#i love lip's pov a lot
You think Lip sometimes looks at Ian and Mickey and just smiles a little to himself because who would've seen that coming?
Like, Lip's always been good with odds and numbers and back in the day, back when they started out a fucking lifetime ago, absolutely nobody would have bet on those two making it in the end.
He had been around back then, on the side lines catching glimpses from time to time. From 'Mickey's gay and we're doing it' and 'i know what he felt with me' to 'you think i should've?' and 'because i love him'.
And Lip hesitates in the doorway when he enters the living room for a moment and watches them lie on the couch in front of the TV, wrapped up in each other's arms, sleepy and content, for once neither bickering nor on the verge of fucking and he thinks that he's never seen Ian so happy and being himself this much at the same time before.
And maybe he shakes his head when he looks at the man in his brother's arms because holy fucking shit that's Mickey Milkovich right there.
That's 'someone's gotta get a beat down', it's 'oh shit is right', it's anger issues and russian prostitutes and attempted murder and escaping prison to fucking mexico.
But it's also the guy who pours Ian his coffee in the morning and makes sure he doesn’t drink it before he’s had something to eat, who used to count his fucking pills, who once bought a bag full of B vitamins as if they could fix it all somehow.
It’s who Ian lost sleep over, it’s who he made his best bad decisions for.
It's Franny's Uncle Mickey, it's Mandy's older brother and holy shit, it's Ian's fucking husband.
And isn't that so beautifully Ian, that he saw something in that dirty faced thug from ten years ago that no one else ever bothered to look for? that he found a love that proved itself to be stronger than whatever life or fate or Terry fucking Milkovich threw at them, that pulled them back to each other every time they fell apart?
Mickey has been a constant presence in Ian’s life in a way that nothing else but Lip himself ever had. Has been a witness, a catalyst, a victim of Ian’s epic highs and lows, has done insane things to and for and because of him. As fucked up as they always were, they seem to hold the balance, they somehow make it work.
Lip loves his brother with all his heart, has done so his entire life, he knows all the best and a lot of the worst of Ian and he knows that Mickey knows it too. Loves him, too. Signed up for it all, the whole package, good times and bad, sickness and health, Monica and Gay Jesus, mania and depression. Had probably signed up for it long before they stood in front of witnesses at the Polish Doll.
So Lip smiles sometimes when they bicker over breakfast cereal or when Ian can’t keep his hands to himself even when the rest of them is right there or when Mickey talks shit like he’s still big bad Milkovich, south side thug extraordinaire and not the boy who has been in love with Lip’s little brother for the last decade.
Because it’s nice to see they made it. Because if anyone deserves a happy ending and a gentle future, it’s them.
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For the writing ask, n18 please. Because as you said, it’s Monday. ❤️
Ah, the DVD commentary for the scene/line I'm most proud of. There's some recency bias at play, I'm sure, but ch6 of "down for you always" comes to mind—under the cut for spoilers and also general length!
So. @bewires does a really beautiful job of writing about feelings and putting a lot of emotion in characters' inner monologues without making it drag on or taking away from the action. I tend to be big on "show not tell" for a couple of reasons: 1) in my RL/work writing, writing tight is really important; 2) I don't personally love reading stuff that's intensely introspective on the characters' part; and 3) I'm allergic to feelings generally. But writing with @bewires has been a really great way to challenge myself to bring more emotion into action and I think the end result of my writing is so much better for it.
In ch6 of "down for you always," Nicky and Joe hit the club after having a really extensive and lovely conversation about Joe's death and Nicky's life before he died. After dancing to A$AP Rocky, Joe has a bit of an epiphany:
A crystal-clear thought breaks through the tipsy haze that’s already settled over Joe’s brain: He could do forever with Nicky.
It’ll take awhile to really process the enormity of Nicky’s life, everything he’s done, the good and the bad, but Nicky’s shown him all of it.
And Joe doesn’t want him any less.
He knows who Nicky was—a man who hated people like Joe, but hated himself even more. He knows who Nicky is now—a man who’s spent lifetime after lifetime trying to make up for the person he used to be.
He’s more than that, though, Joe thinks. Nicky’s not just some archetypal antihero on an endless quest for redemption. He’s a real person, a person who will tell an embarrassing story about himself to make someone else feel better and explains clitic pronouns with endless patience, a person who gets up early to do nice things for other people and laughs at references he doesn’t totally get in the name of being a good sport.
He’s the best person Joe’s ever met.
Joe’s thirsted after guys before. He’s had crushes. Those feelings were always temporary, gone when the sun came up, or when things stopped being fun and easy. He’s only fallen asleep holding Nicky the last two nights, and he’s prepared to do anything to do that every night for the foreseeable future.
Whatever he feels for Nicky…
There are a lot of things about living basically forever that Joe’s not sure about. How he feels about Nicky isn’t one of them.
The above bit of Joe's POV was added after most of the chapter was written, and writing it did not come easy, because, y'know, feelings. Reflection. Yada yada. But it was crucial to explain Joe's thought process in the scene at the end of the chapter:
Nicky’s arm hooks around his waist. “I’ve got you,” he says, and when Joe turns his face, their noses brush. Nicky sucks in a stuttering breath and licks his lips, and Joe can feel what’s about to happen.
Nicky’s going to kiss him.
He can imagine it—the press of Nicky’s soft lips, the glide of his wet tongue, the taste of liquor in his mouth. It’ll probably be messy, a little sloppy, because he can tell Nicky’s at least a little drunk too, accent thicker and movements a little less precise. There will be hands, reaching out for whatever they can find, clutched in hair and tugging at clothes. The kiss will have a bit of a soft, fuzzy quality to it, because Joe’s had a lot of shots, and everything is kind of blurred at the edges, a brownout state he’s very familiar with.
When Joe remembers his first kiss with Nicky, he wants everything to be sharp, in focus, crystal clear.
Nicky’s nose touches Joe’s again as he tilts his head.
“Um,” Joe says loudly. “I’m kinda fucked up.” He stares at a point over Nicky’s shoulder, already regretting his self-cockblock.
Throughout the entire fic, Joe and Nicky thirst after each other, but where the conflict comes in is that Nicky knows he can't just have a casual thing with Joe, since he's joined the immortal gang, and he doesn't want to have just a casual thing with Joe. And before they could actually fuck, it felt really important that Joe felt the same so they were emotionally equally invested each other and on the same page. This is where it really clicked for Joe, and I'm really pleased with how it turned out (and how it set us up to let them fuck in the next chapter, obv).
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Assassination to Soulmates
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Soulmate AU)
Author’s Note: I see a lot of soulmate type pov’s on tik tok and decided to write one of my own, and here it is. I did not expect it to be so long... oops. Uh, I really hope you enjoy it! Lemme know what you think, okay? I love feedback xox
"Mr. Pierce says that he needs to be eliminated," you hear a gruff voice say, and your brows furrow together, halting your footsteps.
You peek your head around the corner of the dark alleyway, seeing two men with guns in their hands and another man kneeling on the pavement.
"Well, we shouldn't be doing it right here," the other guy suggests and turns his head towards you. You quietly gasp and shuffle out of view before they could see you, feeling your heart pounding against your chest. "There could be eyes anywhere and then we'll get out asses chewed out."
"It's almost midnight, dude. There's no one out right now. C’mon, just fucking do it so I can go home."
You peek around the corner once more in time to see one of the men lift his gun before shooting the civilian in the head. Your eyes widen and a louder gasp leaves your throat, gaining the attention of the two gunmen.
"Goddamnit, I told you!" One of the men shouts and you start booking it down the street.
You start to hyperventilate as you can hear the footsteps running after you. A few gunshots are heard and you duck your head before running down a side street.
Fuck fuck fuck. You curse to yourself as you desperately try to find somewhere to hide. You eye the dumpster warily, not exactly wanting to jump into it but there's no way you're outrunning these guys.
You quickly throw the dumpster lid up and jump inside, resisting the urge to gag as you quietly close it afterward. You hold your breath as you hear the footsteps become louder, huffing and puffing leaving the men's lips.
"Goddamnit. She got away," one of them states and you chew on your lip, keeping your breathing steady.
"Not for long. We'll send him after her. Pierce will know what to do. C'mon," the other mentions and you wait a bit longer as their footsteps grow quieter.
You sit in the dumpster for what feels like forever before deciding to finally leave. Your heart beats quickly against your chest as you constantly look over your shoulder during your walk home.
Who were they?
Are they in a gang?
What did they mean by sending him after you? Who were they talking about?
Why did they kill that man?
So many questions go through your head as you shakily unlock your apartment door, slipping inside the dark space. You let out a deep breath and rest your head against the wooden object, feeling like you're going to vomit.
You lock your door behind you, deciding that you're not going to leave for a bit before things cool down.
It's been almost a week since the night you witnessed a murder. Almost a week you've been hiding out in your apartment, too scared to leave for anything. Your anxiety has heightened since that night and you find yourself pacing in your bedroom multiple times a day.
A sigh leaves your lips and runs a hand through your hair, deciding to take a bath to ease your mind. You strip yourself out of your night clothes before walking into the bathroom, turning the faucet on.
You wait a few minutes for the water to fill up, staring at the clearness as that night flashes through your memory. You shake your head before letting out another sigh, needing to get your mind off the horrible event.
You grab a bath bomb from under your sink and remove the plastic wrapping before dropping it into the tub. You step in and lower yourself into the steaming hot water, your hands gripping the edge of the tub so hard your knuckles are white.
"I can't live in fear forever," you say to yourself while sinking further into the water. You calm your nerves for almost an hour when your door opening catches your attention.
You quietly try to get out of the tub, leaving the water in it, and grab a towel from the rack beside you. You press your lips together as you tightly wrap the fluffy material around you, securing it before walking closer to the closed door.
Something crashes from the other room and your breath hitches in your throat, causing you to stumble into the shelving unit beside you. You wince as a few things get knocked off the shelf and you quickly turn the light off before hiding in the corner.
You suppress a scream when the bathroom door gets kicked open, the wooden structure coming off the hinges completely. What the fuck. Your eyes look towards the man who walks into the room, his long hair and the mask he's wearing covering his face.
You swallow the lump in your throat as your eyes come into contact with the metal arm he's repping. Who is this guy? You think to yourself as he walks farther into the room.
Taking a deep breath, you quietly sneak your way towards the open doorway without having the strange man notice you. A gasp leaves your lips as he turns around immediately, seeing his steel-blue eyes reflecting off the moonlight.
You quickly make a run for it, not making it very far as the man easily catches up. You go to open your front door when he slams you against it. A groan escapes your lips and you glance over your shoulder to see him raising his fist. You dodge his fist, crouching a bit as the metal fist bursts through the door.
Your heart pounds against your chest as he suddenly wraps his hand around your throat. Eyes widening in fear, you start to pry his metal hand off of you. You're gasping for air as his grip tightens and your eyesight begins to grow fuzzy. "P-Please…" you plead as best as you could, looking into the eyes of the man in front of you. "I-I won't say anything I swear. I'll move to a different country if I have to."
The man doesn't lighten his grip and you're sure that you're going to die here. Black dots begin to fill your vision as your struggling dies down. Your window shatters and the man gripping your throat suddenly lets go of you.
You fall to the floor, taking in deep breaths as you attempt to crawl away. You look towards your shattered window to see Captain America standing in your living room, relief filling your body as the two men begin to fight.
It doesn't take long before the metal-armed man jumps out the window, but not before looking back at you one more time. You cough a bit, gathering your oxygen back as your eyes begin to finally focus.
"You okay, Miss?" The Captain asks you while kneeling beside you.
You nod your head a bit before looking up at the man. "T-Thank you," you choke out and rest your head against the floor.
Captain America gently moves your head to look at your neck, seeing the skin already bruising. "Why was he after you?" He questions with a furrow on his brows.
You slowly sit up, letting out another cough as you rest your back against the wall. "I witnessed two people kill someone," you inform him and a hum leaves his lips.
"I'm Steve," he introduces while holding his right hand out for you to shake.
"Y/N," you tell him and raise your left arm to shake his hand, his blue eyes drifting towards the birthmark on your arm.
Steve tilts his head before looking up at you through your lashes. "Interesting mark," he mumbles and your cheeks flush, pulling your arm away from him. "My friend, Bucky… he used to have one just like it."
Your heart breaks at the past tense he uses, your eyes casting down to the unique shape on your arm. "Used? He- Is he dead?" You ask softly and Steve nods his head.
"It's strange though since he was born in 1917," Steve mentions and a short groan leaves your lips. Of course.
"Only I would have a soulmate that's not from this day and age," you sigh while subconsciously rubbing the mark. "I've kinda got used to the fact that I'll be alone, so I guess it's not so bad."
Steve frowns and lays a hand on top of yours. "You'll find someone. Whether it be your soulmate or not. Maybe there's another out there that has the same mark."
You nod your head, not wanting to talk about it and Steve moves to stand up. "Steve?" You ask and look up at him, gaining his attention. "What am I supposed to do? I-I can't stay here."
He smiles kindly at you and holds his hand out for you to take. "C'mon, I know a place where you can stay," he mentions and your lips part slightly and you grab a hold of his hand.
"So, this Winter Soldier is after her? Damn, he's got a lot of contracts," Sam mentions as you, him, Natasha, and Steve sit at the table.
Steve brought you to Sam's place, informing you that you can trust him to keep you safe. You fiddle with your fingers as you listen to their conversation, not making any attempt to say anything.
"Y/N?" Steve asks and you snap your head up, looking towards the man. "The three of us are going to leave. We've got some stuff to do, but please stay inside and out of sight, okay?"
You gulp and nod your head, mumbling your thanks to Sam. The black man smiles gently and waves his hand. "It's no problem. A friend of Steve's is a friend of mine. I'm glad to help," he tells you and you smile in reply.
Steve pats your shoulder, mumbling to you that it'll be alright before the three of them walk out the door. You wait a few minutes before standing up from your chair, walking towards the window to see if everything is clear.
A deep breath comes from your lips as you think how stupid this plan is, but you couldn't get Steve's friend he mentioned out of your head. You recall the blonde mentioning that Bucky was alongside him in the war before he fell from a train in Germany, so you decided to sneak to the museum to see if they have anything on him.
You grab one of Sam's hoodies that sits on the edge of the couch, quickly putting it on before walking out the front door. You shove your hands into the hoodie pocket while lowering yourself into the cab, telling the driver to bring you to the museum.
You pay the driver once you get to your destination before heading inside. You walk around the Smithsonian, taking in brief information as you suddenly find Bucky's memorial. You see a picture of him and Steve together, smiles on both of your faces, and your chest clenches.
He's cute. You think to yourself as you frown, seeing a full-body photo of the man and notice the unique birthmark on his left arm. You bring your hand to your mark, gently rubbing it as you silently wish you could've met him.
You've always been confused by the whole soulmate's thing. You've never heard about two people who lived in different generations having the same mark. It made you curious for sure, but you didn't know any expert on the matter.
You leave the Smithsonian after almost an hour when you hear screams in the distance. You throw your hood up, not wanting anyone who works with those two men to recognize you as your feet take you closer to the chaos.
You're hiding behind a few cars that have been knocked over and your breath hitches in your throat upon seeing the Winter Soldier and Steve fighting. You watch as Steve throws the soldier over his shoulder, noticing that his mask fell off in the middle of it.
Steve's eyes widen as the man slowly turns to face him and your eyes begin to widen as well. How's that… "Bucky?" He asks and the brunette tilts his head a bit.
"Who the hell is Bucky?" The Winter Soldier asks before going to raise his gun when Sam comes flying in, kicking him in the back.
You quickly leave the scene as Steve gets arrested by S.H.I.E.L.D., noticing Bucky walking down an alleyway and you stupidly decide to follow him. You keep your head down slightly as the two of you walk farther into the alley, trying to gather the courage to yell out to the man.
Your brows furrow together when you look back up to see the Winter Soldier disappeared. "What the-" you mumble and quickly turn around, finding yourself alone. You turn back around and let out a gasp as the soldier now stands in front of you.
His metal arm wraps around your throat once more, pressing you against the brick wall. "Who are you?" He asks and your eyes stare into his.
"I'm Y/N," you whisper and Bucky pulls out a knife. You panic slightly and grab a hold of his wrist, stopping him from stabbing you.
Flashes of the two of you together flood your minds, your chest rapidly rising and falling. Another gasp leaves your lips as the flashes fade and tears come to your eyes. The soldier suddenly lets go of you and stumbles back, a look of confusion on his face.
"What was that? What did you do?" He asks and you can hear the agitation in his voice.
"I-I didn't do anything," you stutter and place your hands up in defense. You swallow thickly and push the sleeve upon your arm, revealing the birthmark etched in your skin. "Do you… do you recognize this at all?"
Bucky's blue eyes dart down to your forearm, seeing the unique mark before furrowing his brows. He gently brings his hand to your arm, feeling his fingertips glide over your warm skin.
Before he has the chance to say anything a blunt force meets the side of your head, knocking you out instantly. Bucky manages to catch you before you fall, glancing to his left to see two agents standing beside him.
"Pierce needs you. Bring her too. He'll want to see her," he states before walking away.
You jolt awake when someone throws a cold bucket of water onto you, a yelp leaving your lips as you shake your head. "What-" you cut yourself off as you try to move your limbs only to find them restrained. You look around the room, seeing about five other agents standing around along with a few scientists.
Blue eyes meet yours and your breath hitches in your throat, seeing Bucky sitting in the chair across from you. "Buck-" you start but get cut off by the man beside you, your cheek stinging by the slap you received.
"Not a word," the man growls and you swallow the lump in your throat, nodding your head in reply.
The Winter Soldier stares off as the scientists work on his arm, looking to be lost in his mind. You jump when Bucky suddenly swings his metal arm, sending the scientist that's working on it across the room.
The guards raise their guns, aiming them at the man and you start to worry that they might kill him. Your cheat heaves rapidly as you keep your eyes on him, hearing the door to whatever room we're in opening before closing once more.
"Mission report," an older gentleman demands and you tear your eyes away from Bucky. "Oh, and a familiar face. A job you couldn't finish I see."
Bucky goes to move out of his seat when the older man walks towards me only to have two agents hold him back. You try to pry your hands from the restraints, wanting nothing more to be out of this place.
A gasp leaves your lips when the man slaps you in the same spot as the last slap you received. Tears spill from your eyes as the stinging almost becomes unbearable. "Leave her alone," Bucky suddenly says, causing the man in front of you to whirl his head around.
"Interesting," he goes and looks between the two of you, a smirk on his lips. "Now, what would be the reason why our asset would suddenly want to protect you?"
"Mr. Pierce," an agent pipes up causing the blonde to look towards the man standing beside you. The agent lifts your sleeve to reveal the birthmark on your arm. "We believe that they're somehow soulmates."
Pierce clicks his tongue before letting out a laugh. "That is interesting indeed, isn't it? I'll get to you later," he tells you and turns to face Bucky. "Mission report, now."
Bucky's eyes stay on yours and you can see a tinge of softness in them when Pierce crouches in front of him slightly. You jump once again when the older man backhands Bucky, the soldier whipping his head a bit before furrowing his brows.
"The man on the bridge," he mumbles and looks towards Pierce, "who was he?"
"You met him earlier this week on another assignment," Pierce tells him and Bucky's eyes dart towards yours.
"I knew him."
Pierce grabs the stool beside him before sitting down onto it. "Your work has been a gift to mankind. You shaped the century, and I need you to do it one more time. Society is at a tipping point between order and chaos, and tomorrow morning we're going to give it a push. But, if you don't do your part, I can't do mine. And HYDRA can't give the world the freedom it deserves," he explains to the soldier.
"But, I knew him," Bucky states once more before pressing his lips together. You can practically see his brain putting the pieces together about Steve and you're feeling relieved. Bucky looks back towards you once again, seeing an unreadable emotion in his blue eyes. "And she's my soulmate."
Pierce lets out a sigh and stands up from the stool, telling the scientist beside him to prep Bucky. "He's been out of cryo freeze too long," the man in the lab coat explains as your heart begins to pound in your chest.
"Then wipe him and start over."
"W-Wait," you whisper to yourself as the two scientists lean him back in the chair. Bucky places the mouth guard into his mouth when his eyes meet yours. His chest heaves quickly when he gets locked into place, his head leaning back as the electrode machine begins to descend onto his face. "Stop!"
You thrash in your chair as Bucky's muffled screams echo off the walls. Tears stream down your face as you squeeze your eyes shut, not being able to watch what's happening to him.
"What do we do with her?" An agent asks the older man and you can feel his eyes on you.
"Wait until he's done and then have him kill her," Pierce orders before walking out of the room.
A couple of the agents undo your restraints and lift you from your chair. You thrash and kick amongst their grasp, doing everything you can to get out of their death grip. Screams leave your lips as you look back towards Bucky, his screams stopping as the scientists finish the mind wipe.
"Bucky, please!" You desperately call for help as the two men throw you into a concrete room before shutting the door.
You pant heavily as you back up against the corner of the room, running a hand through your hair. You can faintly hear them ordering him around on the other side of the door and you look up at the ceiling, feeling like that’ll be the place you'll die in.
The door bursts open and you jump, cowering against the wall as Bucky walks into the room. His blue eyes are stone cold as he waltz's over to you before wrapping his hand around your throat for the third time.
"Bucky," you plead, your hand resting on his chest and you frown when the flashes don't play through your mind again. Your lip trembles and you gasp for air when his hand squeezes.
You slowly bring your hand to his face, gently stroking his cheek as you begin to grow dizzy. Memories from the first time you met the Winter Soldier plays through your head as you slowly lose oxygen.
Bucky releases you and you slump to the ground, growing unconscious as the brunette looks down at you. He can still feel your hand on his face as he glances over his shoulder.
I'm getting you out of here. He suddenly thinks to himself while coming up with a plan.
Bucky drags his fingertips up to your spine as you sleep peacefully, his lips peppering light kisses along your arm. A soft knock on the door makes the man glance over his shoulder to see Steve leaning against the frame of it.
"How is she?" He asks while crossing his arms over his chest.
"She's good. No major injuries which are good," Bucky sighs while slowly removing himself from the bed, making sure not to wake you.
The two men walk out of the room you and Bucky share, the ex-Winter Soldier looking back at you once more before quietly shutting the door. "How are you feeling? With all of this?" Steve asks, causing Bucky's brows to furrow.
"What do you mean?"
A slight laugh comes from Steve as the blonde looks towards him. "The whole Soulmate thing. Is it going well?" He clarifies.
"Oh, uh, yeah. It's going great. Other than the times that I tried to kill her when we first met, I'd say we're doing well," he explains and scratches at his jaw.
Bucky and Steve sit at the table in the main area, seeing some of the others watching whatever's playing on the television. "Do you still think about it? The time you two first met?" Steve mentions and Bucky sighs before nodding his head in response. "You know that it's been four years, right?"
"Doesn't stop me from thinking about it, Steve. Hell, I still think about the people I've wronged as the Winter Soldier," Bucky comments with a sigh, leaning his chin against the palm of his hand.
"Did she tell you what she did when she first heard about you?" Steve asks and Bucky furrows his brow before shaking his head. "It was right after you jumped out the window of her apartment. I noticed the mark on her arm and mentioned that you used to have a similar mark on your arm back in the day."
Steve notices you walk into the living area and you press your finger to your lips, silently telling him to not say anything.
"So, Y/N told me this a few years later but when I brought her to Sam's place to keep her safe… she snuck out to go to the Smithsonian to learn more about you. She thought you died in the war, and well, so did I obviously."
Bucky's heart flutters a bit at the story he's telling, fiddling with his fingers. "I just… I don't know how she feels about everything, you know? Like, we've never really actually talked about it," he sighs and you frown from behind him.
You drape your arms over his shoulder, causing the older man to jump in his chair before whipping his head back. "Hi, Buck," you whisper and feel him relax at the sound of your voice.
Bucky rests his flesh hand on top of yours and squeezes gently. "Hey. How long have you been standing there?" He asks and you chuckle in response, placing a kiss on his cheek.
"Long enough to know that you don't know how I feel," you inform him and Bucky's heart stops, not wanting you to find out this way. "Why don't we go talk?"
Your soulmate nods his head and stands up from the chair he's sitting in. You lace your fingers together and lead him back to your shared bedroom. Once inside the room, Bucky sits down on the edge of the bed and you climb onto his lap.
"What's going on inside that pretty head of yours?" You softly ask while running your hands through his now short hair.
Bucky's hands rest on your hips, gripping the soft flesh every few seconds as he takes a deep breath. "Do you ever wish that you had someone… normal? Someone who's not a murderer?" He questions and you shake your head immediately. "You didn't even think about it."
