lifted a hand to cup your cheek, smiling sadly. “I would never forgive myself if you were harmed in an attempt to cure me.”
You closed your eyes, tears slipping freely down your cheeks. “Please. I know I can do this. Please let me do this. I want to do this for you.”
“Come, pup, no more tears. I’ve given you my answer,” he murmured, swiping a thumb across your cheekbones to catch each tear.
You opened your eyes to glare at him. “If the roles were reversed, would you want to try this for me?”
“Of course,” Astarion huffed. “But that’s obviously different, I –”
“WHY? Why is it different?” you cried, clutching him. 
“Because you’re worth it!” he implored, arms vibrating as though he were resisting the urge to shake sense into you. “Your soul is worth a thousand of mine! It’s not marred by death and torture and sacrilege. Can’t you see that? Don’t you see?”
“No, I don’t,” you argued obstinately. “Because you are worth it to me. Your soul is priceless to me. I love you. You’re the love of my life.”
Astarion said nothing, just stared at you with sad eyes. You couldn’t tell if his silence meant you were persuading him, but you couldn’t relent without giving at least one more desperate plea. 
“I promised you. Remember? After everything that happened, I promised you we would find a way for you to walk in the sun once more. I didn’t make that promise lightly. I want to do this for you.”
“Darling…” he murmured sadly, shaking his head. 
“Astarion, please,” you beseeched, shifting to clutch his face between both of your palms. “I’m literally begging you to let me try. Gale and I have been practicing for almost a year now. He wouldn’t tell me I was ready unless he was certain. I know I can do this. Please. Let me try.”
“Don’t you have any regard for your own life?” he whispered. “How is it that I’m more concerned for your well being than you are?” 
“Darling, all of us have the slightest potential of dying every single day we continue to breathe. Anything poses some risk to our lives. I’m telling you, the risk of me dying from this is the same as the risk I take casting any other magic.”
“But there’s still a permanent cost to doing this. Have you even asked Gale to elaborate on what that entails?” 
“No,” you admitted a bit sheepishly. “I didn’t really think about it.” 
Astarion rolled his eyes but planted a kiss against your forehead. “You’re ridiculous, you know.”
“I’m sorry that I was so ecstatic about finding a cure that I leapt straight into studying it!” you said defensively, although your tone lacked teeth. 
He chuckled and wrapped you in a tighter embrace, resting his cheek on the top of your head. The two of you stood like that for some time, arms wrapped around each other, lost in thought. 
After a while, Astarion cleared his throat. “I want us to speak to Gale. I want to know the full details, the consequences of a spell like this.”
You jerked your head up in surprise, staring at him with wide, elated eyes. 
“I’m not saying yes,” he clarified, attempting to tamp down your burgeoning excitement. “But I’m willing to hear more about this… possibility.”
A delighted squeal rocketed up your throat. Quick as a flash, you jumped to wrap your legs around his waist. Long used to your ebullient antics, Astarion caught you with a practiced ease. His arms banded under your thighs and across your lower back, squeezing gently. 
“I love you, you daft, feral thing,” he chuckled, nuzzling your cheek. 
***
“I would have gone over this months ago, had you afforded me the opportunity,” Gale had groused upon arriving at the cottage the following evening. The three of you shared a bottle of barrel-aged Callidyren while Astarion peppered the wizard with umpteen questions about the spell’s mechanics. To his credit, Gale managed to assuage Astarion’s concerns. At least for the most part. 
The permanent effects of casting the spell, you both learned, would diminish your inner well of magic, rendering you unable to cast as many spells as you currently could before resting for a longer period of time. Almost as though the cost of performing the spell would revert you back to the strength you had had as an apprentice so many years ago. You would still be powerful, capable of wielding even the most intricate of spells. But your endurance would be shorter, more concentrated. It was a price you were more than willing to pay. Even more so now that you had actually allowed Gale to describe the effects in detail. 
“I still can’t believe you didn’t press for more details,” Astarion grumbled. 
“It didn’t seem important at the time,” you sniffed, waving a hand dismissively. “Still doesn’t, in my opinion.”
“You know, in some schools of thought,” Astarion countered dryly, “people believe the difference between bravery and complete idiocy is so fine a line that it frequently gets crossed.”
“So I’ve heard,” you crooned. “But, alas, I’m nothing if not an incredibly adept fool in love.” 
Gale observed the two of you warily, as if uncertain whether this exchange constituted harmless domestic banter or an undercurrent of severe agitation. 
“Yes, well,” he interrupted awkwardly, “as I said before, you’re as ready as you will ever be to perform this magic. I’ll be here to supervise and intervene, if necessary, though I don’t think it will be.”
“Bully for us. Is there anything else we should be prepared for, if we’re to go through with this?” Astarion snapped. “Sudden onset sliminess? Gills? Frothing at the mouth?”
You winced. He was always his most discourteous self when he was afraid. Gale might not realize it, but you knew him well enough to tell when his rudeness was obfuscation.   
“Ahem,” Gale coughed, clearly affronted by the impertinent question. “No, nothing of that sort. But this spell is incredibly demanding on one’s body. It’s very likely they’ll fall unconscious once it’s been cast. The effect shouldn’t last for more than a few hours. Enough time for a proper rest.”  
“You failed to mention that yesterday,” Astarion said peevishly, glaring at you from across the dining table. 
“Because it’s the equivalent to me needing a good sleep after a tiring day,” you quipped. 
Gale winced. “It’s a bit more serious than that, I’d argue.”
“Thank you,” Astarion intoned. 
“Tsk. An inconvenience at worst. Nothing unmanageable,” you retorted. “So, what say you, darling? Are you willing to give this a try?”
Astarion’s glare shifted between you and Gale, studying you both. 
“And you both swear to me that all information is now disclosed, yes? No partial truths, no hidden side effects?”
“I swear,” the two of you responded in unison. You reached for Astarion’s hand across the table. 
“My darling, this will work. I’m going to be fine. And you’re going to be cured,” you smiled gently. “Please, trust me.”
He squeezed your hand, crimson eyes boring into your own. 
Finally, after a moment, he gave you a terse nod.
“All right. Let’s try,” he agreed.
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