"I didn't have to. Bucky, I don't care if you used to be the Winter Soldier and that you once almost tried to kill me. That wasn't you. You were being brainwashed by a horrible group of people," you explain to him and his blue eyes soften at your words. You smile at him before leaning in to kiss his lips. "I love you in every way possible. You're funny, kind, dorky. Everything a girl could ever ask for. So, please, stop worrying about me."
"God, you're incredible. How did I get so lucky?" Bucky asks with a slight laugh, hiding his face in your neck.
Giggles leave your lips as you card your fingers through his hair, pressing gentle kisses to the side of his head. "We all need someone to keep us grounded. I'm just glad I got you."
Taglist: @jessalyn-jpeg @bumblebet-20 @queen-of-mischief
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kinda ooc oikawa, maybe part two or ill make a oikawa pov of this story
l/n y/n was the wallflower of the school she was beautiful but very antisocial
she was shy really shy
she swear she couldn't even talk normally without shuttering or blushing like a mad man
so it was no surprise why she was all alone in the corner of the room while the others were enjoying themselves in this supposed to be a party
she doesn't even know why she agreed to come to this party
when she know she'll just ends up standing all alone in the corner
y/n was waiting patiently for the party to be over so she could finally go home since she doesn't have the guts to tell the person hosting the party that she wants to go home
that was until y/n felt tap her in the shoulder
y/n turned around to see who it was there she saw oikawa tooru with his usual charming smile
"l/n y/n right?" oikawa asked his smile never leaving his face
"a-ah y-yes" y/n was now sweating and blushing furiously
how did he know her name?!
she know who oikawa was since he was very popular at their school not to mention the volleyball captain but she would never expect he'd even know her name
"i like your shoes" oikawa complemented gesturing at her nike sneakers
"t-thank you?" y/n replied which sounded more of a question looking down at her shoes
"you don't mind if i sit here right?" oikawa asked holding the back of the chair that was right beside her
"ah n-no of course"
"thank you" oikawa smiled sitting down at the chair
a couple of minutes have passed since oikawa decided to sit next to her
and that minutes were really awkward well at least for y/n
they were both just sitting in their chair looking at the other people in the party since none of them decided to speak
"so tell me why are you sitting here all alone?" oikawa broke the silent by asking her a question
"i-it's because uhm a-ahhh" y/n replied shakingly
"a-ah if you don't want to answer it it's ok" oikawa replied sweat dropping at her blushing state
"n-no it's ok i-ts just because i don't like crowded place or social interaction d-dont get me wrong i would gladly love too if only i wont always make a fool of myself everytime i open my mouth" y/n felt oddly relief after telling him that maybe it was because this was the longest conversation she had have besides her mother or maybe because she never really tell anyone what she just said to him
after along time the both have continued talking in fact they just found out they have a lot of things in common
like their both love for aliens
"do you wanna ditch this party?" y/n asked which both surprise both herself and oikawa she doesn't even know why she said that or how she said that
"yes of course" before y/n could say something oikawa took her wrist and guide her out of the house
"so what do you wanna do?" oikawa asked looking at y/n
"i-i don't know"
and here they were currently in the play ground swinging at the swings
let's just say they both have the best times of their life
the only sound heard was the creaking of the swings
it was silent but not in a awkward way but in a peaceful way
y/n was looking up in the sky where it was full of stars
"your kinda pretty" oikawa suddenly said
y/n was of course surprise at his sudden statement
y/n looked at oikawa there she saw his lovesick gaze his eyes full of admiration lips form into a small line
"t-thank you y-you too y-your really p-pretty w-wait i m-mean h-handsome" y/n replied causing oikawa to snap out of his gaze
that's also when he realize what he just said
"i-i thank you i mean i k-know"
● this fanfic is highly inspire by the song just my type by poppy
● none of this characters originated from me
☪ all rights reserved please do not steal or claim that it's yours
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When Our Worlds Collided (13 - fin)
Summary : Acting in shows and having a massive fan base Jensen's life was going alright until one day he woke up and found out that he is zapped into the universe where he is not a star and the character he played is real.
Ship : Jensen ackles x Winchester Reader, Sam x Allison (ofc)
Warnings : some fluff I guess, implied smut
Square Filled : Baby sitter
Word Count : 1272
Characters : you, Jensen, Sam, Dean, Allison (ofc), mentions of Bobby and few ocs
Created for @acrosstheuniversebingo
A/N : Can't believe this series just came to an end. Let me know your thoughts on this through an ask or whichever you prefer. I'm gonna miss these two. Long Way From Home last parts will be posted after this. Thanks a lot for reading this series. @katelynw93 thanks a lot for being an amazing beta. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Posting it ahead of my schedule!! Surprise!
Ps, catch up with the series here
*1 and ½ year later*
He opened his eyes as he felt a weight on him and saw a naked Y/N sleeping peacefully on his chest. He slowly kissed the top of her head and let his lips break into a little smile. “Staring at someone who is asleep is a little creepy,” she teased as her voice vibrated against his bare chest.
“I wouldn't say that. It's romantic, haven't you seen Twilight?” He asked as she opened her eyes to meet with his own.
“I did, and in case you forgot, you're not a vampire and even if you were one, your head would be lying on the floor by now,” she gave a threatening reply.
“Ooh scary, Mrs Ackles,” he said and leaned in close to kiss her on the lips.
That kiss escalated from a simple peck to a passionate one very quickly. They both stopped and looked at the door, however, when they heard two loud knocks. “Ugh,” Jensen sighed and they both quickly got dressed. “Y/N, I guess he needs a diaper change,” they heard Dean complain.
She silently chuckled, “Where's Sam?” she asked as she picked their son up.
“Ah! You know him; he went to maintain his body and everything,” Dean informed her.
After they had their son, Jensen had to leave again due to him being an actor, but luckily he got a break later and he used that three months of freedom to stay with Y/N and their son. Dean had thrown a punch at his face for knocking up his sister, but that’s all just water under the bridge now.
Dean and Sam both adored his one year old a lot. He had a hard time explaining to his parents about Y/N, but he somehow managed to make them understand what had actually happened.
After that, he got married to Y/N. Allison had a hard time pretending to the media that Y/N is actually her twin sister, but thanks to her good acting skills, she convinced them. Y/N got some hate from fans, but they were able to get past that and the fans made their peace with Y/N marrying Jensen eventually.
He stepped out of the room and went to see Y/N rocking little Samuel Dean to sleep. He smiled and went close to her, “So did you think about it?” He asked with a little grin.
“No, Jensen. It's not happening,” she replied with her voice a little above a whisper, careful not to wake up the little one in her arms.
“Why not? Little Sammy could totally use the company,” he suggested.
“Oh, did he tell you that?” she asked, raising her brows at him.
“Kind of..” he whispered in her ear. She just rolled her eyes and didn't care to argue about it. She put him to bed and went to Dean.
With all the spells they've gotten over the years, they found a way to travel between universes. Dean loved coming back to Jensen’s world, considering he could use all the luxury and the showers that his brother-in-law provided. Sam, on the other hand, found it kind of annoying how Dean showed no shame in enjoying all the privileges.
Bobby didn't travel, but whenever Y/N went back to their world, he spent a good amount of time with their son. Jensen’s mind wandered back to the first time he met Y/N; sure, she looked like his best friend and all that. He fondly smiled at the memory of her calling him Justin and the time when she patched him up, after he had foolishly stabbed himself with the blade.
In fact, he fondly smiled at every single memory he had with her whenever he stayed there. Especially the memory of when he kissed her for the very first time. Lately he's been trying his hardest to convince Y/N to have another baby with him, but it hasn’t really seemed to work . She kept complaining about the morning sickness, which he felt a little bit bad about the fact that he wasn't there for her during that time.
“Y/N, please think about it again. We can have one more,” he requested of her again.
“Why Jensen? Why do you wanna have another baby so badly?” She asked, raising her brows at him and crossing her arms over her chest.
After Castiel died, you never thought you would ever fall in love again but meeting Jensen proved you wrong. You fell for him more and more every single day, but that didn’t mean you wanted to have another baby. You were not ready to go through the whole pregnancy thing again.
So, when he practically begged you to have another baby, you really wanted to understand. “Why Jensen? Why do you wanna have another baby so badly?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest and raising your brows at him.
“Because Y/N.. I.. want to experience the whole thing with you. The whole thing, the first kick, feeling the life we created together, Y/N. I want to experience it all,” he said with desperation filling his voice. You smiled adorably at him as he made his point but you just pretended to ignore everything he said when he gazed at you.
Sam finally came back from the gym and it looked like he cleaned up in between. For some reason, he was in his best look that day.
You stared at him suspiciously. “What?” He asked you, “nothing, you just don't usually clean up this well,” you said what was on your mind.
“Oh well… I..” he stuttered as he was at a loss for words.
“It's for his girlfriend,” Dean said, coming to the room where you all stood right now.
“Girlfriend?” you asked in surprise. “Wow.. really.. who is she?” you asked your husband's look-alike.
“She said she'd be here in a few,” Dean answered.
“Seriously?! How did I not know about this?” you asked them.
“Yeah how did we not know about this?” Jensen joined you.
“Well you do now,” Sam answered.
“Alright, who is this girl?” you asked him.
“You'll find out,” Sam said and went to check himself.
You went to open the door as you heard the bell. You stood there in shock “Allison?” you asked as you let her in. Your look-alike glanced at you and then looked away. Sam came out and Allison blushed at the sight of him. “Wait… you and Allison?” you asked in surprise.
“Kind of.. yes,” Allison answered hesitantly. You were speechless after finding out about it.
“Wait, that's the reason you keep coming here so often?” Jensen asked Sam and he nodded in response.
Sam stepped closer to Allison and pulled her into a kiss. You and Jensen exchanged glances, and you went near him when he threw his arm around your shoulder. You both stared at the couple you just found out about, watching as they slowly started falling in love, which made you feel nostalgic.
Later, Jensen gave Sam the talk because Allison is his best friend and he felt protective of her. Dean just rolled his eyes at him, but Sam let him give the lecture because he too gave that same lecture to Jensen when he asked you to marry him.
After that you pulled Jensen aside, “I think I'm ready for another one,” you whispered in his ear.
“Really?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you with excitement in his voice.
“Really.” you confirmed and pulled him into a kiss.
Team Forever : @valsworldofcreativity @akshi8278 @hobby27 @spngi
Team free will : @flamencodiva @stoneyggirl @flashxspn @pink-sparkly-witch @wonderfulworldofwinchester @thoughts-and-funnies @kickingitwithkirk @msmarvelouswinchester @vicmc624 @mrswhozeewhatsis @adriennemichelle98 @malikjavaddzayn @donnaintx @squirrelnotsam @wonder-cole
Team flannel : @lyarr24 @deandreamernp @beabutterfly987
Series tags : @supernatural-bellawinchester @oneofthewinchestergirls67 @phirephly09
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Not by the Moon | 07
Genre: Smut, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Drama, Tragedy, Werewolf AU, Supernatural AU, Bookshop AU
Pairing: Bookshop keeper!/Werewolf!JB x Reader
Warnings: A philosophical slant, (heavy) angst, Werewolf!Jaebeom being absolute hubby material, Werewolf!Jaebeom being awkward and (a bit of a) pervert, domestic fluff, talk of medication, apparently werewolves don’t like to wear clothes (what is my canon...), talk of life and death, mention of blood, mild swearing
Summary: Every story has a purpose or goal it is dedicated to, their authors at times going to great lengths to see the project they once started to completion. Nevertheless, the things the writers swore on to see their latest art piece to completion are static.
None of them swore by the Moon nor Love because they can solely genuinely swear on all that changes like themselves.
And yet, a wolf in love foolishly swore by the moon.
That is when Time truly started ticking.
Author’s Note: This chapter is from Jaebeom’s POV.
Well, here it is, earlier and much longer than originally planned. It’s also a lot more tragic and philosophical than I intended it to be, but then again, what else can you expect from a tragedian fascinated by the human condition even as it is translated into the realm of the magical?
I think I just thought of the modern literary movement I might belong to: magic realism.
It’s a crying shame the Decadent Movement isn’t active anymore, though, because that one truly feels like a good fit for me both as an author and an individual. Ah well, c’est la vie.
Previous Chapter / Next chapter
There is nothing better for a wolf than being with its mate.
Well, there is one thing.
Having them completely at your mercy as you’re inside them.
I still don’t understand what the plastic wrapping is good for, but Jinyoung was very insistent on using it while we drove to the airport. And Y/N seemed glad I had whatever it is, her scent even betraying a hint of relief. However, one day, I hope she’ll tell me not to use it.
No, that’s not right. There’s a word for the… whatever it is.
That’s the word.
I hope she’ll tell me not to use a condom. It doesn’t matter whether I’m in season or not, although the chances she’ll pup are higher if I am. I want pups with her, a little pack of our own. I want it to be our toddler running around the park, chasing its sibling. Then again, will I remain human long enough to see them grow up?
Will I even remember their birth on the day they’re born?
Will I still be here?
Or remain without a family, a proud bloodline?
I slowly open my eyes, blinking a few times to get used to the sunlight bathing the room in a warm golden hue, swallow hard and force myself to calm down. There is no use in contemplating this now, not this early in the day nor in our time together. What counts is that I’m here now with Y/N in my arms and we’re in her apartment somewhere.
A faint whiff of brine seeps in through the air cleaner filter above the window overlooking the city. A gull flies by and lands on the roof of the building opposite ours.
Sea. Rusted metal. Right, the old harbour.
A high-pitched noise, a disquiet hum followed by a sigh, makes my ears perk up. I look down at the lady sleeping on my chest, curled up and fingers balled into small fists similar to a bunny’s paws. More importantly, however, she’s perfectly alright and was only unconsciously trying to get more comfortable.
A breathless chuckle rises in my throat at the display. Y/N’s adorable even when she’s fast asleep, her lips parted yet not enough to allow drooling.
I, on the other hand, am another story. I don’t do it often, but I must have been so tired last night I triggered the habit. The finger I swipe over the corners of my mouth comes away wet both times.
Oh no, I didn’t drool on her, did I? Would she mind, though, if I explained it’s a sign I’m comfortable with her?
It isn’t hard to guess the answer to the question. She would beat me over the head, likely with a shoe, and say I’m not allowed to bite her at all anymore. Not even in the future.
In a hurry to discover whether I made the fatal mistake, I check her messy hair but keeping my movements controlled to not wake her up. Fortunately, there are no locks sticking together nor a trail running down over the side of her face.
With a deep sigh, I slump further down into the bed again and kiss her crown. However, I don’t go back to sleep despite the comfort of the sheets. Instead, I lift the lady’s head and gently put her down on the pillow as I get up, carefully calculating every movement like I do when hunting to make sure she won’t wake up or notice my absence in her unconscious state.
The faint smell of burned iron comes from somewhere when I rearrange the sheets to bundle Y/N up. My mouth dries up, throat blocked by something I can’t swallow as a familiar stench disturbs the morning happiness. Former intentions abandoned, I claw through the sheets to try and discover where the rank odour comes from.
Did I hurt her? Is she bleeding? Why is she bleeding? Where is it? Where’s the blood?
As suspected, the frantic search wakes the pretty lady. Propped up on an elbow, eyes half-closed and brows furrowed, she turns to me. “Jae, what-’’ she yawns, “What’re you doing?”
Barely has she asked the question or I find what I’ve been looking for.
On her side of the bed, between her thighs, is a puddle of dried blood.
Where did it come from? Did I… Did I do this?
I grab her by the shoulders and pull her close to check her condition, turning her this way and that as each thought grows more troubled. “Are you okay?” There’s nothing to see on the bare skin of her upper body. “Are you hurt?”
Maybe the wound is somewhere lower, on her hip or leg. I didn’t bite her last night. Right? I didn’t hurt her. At least, I don’t think I did. No. Surely the wolf- I wouldn’t harm her. I had enough control to prevent that from happening. Yes, that’s the case.
But then, with a fading mind, how much can I trust myself?
“Jaebeom, I’m fine. What are you- ah.” Y/N notices the spot of dark crimson when I pull the sheets completely off the bed and toss them aside. She lets out an incomprehensibly careless chuckle, evidently oblivious to the gravity of the situation.
“What are you giggling about? Y/N, you’re bleeding!” I bark, lost.
A small paw cups my cheek, her thumb caressing the skin in an attempt to calm me down. “You took my virginity. It’s natural to bleed a little when that happens.”
“Are you still in pain?” Even though it’s natural, surely it’s not without repercussions. Otherwise, the stain wouldn’t be there.
“No, I’m not, silly. I’m okay.” She kisses the tip of my nose when I let out a whine, unhappy with the response. Withal, a curious tone in her voice overtakes my own displeasure. “Are you?”
Why do you say it like that?
She sounds weird, hinting at something I’m supposed to find as obvious as she. Yet, I have no clue about what it can be. So, I tilt my head and stare blankly at her, waiting for an explanation. “I’m fine.”
My choice of words makes her visibly flinch despite the effort to hide it. The sleepiness which glazed her eyes evaporated, leaving them devoid of the amusement at my failure as a human. The recognizable sour note of anxiety creeps back into her scent, setting off alarm bells in my mind. “I’m alright. No pain. Happy to be here. Happy to wake up next to you.”
I rub her arms in a poor attempt to make her calm down, have her scent return to its spring-like fruitiness. She is supposed to smell like fresh fruit still hanging from the trees, yet to ripen. Not like fallen fruit beginning to decay in the summer sun.
“Okay,” is all she says in response before she pulls away, the absence of the warmth of her palm sending a cold shiver throughout my body.
The world always seems a little colder without her.
“Want breakfast?” A low grumble pierces the silence following the question, giving me enough of a response. And a reason to get my head, no, that’s not the idiom. To get my thoughts ordered. Organized. To get my thoughts in order? To think about… stuff. Last night. This. Everything. “Never mind. I’m making you breakfast. You have to eat.”
I stand up and head for the bathroom to first get rid of the weird plastic wrapping she put on me last night. Having thrown it in the bin there after a bit of an awkward struggle removing it, I move to the kitchen. Nevertheless, I don’t start preparing food right away. Instead, I pick up the grey hoodie I gave her from the bag between the sofa and chair facing the kitchen. I remember how she held it up to her nose, breathed in and basked in the scent.
A fragment of last night’s memory.
I remember we had sex and that she told me I’m her first, but afterwards things are blurry.
Smell. I said something about how nicely she smells. Not really an original compliment since I’ve said it a lot already, but I can’t help but focus on it.
Then instinct took over because I let it, thinking I’d remain in control even though I let go a little. After all, I’ve learned enough to know how to deal with the wolf inside thanks to the rehabilitation procedure Jinyoung put me through and supervised. Since then, there’s been a healthy balance between human and beast in my mind.
Or, rather, there was one.
Another boundary to watch out for. I have to keep myself in check. No more experimenting.
Because to do so is to forget.
And I want to remember.
I stop absent-mindedly thumbing the piece of clothing, drape it over the armrest of the sofa and head into the kitchen to make breakfast. Unfortunately, the fridge quickly brings my plan to a halt, empty except for a pack of soy milk and a tray of eggs. The groceries Jinyoung and I got were only enough for dinner last night and there are no leftovers.
To be fair, she did just come back from a trip abroad. But still, is there really nothing to work with?
I sigh in defeat and grab the plant-based milk to pour it over the apple and cinnamon granola I find in the cupboard above the sink. At least it’s food and drink in one meal.
From the drawer next to the oven, I grab two spoons which I put into the bowls, grab the hoodie from the couch and return to the bedroom.
Y/N sits with her back turned to me, but flips around a little too fast for my liking once she hears my paws approaching. “Jaebeom?”
The terrible mixture of barely suppressed horror and genuine concern in her gaze has translated into her voice, which is cold and calculating. The sour note of anxiety hasn’t faded from her scent, creating a stone to sink to the bottom of my stomach because there’s only one thing that can be a distressing factor this early in the day.
Withal, the reason why she’s scared puzzles me since I haven’t done anything out of the ordinary. I’ve simply been me since I woke up.
Although, that’s me now.
Last night, I don’t know who or what I was though it isn’t hard to guess.
The pretty lady traces the deep indentation in the headboard of the bed with her fingers bent to resemble a claw. “Did you do this?”
Did- Did I? No. I- I don’t know. I was less strict with myself last night and don’t remember much, but surely I wasn’t gone enough to do this.
I’m not sure.
But the reality provides the necessary evidence to repute any kind of denial I can offer.
I set the bowls down on the nightstand and crawl back on the bed to sit next to her. Gently, I nudge her hand aside to mimic her action, my own fingers perfectly fitting into the large gash. “I don’t know.”
A surge of violence shoots throughout my body, triggering the nagging feeling of a forgotten memory strong enough to knock the air out the lungs and split my skull with flashes of a memory. Nevertheless, the fragments pass by too fast to make sense of them and the mere attempt to do so worsens the headache. I flinch and scramble backwards with a paw- a hand pressed to my head as if I can thus suppress the pain. Yet, I remain unable to look at anything but the damage.
“I don’t know,” I repeat, my voice hardly louder than a scared whisper.
“I felt your skin move beneath my fingers last night,” Y/N starts, catching my attention with the timid response suggestive of requiring more explanation.
Exactly what I don’t have since I can’t even explain it myself.
This shouldn’t be happening.
“I think I did, at least,” she adds doubtfully on a shivery breath. The sourness sweetens to doubt instead of anxiety. Nonetheless, it’s still worrying she’s ill… uncomfortable.
“Did I-“ I swallow hard, forcing out the words describing my worst nightmare. “Did I transform?”
“Transform?’’ She briefly turns her gaze from me to the indentation, lips parted in an attempt to articulate a thought that’s dismissed with a headshake the second thereafter. Her attention returns to me, her expression slackened. ‘’What are you- What… No, you didn’t, but you looked far away. Retreated further into your own world, more so than you normally are.”
“That’s good,” I mumble, nodding as I, too, briefly return my attention to the claw mark. “Was human. Good.”
Still, need to talk to the weird-smelling intruder. Doctor. Friend. Name, his name. Jinyoung. Jesus, man, get yourself together. Your name is Im Jaebeom. You’re a twenty-eight old werewolf that- no, who runs a bookshop called Paper Souls. Jinyoung is your friend, doctor and supervisor appointed to you by... by... some organization.
“Jaebeom,” the pretty lady puts her hand on my shoulder, features softened instead of frozen and marred by fear, “have you taken your medication yet?”
The natural fruity undertone seems forced to be stronger.
You should be scared. I might have- I made that claw mark. Why treat me like a human? I’m a wolf.
“Me- Med-“ The strange word barely registers until a spark of humanity recalls its definition. “Medication. Pills. No, I- I haven’t.”
“Let me grab a glass of water and get them.”
She ruffles my hair, jumps off the bed and rushes out of the room. I listen to her bare feet lightly treading the floor as she moves on the other side of the wall, hurried steps going from the hallway, where she rummages in my coat for the rattling bottle of pills, to the kitchen. There, she opens a cupboard to grab a glass. The loud clinking of glass alongside the sour undertone in her scent indicates she almost accidentally caused several to fall out and break on the tiles. Fortunately, judging by the deep sigh of relief, Y/N could prevent it from happening.
She turns on the tab, fills the glass with water, turns the tab off and walks back into the room.
“There you go,” she says, handing me the small brown bottle and water.
The mattress dips a bit when she sits down next to me with one of the bowls filled with cereal in her hands. After stirring the spoon around like she is trying to evade something, Y/N finally takes a first careful bite. Nevertheless, she starts eating properly after I kiss her temple, which is an apparently effective form of encouragement. I have to remember that.
Quietly seated in the golden sunlight, we have our first breakfast together. I don’t mind her watching me as I’m taking my medication, measuring out the amount Jinyoung told me to take. Or, rather, as much as the label notes I should. Immediately my gag reflex is triggered when I put them in my mouth, the taste of bitter metal extremer than before so it’s like licking one of the rusted over buoys drifting in the harbour.
He’s increased the nightshade and silver. Damn, I think even the worst coffee tastes better than this.
“Yep.” I open and close my mouth, nauseous due to the sickening taste lingering on my tongue. To prevent the bile rising in my throat from escaping, I gulp down the water. Unfortunately, it only washes down part of the bitterness.
She holds up a spoon with milk-soaked granola to feed to me, but I turn it down and shake my head. I might actually throw up if I eat anything right now.
Disappointment flashes across her face, though it’s gone in an instant as she puts her bowl down and stands up. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.”
“But... food,” I meekly offer and point at the half-empty bowl on the nightstand. She should put herself before me.
Because I’ll be fine.
“We’re missing something important. Coffee,” the bunny-like lady playfully responds before she bounces off again to the kitchen.
The pleasant and slightly sweet scent of instant cappuccino warms the apartment, replacing the sharp scent of frozen water alluding to hail later on in the day. It’s a little early in the year, but soon the first snows will fall.
Hopefully, she’ll move before then so we can spend Christmas in her cottage. Although, it doesn’t even have to be the holidays. I’d light a fire, drape a blanket over our shoulders and keep Y/N close to warm her with mine as we read and look at the snowfall.
Like a snowflake falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling before our eyes, so we pass through life. At this rate, I think the next snowfall might be the last I’ll see.
Like a human.
The snowflake will faintly fall on the man I am, descend on the husk I’m becoming, while she will continue living.
The living and the dead.
I smile wistfully until the same shot of pain treks through me as when I tried to fill in the gaps of the fragmented memory. Folded in on myself, cold sweat on my skin and short of breath, I press my palms against my snout to push the agony away.
The pained groaning must have alarmed the pretty lady because she rushes to my side and pushes one of the mugs in her little paws… hands in mine. “Here, take a sip. The caffeine will help.”
As told, I nip at the hot beverage. Indeed, the cappuccino lessens the headache and cold shivers that ran down my spine and threatened to spread. Though I dislike instant coffee, it actually tastes good when she prepares it. I sigh in relief, blow on the coffee to cool it down, and slowly drink it while Y/N caresses my jaw and ear just the way I like it. At the same time, she comforts me with her soothing voice, murmuring words of solace and assurance as she sits down next to me again.
I could listen to you all day. Maybe I should ask you to read to me sometime. Although, not maybe. I’ll ask it later. Note to self, write a note on your phone to ask her to read to you. Also, make note of kissing her temple.
My reverie is broken up by a comment which rubs me the wrong way. “I have to go to the office later today-’’
“Already? You just got home.”
“They’re counting on me, Jae. Besides, I’m not that jet-lagged.”
“It’s not healthy. You should stay home. Rest,” I bark. Her eyes widen, taken aback by my bluntness.
She opens and closes her mouth, planning to say something yet deciding against it. Instead, she tugs my ear. “I’ll be fine. And you have your shop to look after, so let’s both work hard today.”
“Still,” I take another sip, “I don’t think you should go.”
“As long as I have caffeine, I should be able to manage. How about this? I’ll come to your shop as soon as I’m done with work and cook for us. We’ll have a cosy night in like we had last night.”
“Last night was ‘cosy’ indeed,” I murmur, hoping she catches on to what I’m alluding to.
“It was. I really liked it.” Her lashes flutter with the memories of last night, cheeks tinged pink. Unfortunately, the heartstopping girlish giggle is short-lived and becomes serious too soon. “But while I did, I think we shouldn’t do it again so soon.”
“Agreed,” I respond, mind occupied by the ripples of transformation and the splashes of pain wanting to remember something significant only communicated in incomprehensible flashes.
Like the memories of the forest.
I need to call Jinyoung. He needs to know.
“What shall we eat tonight?”
The change in subject is welcome, but also a confusing bridge to cross. How can humans go from severe to casual without a care? The aspect of communication has me furrow my brows as I try to work out the mech… work… nuts and bolts behind it. Nevertheless, I answer the question. “I thought you had a plan already.”
The corners of her mouth curl up into a cat-like grin. “I have no idea, so that’s why I’m asking you. You’re a better chef than I am.”
“I’m not that good,” I murmur, my ears lowered like a shy pup. “But I’d like something we can make together.”
“Yes!’’ I bark, leaning in and grabbing the sheets to contain the excitement at cooking together. ‘’Yes, I’d like that!”
A flicker of doubt passes over her face, hesitant in the way she tends to be when it concerns food. However, a second later, she taps me on the nose with a content hum. “Pancakes it is.”
While Y/N showers, I clean the dishes and pull the sheets off of the bed so she can bring them to the laundry. Although, maybe I could do it myself. I’d have to text Jinyoung for instructions since he always does mine, but even then it shouldn’t be too difficult. Humans do laundry all the time. It’s part of their routine and if they can do it, so can I.
As I’m making the bed and contemplating the process to get at least the blood stain out of the fabric, my mate walks back into the room. Her wet hair is bundled up in a towel that’s smaller than the one wrapped around her body. The addition of the scents of cherry blossoms and matcha to the blend of summer fruits drives me dizzy as she moves to the wardrobe.
I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help looking as the towel falls to the floor to reveal her naked body. An appreciative growl unconsciously rises from my throat, a surge of heat culminating between my legs.
Just one more time. I’ll keep myself in check. Behave. I’ll behave.
“Jaebeom,” cheeks flushed, Y/N glances over her shoulder, “don’t even think about it.”
“Sorry,” I mumble as I shuffle to her side to help her put on her bra by closing the clasps. When they click in place, I place a kiss between her shoulder blades, feeling her shiver against my lips. “I know what we agreed on.”
I wrap my arms around her waist and let my head rest on her shoulder. Eyes closed, I try to keep a clear mind as she scratches me behind the ear.
“It’s not necessarily... that.” Her voice is light, wanting to move past the concerns of last night with humour. “It’s rather the thought I wouldn’t get to leave for the office at all if we go back to bed.”
“You’re right.” I decide to play along, if only to give us both some peace of mind. So, I bury my nose in the side of her neck, nuzzling her and earning myself a bird-like giggle that spreads a nice fuzzy feeling inside. “I wouldn’t let you go. We’d read the day away with coffee.”
“Tea, in your case. Doctor’s orders. I don’t want you bouncing around the place. You’re my calm, well, sort of calm bookish wolf. Not a supercharged husky.”
It’s a lame joke, but nevertheless makes me laugh.
“What will you wear today?” I ask, glancing at the clothes on the hangers.
Here and there, there’s a colourful item in the collection. Withal, the majority of the items are mono… one-toned... black and white items to be switched up with a dark-shaded checkered blouse.
My attention drifts to the long white dress with lemons. The fabric is on the thin side, which makes it suitable for summer or a warm spring.
I’d love to see you in that dress, if only just once.
She pouts her lips. “I was thinking about grey high-waisted jeans with a black button-up shirt and ankle boots.”
“Wear my hoodie,” I whine, upset my… my girlfriend. That sounds nice. My girlfriend. It makes me upset that my girlfriend doesn’t plan on wearing one of the things I gave her. “You like the grey one, right?”
“I do, but-’’
“Then wear it.”
She sighs, shakes her head and turns around to look up at me. “There’s something like a dress code at the office.”
“Don’t care.” I nudge her nose with mine, bark lowered to a woof to persuade her to go with my choice. “You’ll look better. More pretty.”
“If you put a pair of boxers on, I’ll wear the hoodie. Deal?”
“But they’re uncomfortable. I only wore them because Jinyoung told me to.”
“Then I won’t wear the hoodie.” Little devilish will-o’-the-wisps light up her eyes as the corners of her mouth curl up into a taunting grin. “Shame. Now my colleagues won’t get to see I have a boyfriend.”
The tables have flipped since I’m apparently not the only one who’s good at using their charms.
Nevertheless, reluctant to start a fight over this, I let out a compromising chuff. “Okay, fine.”
Humans and their clothes. I like yours, but you’d look even better in mine. Still, I’m only doing this because I want every male at your office and in the city to know you’re mine.
No matter what size they are, clothing is a thing I absolutely haven’t missed. Notwithstanding, to please my mate, I wriggle myself back into the tight short trousers and the loose pants to wear over them. Y/N gives me a warning look when she sees me fumbling with my shirt, hopefully missing out on the obvious clue I secretly hope she’ll let me off easy.
Of course she doesn’t.
“Yes, Jae, also the shirt,” she chastises me like a mother disciplines a rebellious pup. “And the shoes. You don’t want other people to call the cops after seeing a naked man in the streets.” Unaware of the fact I can hear her perfectly even as she mutters under her breath, she adds. ‘’Or me to pick you up at the police station because of it.’’
Amused by the funny image the fantastical scenario creates in my mind, I relent. “Yes, ma’am.”
Once we’re both dressed, Y/N makes way for the bathroom to do her makeup. Ignoring my protests it’s unnecessary since there’s nothing to hide or improve to make me love her more, she closes the door behind her and locks it.
There goes the plan of dragging her out of there by the collar to have her scratch my jaw and ear again instead. A much better way to pass the time, if you ask me.
In the meanwhile, I return to the bedroom to take a picture of the damage with my phone and send it to Jinyoung.
Jaebeom: We need to talk.
Immediately, I get a response.
Jinyoung: Yes, we absolutely do. Everything OK?
Jaebeom: Yes, Y/N is fine. Alive. A little shaken, but so am I. Well, we’re more than a little shaken. Fuck, Jinyoung, I don’t know what happened.
Jinyoung: I’ll drop by later today. I have to give a lecture in a bit and have to see a new patient afterwards. He’s going through the reintegration program right now and needs a little extra help.
Jaebeom: Help with what? What is he?
Jinyoung: A wolf. Not a standard case.
Jaebeom: Anything I can help with?
Jinyoung: I think you need to focus on yourself right now. I’ll be at the shop around two.
Footsteps disturb the silence, going from the bathroom to the hallway.
That was quick. Are females always this fast with applying their face?
It’s a funny phrase, ‘applying my face’. Also, it’s the argument the pretty lady used as the final word on the matter. But she already has a face so there’s no need to apply a second like some Greek god.
“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Ears perked, I glance around the corner into the living room and in Y/N’s direction.
“Work?” she answers sheepishly, looking back at me with her head slightly tilted to the side. In her hands is the black trench coat she was about to put on.
Fortunately, she’s kept her makeup natural with a golden brown eyeshadow, a bit of a black line to accentuate her eyes and something to enhance her lashes. It’s a natural look which some of the female customers could learn from with their fake lips or chest that makes them reek of silicone and plastic. Their makeup, often overemphasizing their fake features, doesn’t add to their supposed charm. In fact, it makes me turn my snout away even faster if their attitude already hasn’t.
I’d never offer them coffee or want them around more than once.
But not her.
I can’t remember if she wore the same makeup when we met, but I vaguely recall a sense of calm and need for protection alongside a strange recognition. A connection that would make all the puzzle pieces of my life fit together.
The missing last piece.
“Not so fast.” I swiftly move to her side to kiss her forehead. No way I’m letting her go without giving her at least one more.
“There,” I pet her head, griggling and sweeping my tail triumphantly, “now you’re free to go.”
“I wouldn’t have gone without telling you, you know?” She stands on the tip of her toes to peck me on the lips, slightly swaying side to side to keep her balance.
So I lean forward to make it easier for her and chuckle against her lips. “Have a good day at work, Y/N.”
“You too, Jae.”
And with that, she puts on her coat, grabs her bag and opens the front door. She lingers in the doorway, waving half-heartedly as a final word of goodbye.
I wave back, faking a smile to see her off without worry.
Being human again isn’t so bad.
However, the deadline is another story.
The shop is as tranquil as it is on any other day. The quietness of unread words hangs between the shelves, the only noise to disrupt the silence being the rustle of a page being turned. Seated by the window as per usual, listening to the hail in the dim light, I read the time away, but whereas it’s normally a form of amusement and pleasure, it now functions in part to forget this morning’s discovery.
I didn’t mean to pry, but I inspected Y/N’s bookshelves before I left her apartment. There was the usual assortment of classics, but also a lot of Asian fiction, a genre I haven’t delved into too much yet. So, of course with the intention of returning it, I took Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage by Haruki Murakami with me.
She must have read it recently because her fruity scent still lingers on the paper. The summer blend distracts me to the point that the movement of the hands of the clock pass unnoticed in the background.
Regardless of the appointed time, it’s half past two instead of two o’clock that Jinyoung comes in. In his one hand he holds a carrier with two paper cups, the sleeves on them decorated with the silhouette of a black wolf and the name of the café printed in vintage letters beneath the design, the letters spelling out Wolf’s. Judging by the scent, it’s tea the doctor has brought with him. Apple cinnamon for me, since that’s the only one I like, and rooibos for himself.
In his other hand, he holds his bag. One of the claps has either not been fastened before he left or came undone along the way. Whatever the reason, it’s clear he came here in a hurry.
“Sorry I’m late. Cillian and I had a lot more to discuss than we thought.” Jinyoung stumbles inside, puts the tea and his bag on the counter, and turns around to lock the door and flip the sign so we can talk in private.
A hint of leather mixed with coffee and wood is mixed in with his own.
Teeth gritted and jaw clenched, I make a mental note to myself to keep this scent away from Y/N. To keep this Cillian away from her.
“Jaebeom,” the other male sighs. His tone holds a silent warning of being close to breaking some kind of boundary.
“What?” The answer rolls off the tongue as a growl rather than an actual question. Not that it matters since he must have had a lot worse to endure from me. Besides, it’s not him I’m pissed at so he’s safe.
Although, the wild undertone in his already peculiar personal blend alludes to the opposite.
Has he always smelled like this or is this new? He is human, but then why does my instinct tell me to watch out for him, that there’s more than to him? Strange.
“He’s no competition. I think he might have imprinted with my colleague, although neither he nor she might be aware of it.” He rolls his eyes. “The gods know whether Gráinne will do anything with it. I wonder if... no, I don’t think either of them told her anything.”
A grim wistfulness stains his voice, which ignites a curiosity about his colleague’s circumstances. Notwithstanding, that story will have to wait until another day and his willingness to tell me.
Still, I quickly fish my phone out of my pocket, open the notes app, and jot down a short reminder to ask about it at a later date.
“Anyway,” Jinyoung steps away from the door, hands me the cup with apple cinnamon tea, and gestures at the worn couch by the window overlooking the west side of the neighbourhood, “we’re here to talk about you. About the picture you sent.”
We move away from the counter to the sofa. A burst of hail spatters against the glass as we sit down.
I’m glad to have something to hold to conceal the shivers running through my body at the image of the claw mark mixed with the memory of what Y/N told me she felt. Or, rather, thought she felt although I’m certain she actually did feel the first ripples of transformation.
For a moment, we sit in silence as I mentally prepare myself for the conversation. Nipping on the tea with my shoulders curled over my chest, I try to reconstruct last night as best I can.
As much as my memory lets me.
To break the... something. There’s an idiom, no, a phrase? A saying.
I don’t know.
To make it easier, likely noticing the struggle to say anything, Jinyoung speaks up. “There’s more than the photo. You’re leaving things out, things I need to know to help. What aren’t you telling me, Jaebeom?”
“Y/N-” I begin, my breath unsteady as I restart the sentence, “Y/N said she felt my skin move and if I try to remember last night, I can only recall fragments that give me a headache when I try to string them together. Which I can’t.”
He pales, frozen in place as the weird briny scent sours. “That shouldn’t-’’
“Shouldn’t happen,” I finish the remark.
A horrifying idea arises that sets the hairs on the back of my neck on end and has me nervously tapping my thumbs together as I try not to squeeze the cup in my paws. Nonetheless, voice a low woof bordering on a melancholic whine, I tell the doctor what’s on my mind. “I think the pills stopped working. Completely. I- I don’t think-’’
The world stops, shrinks, and strings my chest as tight as a string as I shrink within myself. Each thought evaporates as fast as the flashes in the wolf’s memory, incoherent if meant to be sensible at all.
The snow hasn’t even come.
I can’t leave her alone.
I don’t want to leave this life.
I don’t want to go just when being human again starts to get good.
I don’t want to be the old me again.
“I think so too,” Jinyoung agrees grimly. “If I increase the silver and nightshade or the doses it will kill you.”
He tilts his head to the side, eyes sharp with focus as he poses the question I’ve been wondering about myself. “Does she know what you are?”
I shake my head. I might be her weirdo wolf guy, but she’d never believe me if I told her what I really am. Besides, werewolves are the stuff of fiction these days.
We’re no longer seen as a real threat nor have the power and status we used to have in the days of yore. We are devoid of an identity acknowledged by humans.
But, if I don’t possess an identity, am I really here?
Or dead like the wolf inside?
Paradise is calling, the song of the forest playing like a red thread through my broken memory.
Beckoning me home.
The woods are calling.
And I must not go.
Jinyoung’s new question pulls me out of my reverie, just in time before the train of thought would crash and burn. “Are you going to tell her?”
“No.” I take a sip of the sweet tea, to have a second of bliss and enjoy a new human pleasure.
Another happiness I discovered a little too late.
“Will you at least tell her about your meds?” Even though she’s seen me take them, Y/N doesn’t know what they’re for. But, then again, did she look at the label?
Regardless of whether she did or not, she’s perhaps not truly ignorant to the reason I have to take them. After all, she thinks they combat my amnesia, which is partially true. It’s a half-truth.
But the real reason is a secret I intend to keep.
“No,” I repeat, determined in my answer regardless of the world spinning out of control. “I won’t tell her.”
“She deserves that much, doesn’t she? She’s your girlfriend, Jay.’’ Although his features have softened, the doctor’s voice rises to a fierce bark as he reinforces his point. ‘’Your mate.”
“I can’t tell her,’’ I retort, my bark closer to a growl than a civilized answer. Tears brim on the edge of my lashes, obscuring my vision in spite of my attempts to blink them away. The vision of Y/N by herself in the snow, on her knees in the middle of the orchard, blocks my throat and makes breathing harder than it already was.
The vision changes to the image of a spring day close to summer, warm enough for her to wear the dress with the lemons. She’s seated in the same position between the trees which are now white and pink with blossom. However, whereas her belly was flat before, it’s now swollen, pregnant with pups.
No, I have to stay here.
I have to survive the winter.
I have to be here if I ever change my mind and want to start a pack with her.
I must be here.
But the question is whether I actually can.
At this rate, I’m not sure.
I don’t know.
But I know enough to explain why I’m reluctant to tell my pretty lady anything. ‘’I can’t tell her, because the news will hurt her and I don’t want that. I don’t want to hurt her.”
Plus, what am I supposed to say? I’m a wolf that turned into a man and is slowly dying, going back to his old form in which it... he. Am human. In which he’ll be stuck until it- He! Am human! Until he dies?
“Y/N has to know about this, Jaebeom.’’ A hand on my shoulder makes me look up from the floor to the man next to me. ‘’How about I talk to her, tell her what you told me and discuss what our options are as well as a plan for the future?”
“You’re right.” I let out a mirthless griggle. “Fuck, I hate it when you are. But… But how will you… explain, uhm, explain… this- me! How will you explain me? What I am? For all she cares, werewolves are my- myth- fic-’’ I throw my head back, frustrated I can’t find the right word or properly speak.
Jinyoung gives me an encouraging squeeze, kindheartedly chuckling at my failure. “I know what you mean. Nobody comes into our world willingly or at least without a good reason. I think your... situation is enough of the latter for her to get involved too. She doesn’t have to join the branch, I’ll leave that up to her. But, if Y/N decides to believe me, or us for that matter, she’ll at least have a community to rely on when you, you know, you’re...”
“When I’m gone.’’ The hesitance to state the facts makes me grimace and my tone sharper than intended. ‘’We both know where this is heading so just say it.”
“Fine,’’ the doctor puts his hands up as if he’s at the risk of being shot ‘’when you’re gone.”
“What’ll happen to the shop?” I gesture around the paper paradise, changing the topic slightly. Books have been another treasure of humanity I will forever be grateful for, especially since I hopefully have created a legacy with them that’s worth keeping.
The doctor glances around, a somber expression on his face. “Either the university will keep it and maintain it as a potential workplace in the reintegration program or sell it off. I don’t know, real estate doesn’t fall within my jurisdiction.”
“Ah, I see.” I lower my head, gaze averted to the half-empty cup in my paws.
Funny how I once thought of making this a family business or to have at least my pup’s name on the spine of one of these books. If I ever had them, would they like to be a writer? Would Y/N tell them their absent father, I... I love... loved to read?
I force myself to forget the thought, swallow despite having a dry mouth, and shake my head. “Thank you. For wanting to tell her. She’ll come over tonight, so-’’
He holds up his hand to stop me. “I’ll text her so we can meet at a later date. She just returned from a business trip and had quite the evening with you. You two deserve a bit of rest.”
“But what if...”
It’s unlikely, but what if it happens again? What if I spin out of control tonight?
“Keep your temper in check and try to suppress your instinct,” Jinyoung answers matter-of-factly.
So, no sex.
Although the unspoken implication doesn’t come as a surprise, I can’t help but feel disappointed even though Y/N and I agreed on not doing it again so soon. Notwithstanding, it would be a lie to say I didn’t want to do it again this morning. But then there was the pool of blood and the amnesia that ruined our morning bliss.
All the same, flashes of what I do remember from last night replay in my mind.
They say once you’ve had a wolf, you never go back. Maybe because I won’t let you.
She looked beautiful, tears glistening in her eyes, equally as beautiful as her meek whimpers. She’s so small and fragile, easy to overpower.
“Your mind’s…. gutter again, isn’t it?” A groan sounds from somewhere on the side, distant like a faint echo
I was inside her.
In spite of the weird plastic, she felt nice.
I replay the image of her whimpering on the sheets as I looked down at her over and over. My hand on her cheek and Y/N keeping it in place. I should have used that second to dive down and worship her soft breasts more.
I could have bitten her there. Just a small bite on the side.
The snapping of a pair of fingers before my eyes interrupts the pleasant reverie. A bit offended, I snap around to growl at whoever took the pleasure of a cherished memory away.
Only to face Jinyoung, who sighs and looks down at the bulge in my pants before pursing his lips with an exasperated knowing expression as he looks up.
Scrambling to regain my composure and hardly remembering what he said, I answer as best I can. “No!”
“Then why are you drooling?”
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Iolokus, Chapter 5
i'm starting to understand that, as well as Mulder and Scully know each other, they have extremely skewed perceptions of each other when it comes to their POVs in this story. it's almost like Bad Blood. and i think that is why i've had some trouble digesting some of the characterization. not all of it, because some of it is still weird and left-fieldish, but a lot of it seems perfectly plausible based on these ill-informed assumptions they have about each other and themselves. and a lot of the off-base assumptions that these two have are filtered finely through their own flaws. Scully is a cold hard husk of a person right now, and so all the selfish actions Mulder indulges in are his being cold. these are two people who are both intimate and intense with each other, and also so hermetically sealed they can't possibly, fully know the other. and that, perhaps, is one of the more accurate character studies i've seen. ever.
more under the cut. spoilers and dark shit!
okay, so this whole opening scene between Marita and Scully is incredible and off-putting and not nearly as sexy as i thought it might have been. Scully reaches some revelations about Mulder that i think will be very important down the road, but this one of the ones i like most:
Marita was enthusiastic, but she didn't have the instinctive sense of what I liked. Not like Mulder. At first I thought that he was so good he could get a blow-up doll off, but then I realized that his British bitch wouldn't have let him go so easily were that the case. It's that I'm like the creatures he hunts. He needs them to justify his existence, and they need him to hunt them, to pay attention. He opens my head up and extracts what he needs to know, and then he leaves.
oh boy that is both hot as fuck and kind of... well, spooky. which is why it makes it so fucking good.
As I dabbed the beige goo on my cheek, I found that I was grinning like an ass at myself in the rearview mirror. I was covering up my mole the same way Scully did every morning. Did she really think that she could fool me? I've seen fingerprints that forensics people missed and she thought that I wouldn't notice that she had a mole on her upper lip. I loved that mole, loved the fact that she felt compelled to hide it and loved the fact that her makeup wore off in the night and I frequently met the mole first thing in the morning before she awakened.
exhibit A for the flawed perception argument: just before this, Scully observes, almost bitterly, that Mulder probably didn't know that she had mole on her upper lip. Scully thinks Mulder some oblivious asshole when it comes to her, because she thinks she's not really worth observing. and i just love that, as fucking painful as that is.
i'm not going to quote anything from the following scene because it is much too gruesome, but needless to say, i love Scully's cold, detached cataloging of the scene before she goes fucking apeshit and starts smashing things.
the rest of the chapter is thrilling, and, oddly, sexy. i think the authors get a kick out of of how hot Mulder and Scully can be when they're kicking ass. i see you, and i support you.
i do know that there is going to be a knock-out, drag-out fight of the century when they get out of this though and i'm not sure if i'm prepared (i'm not).
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I just miss you.
Im working on other Requests right now!! This turned out more subbier than I intended it to be but I hope you still like it!
here you go- @purplescissorsmuffinsports
Requested- Heyy can you write one with Harry being cuddly and sleepy and just wants you to hold him? That would be sooo cute🥺❤ Have a great day love😊
Summary- Harry misses Y/n
Y/n’s been at work for a while and I already miss her so much since she's been working a lot lately. I know she feels bad because I notice she stares at me when I sleep when she leaves to go to work in the morning.
She knows I miss her so much and I keep trying to get her to quit because I can take care of her.
Right now Im in our room waiting for her to come home watching reruns of friends. I’ve been deprived of kisses, cuddles, sex, overall just spending time time her and lately I've been feeling subby.
I finally hear her walk through the front door and I feel a spark in my chest
I hear her set her stuff down “bubba” she calls walking up the stairs, I lift my head up from my pillow when she walks through the bedroom door.
“hi” I say smiling
“hi” he says smiling and my little heart melts because he looks so out of it and adorable. He makes grabby hands at me and I walk to the edge of bed to where he is so I can fulfill his wishes.
I squat down, “hi my sweet boy how are you” kissing his cheek.
“Im fine, haven't really done anything today. Just miss you” he says pouting, looking at me.
I kiss his pouty lips over and over again until he's giggling “I'm sorry bub, I'm getting asked to do more hours” I say stroking his rosy cheek.
He starts pouting again and I see his big green eyes well with tiny tears.
“b-but you don't spend any time with me a-anymore and I m-miss you” he whimpers.
I climb on the bed and gather him in my arms while he lays his head on my boob, for some reason he always does that. “I'm sorry baby boy, how about I take a couple days off to spend time with you. How does that sound” I murmur in his curly hair, rubbing his back.
“I like the sound of that” he whispers turning his head to look into my eyes “we haven't even had any naughty time” he whines.
I smirk at him “I know your sleepy bub but I'll see if we can put that in the schedule for later, but only if you be a good boy” I say sternly rubbing his peachy little bum because he loves when I do that, he shyly nods and moans a little.
After while I start to see his eyes drifting.
I kiss his forehead while he snuggles into my neck.
“I love you so much, and I’m so sorry” I whisper
Make sure you share and reblog!!! You're welcome to recommend, but please don't act like you wrote it. Also make sure you leave a comment, you can find my Wattpad here.
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The new girl
[Casino AU : Marissa’s Story ]
Out of the frying pan into the fryer... On Stephen’s behalf Marissa gets transferred from Charlie’s basement to her new ‘home’ in the Casino.
Credits for our shared characters and setting go out to @whumping-newbie!
Content (warnings): Captivity, villain POV, lady whump, female whumpee, female whumper, kidnapping, forced stripping (non-sexual), dubcon kiss, nudity, scars, very vaguely referenced noncon, human trafficking // tell me if I should add something.
Fitzgerald's personal girl arrived early on a Sunday morning, the only time in her week Lydia considered sacred, for her weekly brunch video calls with her family. She wagered he knew it; that was exactly the sort of subtle power play he'd exert.
And he had won; she'd canceled brunch for "work reasons" and was now standing in the club's security office watching the video feed of Stephen's limousine driving into the reserved parking area many floors below. She was already on her third coffee, yet still had to suppress a yawn. On the black and white screen, the uniformed driver got off and circled the car to open the trunk.
"That fucking limo has tinted windows", she mumbled. "He still puts the girl in the trunk."
"Doesn't everyone?", the guard asked. "What do you care, anyway?"
"The new ones", she corrected. "This one is meant to be, I quote, 'very well trained' already. Shouldn't need to be put in place like this. Do I see it correctly, that Fitzgerald didn't even bother showing up himself?"
The driver downstairs helped a casino guard to recover a petite woman from the trunk, disoriented and unsteady on her feet, before he went back into the car and drove off.
Lydia bit back the insults on her tongue as she hit the speed dial button on her phone. Routed straight to mail box. Sleeping it off on this lovely Sunday morning.
The guard had just thrown the woman over his shoulder and vanished into the elevator. She didn't seem to be much of a fighter indeed.
"Is the room ready?", she asked the attendants waiting for instructions by the door.
"Of course, Madam", one of them was quick to say. Tim or something. "Good. Get the physician there as well. And I'll need another coffee."
With a sigh she grabbed her cane closer and went over, one of the attendants hurrying in front of her to open the doors. She enjoyed their subservience. What she didn't enjoy was Fitzgerald expecting subservience from *her*.
When she arrived, the woman was already there, seated on the bed. Her gaze was cast down, long dark brown curls falling over her face. She looked rather clean, but apart from that was a sorry sight. Her hair dull and messy, her skin under the too largr men's T-shirt pale and littered with bruises and aggressively red scars. It took a lot of imagination to spot the elegant businesswoman underneath, the lady that was shown on the pictures Stephen had sent her in advance.
"What are you waiting for, girl? Undress", Lydia commanded.
For a second, the woman lifted her gaze. Brown eyes met hers, red-rimmed, but at the same time utterly attentive. It held only a fraction of a second, so quick Lydia wondered if she had just imagined it, before the other woman rose to her feet and pulled the shirt over her head. The shorts slid down from her thin hips right after. She wasn't wearing anything underneath, just stood there, naked, waiting.
Lydia stepped in, let the tip of her cane wander over her stomach and chest, admiring the woman's calm acceptance. She tipped it at the red leather collar around her neck. Ugly bruises were showing beneath it.
"Off with that, too."
A tiny flinch, before her hands went up almost shakily. "He doesn't want me to -"
"If Mr Fitzgerald wants it back on, you'll put it back on, but right now, you listen to me first and foremost. And I say it goes off."
She bit her lip, but didn't speak, as her fingers slowly went to the back of her neck and fiddled with the buckle.
A delicate gasp of pain escaped her lips, as the collar opened and she took it off, letting it fall to the floor. The skin underneath was chafed and raw, angry welts around its edges.
Lydia pursed her lips. That would need treatment, as well as some of the wounds crossing her body. Whoever had hurt her - Stephen's mysterious *friend*, most likely - hadn't invested much in keeping her in shape. It was a wonder she could still stand.
"What's your name?" Lydia knew, of course. Still, she wanted to observe her reactions.
"Marissa." There it was again, that short, assessing gaze, that didn't seem to entirely match the image of the broken woman the rest of her presented. Intriguing indeed.
"Marissa." Lydia's cane went up to press the woman's chin up, before she could avert her gaze again. Marissa bit back a whine, probably caused by the strain on that bruised neck.
"I'm Madam Hutchinson. I run this place. I do not tolerate objections, neither to me nor to the clients."
"Clients?" Marissa asked slowly. "I thought I was to serve to Charles and Stephen."
Charles. The mystery friend. And Stephen, not Mr Fitzgerald, not Master, not any other odd term. Personal ties. Fitzgerald of course had failed to mention *that*. She didn't like the relationships between clients and workers to run that deep.
"This is a well managed, professional place. We accommodate you on Mr. Fitzgerald's behalf, but you will work for us as well. That means you'll serve anyone who pays us for it, and you'll do or let them do whatever they want."
An odd noise came from Marissa, and it took Lydia a moment to realize it was laughter. A hard, disbelieving chuckle, but a laugh nonetheless. "Of course", she said then. This time, she held Lydia's gaze. The cane itched in her hand, ready to discipline her for insubordination, but Marissa didn't say anything more.
Lydia cleared her throat, before she continued. "You will be prepared to do so by us, before you're made available to our paying clients."
"Trained?", Marissa asked.
"Learn how to seduce our clients. To please them, whatever their needs and demands."
A tiny smile danced around Marissa's mouth, oddly out of place, directing Lydia's glance to her lips. Something happened to her stance, maybe only a shift of weight, that let the room's lights perfectly illuminate her naked, bruised body. Gently, Marissa placed a hand on the cane, her movement soft and elegant. From behind her, Lydia heard the rustle of fabric indicating the guards drawing their batons, slowly, insecurely. A tiny lift of Lydia's hand made them step back.
She let Marissa guide the cane aside and watched her step in closer. Marissa's hand rose, slowly, tentatively, settling on Lydia's cheek, while her body nestled snugly against Lydia's.
Marissa looked up, and Lydia could read a challenge in her eyes, an invitation, and despair.
Carefully, Marissa pushed herself to her toes, and guided Lydia's face toward her. Her breath was warm on her skin, and Lydia could feel her own accelerated heartbeat, as she let Marissa pull her into a gentle kiss.
"Like that?", Marissa whispered against her lips.
Lydia swallowed and stepped back. Marissa didn't try to follow. She stayed stood in the middle of the room, naked and vulnerable, fully at Lydia's disposal, and yet she felt as if she had just been defeated.
"Clean her up", Lydia said. Her voice sounded rough to her own ears. "Get her a haircut and some medical attention. Also, she needs to gain some weight, asap. Apart from that, she's ready for the clients. We can introduce her tomorrow."
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Tomorrow Comes Soon Enough
Title: Tomorrow Comes Soon Enough
Card number: 022
Square filled: A2 Hot Tub Sex
Archive warnings: none
Major tags: Alternate Universe-No Powers, POV Steve Rogers, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Top Steve Rogers, Hot Tub Sex
Summary: Bucky Barnes needs a vacation, and Steve Rogers, his longtime boyfriend is determined to give it to him (in more ways than one). All Bucky requests is a private cabin with a massive bed, huge shower, and lots of sex. When the place they book comes with a hot tub, Steve decides they should put it to good use.
Steve and Bucky put the hot in hot tub.
Word count: 3750
Written for @stuckybingo2020
“I think I need a vacation.”
Steve looks up and smiles at his boyfriend who appears to be in the midst of some sort of mental crisis. Bucky’s known to histrionics, has been since they were kids together and he broke up a fight Steve started. The guy deserved it anyway, but that didn’t seem to make a difference to Bucky. He’d pulled Steve away from the older, much bigger kid by the scruff of his neck. Steve must have looked a sight, still swinging and beet red with anger, but Bucky held tight to him to keep him out of danger. When the other kid didn’t have enough sense not to make a crack about Steve’s size, Bucky had punched him in the nose and then walked Steve home to get his split lip attended to by Sarah Rogers. They’ve been inseparable since.
Best friends on the playground turned to joined at the hip during middle and high school. When they graduated, they got an apartment together and that proximity led to intimacy which then made way to a spontaneous kiss, sloppy hand jobs, blowjobs, and eventually a lot more. By the time they were twenty-one, they were madly in love.
Steve has absolutely no regrets. As far as he’s concerned, he’s always loved Bucky Barnes. The only things that have changed are their size and age. He’s no longer a scrawny little kid. He hit a growth spurt when he was eighteen. After that he packed on muscle, while Bucky’s sturdy frame grew lither with corded muscles under smooth skin. He also happens to be drop dead gorgeous in Steve’s humble opinion, and his opinion is the only one that matters as far as he’s concerned.
“I like the sound of that,” Steve answers, his voice low and soothing. Bucky’s had a hard week at work, and the last thing he needs is his partner belittling the stress he’s been under in his position.
Bucky’s surprise shouldn’t upset him, but Steve interprets that shock as a failure. He’d decided long ago to take care of Bucky as much and as often as Bucky has him, and now his man’s on the precipice of a breakdown that could have been easily avoided if Steve had just been paying a little bit better attention.
“Sit,” Steve orders with a pat on the cushion beside him. “I’m pulling up travel sites now. Let’s figure out what would be good.”
Grinning, Bucky bounds across the living room to plop down on the couch. Cuddling into Steve’s side, Bucky kisses him on the cheek and looks eagerly at the screen.
“Cabin in the mountains,” he declares as he ticks off requirements on his fingers. “Hot tub, massive bed, huge shower, no one else but us, lots of sex.”
Steve’s heart rate increases and his cheeks heat. The thought of Bucky naked and panting beneath him where there’s enough privacy for them to scream when they come—the way they always want to—makes him so flustered he isn’t sure how to function. Bucky finally takes the computer away from his fumbling fingers and reserves their lodging himself. Then he steers Steve into the bedroom and blows him. By the time they fall asleep, they both need a vacation to just recover from that.
Waiting another torturous three weeks for their getaway proves terrible, but the road trip to the cabin in the Berkshires ends up being amazing. The drive from Brooklyn to western Massachusetts allows for them to talk and reconnect without the distractions of everyday life at home, but it ends before either of them grow restless. Bucky steers their rental into the cabin’s driveway, and Steve jumps out to grab their bags and figure out the door code that grants them access to their place.
“Oh, it’s nice,” Bucky crows as he wanders the rooms. “The bed’s huge. Gas fireplace. Oh! Hot tub! Start a fire, Stevie, and then let’s get in the water.”
The setting sun lights up Bucky’s face as he smiles across the room, and Steve decides right then and there that Bucky deserves the dicking down of his life. Nothing relaxes the man he loves more than really good sex, and Steve is just the guy to provide that for him.
“Earth to Rogers,” Bucky teases with a snap of his fingers. Steve breaks from his reverie and winks. Moving to the fireplace, he flips the switch to turn on the flames and motions to his handiwork.
“Not much work to get the fire going, but I’m game for the jacuzzi. Just need to put on my trunks.”
Bucky tosses a flirtatious grin his way and drops his pants before shrugging off his leather jacket and deliberately unbuttoning his flannel shirt. When he’s sure he has Steve’s undivided attention, he tugs his gray t-shirt off and tosses it onto the bench at the foot of the bed. Steve’s head’s still spinning when Bucky bends over and digs in his suitcase.
Steve takes a moment to appreciate his boyfriend’s lanky form as he sheds his clothes. Bucky’s bare ass looks like a ripe peach, and Steve has to force his hands to his sides instead of walking over and grabbing hold of it. That lasts for about five seconds before he remembers they’re on vacation, and fuck that noise. He wants to grope his man.
“Hey,” he murmurs as he crosses the room and caresses Bucky’s left cheek. It fills his palm, and he squeezes gently as Bucky turns and wraps his arms around Steve’s neck.
“Hey, yourself,” Bucky smirks and leans forward to brush a gentle kiss against his lips. “I don’t know if you know this or not, but you’ve got your hand on my ass.”
“Oh, really? Is that so?”
“Yeah,” Bucky breathes. “It is.”
“Hmm. Let me see. I’m not sure I believe you. Need to gather evidence myself.”
Bucky laughs as Steve digs his fingers into muscled globes, but that amusement quickly turns heated. Steve tilts his head and chases Bucky’s lips. Gentle brushes deepen as their tongues tangle. Bucky whimpers as Steve licks into him, and Steve tugs his boyfriend against him so that their skin melds together.
“We’re totally having sex in the hot tub.”
Bucky bursts into laughter and nuzzles into Steve’s neck. “I expected nothing less. I couldn’t figure out why you thought we needed trunks in the first place.”
“Just giving the impression of propriety.”
“Fuck propriety, and fuck me. Your moves always impress me.”
Steve chuckles. Bucky’s always been good with language and twisting phrases to mean something other than what they were intended. It’s how Bucky’s helped Steve escape from a number of situations where he managed to find himself during his formative years, back when he’d been a scrawny bawl of righteous anger with a death wish. Older and stronger, Bucky protected him from his own mouth. Now, Steve repays him with it often—mostly in sloppy blowjobs that make Bucky’s eyes roll back in his head.
“God, I love you.”
“I love you, too, Stevie,” Bucky breathes. “Thanks for insisting on the vacation. I really needed some time away.”
“I really need to get laid,” Steve insists. “Like, right now.”
“You have a one track mind.”
“I have a stiffy and a hot boyfriend.”
Bucky rolls his eyes. Grabbing a couple of towels off a chair, he heads for the deck where the hot tub bubbles in anticipation. Steve admires the view for a few seconds before shaking himself and chasing after that firm ass. Bucky swings a long, lean leg over the edge of the jacuzzi, and Steve licks his lips at the promise of his boyfriend slick and wet in the warm water. He hesitates for a half second before dropping his pants and climbing in alongside Bucky.
“It’s hot,” Steve groans as he sinks beneath the surface up to his shoulders.
Bucky chuckles and twists his hair into a messy bun on top of his head. “It’s supposed to be hot, dumbass.”
“Speaking of asses…”
Steve slides toward Bucky and pulls him into his lap. He grunts as his cock slips into the cleft in Bucky’s behind and reclaims Bucky’s mouth with his. They make out for a long time with wet kisses and ragged breathing. Curls of steam rise from the surface, and the humidity leaves a layer of beaded moisture on Bucky’s dark waves and eyelashes.
“I love you,” Steve mumbles before licking into Bucky’s mouth and eliciting a deep moan. “Need you, baby.”
Bucky moves to straddle Steve and sucks up and down the column of his neck. He whispers dirty little promises that make Steve shiver despite the heat.
“Gotta open me up,” Bucky slurs, his voice thick with desire. “Want you so much.”
“Yeah. I want you, too, baby.”
Bucky glides in his lap, and Steve thinks he might die. Bucky’s cheeks press against his balls, and their erections rub together as they harden rapidly. His eyes droop at the sensation of Bucky’s soft skin caressing him. It takes every speck of his effort not to manhandle Bucky into position and rail him from behind.
“Or we could just do this,” Bucky groans when Steve’s hand closes over both of them. “Christ, Steve. This is so good.”
Steve shifts his hand to grasp them more firmly. He’s so hard it almost hurts, and the feel of Bucky’s cock, thick and turgid against his, elicits a moan so deep it shudders out from the depth of his gut.
“I’m gonna fuck you so hard later, but right now…”
Steve trails into silence. He can’t get another word out without blowing his load. That’s the end goal, but he wants it to last at least a little longer. Bucky deserves better than a quickie hand job. His boyfriend rocks into in his lap, fucking into Steve’s fist and begging for a release that’s just out of reach. The eager anguish on Bucky’s face notches up Steve’s libido even more. He’s the one who can make Bucky happy, and that thrill of power works its way through his system as his hand trails down Bucky’s spine in search of puckered flesh that will make his boyfriend howl.
“Tell me how much you like it, Buck. Let me hear you.”
Bucky’s head falls back, his long, graceful neck exposed to Steve’s lips. Dark hair waves around his face where it’s fallen from the tie, and his expressive blue eyes flutter closed in ecstasy. His red lips stand out from his face in a lax, supple slash from which muted calls for release fall.
“Stevie,” he breathes. “Stevie, need you inside me. Wanna sit on your cock. Give it to me.”
The sounds Bucky makes as Steve works him open burn into Steve’s memory. Not that he ever plans for them to be apart more than a few hours at a time, but Steve knows he can draw on this memory for hours of spank bank material if needed. Bucky mewls and slurs and pleads for relief, but Steve does everything he knows how to do to prolong the pleasure. A boneless, sleepy, sated Bucky Barnes is the most precious one, and Steve needs that for him tonight more than anything.
“I love the feel of you against me, sweetheart. Love the way your dick rubs against mine. Hard and thick and weeping for me. How you’re so tight around me and hot and wet and desperate to be filled. You’re so sweet to me.”
Bucky howls at the praise. His hips jerk in imperceptible little jerks as Steve’s finger breaches him. Steve can tell he’s torn between thrusting forward into the grip of Steve’s fist and back against the pressure filling him. Bucky blinks open his eyes, and the surrender Steve sees there makes him want to weep. Bucky, this precious man, offers his body as a gift, and Steve intends to honor that vulnerability.
“Do you need to come, honey?”
When Bucky nods in weak agreement, Steve chuckles and brushes kisses along Bucky’s jawline.
“I want that for you, too, but I also want you to come on my cock. What do you think of that?”
Bucky’s so far gone already that it takes a full thirty seconds before his eyes focus. “Please. Want it so bad.”
Steve pushes against the wall of the hot tub so only his legs are submerged. He perches on the side of the jacuzzi and whispers in Bucky’s ear, “Go ahead, baby, but I’m still gonna make you come with my dick in your ass.”
Bucky sighs and sinks deeper onto Steve’s fingers. As Steve jerks them both, Bucky tenses and releases a whined growl that rips from him. Milky fluid spurts from his tip and stripes Steve’s chest. Steve continues to pump, coaxing every last droplet from Bucky’s willing body.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Give it to me. Coat me with it. I want you all over me.”
“Fuck!” Bucky swears through gritted teeth. “Fuck, Steve! Get in me. Please, baby! Please, please, please…”
Bucky’s frantic plea to be filled tears at his heartstrings. It’s too much to resist when his boyfriend asks with such deep desperation. In a flurry, he flips Bucky and presses his soiled chest to Bucky’s muscled back. He spreads Bucky’s legs and positions himself behind that tight ass he’s been lusting after since they arrived.
“You ready, baby?” Steve teases. “You want this hard cock inside you?”
“Give it to me,” Bucky begs and nods frantically. “Fill me up, Stevie.”
He should have thought to put lube by the hot tub, but thinking went out the window when he saw his boyfriend naked. He’s always terrified of hurting Bucky, but they’re both too worked up to delay their coupling to go riffle through a suitcase to look for slick. Instead, Steve strokes himself a few times with Bucky’s come and lines himself up to Bucky’s opening. He nudges against the furled flesh and shoves forward until Bucky howls his name.
“Fuck, yes,” Steve moans as he pushes into the tight passage, hollowed out grunts that bubble over as Bucky grips him and pulls him in. “Buck. Christ!”
“Stevie, Stevie, Steve, yeah.” Bucky chants into the darkness. The stars shimmer overhead, and a light breeze caresses their heated skin. Bucky’s braced over the side of the hot tub with Steve draped over him, only submerged in water up to his knees. The rest of him is bare and slick and trembling. Steve’s about to snap, but he has to make sure Bucky’s with him.
“I’m gonna rail you, sweetheart. You ready for me?”
His lips are pressed against the shell of Bucky’s ear, which is the only reason he can hear the shuddered sob of surrender that rolls through his boyfriend’s body. He has to move, and the second he does, Bucky screams at the sensation. He tenses, but Bucky’s shoving back against him and pleading for Steve to go harder and deeper.
His control breaks. Water sloshes as Steve pounds into Bucky. Bucky’s right foot slips, and Steve grabs it and bends it forward. The new angle opens Bucky up so that Steve’s completely enveloped, gripped by clenching muscles and a burning desire to empty himself into the man he loves. They haven’t done doggy style in a while and never in a bubbling pool of water. It’s hot and humid and sticky and uncomfortable, but the view Steve has of Bucky’s broad shoulders and lax mouth is better than anything else he’s ever seen.
“So fucking sexy. I love you, baby,” Steve grunts and tugs Bucky’s head back by his hair. Bucky moans as his neck stretches tight, and Steve fumbles for Bucky’s swinging cock. He’s just starting to harden again after emptying himself onto Steve’s chest. He grunts loudly when Steve palms him again.
The slap of wet skin is intoxicating. The feel of his balls smacking against Bucky’s ass and his cock in Steve’s hand is everything Steve’s ever wanted. He loves this man. He loves him so much that the ring sitting in his suitcase needs to make an appearance soon. He can’t leave this cabin and return to the city without making sure Bucky agrees to be his husband.
“Steve…” Bucky hisses a stream of curses as his body tenses. He’s close again already. Steve knows the signs, and it’s the sexiest goddamn thing in the world to know that he’s driven Bucky to the pinnacle again so quickly.
Steve thrusts hard enough to lift Bucky off his left foot, and that triggers it. Bucky swells in his hand and comes with a moan on his lips. Steve ruts into him two more times and lets go, pumping Bucky full and emptying himself. The stretch and slide of their bodies smarts in such an exquisite way that Steve’s not sure he’s going to survive this. It’s too good. Together, they’re the most amazing thing in the world.
It takes a while before Steve’s head clears. Bucky’s whimpering as his hole flutters around Steve’s softening cock. He’s oversensitive, and Steve has to resist the urge to toy with him some more. Steve’s been able to force multiple orgasms from the man beneath him before, but he doesn’t want to push him beyond what’s reasonable. Bucky’s such a generous lover that he sometimes gives in when he should say no.
“Sweetheart,” he murmurs against the damp hair that sticks to Bucky’s neck. “Okay?”
He answers in a choked, hoarse voice that makes Steve want to bite every inch of exposed skin. “Gotta pull off the side. No! Stay inside me, baby.”
Steve tries, but he doesn’t have the wherewithal to keep his head on straight. Instead, he rises on shaky legs and lifts Bucky to cradle him to his chest. Somehow, they’ve managed to keep their release out of the water, but that won’t continue if they don’t get out of the hot tub immediately.
When Steve lays him down on the bed, he allows his eyes to flit lower and almost collapses at the sight of fluid leaking out of Bucky’s loose hole. He’s on him in seconds, stretched out on his stomach and licking at the feast between Bucky’s legs. There’s something about the taste of himself mixed with the flavor of Bucky’s flushed, salty skin that turns him on more than anything else in the world. It’s the best of both of them together, connected so intimately that he can’t tell where one of them ends and the other begins.
Bucky twists and moans, but Steve won’t relent. He wraps his arms tightly around Bucky’s thighs and stretches them wide. Bucky wails and bucks against his mouth, yanking Steve’s hair in sharp tugs that cause painful ripples to rush through his body. The taste, touch, and smell are almost too much for him. It’s fucking erotic, absolutely sinful, to have all this at his mercy.
“Steve! Please. I can’t. I can’t again,” he whines, and Steve chuckles.
Bucky’s always been a terrible liar. Steve knows Bucky can, has, and will again. Steve’s an expert at driving Bucky Barnes over the edge. He’s done it countless times, and he’s drawn multiple orgasms from his partner more than a few times. Bucky never thinks he’s got any more in him, but Steve’s seen that tell-tale flutter and clear fluid dribbling from Bucky’s tip enough times to know that he doesn’t need to stop.
Instead, Steve licks at the mess he’s deposited inside his boyfriend and laves at him with the flat of his tongue. He grunts at the flavor. Knowing that he’s driven the man below him this far to the edge makes him as happy as he’s ever been.
Bucky’s breathing is ragged, and his wrecked scream echoes on the walls. His head thrashes back and forth, but his hands lose their grip and fall limply at his sides. He’s too far gone to do anything other than ride the waves of endorphins Steve knows he’s helped create. There’s nothing better than a sex-drunk Bucky who’s too far gone to even express how high he feels.
Steve’s face is filthy, but he doesn’t bother to stop long enough to wipe away the fluid smeared on his cheeks and chin. Bucky’s almost there, and there’s no one else who can give him the final push the way Steve can. When Bucky chokes on a cry, Steve grazes puffy skin with his teeth and smiles smugly when Bucky twists under him so hard, he’s thrown to the side. He doesn’t waste any time tugging his boyfriend to him and stroking the sweaty hair from his slack face.
“That’s right, sweetheart. Just ride the wave. I’ve got you. I’m here.”
Bucky’s crying, tears streaming down his cheeks as his body shudders and quivers. His eyes roll in the sockets, and he tucks his face into the warm hollow of Steve’s neck. Steve doesn’t let go. He wouldn’t, even if he wanted to. He loves how much Bucky trusts him to hold him tight when he’s so turned on he can’t even remember his own name.
He’s going to marry this man. He’s going to ask him tomorrow at breakfast when he’s sleep rumpled and warm and rested and sated from tonight’s mind-blowing sex. He’s going to get down on one knee and declare his love and ask Bucky to wear his ring and take his name (or keep his if it makes him happier) and live with him for the rest of their lives. He’s going to be a husband, and his husband is going to be his as much as one human being can ever belong with another.
“I love you, Buck,” he breathes against the flushed skin of Bucky’s cheek. “I love you so much.”
The slurred response is incoherent enough that Steve knows Bucky’s still flying. That doesn’t bother him, though. He can do this all day. As long as Bucky’s happy, there’s nothing else that matters. He wraps his arms tighter around Bucky’s torso and tangles their legs together. Soon, Bucky’s breathing evens into a slow, steady pace. With one last kiss, he lays his head on the pillow beside Bucky’s and drifts into sleep. There’ll be time for everything else tomorrow. Until then, he has the love of his life in arms and an engagement ring in his suitcase. Things can’t be any better. The morning will be soon enough.
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Based on this request from @nkjktk WOW I LITERALLY OPENED TUMBLR AND GOT THE NOTIFICATION THAT REQUESTS ARE OPEN! So may I ask for a Sandor x f!reader (who is the sweet and bubbly kind, but not a fighter) in an established relationship were the reader gets kidnapped by some old enemy of Sandor to idk get information? And then a very angry Sandor goes obliviously to the rescue and there is a bit of angst and ya know- deaths (cuz the kidnappers injured the reader somehow), but in the end everything is fluffy and comforting and loving? Thank you so much I hope it's fine!!💞 totally fine if u don't feel like writing this tho!!💞
Here you are! *Familiar Characters are NEVER mine!
Warnings: Angst, kidnapping, violence, blood, injury. Fluff
Pairings/Characters: Sandor Clegane x fem!reader
When Sandor returned home that evening and you weren't there, he was absolutely confused. When he walked further into your home and realized that something wasn't right, he was upset. When he saw the mess around your little cottage he was furious. There were obvious signs of a struggle, including a bit of blood. Whatever had happened, you had clearly put up one hell of a fight. You weren't there, so clearly this was a kidnapping. That was a mistake on the assailants' part. Sandor grabbed his battle-worn armor and his weapons before leaving again, following the trail of clues left for him, undoubtedly by you.
You struggled against your bonds, glaring at the idiot who'd had the nerve to abduct you from your home. "You will tell me what I want to know," this person you'd never seen before threatened. You scoffed. "I don't know anything you want to know. But I will tell you one thing. You have made the biggest mistake of your life. Sandor is going to come for me."
"You think the Hound loves you? You really think he'll come for you? He isn't capable of love." You narrowed your eyes even more before spitting at them. Typically you were a very sweet and kind person and you definitely weren't much of a fighter, but you weren't about to let this person insult the man you had been in love with for years. You just needed to bide your time until Sandor got there. When you felt your head snap to the side, you knew your kidnapper had smacked you. Suddenly it seemed that biding your time was going to be a lot harder than you thought. "Please, Sandor. Please hurry."
The longer it took Sandor to find you, the angrier he became. The rage built up until he was nearly seething. He followed your clues as far as he could until he came upon what looked like an old, abandoned farm. There were people standing guard outside. Sandor wasn't a small man by any means. There would be absolutely no sneaking in. Even if he tried, it might be too late for you. So, Sandor did what he did best. Ran into danger head on.
Sandor didn't care about the noise he made. He needed you and the people who took you to know that he was coming for you. Using all the skills he had, Sandor took out every guard outside. Then, Sandor stopped. And he listened. He waited until a scream ripped through the air. Your scream.
Sandor burst through the door, coming face to face with the person who kidnapped you. He let his eyes flicker to you and instantly, his blood is boiling again. There was a bruise forming on your cheek and your lip was bleeding. Sandor picked up his blade, pointing it at you as his gaze went back to the person in front of him. "You do that to her?" They arched a brow, but you could see them quaking in fear. "I-If she had given me what I wanted, I wouldn't have had to hit her." Sandor hummed then looked at you again. The sight of the blood and bruise on your face made him mad. But it was the tears on your cheeks that had him pinning your attacker to the floor with his blade through their chest.
Sandor was at your side to free you a second later. He undid the ropes tying you to the post. His large hands came up to cup your cheeks. "You alright?" You gave a little sniffle as you looked up at him and nodded. "Yes. I-I'm alright. Are you?" Sandor scoffed. "You were the one tied up and you're askin' me if I'm alright?" You rolled your eyes.
"You've got blood on your face and hands. I can't help but worry. I know you're a strong warrior, Sandor, but you are not invincible." Sandor let a chuckle escape passed his lips. "Not my blood, little dove. Let's go home." You smiled at him. He dropped a quick kiss to your forehead before leading you from the farmhouse to where he'd left his horse.
You rode in front of Sandor with his arms wrapped around you. Even though you weren't severely hurt, Sandor wasn't going to let you out of his sight until you were safely home again. Especially since it was his fault you were taken in the first place. "Stop that," you chided gently as if you could read his mind, "You don't make choices for others, Sandor. This was their doing, not yours." Sandor grunted softly, prompting you to sigh and quiet down again.
When you came upon a river, you asked Sandor to stop. "We need to get you cleaned up. We aren't far from home. We'll be perfectly safe," you said when Sandor tried to protest. Still, you looked up at him with those (e/c) eyes of yours and he couldn't resist. You both dismounted the horse and Sandor followed you over to the water.
You made him sit down near the bank of the river while you ripped a piece of your dress. Sandor removed his some pieces of his armor while you did whatever it was you were going to do. You soaked the fabric in the water before turning back to your lover. With all the gentleness of a summer breeze, you picked up one of Sandor's hands and began cleaning any blood you could see.
For a few moments, neither of you spoke. Sandor just let you do what you wanted. When you moved the cool, wet fabric to his face, he stiffened briefly but soon relaxed under your touch. He closed his eyes and let you work in silence. He'd never say it out loud, but he enjoyed every single touch you bestowed on him. "Thank you, Sandor. For coming after me," you whispered. Sandor opened his eyes and met your gaze again.
"You don't have to thank me. I wasn't gonna let them take you without payin' for it. You mean too much to me." Sandor felt himself blushing at his own confession, which you told him not to be embarrassed about. You laughed softly and finished your task.
Then, you quickly kissed Sandor on the lips and pulled back, resting your forehead against his now clean one. "I love you, Sandor." Sandor hummed and murmured that he loved you too. "Let's go home, okay?" Sandor nodded, stood, and walked back to his horse. Now that everything was done, exhaustion was creeping in and there was nothing more that Sandor wanted to do than get home and curl up in bed with you in his arms.
(a/n: I hope this is what you were looking for!)
Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @brewsthespirit-blog @etherealpotter @line-viper @frozenhuntress67 @cd1242 @gruffle1 @smalltownbigheart @igotmadskills
Sandor Clegane Tags: @songoficecreamandfireworks @silversprings98
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Run Away With Me?
I decided to contribute to the lack of jason grace x reader fics. Daughter of Poseidon!fem!reader (this was meant to be for myself, but decided to post it here anyway). Former leo x reader relationship. Sorry to all the Jiper/Jasper shippers but they're canonically broken up anyway :'( and unpopular opinion, but piper x leo just makes a lot more sense tbh?
Warnings: light lime, but doesn't progress into anything deeper/too graphic
Tell me if I should do a part 2!!! (I mean, I still will but idk if y'all want me to post it or I should just keep it to myself as I intended)
Tonight was the Camp Half-blood "Prom Night" that the Aphrodite and Dionysus cabins organized. I stood at the side as I watched my ex-girlfriend dance with my ex-best friend who is now her boyfriend.
Whatever feelings I had left for her were dying down, but I still couldn't believe how it all happened. I was so drowned in my thoughts as I scanned the crowd of happy couples that I didn't notice that a certain daughter of Poseidon had walked up to me.
"Someone's lonely tonight," she said, causing me to jump. My reaction made her giggle as she got herself a drink.
A smile formed at my face. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in Manhattan?"
She just shrugged and moved toward me to watch the crowd. "Had a half day today and I got off work for this weekend, so I decided to drop by."
"You just decided to drop by looking drop-dead gorgeous?" I remarked her delicately curled hair that flowed down her shoulders and the light makeup she had on that accentuated her features. She wore a simple satin navy blue dress with a flowy skirt up to her knees, perfect for dancing. If I hadn't known better, I'd say she matched my navy blue tux on purpose.
"Careful, Grace," she said as she sipped her punch. "People might hear you."
Will suddenly made a beeline for us, followed by Nico. "Someone's matchy-matchy tonight," Will said.
A ghost of a smile graced Nico's lips. "Nice to see you, y/n."
"Nice to see you, too, Neeks."
Besides them, the only other people who knew that y/n and I were secretly dating are Percy and Annabeth. Piper walked up to us to get a snack, followed by Leo.
She was laughing at something Leo said. She stopped in her tracks when she saw y/n.
"Y/n, hi," she said. "Didn't know you were coming."
"Hi, Piper," y/n said with a small smile.
Leo then caught up to Piper. His smirk disappeared and his eyes widened at the sight of his ex-girlfriend (who was looking breathtakingly stunning, might I add). "Y/n," he said nervously, "hi."
"Leo," y/n nodded.
"So, uh..." Leo started, "how long have you been standing here?"
"I'm just dropping by," she said. "Don't worry, I'm not staying."
"You dressed up and you're not even staying," Will joked.
Y/n just said confidently, "I can dress up if I want to, William."
"Yes, queen," Will replied. Leo excused himself and went to talk to some of his siblings.
"Couldn't you dance for just one song?" Piper asked her. I could see y/n's eyes flicker with sadness.
She shook her head. "I have somewhere to be. Plus everyone else has a date to dance with, so..."
"Jason doesn't have a date," Piper interjected, which both annoyed and flustered me. "But no pressure. I just hope you still enjoy yourself while you're here."
"Thanks, Piper," y/n smiled genuinely at her. Piper waved goodbye and headed back to her friends. Will whisked Nico away somewhere.
I turned to y/n. "Can you really not stay a little longer? I know you're not a terrible dancer, my love."
She playfully glared at me for the nickname. "I guess..."
She inhaled. "I don't know if I'm ready for everyone else to see us."
I nodded in understanding. We watched everyone in silence for a few moments before she spoke up again.
"I really have to get going," she said. "I rarely have a free day anymore, let alone a free weekend."
"Where are you going?" I asked.
Her expression changed with a gleam in her eyes. "No idea. But I have a few destinations in mind."
"And you can't stay at camp this summer?"
She shrugged. "I can probably stay for a few weeks, including your birthday. I'm not missing that, of course. But most of the summer, we'll be doing senior year stuff. You know, all the ones I told you about."
"I'm gonna miss you," I said. "Heck, I already miss you."
She looked at me sadly. "I miss you, too."
She looked around and when no one was watching, she gave me a quick peck on the cheek, which caught me by surprise. I felt myself blush for the second time that night.
"See ya, Jase." She turned and walked out, her skirt swishing along. Her hair bounced lightly with every step she took. I found myself staring at her as my hand ghosted the spot where she kissed me.
"Hey, Jason!" Leo called as he approached the snack table. He took a few small sandwiches. "Dude, you're missing the party! You bought a tux and everything just to stand there?"
"Are you really not going to at least enjoy your first prom ever?" Piper said as she walked up to me. "Or is this because you don't have a date?"
I heard my phone chime with a notification. I looked at the screen and I smiled.
From: my love 💜👑
Meet me at your cabin, I wanna talk to you 💕
I hadn't realized that I've been smiling for some time when Leo tried to look over my shoulder.
"Ohh," he gushed, still not getting the hint that I was mad at what he did before. "Pipes, looks like Jason here does have a date!"
I quickly put my phone away before he could read the entire thing. "Stop it," I chided.
Leo frowned, but straightened up anyway. "Jeez, Jason, lighten up."
I rolled my eyes at him. "I have to go."
"Wait!" Piper called with a smirk. "Tell us about this girl/guy first. When? Where? Who? How?"
"Is it someone we know?" Leo added.
I sighed. "I'm not telling you who she is—"
"Ohh, he does have a girl," Leo interrupted as he wiggled his eyebrows at me. I shot him a glare.
"She doesn't want others to know yet," I continued.
"Oh, come on!" Leo pushed. "Is it at least someone we know?"
I thought for a moment before replying, "I really don't think you do."
It wasn't a lie. Sure, they knew y/n. Sure, Leo and y/n were a thing back then. Sure, y/n was one of the demigods of the prophecy. But I was certain they didn't know her the way I did. They didn't know how much she's been and going through. And Leo definitely didn't know how much pain he'd caused her.
Leo backed away slightly disappointed. Piper put a hand on his shoulder. It was silent for a while before she spoke up again.
"Well, we're just glad you're happy. And you better get going, you don't want to keep your girl waiting."
I managed to smile at them genuinely. "Thanks," I said before racing off to the cabins.
I saw y/n exit Cabin 3 still wearing her dress, but with a backpack over her shoulder this time. She also had a dagger strapped to her waist. I sprinted over to her and took her bag.
"I am very capable of carrying that, you know," she said.
I wrapped an arm around her and kissed her forehead. "And I'm very capable of being the best boyfriend I could ever be for such an amazing girl."
She giggled and leaned in for a quick kiss. I opened the door to my cabin and let her in.
"So what did yo—mphm..." I was interrupted suddenly when she grabbed the lapels of my jacket and pressed her lips against mine just as I closed the door. I almost dropped her bag when she took me by surprise. Yes, I've kissed her many times. But she rarely kissed me with such passion as she did now.
When I processed what was happening, I closed my eyes and kissed back. My hands ran from her back up to her hair. I shivered when I felt her tongue graze the scar on my lip. I moaned, granting her entrance. Her tongue lightly massaged mine for a while before we pulled away for air.
We were panting from the heated make out session. I gripped her arms as I leaned my forehead on hers, both our eyes closed. It was such a blissful moment, holding the girl I loved tightly in my arms. The world could just melt away and I couldn't care any less. What mattered was that she was here right now, in my favorite place where I wanted her to be: at my side.
I was about to lean in for another kiss when I heard her giggle. I opened my eyes and looked at her. Her eyes crinkled slightly at the corners. Now that I had a good look at her, I can see that she's removed her makeup.
I smiled at her, my forehead still on hers. "What's so funny?"
She took a breath and looked back at the statue of hippie Zeus. A shiver ran down my spine at the thought of my father watching us make out.
She looked back at me playfully. "Just the thought of your dad knowing that Poseidon's daughter is topping his son."
I, too, softly laughed at the idea. But who can blame me? She was stunning! After years of being the leader, it felt nice to not be the one to be in charge for once.
I pulled her back in for another kiss. It was gentle this time, but with just as much passion to let her know how I feel for her. My thumb caressed her cheek as her arms found their way around my neck.
When we pulled away, I looked into her eyes and pushed a few strands of her hair back. "I missed this, I missed you," I said.
Her arms dropped down to circle my waist as she leaned into my chest. My heart fluttered at her softness as she spoke, "I missed you, too, Jason Grace."
I leaned my head on hers as I softly swayed. The music from the pavilion played faintly in the background. I suddenly had an idea.
"Dance with me?" I asked.
"You wanna go back out there with Leo and Piper and everyone else?"
I shook my head. "No, just here. You in my arms and no one else. Like the universe melted away and all we have now is each other."
"Looks like Apollo blessed someone today," she teased. Even I was surprised by the words that came out of my mouth. I don't know if some god blessed me, or the praetor in me was kicking in, but I felt a surge of confidence and flew her to the opening that lead to the roof.
"Out here?" She asked.
"No one's gonna see us, don't worry," I said. "Plus, I'd rather dance with you under the stars than under the gaze of my father's statue."
She giggled and leaned in closer to me. Her arms wrapped around my shoulders while mine wrapped around her waist. Our foreheads touched each other as we swayed with the faint music. I closed my eyes so all I could focus on was her—her heartbeat, her closeness, her touch.
After a few peaceful minutes, she spoke up in a soft voice. "Jase?"
"Hmm?" I opened my eyes to meet her e/c ones.
"I'm scared," she said.
"Of what, my love?"
"All of this," she replied. "What if it's like Piper in Wilderness School when she found out that night you danced in the stars was fake? I mean, is any of this really real? Or worse, what if I wake up tomorrow and you're gone, memories stolen again? What if you forget me and you wake up on a bus with a girl and when you come back you'll forget all about me and—oh my gods, now I know how Reyna felt."
I chuckled at her antics, which earned me a glare.
"My insanity amuses you?"
"No, it's not that," I defended. "One, Reyna and I were never really a couple."
"But you had feelings for her?"
I thought about it for a moment. "Possibly? I'm not entirely sure how I even felt back then. Being raised by wolves didn't exactly prepare me for romance. But your brother never forgot Annabeth, did he? That's because Hera wiped his mind clean, but Annabeth was in his heart."
I looked her directly in the eyes as my hand cupped her cheek. I felt her shiver beneath my touch. "Not saying that it would happen again, but if I do wake up again in a bus with strange kids, I'll remember your name. And I'll know that even though I have no clue who I am, I'll have to find you. I've never felt this much for anyone before, not even Piper. You... How do the mortals say it? You live in my heart, rent-free."
This earned a laugh from her. Oh, how I loved hearing her laugh. How I loved seeing her smile. How I loved holding her. How I loved her...
Oh gods. I love her.
When her laughter died down, I brought both my hands to cup her cheeks. I looked into her eyes, the smile disappearing from my lips. I had a solemn expression, which seemed to worry her. But her nervousness started to melt away when I spoke up.
"I love you," I told her for the first time.
I don't know how long we've been standing there, but the seconds went by agonizingly slow. The world stilled around us. Time only moved again when she leaned forward and pressed her lips on mine. I kissed back with as much passion as earlier.
We were both panting when we pulled away. I looked into her eyes desperately, brows furrowed. I held on to her for dear life.
"I love you, too, Jason Grace," she finally whispered. The way she said it with my full name sent a shock of electricity down my spine. The wind picked up, and lightning flashed in the distance.
She giggled at my reaction. "I didn't know I had that sort of effect on you," she said.
What happened after that was a blur, but the last thing I remember was me pinning her down against the domed roof of my cabin. I remember her undoing my bow tie and unbuttoning the top buttons of my dress shirt. I remember her head leaning on my hand as I kissed down her jaw, to her neck, and—
"Wait," she said, pushing me away slightly. I suddenly processed what we were doing and embarrassment started to wash over me. How could I, former praetor of the Twelfth Legion, do such a rash and indecent thing to a girl like her?
"No," she interjected. "Don't get me wrong, I loved it. I love you. And I do want this, but is the roof of your cabin the place to do it, knowing full well that the Stolls own a pair of binoculars?"
I chuckled in relief as I held her close. "Your cabin then? I doubt the statue of my father would be pleased with me."
"Run away with me," she said.
I blinked. "What?"
"It's just for the weekend," she clarified. "I know somewhere we can go. And I want you to come with me. I mean, if you want to. You don't have to, it's just an offer but I thought you might want to because we really missed each other and I rarely get to spend time with you. And when I do some other people are usually there. And I thought you mi—mphm."
Now it was my turn to cut her off with a kiss. "Let me pack my stuff," I told her.
She smiled and gave me another quick kiss before we went back down to my dark cabin.
Oh boy, this was going to be a hell of a weekend.
36 notes · View notes
banana split, 02
pairing: na jaemin x cheerleader!reader
word count: 17.0k (17,079)
genre: fluff, rivals to lovers, high school au, fake dating
warnings: ah the part in the relationship where the enemies slowly start to realize that the other isn’t so bad... (aka reader and jaemin bond?), idiots to lovers
★ summary: acting is in jaemin’s blood. he knows how to read lines off a script, what facial expressions fit best, and where to stand onstage so the light doesn’t blind his eyes. acting is in jaemin’s blood, but lying with you about the arrangement proves to be a whole different challenge, and he hates to admit that he might be the one to blow this all up before you do.
★ note: parts named after ice cream flavours: jaemin’s pov. parts named after cheer stunts: reader’s pov
PART 01 | 02 | 03
“So, I’ve been thinking…” Jaemin begins, flipping through a bright pink notebook while you stand in front of him, on the brink of annoyance. “Our deal wasn’t exactly fair. You benefit more from this than I do, so I was brainstorming last night on things you could do for me.”
When he deems it’s been too long waiting for your answer—five seconds—Jaemin looks up, only to see your lips curl. You cross your arms over your chest, hands tightening its grip on your elbow before loosening. “This is what you called me down for?” you scoff. “I have practice.”
Jaemin rolls his eyes. “It’s not like you’re far from the field. All you have to do is turn the corner and walk for, like, three minutes to get to your team.”
“You couldn’t have just talked to me about this on the bleachers?”
“No, because nobody should see me.”
“Well, because—!” he sputters, waving his arms wildly towards you. He’s sure he looks like an idiot, sitting on concrete, flailing his limbs, while you’re towering over him with thinly veiled chagrin. “You’re you. Isn’t that enough of an answer?”
You furrow your eyebrows, glancing away from him to gather your thoughts into a sentence. “Is that supposed to be a compliment or something?”
He sends you an aggravated look. “You should know by now that it’s nowhere close.”
Checking the time on your phone, you mutter, “Better hurry up, Jaemin, if I’m late by a minute, Coach is going to beat my ass.”
The statement does nothing to scare Jaemin into continuing, and he wants nothing more than to keep you here longer just so you can face the wrath of your cheer coach, but he needs to leave soon for his shift—apparently, his aunt is stopping by to pick which ice cream she wants for the wedding reception. Jaemin’s nowhere near excited. Ever since Saturday, she’s been radiating an aura of love, and it feels like Valentine’s Day whenever he walks into the house.
“Since I’m telling you what you want and helping you with homecoming stuff, I should get two things, too,” he pushes himself up to his feet. “You helping with the wedding is definitely not enough for me.”
You blink at him before tilting your head. “Theatre kids like you just love being dramatic, huh? You’re acting like I’m asking you to be my mom’s midwife,” you grumble under your breath. “Fine. What do you want, Jaemin?”
“Well… there’s a lot of options, I did spend all night coming up with—”
“Okay?” you interject, eyes trained on your phone, slowly losing interest in the conversation. “Just tell me your best idea.”
“Right, of course,” Jaemin nods even though you don’t see it. “It’s a little weird, though. I just want to make sure you’re okay with—”
“Yeah, whatever, sure,” you mutter, exasperated and impatient. “What is it?”
Jaemin struggles to find a way to formulate his thoughts into words, and your vexation only grows when he opens his mouth and words fail to fall. You’re about to chide him for wasting your time—he wonders, for a moment, if this is what he acts like whenever you talk to him. “My family’s been bothering me about when I’m gonna get a relationship.”
Your eyes narrow. “I’m not going to date you, Jaemin.”
Jaemin feels an unwelcome blanket of desperation take over him. “Y/N, please,” he pleads, and your eyebrows rise high at the sound. You open your mouth, about to comment on his hopelessness, when your phone buzzes in your hand.
“I have to take this.” Bringing a finger up to silence his attempts to continue talking, you press your phone into your ear. “Yes, hi, I’m here— no, not at the field, I mean at the school— shut up—” you look at Jaemin, scrutinizing the curve of his lips, and something flickers in your eyes; a mixture of exhaustion and discontent and another emotion he can’t interpret. “I have to go—I’m not talking to you, Chanhee—fine, I’ll date you—Chanhee, I’m not talking to you—!”
It takes a moment for Jaemin to realize your words were directed at him. “Wait,” he calls, and you turn sharply to silence him, pointing harshly at your phone. You don’t want Chanhee blabbering about the two of you—frankly, he doesn’t either, but Jaemin feels a weird thrill in getting a reaction out of you. Quietly, he mouths, “We’ll talk later.”
“Whatever,” you mumble in response before you make your way around the corner to walk to the field.
And it’s not that Jaemin cares or anything, but once you’re out of sight, he can’t help but think about how there was no goodbye muttered into the air. He grips the notebook tightly, and he convinces himself the feeling surging through him is resentment.
The only person you have to blame is yourself. Anybody with common sense knows that the last person you should be calling while finalizing a fake dating agreement is Choi Chanhee, with his big mouth and his thirst for drama that never seems to be quenched. The only bright side to this situation is that Chanhee doesn’t know who you were talking to, and that the whole arrangement is fake. Thank God, otherwise you wouldn’t have been able to face any of your classmates for the rest of your life.
Y/N, head cheerleader, agreeing to fake date someone. The jokes write themselves.
The day the gossip’s released is always the worst, because it’s the only thing people have their minds on for the rest of the day. Chanhee, knowing this, didn’t tell people what he heard yesterday at practice—but you’re sure it was eating him up, from the way he refused to talk to you throughout the entire two hours—and told people today. First being Rue, who’s trustworthy with secrets, but gets loud and excited when she’s told them.
Rue tells Ryujin while they’re waiting for their Applied mathematics teacher, but the whole class definitely heard her. Ryujin tells Yeji, and Yeji lets it slip to Donghyuck while they’re on their way to Graphic Arts. Donghyuck sends a text to Chaewon, and they both send you plentiful angry texts in the groupchat; your phone buzzes so much that Mr Cruz has to take it away from you during class.
By the time the third period arrives, you’re sure everybody knows about your so-called relationship. During Culinary Arts, you ask your teacher to transfer groups because it’s the only thing Chaeryeong and Ryujin will talk about. Unfortunately, you’re placed with Liu Yangyang, and he spends the entirety of the class trying to guess who the lucky person is. He burns half of the food.
Jaemin finds you in the library when lunch arrives.
He ignores the surprised look on your face as he places himself in front of you, clutching his red lunchbox and rolling you an apple.
Simply, he says, “You need to eat while we go over some details.”
He sighs. “Tricking my family,” he points his chin towards the fruit, and you carefully pick it up. “I didn’t poison it, Snow White.”
You throw him an annoyed look and fiddle with the stem of the apple, watching Jaemin’s movements closely. “How did you even find me? Did you follow me after class?”
“Asked around,” Jaemin says. His jaw clenches for a moment when he adds, “Donghyuck doesn’t know where you are, but he thinks I’m a lover scorned. I never got to talk to you about that—why did you tell people I’m in love with you?”
“I didn’t, that was Hyunjin’s friend. And don’t look at me like that, you’re going to have to pretend to love me anyway, so it all worked out in the end, right?”
“I guess,” he tilts his head. Then, innocently says, “I’m gonna admit it might be a little hard.”
You don’t take the bait. “Really? This can’t be as hard as other things you've pretended to be,” you rest the side of your head in your hands, giving him the same look he gave you. “You’re in Drama, you know how to act. For me, however…”
“I’m a saint compared to you.”
You tut. “There you go again, Jaemin.” He hates the way you say his name. No matter how much poison you’ve twisted into the vowels of your words, you pronounce his name softly, gently, with fragility. You’re not aware that you do this, but Jaemin knows how to pick up on the smallest details. “Acting like I’ve ruined your life. Here’s a question—if Chaewon didn’t sabotage you all those years ago, would we be friends right now?”
It’s something he’s never thought of, a friendship between you and him. And it’s something he definitely doesn’t want to think about now. Annoyed, he ungracefully dodges the subject. “Details about our agreement, Y/N.”
“Of course,” you drawl. “So what, are we going to be one of those people who make a contract? Do I have to sign my name on something? Is that why you’re taking a piece of paper out right now?”
“What? No,” Jaemin falters slightly. “Well—yeah, but only because I don’t trust you to hold your end of the deal.”
“I see. Is this legally binding?”
He shoots you a look. “If you break it, it’ll be on your subconscious forever. You know, like in the movies? Haunt you in your dreams and have you begging me for forgiveness when you can’t take it anymore?”
“Hm,” you muse. “You’ve given this a lot of thought, huh?”
Jaemin sighs again. He taps his knuckles twice on the paper laying before him. “We have to figure out the terms of our agreement, Y/N, otherwise I’m going to fuck up your homecoming stuff and you’re going to slip up during the wedding.”
You furrow your eyebrows. “Wait,” you stop him from digging through his pencil case for his coloured pens. “I’m going to the wedding?”
“I thought we already talked about this.”
You shake your head quickly. “Um, no, I was helping out with the wedding, and also lying to your family about you finally getting a social life.” An offended scoff slips past his lips, and the sound almost makes you laugh. “You never said anything about actually going.”
“Well, you’re gonna have to if this thing is going to work—” He sees the joy on your face and he’s quick to scowl. “Great. I forgot that you loved this—what did you call it?—celebration of love?”
You roll the apple between your hands, shaking your head as if you’re scolding him. “Are you really not excited about this?” you question. “Someone you care about is marrying somebody they love and you’re telling me none of this is making you the tiniest bit happy?”
He uncaps a Sharpie marker. “I’m not saying that I’m not happy for them, it’s just…”
It’s a gateway for him to open up, a chance for him to show you that he’s more than the boy who works behind the ice cream display four times a week, or the boy who auditions for parts in the school musical only to get the second lead. You want him to give you a reason not to dislike him. He wants you to leave it alone.
“Nothing,” Jaemin bites. He writes in capital letters, Y/N AND JAEMIN’S CONTRACT at the top of the page. It’s not in the middle, but you say nothing that’ll sour his mood more. “Okay, rule number one: don’t break the agreement. This means you don’t tell my family the truth, and I don’t purposely ruin your cheer routines, or whatever.”
“I’m not letting you anywhere near cheer, we’re just helping the student council organize some stuff,” you say, and Jaemin huffs while he writes the first rule on the pale blue lines. “Rule number two: um, I don’t know. Don’t back out until both parties have finished their part of the deal.”
“Don’t back out…” Jaemin murmurs under his breath. “Alright. Rule three: don’t tell people.”
“Whoa, what? Why?”
He shuts his eyes. “Please don’t tell me you already told Donghyuck and Chaewon.”
You scoff loudly, and you hear a faint shh! coming from the librarian at the front desk. “God, no, what do you take me for? I’m not telling them I’ve agreed to fake date someone. And Chaewon would get pissed if I picked you of all people to—”
Jaemin blinks. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“No offence, it’s just,” you lazily toss your apple from your left hand to your right. “You’re you.”
He scowls. “I said that about you yesterday.”
“Yeah? Feels like shit, doesn’t it?” you smile mockingly. “I don’t care if people find out we’re helping each other out.”
“Fine, then we don’t tell people about the fake dating thing. Anything else?”
You clasp your hands together. “Oh, yes!” you lean forward, and Jaemin leans back. “When I meet your family, are we supposed to do all that PDA stuff? Kiss each other, hold hands, give each other compliments—”
Jaemin’s swift to interrupt you. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.” He kicks your shin and you yelp in pain, moving back to bring your leg to your chest. He slides the paper to you and tosses a pen. “Sign at the bottom.”
You smirk, rubbing the skin Jaemin jabbed. The sight is foolish. “You didn’t think that far ahead, did you?”
“Obviously not,” he snarls. “Sign here.”
You throw your hands up in surrender and bring your foot back down onto the carpeted floor, taking Jaemin’s pen and messily writing your signature. Handing him back the contract, you say, “You better start using lip balm before we kiss. There’s no way we’re gonna make out if your lips are chapped.”
Your laughter bounces off the walls of the library, earning the both of you another angry hiss from the librarian. Jaemin realizes, as he scribbles his name next to yours, that letting go of this grudge is going to be very, very difficult.
You’re gonna be ambushed. You can tell from the way Chaewon and Donghyuck share a scheming smile when they spot you walking into the cafeteria.
You don’t know why you decided to leave the comfort of the library, especially since it was quiet and undisturbing, but after Jaemin left, you felt strangely lonely. A small part of you liked the company and the scolds you kept getting from the librarian. But in hindsight, being alone is better than what you’re about to face now. Better to be surrounded by books than to step foot into the mouth of a shark.
Hyunjin blocks any chance you have of escaping when he slides towards you at lightning speed, eyes wild and grin wide. You suppose it wasn’t hard for Chaewon and Donghyuck to persuade him to help with their plan; Hyunjin has always loved love, despite it biting him back in the ass more times than he can count.
His fingers wrap around your wrist and he guides you towards the table your friends occupy. With a dreadful start, you realize that they’re at the cheerleaders’ table, and some of your friends eagerly talk amongst themselves. Chanhee isn’t one of them—Chaeryeong told you during third period that he had to leave early for a dentist appointment. The little snake—and you make a mental note to send him angry Animojis after lunch is over.
“You’re late,” Donghyuck drawls when you place yourself in between him and Chaewon. He taps the watch on his wrist—for performance purposes, since he bought that thing at Walmart and it broke after a week—and adds in a condescending tone that makes his face look more punchable than it usually is, “Lunch started forever ago, Y/N. We missed you.”
You huff, taking one of his fries. He doesn’t seem to care. “Yeah, I got your texts.”
“And you just ignored them?”
“You’re an easy person to ignore,” you quip. You glance at the other person next to you. “Hi, Chaewon. Can I have your apple?”
The one Jaemin gave you lies in the trash. Even though he said otherwise, you’re still suspicious that he poisoned it.
“Go for it,” Chaewon says, quick to dismiss any of your attempts to avoid the inevitable conversation. “Where were you? Jaemin was looking for you.”
Across the table, Rue pipes up, “He looked very heartbroken,” she laughs at her own joke. Some of the people scattered around the table grin as well. “You should’ve seen Jeno, though. Broke his heart and everything.”
You scowl as you take a bite of Chaewon’s apple. “You guys are hilarious. I was in the library finishing some work.”
Donghyuck grins. “I bet. Or meeting with your secret lover—”
Chaewon sends him a look. “Don’t say it like that.”
“—that you told none of us about,” Donghyuck finishes, ignoring Chaewon’s interruption. You know the hurt he feels is drowned out by the happiness. Happy for you, for getting your first relationship since freshman year. Happy for himself, because now he has new guilt trip material to use on you when he needs a favour. “I’m very hurt by that, in case you were wondering.”
Donghyuck isn’t fazed and starts to pick at his food—a gesture to tell people he’s done with his teasing for now, and anyone else who wants to suffocate you with their questions is welcome to step up. For a split second, you think Chaewon might go next, but she’s the type of person to observe now, ask questions later. She knows you well enough to assume that the relationship gossip is a misunderstanding, and you know her well enough to assume that she’ll do her best to get the truth from you. In private, when the people have dispersed and it’s only you and her. And maybe Donghyuck, too. He has his good and bad days when it comes to keeping his mouth shut.
He’s been having a lot of bad days as of late.
You’re used to the attention people give you. Usually, the kind you’re given is the type you like. Praise for the routine at the football game. Compliments on the new sweater you bought last Sunday. The turn of heads when people hear you laugh.
The attention you don’t like is this. The ones that spark from rumours. The last time you were on the receiving end of stares akin to these was when someone said that you and Donghyuck were dating—a rumour that didn’t last long, but it was awful nonetheless—and this feels no different. Except, it might be worse, since people found out because of Chanhee, and everybody knows he’s terrible when it comes to lying.
Chanhee values nothing but the truth. And good gossip.
Hyunjin talks next. His excitement reminds you of a puppy. “So, who is it?” he leans forward, and as if on instinct, everybody else does, too. “Wait, no—don’t tell me. Tell me how it happened, because I’m still wrapping my head around the fact that you’re dating somebody that goes here.”
Yena, a former cheerleader who handed you the title of captain before she quit, nods her head in agreement. “Yeah, everyone here is kind of… bland,” she says. “I’m sure the person you’re dating isn’t, though!”
You sigh. “I’m not dating anybody.”
Hyunjin tuts. “Don’t be silly. Chanhee said—”
Frowning, Hyunjin says, “Y/N, come on.” He has a need to make people happy, and Hyunjin believes love is what makes someone happiest. You understand what he thinks, to some extent. Hyunjin was happy with Jamie. Your brother’s happy with his girlfriend. Your mom was happy with your dad. You like to think your dad was happy with her, too.
Something claws at your chest and you don’t like it. “He said he had a crush on me,” you speak, hoping it’s enough to quiet your thoughts. “The guy. He asked me out on a date, I said yes. We aren’t dating.”
Eden, one of the freshmen and a new asset to the team, whispers slowly, “I thought it was going to be more romantic than that.”
Donghyuck sends the blond a glance. “For your sake, I hope your expectations for high school romances aren’t big,” he wipes the grease of the fries on his jeans. Chaewon slides a bottle of hand sanitizer to him, which he accepts gracefully. “Or that you’re not some sort of hopeless romantic. This place isn’t the place to fulfill your biggest desires for love.”
Eden falters, pouting as he picks at the label on his bottle. Beside him, Hyunjin’s eyes hold some type of faraway bliss. He’s thinking, choosing his words carefully. “Every once and a while there’s a cute love story,” he replies, then he cuts his gaze to you. “Who’s the lucky guy?”
You gulp. “I thought you said you didn’t want to know?”
“Well, if we want to prove to Donghyuck that romcom romance exists in real life, then I need to know who he is,” Hyunjin shrugs a shoulder. “And also to make sure he’s good enough for you. Blah, blah, blah. All that cliché best friend stuff.”
“I’m not telling you guys who he is,” you respond. Immediately, there’s a cluster of protests that erupt from the table. Eden and another freshman who hasn’t spoken a word—Daisy, you think her name is. She doesn’t speak much during practice—stay silent, watching the table’s havoc. Chaewon is in her own little world, mulling over your words. You know for sure now that she’s going to talk to you later. “Not until I’m—uh—sure that we’re dating. And I don’t like the idea of you guys bothering him.”
You’re slightly thankful Chaeryeong is sitting with her other friends today, otherwise she would be cooing about the romance, and having Hyunjin here is insufferable enough. “You must really care about him, huh?” Yena practically swoons. Donghyuck gags beside her and she shoves him. “Wait, does this mean you’ll go with him to homecoming?”
Fuck. You should’ve discussed the homecoming dance with Jaemin when you had the chance.
Sensing your inner turmoil, Chaewon speaks up, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “It depends if Y/N decides they’ll keep him around,” she answers for you, and your chest collapses with relief. “They’ll still go with me and Donghyuck.”
“Oh, thank God,” Donghyuck exhales. “Y/N’s my safety date, I didn’t know what I was going to do if they bailed—”
You punch Donghyuck’s arm. He masks his wince with a broad grin. “Fuck off, Hyuck.”
“If all goes well, you’re gonna have to go to homecoming by yourself,” says Rue, her comment directed to the boy beside you. In response, he sulks. “Oh, Y/N, make sure you guys are matching when you get to the dance, because it would be embarrassing if you weren’t.”
“Um, I still don’t know if we’re actually going together—”
Eden gasps, startling Daisy. “Is he going to be in the stands during the game?”
The idea of Jaemin in the bleachers is something you can’t imagine. Now you know why you never remembered who he was—he’s never been to a game, and you remember all the faces you see in the stands. “Um, I doubt it—”
Hyunjin shrieks. “He’s a football player?”
Embarrassment blankets you when the table starts receiving curious glances. You shake your head immediately. Jaemin playing football is another thing you definitely can’t picture. It almost makes you laugh, actually. “No—”
Rue is quick to cut you off. “Does Jeno know him?”
Chaewon taps her chin. “I assume so, they are on the football team together.”
You jab her side with your elbow. “I never said he was on the football team!”
Rue is crooning. You do not like the situation you’ve found yourself in. “So, head cheerleader and football player… oh my God, Disney Channel would eat this up.”
Sometimes you forget Rue is in the drama club. You roll your eyes. Theatre kids and their never ending desire to be melodramatic. “I’m leaving,” you announce. Donghyuck takes your wrists to prevent you from standing, but you’re stronger, and you leave him whining at the table. His words are drowned out by Rue and Hyunjin making a list of people you could be dating.
Chaewon joins your side, stuffing her lunchbox into her bag before zipping it up and letting one of the straps hang on her shoulder. You weave your way through the maze of cafeteria tables, murmuring under your breath about how everybody you know seems to have no life or anything to keep them entertained, all while Chaewon listens.
You two stop by the garbage cans first. Chaewon empties her pockets of wrappers and you throw what’s left of your apple into the compost bin. “I texted Chanhee after Hyuck told me about your date,” she begins, glancing up at you. “The rumours didn’t say anything about you sounding annoyed when you said you’d go on a date with lover boy.”
“It’s a long story,” you explain, waving your hand in the air in dismissal. “And you would just tell me I’m stupid for getting myself into a situation like this.”
Chaewon frowns, voice lowered. “Are you in trouble or something?”
You shake your head. “No, I’m fine, Chaewon, seriously,” you confirm, and she searches your eyes for any trace of a lie before nodding. “It’s nothing you have to worry about. Besides, I think this rumour is going to die down once everyone realizes I’m not actually dating someone.”
She hums. “Chanhee’s gossip credibility would be ruined.”
You find yourself smiling. “Good. Serves him right.”
Once Chaewon’s done putting her trash into the cans, you both turn to start walking towards the doors of the cafeteria. “So you’re still coming with me and Hyuck to homecoming?”
You don’t know how it happens and how he finds you, but Jaemin’s gaze catches yours moments before you reach the exit. He’s with his friends, barely contributing to a lively conversation between Yangyang and Renjun, and he seems to have noticed that you and Chaewon have to pass their table to leave. Suddenly, you want to shut down the conversation about your love life.
“Hey, Y/N!” Jeno greets you as you pass. Chaewon stops walking, causing you to still as well. You send Jeno a polite smile. “I heard about your new relationship! Happy to know that at least someone in my life is head over heels and in love.”
Jaemin tenses, though nobody notices except for you. “Yeah,” you exhale uncomfortably. “We’re not dating, though, it was just—Chanhee misheard.”
Jeno doesn’t look convinced. “Oh. Well…” he trails off, unsure on how to continue. “That’s too bad?”
“Yeah,” you scratch your cheek. Jaemin looks at you as if you’ll spill out all the secrets and break the contract you just created. You’re offended he has absolutely no faith in you. “It’s too bad. I’ll see you in Calc?”
Jeno nods and Chaewon drags you out. Before you leave, you see Jaemin’s shoulders droop in relief.
Part of you wishes you broke your promise and told everyone you’re dating him.
iv. FRENCH VANILLA
“I never took you to be a baker.” Jaemin is so lost in looking for the right food colouring that he almost forgot there was someone else accompanying him on this spontaneous Walmart trip. “I figured you were more of a food critic or a judge. Like, you know all the tips and tricks to make a good meal, but you can’t do it yourself.”
Jaemin glances over his shoulder. “Talking high and mighty for someone who burnt their pancakes in eighth grade cooking class.”
“Do you have any memories of me that aren’t from eighth grade?” You plant your feet on the metal underneath the shopping cart and grip onto the handle to keep from falling. “Because that was a horrible time for me. My skin was so dry and I always paired polka dot pants with striped shirts.”
Jaemin grabs a bottle of red colouring and carefully puts it in the cart. “You dressed like that in sixth. Your skin was just dry in eighth,” he says absentmindedly. He misses the way your eyebrows crease.
“You need to stop saying things like that.” When Jaemin gestures for you to hop off the cart, you jump and move to the side so he can lead you to the next aisle. “If I didn’t know that you hated my guts, I would think you actually liked me. Know me better than I know myself or something.”
Jaemin barks out a laugh. “I just have a good memory.”
You’re silent as he pushes the cart. Then— “I’ve never heard your laugh before.” A pause once he reaches the end and waits for a mother to walk past. “It’s nice.”
Jaemin flinches and almost slams the cart into another in the process. The mother is just as startled as him, albeit for other reasons. She nods quickly at Jaemin’s mumbled apologies and continues her trek to another aisle where she most likely won’t be surprised by a bumbling teenager accompanied by a grinning individual. When Jaemin turns to look at you, you’re already smirking. You like the effect you have on him.
“God, don’t just say stuff like that,” he huffs, skillfully turning the cart. You follow from behind; the angry stomp he’s doing right now isn’t as intimidating as he thinks it is.
“Like—you know what.”
You stand by his side again when he’s parked the cart near the cereals. He refuses to meet your eye—instead focussing on choosing between a box of Lucky Charms or Frosted Flakes—but he doesn’t need to, to know that the grin still hasn’t wavered from your face. The only thing to get it to slip is to insult you or annoy you back, but Jaemin can’t find the energy to. Not when he’s standing in front of a large variety of cereal.
“It was a compliment, Jaemin.” He doesn’t reply. “Have you never been complimented before?”
“I have,” he says defensively. “I just don’t want to get any from you.”
You take the box of Lucky Charms from his hand and place it in the cart. As he’s about to open his mouth to protest, you raise a finger to quiet him, and he feels the familiar twinge of annoyance in his chest. “You were staring at this box more than that one, and we’d just be wasting time if you continued playing eenie-meenie in your head. Also,” you tilt your head with a glint in your eye. “I knew you were gonna say that—I don’t want to get any compliments from you—you’re predictable.”
Glowering, he says, “I don’t sound like that.”
“Yes, you do. Your voice is very high-pitched.”
Jaemin doesn’t know what he was thinking when he invited you to come with him. You had come into the parlour after practice—“Ditched,” you had told him, exhausted. “They wouldn’t shut up about me and you. Well, me. They don’t know about you.”—and even when you mocked him after he asked if you were okay, he still let you come.
Jaemin’s good at convincing himself. He sinks into the comfortable idea that he let you tag along because of what Jeno said about Jaemin and his unhealthy grudges.
Your music taste isn’t bad. The station you picked on the car ride here didn’t make Jaemin want to rip his ears out. Sometimes, when he isn’t the person you’re laughing at, your jokes are funny. You’re passionate, too. About cheer, about weddings, about other things that Jaemin supposes he’ll find out about if he continues to spend time with you like this.
That’s his list of things he likes—tolerates—about you. His list of things he hates is longer.
Apparently he’s silent for too long because you’ve switched the topic. “What are you baking anyway?” you examine the contents of the shopping cart, ignoring the food his mom asked him to buy. “A cake? Is this for your aunt?”
Jaemin exhales. “Yeah, for the wedding.” He watches you deflate. “What?”
“That means I have to help you, right?”
“It’s part of our agreement.”
“Oh my God.”
The smirk is on his face before he even realizes it. “I’m assuming from your reaction that you still can’t bake?”
The smile on your face is long gone, replaced with sheepishness. “You knew that already,” you hiss, shoving him to the side to push the cart, just so you have something to do with your hands. “You said so yourself. Eighth grade, burnt pancakes.”
Jaemin falls into step beside you. “Yeah, I was joking,” he refuses to let a laugh slip past, in case you comment about it again. “I figured you would’ve at least gotten better.”
You look hopeful when you say, “Does this mean I don’t have to help with baking?”
“No, you are,” he responds. Your optimism melts. “I don’t care if the cake ends up tasting like ass.”
“You really want this wedding to go to shit, don’t you?”
“Of course not,” Jaemin gasps, very offended by the accusation. Although a small part of him doesn’t mind it. “Everyone will be too busy gushing over the newlyweds to even care. All that matters to me is that we get a cake made.”
You’re hunched over the cart handles as you lazily push it towards the checkout. “You’re a very pessimistic person, Jaemin,” you observe. It almost catches him off guard. “Are you like this all the time?”
“Only with you.”
You smile. “Oh, I feel so special,” you sigh wistfully with sarcasm dripping from your lips. Once the two of you make it to the checkout and Jaemin starts putting items on the conveyor belt, you tap your fingers on the cart, trying to get his attention. He hums. “Do you want to go to the diner after this?”
The offer causes him to stop, and the cashier eyes him with concern. “Sorry?”
“I have a feeling Chaeryeong and Rue are gonna be knocking on my door asking why I didn’t come to practice,” you explain. Jaemin has noticed that, when you’re frustrated, you tighten your grip on something to control it. “Head cheerleader ditching isn’t something very… leader-y.”
His eyebrows rise. “Leader-y?”
“Yeah.” You pout, waving your hand in his face so you don’t have to see his mirth. “I don’t know the right word. Point is, I don’t want to go home.”
Jaemin bites his tongue, turning his gaze to look at the display of gum. He pretends that he’s considering buying a pack of Mentos before he replies with, “Maybe next time.” He almost winces at the implication that there will be a time when that happens. He forces himself to suck it up, because things like this are bound to happen with the arrangement you two have made. “I can’t let the ice cream melt otherwise my mom will kill me.”
He doesn’t see your face when you release a breath through your teeth. “Right, I wouldn’t want to ruin your beloved French vanilla,” you say. He has a feeling you’re not used to being rejected. “And I guess facing my friends now would be better than facing them tomorrow. Chaewon is always telling me I shouldn’t be running from my problems.”
Jaemin has a feeling there’s more weight to the words than you’re letting on, but he doesn’t push. Frankly, because he doesn’t care. Your problems are your own to deal with.
When Jaemin drops you off at your house later—the car ride is quiet, and he’s surprised to see that you still live in the same house after all these years—you dig through one of the reusable bags in the backseat before you get out. Jaemin doesn’t hurry you because he assumes this is your way of stalling—he spots Chaeryeong’s car parked out front—and the thought that you shouldn’t be scouring through the bags doesn’t cross his mind. Jaemin went to Walmart to get his own things. You only tagged along; you didn’t buy anything.
The door slams shut, and you bring your hand up to wave Jaemin goodbye. The silver of the Mentos package glints before it disappears as your fingers curl around the object. Jaemin’s eyes meet yours, and you grin.
You have got to stop exploiting him like this.
v. SPREAD EAGLE
It seems as if, no matter how much you attempt to grow out of the person you once were, it becomes all too easy to fall back onto bad habits. And you would like to think that you’re no longer the same person you were in eighth grade, but being competitive is written in your DNA. And there is no way you’re going to lose to Na Jaemin.
He’s out of breath, panting as he collapses against the fence separating the football field from anything outside of school grounds. A deflated soccer ball rolls to his feet after you tiredly kick it in his direction before collapsing on the field yourself. You know that when you get up, strands of grass will be stuck to your back and won’t fall no matter how many times you try to brush them off, but you can’t bring yourself to care.
“Five minute break,” Jaemin heaves, and you barely hear him through the heavy panting of your own. “And then we go again. Tiebreaker.”
A simple game of twenty questions had evolved into a game of truth or dare and then turned into a game of soccer after Jaemin mentioned that he used to play when he was little. You then in turn said something along the lines of Oh, I bet you were pretty bad, though, which probably wasn’t a good idea, in hindsight, since Jaemin never backs down from a challenge, and neither do you. So you two might be here until the sun goes down.
You probably won’t even be able to hear the school bell ring from this far out in the field
“I would’ve won by now if—” you cough when you feel your throat dry up, “—if you counted that shot earlier. It wasn’t out. You’re just a sore loser.”
“Yeah,” he agrees breathlessly, then points to the improvised goals you two made using the limited materials you have. “But that was out of bounds. Flew past my hat.”
Unable to come up with a retort you hadn’t already used when this problem first arose, you decide to reply with: “Your hat is fucking ugly.”
If you didn’t know any better, Jaemin’s smiling. Exhaustion must really fuck with his brain. “Thanks. It was a gift from Jeno, so maybe you should tell him just how much you hate his sense of fashion.”
“Maybe I will,” you sit up, but the sun glares into your eyes and you flop back down to avoid the harsh light. “That shade of red doesn’t go well with your hair. Or anyone, now that I think about it. Maybe Donghyuck. I don’t know what it is about him, but he can pull anything off…”
Jaemin quietly sighs. “I bet.”
You rub your eyes. “I think it’s been five minutes.”
“No, it hasn’t.” You can feel him staring holes into your figure. “It’s barely been three.”
You shield your eyes using your hands. “I’m so tired, Jaemin.”
A laugh bursts from your throat. “I don’t think surrender is the right word.”
He scowls, but it’s only temporary. “Fine, forfeit. They both mean the same thing,” he answers plainly. “Let me win, Y/L/N. You owe me.”
“Here we go again. Eighth gra—”
“What? No,” Jaemin scoffs. “I meant that you made me pay for your meal the other day at Denny’s, and yesterday you slipped a pack of Mentos into my cart so I’d pay for them. I think that’s, like, illegal.”
Strategically sitting up so the sun doesn’t ambush you with its luminescence again, you say, “Not illegal. Morally bad, I think, fits better.”
“Exactly. Morally bad. Let me win this game, Y/N.”
You stare at him for a long moment, enjoying the way he shifts uncomfortably under your stare. When something involves you, Jaemin will turn anything into a competition, and the corner of your lip quirks up when his posture hardens. Honeyed eyes glare into yours—an unspoken staring contest—and you don’t waver until you see his eyes start to water.
Blinking, you look away, and let him savour this win, because pigs will fly before you lose to him in a game of soccer.
“You know I’m not gonna do that.”
You expect him to sigh, give you another long winded speech about how you screwed him over all those years ago—which he did last night, after you said you couldn’t remember anything from that day. It was supposed to get a reaction out of him, but you never expected to be tired after reading the dozens of messages he sent.
( [11:44 p.m] you: wtf are you writing an essay? those texts are like paragraphs
[11:45 p.m] you: you had a thesis and everything
[11:47 p.m] loml 🤥: this doesn’t sound like you’re appreciating all the effort i put into those messages
[11:47 p.m] loml 🤥: my fingers hurt
[11:47 p.m] you: I DIDNT ASK YOU TO DO THAT
[11:48 p.m] loml 🤥: i think they might be broken?? ur helping me pay my health bills.
[11:49 p.m] you: GOODNIGHT. JAEMIN. )
Jaemin only blinks, and with an unnecessarily long sigh, he pulls himself up and grabs the soccer ball. It startles you. Jaemin never listens to what you have to say, especially if it’s said just to piss him off. In the short amount of time you’ve spent with him, you’ve grown used to his rancor and his actions fuelled by spite, to the point that you just assumed he would be like this with you even after the arrangement ends.
“Hey, idiot!” he bellows so loudly you think some of your wandering classmates might hear. But lunch is nearing its end, and you and Jaemin picked a spot on the field that nobody hangs out in because it’s so far away from the doors. “Are we ending this game or what?”
Jaemin’s skin glows under the sunlight. You think he would be pretty if his personality wasn’t so horrible.
(single losers + yn) cheerleading team :D
[12:05 p.m] chaer 🌙: hey yn are you eating with us today? i wanna know more abt your bf
[12:06 p.m] rue 🦋: I think they will ?? Chaewon n Hyuck are in a student council meeting right?
[12:06 p.m] chaer 🌙: mhm yeji mentioned something abt one
[12.09 p.m] hyun 🤓: omw some1 save me a seat
[12:09 p.m] hyun 🤓: also what if yn is eating with their boyfriend and not with us?
[12:09 p.m] eden: Who is he btw? @ Chanhee
[12:10 p.m] TRAITOR: idk 😅 if i did i’d tell u guys but sadly… ):
[12:34 p.m] chaer 🌙: yn???
[12:35 p.m] TRAITOR: where r they lol
[12:47 p.m] rue 🦋: Ditching us for love already? BOOO 👎
[12:47 p.m] rue 🦋: jk I hope you and him are having fun yn!!! You deserve it <3
vi. SUGAR FREE VANILLA
This was never supposed to happen.
“I swear,” Jaemin tells you as you slip off your battered Nikes and scan the havoc that is the Na household. “I thought they weren’t going to be here today.”
“It’s fine,” you reply. He spots the familiar glint of mischief he’s grown to hate. “I’m not complaining. This gives me the perfect chance to get blackmail material.”
“Childhood stories,” you say simply. Jaemin feels the colour instantly drain from his face. “Come on. Introduce me to your family.”
You step forward, skillfully dodging two of Jaemin’s cousins running down the hallway, but before you can get any farther in your search for the living room, Jaemin’s fingers curl around your wrist before he pulls you towards him. You ungracefully trip over the pile of shoes scattered by the door, and if it weren’t for Jaemin quickly placing his hands on your shoulders to keep you upright, you would’ve fell.
“We haven’t rehearsed,” he hisses into your ear. “And if we haven’t rehearsed, this isn’t going to be believable, so go home and I’ll call you later.”
You brush his hands off and gently squeeze your knuckles into your shoulder to get rid of the unfamiliar tingles on your skin. “Aren’t you an actor?”
“This is different,” he says, eyes wide with alarm. “If we fuck this up, then it’s over. The deal’s over.”
You turn away from the screams and the giggles that seem to be coming from every direction. “Why are you making such a big deal out of this? You’re so dramatic,” you raise an eyebrow as he huffs and slips his black denim jacket off his shoulders. “Is it because I said I’d blackmail you? I was only joking.”
Jaemin leans down to pick up your shoes. “Go home, Y/N.”
“You’re an awful boyfriend.”
“I’ve never been one.” The comment slips before he can even think, but it’s enough to startle you. Now that your guard’s down, Jaemin takes the chance to steer you towards the door, and he would’ve been successful in leading you out the house if it weren’t for the loud call of his name that causes both of your heads to snap in the direction of the doorway leading to the kitchen.
“Jaemin!” Aunt Eunbin exclaims, flour dusting her cheeks. “Who is this?”
“Y/N Y/LN,” you interject, pulling away from Jaemin’s hold to shake his aunt’s hand. The picture-perfect smile he’s so used to seeing—in the yearbook, in group photos posted on Instagram, in the hallways at school whenever he walks past you—appears, and he’s startled by how much it brightens your face. He’s never seen it this close before. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Jaemin’s…”
Aunt Eunbin’s eyebrows raise when you trail off and glance over your shoulder to look at him. He snaps out of his daze and averts his gaze from your smile to his aunt. He swings an arm over your shoulder, and he hopes he made it look natural. “We’re dating.”
“Oh?” Eunbin tilts her head in confusion. “Why have I never been told this? Did you tell your mother? Because she didn’t tell me when I saw her earlier.”
“No, it’s…” Jaemin bites his tongue when you place your hand over his. “It’s new.”
“Oh. Well,” Eunbin smiles at you widely. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Jaemin’s aunt Eunbin.”
“It’s nice to finally put a face to the name,” you respond politely. You’re sucking up, Jaemin knows this, except you don’t make it sound like you are. It’s odd that you can talk to strangers like you’re already best friends. “Jaemin mentions you a lot! Congratulations on the wedding, by the way—he won’t stop talking about it. He’s really excited!”
He tries to refrain from stepping on your toe.
Eunbin smiles, cheeks flushed with a cherry hue, and reaches out to take your hand to lead you further into the house. Jaemin stands on the welcome mat, dumbfounded, as you hypnotize yet another person with your charms and kind smile. He sees this happen so much that he wonders if you’re aware of it.
“As amazing as that is,” he hears Eunbin say, “he hasn’t talked about you a lot. And Jaemin loves talking.”
Jaemin almost stumbles while he’s dropping your shoes back on the floor, racing to join your side again and narrowly missing a lego structure his little cousins left in the middle of the hallway. “Oh, it’s just because it’s…” he trails off, desperately wracking his brain for an excuse only to fall short. “It’s just new.”
“Yes, you said that earlier, Jaemin.”
You send him a look, baffled at his inability to improvise. “Well, we’ve kept it quiet for a while,” you say quickly. Jaemin looks at you, eyes wide, frightened that you’ll blow everything up with a simple statement. He wouldn’t put it past you. “Even Jeno didn’t know.”
“Yeah!” Jaemin exclaims, relief engulfing him like a fuzzy blanket on a cold winter night. “He was—uh—really surprised when he found out.”
Eunbin frowns. “But why would you keep it a secret?”
All eyes are on Jaemin when you glance over, handing this question over to him. To make me suffer, he thinks, but he knows it’s because you’ve already answered one question and now it’s his turn to answer another. Except his throat closes up—he never expected lying to his family to be this hard—and as Eunbin’s face quickly turns suspicious, you turn away from him, giving his aunt a nervous smile.
“It was my fault,” you reply. Your hand slips into his, and he hates how easily it happens. “This is my first relationship.”
He knows for a fact that isn’t true. In freshman year, you dated Lee Chan for five months until he had to move during the summer. The news of your relationship had been Jeno’s first heartbreak, and Jaemin had to stop himself from saying I told you Y/N didn’t like you back for over two weeks. But the look in your eyes is honest, and he’s scarily intrigued by how good you are at pretending.
But he’s thankful you saved him from the terrible lie that was about to tumble from his mouth.
Eunbin’s eyes soften. “Well, I’m glad that Jaemin is your first boyfriend.” Her eyes flicker up to him. “He’s a good kid.”
Your hands tighten around his. “He is.”
Eunbin excuses herself to go back into the kitchen and help her nephews bake cookies. Once she’s gone, Jaemin tears his hand from your grasp. The warmth from yours leaves an odd tingling sensation on his skin, burning and setting his flesh ablaze. He dusts his hands on his jeans, hoping to rid the feeling, but it sticks to him, reminding him that this is how things are now. Hand holding, shoulders brushing, smiles of teenage young love.
Jaemin always imagined his first relationship would be like this. But with someone he actually cares about. Someone that makes his heart beat with happiness and not fury. Someone that doesn’t take and take from him. Someone that isn’t in this relationship because they benefit something from it.
But pretending was his idea, and so he keeps his mouth shut.
You, however, have let your lips curl into a sneer.
“What the hell was that?” you hiss so quietly it almost gets lost in the shrieks of his cousins. “Hyuck was telling me how you’re always playing important parts in musicals, and you would think that someone like that would be good at acting.”
He leans against the small wooden table by the stairs, littered with family photos and souvenirs from trips. “You asked Donghyuck about me?” He’s not very happy at the thought of Lee Donghyuck, deceitful and troublesome, telling you about him. Donghyuck has never been known for being a very credible person.
“He’s my friend.”
“And you didn’t tell him about—?”
“No! Of course not,” you scoff. “I asked him about you before this whole thing started. Like, the day after I met you.”
“We met before that day in the parlour, you know. Years before.”
“Yeah, I know that,” you sigh, folding your arms over your chest. “I just forgot about you because—whatever.”
His eyes narrow. “No, finish your sentence.”
You sigh and purse your lips together afterwards. This isn’t the right place for the two of you to get into an argument, but the moments spent talking with Eunbin about your relationship felt wrong, and he’s unknowingly clawing for a sense of familiarity. So, if it means riling you up until you’re babbling to him about the grudges he holds and his seemingly permanent moodiness, then so be it.
Your eyes shut. “If you had just told me about what you felt that day, we wouldn’t be here,” you tell him. He isn’t quite sure if you’re referring to last week or three years ago. “Or if you just told me how I could fix it, we wouldn’t—”
“Have this agreement,” he interrupts before you can get ahead, losing yourself in an alternate reality that will only ever exist in a different world, not here. Never here. “And I’d be stuck with suffering through the wedding alone.”
Your arms fall to your sides. “You really think I wouldn’t help you even if we were on good terms?”
“Why would you?” he swipes a small building block off the table to avoid your eyes. “You wouldn’t get anything. And don’t say that you’d get homecoming stuff—I know you have plenty of people you could’ve asked instead. You added it into the agreement because you know how much I’d hate it. The only reason you’re in this is cause you want to know what you did wrong, and you can’t live with the fact that not everyone is in love with you.”
You don’t reply as quickly as he thought you would. No retort comes flying from your mouth to pierce through him. Instead, all Jaemin hears is mayhem. Screams and shouts and laughter bounces off the walls, but your lack of response is what rings through his ears. He wonders if it would be better if the two of you were just standing in deafening silence instead of this.
Eventually, you say evenly, “You make this a lot harder, you know?”
Jaemin doesn’t know what emotion is on your face, but he knows for a fact he doesn’t like it. “Y/N—”
“I’m going to talk to your aunt,” you interrupt, turning from him and following the trail of flour dusting the floor that Eunbin left behind. Jaemin hopes he doesn’t have to sweep that up later. “I came here for childhood stories, and that’s what I’m getting.”
Jaemin stands alone in the hallway for a moment, watching your figure disappearing before he sighs, pushing himself off the table and following you to the kitchen.
On the neverending list of things Jaemin hates, messy cooking areas is one of them. For some reason, he finds that cleaning kitchens is so much harder than cleaning any other place in the house. Food seems to stain every surface, from the countertop and the inside of cupboards, to the floor underneath the fridge and under the sink. Jaemin has always loved cooking. There is something therapeutic about mixing ingredients until they’ve bloomed into something better—but he hates cleaning. He will always hate cleaning.
He better not be forced to help clean this.
“Jaemin!” Jisung, one of his younger cousins exclaims, flour adorned on the tip of his nose. Jisung lives down the street but attends a private school, and so Jaemin only sees him at family gatherings. “I didn’t know you were here yet! I thought you said you had a shift?”
Jaemin winces but brushes the statement off, hoping that Jisung will be so blinded by his excitement that he won’t put two and two together and realize Jaemin lied about his afternoon plans. “I thought you guys were supposed to be at the park?”
Jisung jabs his thumb behind him. “Forecast said it was going to rain.”
Jaemin looks over Jisung’s shoulder at the window, where the sun shines brightly in a clear cerulean sky. “It’s nice out, though?”
“That’s what Soojin told me, though,” he frowns, glancing over to the tall brunette girl that just entered the kitchen, Airpods shoved into her ears and phone grasped loosely in her hand. “Hey, Soojin. It’s going to rain soon, right?”
Soojin blinks at him. “Sorry?”
“You said it was going to rain.”
“Oh,” Soojin mumbles, following Jaemin’s line of sight to the open window. Her lips twitch into an amused smile before she shrugs a shoulder. “I did. Guess I was wrong.”
Jisung scowls, dusting off the flour on his shirt before huffing an annoyed, “You lied to us?”
“Because I didn’t want to go,” she replies before taking one of the freshly baked cookies off the rack. She takes a bite, lets the gooey chocolate melt in her mouth, then nods her head towards the figure sitting on the counter. “Shouldn’t you be questioning why Jaemin brought someone that isn’t one of his loser friends into this house, though?”
Jaemin pouts. “Don’t call my friends that.”
“We both know I’m right,” Soojin shoves her phone into her pocket before loading her hands with as many cookies as she can hold. “These are good, by the way.”
As Soojin goes to leave, Jisung shouts, “They’re poisoned!” before he turns his head and examines you, chatting with Eunbin about the embarrassing childhood stories you wanted to hear about. For a moment, Jaemin had forgotten you were here, parading around his house, and his shoulders drop at the thought of having to introduce you to the rest of his family as the person he’s dating.
But in order for everything to work, he has to.
Jisung eyes him suspiciously. “Who is that?”
Jaemin settles into the stool placed at the kitchen island. “Friend.”
One of his younger cousins sticks his tongue out and says very dramatically and very loudly, “They’re dating!”
Jisung’s eyes widen. “What? Since when?”
Your head snaps over to the two boys, head tilted at the sound of Jisung’s surprised shriek. You’re met with the boy hurrying to slide into the seat beside you while Jaemin—ever the knight in shining armour—helplessly stares as everything unfolds.
“Hi,” Jisung says eagerly, clasping his hands together and slightly scaring you with the bright wide smile split across his face. “How are you? I’m Jisung.”
Eunbin shifts her gaze from the dough she’s kneading. “What are you doing?”
Jisung keeps his eyes on you and you keep your eyes on Jaemin. He gives you an uneasy smile, and you decide then and there that you have never met anybody as unhelpful as him. “Interrogating Jaemin’s friend,” Jisung replies. “Well, not his friend. His first relationship, which I didn’t know about until—”
Jaemin sighs. “Jisung.”
Jisung ignores him. “You look familiar.”
Your eyebrows furrow and you give Jisung a tense smile. Uncomfort seeps into your bones. “Uh, yeah,” you reply with a small nod. Jaemin slowly stands from his spot, inching closer to you in curiosity at the sudden change in your mood. “I think I’ve seen you around before, too.”
The younger boy doesn’t seem to notice the sudden tension and the way you’ve stiffened. “What did you say your name was?”
As each second of quiet passes, your shoulders start to droop. Jaemin makes a mental reminder to bother you about your behaviour when the two of you are alone. It’s not that Jaemin cares or anything. But seeing you like this is something he’s not used to, something he never thought he’d see—you’re cracking, and it’s all because of Jisung.
The discovery of you not being as perfect as everyone says you are just might be the highlight of his day.
Except Jaemin feels his hands twitch with worry when Jisung snaps his fingers and grins. “Oh! You’re related to Cal, right? He’s your brother?” he questions, although from the recognition on his face, you don’t need to confirm anything. “Me and him coach the little league soccer team. Well—he coaches, I help out. He’s a nice guy.”
You smile back, but this statement has clearly opened up a wound that won’t be able to close so easily. “Yeah. A little annoying sometimes, but overall really nice.”
Jisung rests his cheek on his palm. “How are you parents?” he asks with naive interest, taking his eyes off you momentarily to reach over and grab a cookie. Eunbin grumbles under her breath about how most of the sweets have already disappeared off the cooling rack and walks towards the oven to check on the other baked treats. Both of them don’t notice the way your smile slips, almost completely, for a fraction of a second before you plaster it on your face again.
But Jaemin sees it, and you make a point not to meet his eyes.
“They’re, uh,” you stammer, wringing your fingers together. “They’re okay, I guess. Mom’s good. I don’t know about Dad. Cal talks to him more than I do. But they’re on good terms.”
“That’s good to hear!” Jisung says enthusiastically. “Cal was telling me last week that they had been fighting about—”
Jaemin speaks for the first time in minutes and almost blows the operation for, what feels like, the umpteenth time. “Fighting?” he interrupts, confused.
“Uh, yeah,” Jisung tilts his head. “Did you not know?”
Jaemin meets your eyes and you shake your head subtly at him—what that means, he doesn’t know, but he feels the urge to pause the conversation. “No, I did, I just—Y/N doesn’t like to talk about it.”
Jisung blinks before shaking his head vigorously, panicked, and looks to you with regret. “Oh! I’m so sorry! Oh my God,” he rambles, shooting up from his chair and placing his hand on top of yours while apologies fervently spill past his teeth. “That was way out of line, I’m sorry, Cal usually talks to me about this stuff, and I got carried away—doesn’t matter. I’m so sorry—”
“It’s okay,” you say gently, slowly taking your hands from his desperate grasp and standing up. “I know you didn’t mean any harm. I just, um—” you clear your throat, looking at Jaemin with another expression he can’t decipher—but he thinks it comes close to sadness. And something pounds against his ribcage. “I should really get going. My mom, she, uh—”
He doesn’t let you speak any further, knowing that from the way you look, you won’t be able to come up with an excuse. “I’ll walk you home,” he says, moving past Jisung to stand in front of you. Behind him, Jisung is still blubbering apologies. “It’s dark outside.”
“No, it’s—” you take a step back and Jaemin purses his lips at the action. “My brother’s classes just finished, I can call him and ask me to pick him up.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Jaemin,” you say his name with a sliver of caution in your tone. “It’s alright. I’ll see you at school tomorrow?”
You don’t bother to hear his reply as you walk towards the kitchen door. Jaemin sighs, sends a brief glare to Jisung, before following after you as you dial a number on your phone.
“I’ll wait with you,” he offers as you make it to the welcome mat and scan the ground for your shoes. “I can wait with you outside while you wait for your brother.”
Phone to your ear, you turn to Jaemin, face stoic and expressionless before you send him a smile that seems more genuine than any other he’s ever seen before. He thinks he likes it more than the one meant for family portraits and yearbook pictures.
“Okay,” you say quietly. Softly. With a tone that could ease anger, stop thunderstorms, and slow his battering heartbeat.
“Sorry about Jisung,” Jaemin tells you first thing in the morning, sliding beside you on the bench on the school’s front lawn. “He talks too much.”
You murmur something into the fabric of your sweater—something he doesn’t understand but doesn’t bother asking you to repeat—knees pulled to your chest and arms wrapped around yourself as wind blows by. “How do you know him?”
“Cousin,” Jaemin answers, tone mute that it would’ve gotten lost in the breeze if you two weren’t so close. “He goes to the private school a couple blocks from here.”
You nod slowly. “Yeah, Cal told me. I see Jisung sometimes if I bother going to one of the little league soccer games.”
“If I bother,” Jaemin scoffs as he repeats your sentence, except his tone is lighthearted and not at all mocking. “You make it sound like a chore.”
“Those kids are devils!” you lift your face from your arms and are suddenly hit with a gust of wind. You don’t mind it too much, though, because at least now you can turn your face and properly see Jaemin. “They get so aggressive sometimes. The last game I went to, one of them tackled this guy on the other team—”
Jaemin shifts so he’s facing you. “So, you can watch high school football but not a twelve-year-old’s soccer game?”
You kick his thigh. “Don’t make fun of me!”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m not! I’m just saying, you’re scared of the wrong things.”
Your sigh lingers in the air as you hug your knees closer to your chest. The wind is relentless today and the only thing keeping you warm is a thin old sweater. You thought it would be enough to protect you from the cold, especially since yesterday it wasn’t so chilly. From the corner of your eye, you see Jaemin’s fingers curling around his jacket, as if to take it off, before his hand drops on his lap the same way your heart drops to your stomach.
You shake it off.
“So I’ve met your aunt,” you muse. “When do I meet your parents?”
He turns so he’s facing forwards. You don’t spot his smile. “Getting ahead of yourself,” he says, a soft chuckle following after. “I don’t know when you’ll meet them. The next time you're over?”
“Unless Jisung scared you off and now you want to avoid him for the rest of your life,” Jaemin states with a shrug. “Which I completely understand. He’s a nuisance.”
“So are you.”
“It runs in the family.”
A soft laugh slips out before you can even think. It’s not loud and boisterous like your typical one. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you think that if you’re to speak above the wind, it’ll break the bubble you and Jaemin have found yourselves in. There isn’t an ounce of coffee in your blood, and yet you don’t have an urge to bicker with him. Which is a first.
He hasn’t done anything to purposely piss you off either. It’s odd, but you don’t mind.
You jump, arms loosening the grip around your legs as they fall back onto the ground. Jaemin winces, and this time it’s him curling himself up to seem smaller. You glance behind you only to spot a bewildered and annoyed Lee Jeno stumbling towards the pair of you, walking with more purpose than you’ve ever seen.
Immediately noticing the sudden tensity in the air, you meekly greet, “Good morning, Jeno.”
“Y/N,” he says curtly before glaring at his best friend. “Jaemin.” When he doesn’t reply, instead examining his nails, Jeno huffs and turns to you. “Are you guys dating?”
An unpleasant croak falls out as you sputter, “Excuse me?”
“I saw his aunt at the grocery store last night,” he explains, his eyes growing with worry when neither you nor Jaemin don’t deny his accusation. “She was asking me why I never told her that Jaemin’s dating someone. And I thought she was joking at first, until she said that they stopped by the house earlier and—she said you’re the one Jaemin’s dating, but I didn’t believe her. Of course I didn’t believe her. Until I texted Jaemin and he left me on read—”
You reach over and smack the back of Jaemin’s head. “You idiot—”
“Are you guys dating or not?” Jeno asks before his jaw drops and he frantically points to Jaemin. “Are you the one Chanhee was talking about?”
Jaemin’s eyebrows furrow. “What?”
“The rumour!” Jeno replies exasperatedly. “About Y/N going on a date with someone—oh my God, it’s you, it explains why you weren’t speaking while we were talking about it a few days ago!”
“I wasn’t talking because I didn’t care!”
“You say that a lot but you’re always finding a way to insult Y/N—”
“Hey!” you exclaim.
“Are you dating,” Jeno repeats, his eyes moving to you in hopes that you’ll answer him. “Or not?”
You freeze, unable to come up with something to say. You and Jaemin didn’t go over the details for something like this. What are you supposed to do if his best friend asks if you’re dating a boy who hates you? What are you supposed to do if he thinks you are and he tells your friends before he can?
You jolt and spring to your feet. If anyone’s going to fuck this up now, it’s not gonna be you.
“I have to go,” you say suddenly and Jaemin stands once you start walking towards the entrance doors. “I need to—”
“Class doesn’t start for another fifteen,” Jaemin states, his eyes pleading you to do anything but leave him with his friend before class starts. Your heart drops at his desperation. “Where are you going?”
Behind him, Jeno is watching the interaction with exaggerated shock, his jaw slack as he looks at an exchange where Jaemin isn’t blowing up on you and you aren’t blowing up on him.
“I just have to—”
“I’ll walk you.”
Your eyes flitter to Jeno. “Jaemin—”
“I can walk you,” he says again, begging you to take pity on him, just this once, and let him leave Jeno in the dust. A conversation about your relationship can only be avoided for so long, and it’s no doubt that this information will be released today, and you’ll probably be forced to sit through a whole lunch while your friends question you. It would be best to tell Jeno now about whether or not his accusation is true—leaving his question unanswered will only make everything worse.
But you don’t want to. Not now. You and Jaemin will deal with the consequences later.
“Okay,” you reply, smiling at Jaemin. “See you, Jeno.”
As the two of you are walking away, Jeno mumbles, “Oh my God…” to himself and you grimace.
This is not going to end well.
“Nice to see you too, Hyuck.”
“You,” Donghyuck points a finger at your face, wiggling it in front of your nose as he huffs and puffs, face scarlet red, “betraying, untrustworthy, animalistic asshole—!”
Chaewon throws something at him, causing him to yelp and catch the attention of other gossiping students scattered across the field. “Easy now,” she warns and reaches over you to grab her eraser before Donghyuck decides to hold it hostage. “No name-calling before twelve.”
“Then no name-calling.”
It’s warm, a contrast to the chilliness of this morning, and you had been dragged to spend your lunch period with your friends outside in the sun rather than in the preying mouths of the cheerleading team. You’d been told it was because sunshine so illuminating shouldn’t be put to waste, and before autumn is entirely engulfed by winter, every person should soak in its luminescence until the air turns crisp.
But you know it’s because Donghyuck wants to get answers from you before Chaeryeong and Rue do. For a while, they’ve been in an unspoken feud about who knows you better, and neither side is willing to back down. It’s your fault for befriending such competitive people.
And it’s not like you’re complaining—the thought of facing Chanhee annoys you. Nobody would even be talking about this if it weren’t for his big mouth. Although sitting next to Chaewon isn’t much better, since she seems to enjoy your squirming and fidgeting as your lips part and close while you try to answer all of Donghyuck’s persistent questions.
“Out of all people,” he lays down, eyes squeezed shut so the sun doesn’t blind him. He has to force a small grin when the grass tickles his ear. Staying mad at you is hard enough; he says it’s because you just seem so likeable, “out of all people—you pick Na Jaemin. You know he hates you, right?”
“Yeah,” Chaewon narrows her eyes thoughtfully. “I always overheard him blubbering to his friends like an insecure and jealous child. You know he used to say you’re insufferable? You don’t date people who think you’re insufferable, Y/N.”
“Used to,” you rasp. “Feelings change.”
Compared to your friends, your posture is stiff. Chaewon has her legs sprawled out in front of her while one hand keeps her upright and the other fidgets with her favourite pink eraser. Donghyuck lounges on the grass like he’s a king in a ridiculously comfortable bed surrounded by jewels, diamonds, bitter coffee, and anything that could make a guy happy. Your legs, however, are crossed, and your back is alarmingly straight.
Chaewon glances over at you, concerned. “Not that quickly.”
“You don’t know how long we’ve been talking.”
Chaewon frowns deeply. “Still. I don’t trust him. What if he’s dating you only so he can hurt you?”
Donghyuck hums in agreement, which definitely startles you because he doesn’t agree with you or Chaewon about anything. “She has a point. That happens in movies a lot.”
You try not to reach over and flick his forehead. “Good thing this isn’t a movie then.” A loud scoff fills your ears and you’re not sure if it came from either Chaewon or Hyuck. “Can we talk about something else?”
“What?” Donghyuck cries, sitting up at the speed of light and mirroring Chaewon’s position, except he’s turned so he’s facing you. His eyes hold more heat than sun and fire combined, and your blood goes cold. “No way. You do know that you’re dating somebody—who’s a loser, just so you know—”
“Don’t call him that.”
“Chaewon agrees with me.”
“What? He has a point!”
“As I was saying,” Donghyuck clears his throat to catch your attention again and stops an argument before it can even begin, “you’re dating someone that me and Chae don’t know. In fact, we didn’t know this relationship was a thing until Jeno ran his big mouth and basically informed the entire student body.”
Chaewon sighs dramatically. “I heard about this from Yeji. She texted me,” she says, throwing you a look etched with vexation. “Which is embarrassing. How are we supposed to be best friends if you aren’t telling us anything? We keep on having to find out from other people!”
“I swear if something big happens to you and I have to hear it from Chaeryeong, I’m cutting you off,” Donghyuck declares, flopping back on the ground again. “I’m being serious. Do you know what’s worse than you dating Jaemin? Me losing to her.”
Chaewon peers at Donghyuck with a frown. “Lose to her at what?”
“That’s what I’m saying!”
“Shut up, Y/N, we aren’t on the same team this time.”
You huff. “What the hell?”
Absentmindedly twirling a loose thread on her sweater around her finger, Chaewon tilts her head slightly to get a good look at you. “You really should’ve told us about this beforehand,” she says with the typical know-it-all manner she uses whenever she needs to prove a point. “We could’ve talked you out of it.”
Maybe this sentiment would be sweet—albeit a little more frustrating—if you were actually dating Jaemin, but you aren’t, and this conversation would never happen if you hadn’t gotten caught. Or if you hadn’t agreed to this fake dating thing in the first place.
Funny, because you wouldn’t be suffocating right now if it weren’t for Jaemin. Everything always leads back to him.
You admit that you’d rather be fake dating somebody else. It’s not like Jaemin is just as prickly and annoying as he used to be, but if you were fake dating Jeno or Renjun—hell, even Hyuck, it would be so much easier to convince people. But in this arrangement, you get something from Jaemin and he gets something from you.
Your head snaps to Chaewon.
“He promised to help with homecoming stuff,” you say absentmindedly while she’s listing off reasons why you and Jaemin would never work out, Donghyuck chiming in on occasion. At the sound of your statement, though, Chaewon blinks at you, and she shares a look with Hyuck before urging you to continue. “He’s really good at arts and crafts. He can help with banners. And, um, organization, he’s good at that stuff, too. He can help take more things off your plate.”
“Huh,” Chaewon breathes, eyes looking farther away. She’s no doubt imagining a world where she has less to stress out about. Being class president is horrible. You don’t know how she does it.
“No,” Donghyuck grunts as he sits back up. Strands of yellow grass adorn his hair and back and you reach over to dust them off while he chastises your friend, “Chaewon, don’t give in. Jaemin doesn’t even like homecoming.”
Your eyes narrow. “How do you even know that?”
“He never shuts up about it,” he tells you dismissively. “Chae, for all you know, Jaemin could ruin this whole thing.”
“Actually,” you pipe up, “Jaemin didn’t mind when I asked him for help.”
“Uh, because he’s planning on ruining everything!” Donghyuck exclaims, and he throws his hands up in the air just for the dramatic flair. If you had a dime for every time you rolled your eyes whenever Hyuck tainted a conversation with his melodrama and theatrics, you’d be rich enough to drop out of school and not work a day in your life. “And besides, we don’t need Jaemin! The student council has me.”
Chaewon pulls a face. “Exactly why we need more help.”
Your friend turns to look at you, reaching over to take your hands into hers. Her eyes burn with want and need, and you think there may be a part of you—ever so small—that’s thankful you took this arrangement. With Jaemin’s help, you’ll finally see Chaewon with a smile on her face that lasts longer than five minutes. With Jaemin’s help, you’ll repay her after everything she’s done for you, and she’ll be able to stand without a weight sinking on her shoulders.
“He’ll really help?” she asks eagerly.
You give her a genuine smile, because Jaemin has to help out whether he likes it or not. “Yeah,” you say.
She squeezes your hand and drops them before beaming at Donghyuck. “I like him,” she declares, as if her approval was the make or break of you and Jaemin’s relationship. You silently sigh in relief, though, because if she was still wary of Jaemin, it would’ve made things so much harder. “I think this is the first boyfriend of Y/N’s who I actually like!”
“Woah,” you say immediately. “Did you not like Chan?”
“Oh, I forgot you dated him,” Chaewon mumbles, before speaking louder, “Jaemin is the second boyfriend of Y/N’s I like!”
Donghyuck whines, “Chae!”
“If he’s helping out with homecoming then I don’t hate him,” Chaewon shrugs. “Convince Y/N to break up with him yourself.”
Donghyuck groans before taking your hands and pulling you towards him. Your legs skid across the ground, and your legs burn from the heat. Hyuck doesn’t bat an eye, instead placing his hands on your shoulders to keep you from moving and fixing you with a stare that only furthers his intentions of keeping you in place. Something flashes in his eyes—worry, and maybe a little concern.
“I don’t trust him,” he states. “He used to hate you before and who’s saying he still doesn’t?”
You exhale. “Hyuck—”
“I’m serious,” he says firmly. “He’s gonna end up hurting you.”
You frown. “Everything will—”
“Y/N,” he says cautiously, warningly, because he thinks this is the type of thing he’ll be right about. The type of thing where he’ll tell you to listen to him and you won’t, and you’ll end up getting hurt. “Don’t date him.”
“Listen to me,” you murmur softly, and you say it in a way that Donghyuck knows you’ll deny what he’s asking you to do before you get a chance to say it. “You don’t know him as well as I do.”
“You don’t even know him at all.” And he’s right, but you force yourself not to wince.
Telling Hyuck that you can handle yourself will never work; to convince him, you have to show him, which means that once lunch is over, you need to send a quick text to Jaemin about discussing a game plan. All Chaewon has ever done is worry, and when she’s not worrying, Donghyuck is.
And even though you’ll never say it out loud, you need your friends to be okay with this relationship, otherwise it will never work out.
Things would be so much more complicated if you and Jaemin were actually a real thing.
You give Donghyuck a crooked reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine.”
It’s ninth grade, and Jeno has a crush on you.
Well, the word crush is far fetched, because to a fourteen-year-old barely halfway through his first year of high school, it’s love. To any logical adult who’s gone through the lovesick teen phase themselves, it’s infatuation. It’s not a crush, because crushes are usually labelled exactly that when there are symptoms, like sweaty hands and your heartbeat pitter-pattering against your chest, or the nerves dancing around your head and making you dizzy.
This is what Jaemin tries to tell Jeno five minutes before the curtain goes up, but he sounds like a broken record. Convincing his friend that he’s only nervous because tonight is opening night is difficult when said friend is told the person he has a crush on and their boyfriend are here to watch the show. Jeno’s hands are clammy for all the wrong reasons, and if he continues to behave like this, Jaemin’s going to have to ask the understudy to take over.
Except the understudy is sick—a cold, is what Xiaojun said over the phone, followed by an obvious fake cough. Jaemin doesn’t even know how he got to be the understudy.
Renjun is leaning against one of the props, showing no care about what he thinks if things were to go south because the weight of this musical has been on his shoulders for months and he can’t bother to carry it any longer. So, now it’s up to Jaemin to snap Jeno out of it, because everyone and their dog knows that Yangyang would absolutely be no help, since he was the one that broke the news about you and Chan in the first place.
Which is amazing. The owner of the lead’s heart sits in the audience, front and centre, hand in hand with their boyfriend.
You always did like to ruin good things.
“I need a moment.”
“We’re on in five!”
Jeno sends a glare to the stage manager. She doesn’t bat an eye. Freshmen could try all they want to be intimidating but it will just never work out.
Jeno pushes himself farther backstage and Jaemin’s back hits one of the sets while he screws his eyes shut. Yangyang shoves his hands into his pockets and clicks his tongue. “Why does he act like he’s in love with them?”
Renjun scoffs, except he’s smiling, just a bit. “Because he is.”
“You can’t love someone you don’t know,” Yangyang quips, his eyes following Jeno’s movements as he skirts past his castmates and people part of the crew. “I know you guys have all known each other since kindergarten—because you’re lame like that. I thought those things only happened in movies—but I feel like I know Y/N better than he does.”
Jaemin rolls his eyes. “Make sure he doesn’t hear you say that,” he grunts, before snapping his head up to the other boy. “Wait, how do you even know Y/N?”
“We have science together. We were lab partners once for a class. They’re not so bad. I don’t know why you hate them so much.” Jaemin sneers but he doesn’t bother replying because Yangyang keeps talking. “I found out whether they’re a cat or dog person, and what their take is on the subtitles or no subtitles debate in less than ten minutes. We failed that lab, by the way.”
Jaemin heaves a sigh. “What’s your point, Yangyang?”
He shrugs. “I know all of this and Jeno only knows that they’re a cheerleader and their favourite colour is yellow—well, not anymore. Things change after six years. Typically, people aren’t the same people they were when they were eight,” he walks slowly to the curtain and peeks out from the side to look at the turnout. “The Y/N Jeno knows is eight-year-old Y/N. He shouldn’t be nervous.”
“But he is.”
“He’s nervous because he’s painted an idea of someone he hasn’t talked to in years and told himself he has a crush on them,” says Yangyang, turning to look back at them. “Tell Jeno that, and maybe he’ll pull himself together.”
Jaemin huffs. “What?”
Yangyang sighs, a little exasperated, but he asks, “What ice cream flavour does Jeno hate?”
“Chocolate,” Jaemin says quickly, like a reflex. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Y/N’s favourite flavour is chocolate,” Yangyang grins. “They also like dogs better than cats, so tell Jeno that, and say something about them believing all of those cat stereotypes, or whatever. You know how dog people are. It’s small, but it’ll help Jeno realize that Y/N is a real person and not a figment of his imagination. And then he can go out on that stage and be fine.”
Renjun glances between the two of them before shrugging and mumbling something about going to talk to their friend. Jaemin goes to follow, before Yangyang adds, teasing with a hint of seriousness Jaemin is not used to, “They’re not perfect, but they’re not bad, Jaem,” he states, as if saying so will distinguish the fire of hatred Jaemin has for you. “You should give them a chance.”
It’s tenth grade, and everyone has a crush on you. And you’re using it to your advantage.
Which—okay, Jaemin will say this once—good for you. Using the love everyone has for you as a business tactic is smart, maybe a little unethical and manipulative, but how else is this fundraising bake sale supposed to thrive? According to Yangyang, half of the cheerleading team can’t even make a simple batch of cookies without risking setting their kitchen ablaze, which is why most of these baked delights came in a box from Walmart.
Jaemin stands in line with two dollars in his hand so he can buy himself two sugar cookies—it’s a guilty pleasure, and who was he to resist sugar cookies? Jaemin may be moody sometimes, but he’s not a monster. Behind him is Jeno. Apparently, he wants to support a friend, although Jaemin suspects Jeno just wants to see you.
You and Jeno are attached to the hip. Kind of. If being attached to the hip during one class of a day counts. Jaemin thinks it doesn’t, but he says nothing about it. Some things are better left unsaid.
“What should I get?” Jeno asks, pressing his toes into the ground as he tries to get a glimpse; whether of you or the brownies Renjun claims he bought from the grocery store last week, Jaemin doesn’t know, and he won’t ask. “I want the lemon bars, but seeing as the past three people walked off with some, I should probably think of getting something else—why are there so many people?”
The answer to Jeno’s question comes in the form of Kim Chaewon and Lee Donghyuck, who stand by the edge of the table and converse with one of the cheerleaders. Dreams of a good turnout come true when it involves good advertising and the student council. Jaemin thinks those two would be very powerful people when they grow older.
Doesn’t make him dislike them any less.
Jaemin feels like he’s been standing in this line for an eternity when he finally gets to the front, greeted by your beaming face before Jeno steps in front of him and starts asking for three lemon bars and a brownie. Jaemin scowls but moves to talk to someone else.
“Jaemin!” Chaeryeong exclaims in surprise. “I didn’t know you were here!”
Chaeryeong is one of the newer employees at Nova Crunch, but he already considers her one of his favourite co-workers. He’s never seen her like this before, though, in an environment where she isn’t wearing a polo shirt and an apron with a scoop in one hand and a cone in the other. Instead, Chaeryeong is wearing a cheerleading uniform, adorned with DIYed stickers of pom-poms and the school’s mascot.
“I didn’t know you were…” Jaemin trails off while she raises her eyebrows. “I didn’t know you were a cheerleader?”
“Maybe you would’ve if you actually came to a football game,” she shrugs innocently. She’s been trying to convince him to go to one upon finding out he’s not a big sports fan. She isn’t one either, but Chaeryeong likes to lecture anyone who’ll listen about how the experience of high school sports is more important than the game itself.
He scrunches his nose. “Ha. Very funny. Two sugar cookies please.”
“You’re a loser,” Chaeryeong retorts lightheartedly before carefully placing two sugar cookies onto a napkin. “Oh, by the way, do you work tomorrow? I was wondering if you could take my shift.”
“I can,” Jaemin responds without hesitation. It’s not like he has any plans for tomorrow, anyway, so he might as well make some money. “This is the third time you’ve asked for someone to take your shift, though. Are you okay?”
“What? Oh, yeah,” Chaeryeong waves her hand in the air with dismissal. “There’s just been a lot of cheer practice recently because of homecoming—you know how coach is—” Jaemin actually doesn’t, but he nods along nevertheless. “—and I can’t miss these practices. I still have to talk to your uncle about it, but I’m terrified.”
“He’ll understand,” Jaemin says. “Jerry never shuts up about how important homecoming was to him back when he went to school.”
“It is important. I don’t understand why you won’t go.”
“I just won’t,” he answers. “And I have to go over my lines for the musical.”
Chaeryeong groans. “Oh, come on, that isn’t for a few more months.”
Jaemin makes a face, mockingly repeats her words, before she laughs and pushes him towards the boy collecting money. Jeno is standing to the side, having already paid, and is taking a bite from his lemon bar.
“Excuse me!” Jaemin halts, almost dropping his handful of sugar cookies, before he turns to huff at the person who startled him. Except his expression melts upon spotting your smile. “Hi! Sorry, I was just wondering if you wanted a muffin?”
“Um, I only have two dollars and I’m using them to buy sugar cookies,” Jaemin tries to say monotonously, but it sounds like his throat has been clogged.
Your smile turns pleading and it startles Jaemin more than your voice, because he’s sure he has never seen you beg before. “Come on, please? You don’t have to pay for it, just tell Hyunjin that I gave it to you for free, he’ll understand. Chanhee baked these and he’s gonna feel bad if they don’t sell,” you explain. “I don’t even know what he was thinking. Carrot muffins? Makes me feel sick.”
Jaemin shakes his head. “I really don’t—”
“You don’t even have to eat them! Just dump it in the trash, but make sure you cover it up before you do, so he doesn’t see. Please?” When he doesn’t reply, only blinking while he wraps his head around the situation, you sigh before digging into your pocket and placing a coupon into his empty palm. “Here, it’s a coupon. Free vanilla ice cream from Nova Crunch. Their stuff is good. Can you take the muffin now?”
This coupon means nothing to Jaemin. He’s the nephew of the owner, he doesn’t have to pay for ice cream—he still does, though, because it sort of eats away at his consciousness if he doesn’t.
Still, he nods begrudgingly and accepts the muffin you place in his hands. “Thank you so much!” you say before talking to the next customer and Jaemin is forced to move up the line.
When he makes it back to Jeno, his friend stares at him with a judgemental look on his face. “You talked to them,” he murmurs. “You talked to Y/N.”
“Yeah, I know, I was there.”
“You talked and you didn’t cause an argument.”
“Who do you take me for, Jeno?”
“This is just surprising, okay?” he says, his head quivering with laughter. “You looked so surprised when they started to talk to you. What did I tell you—they’re nice, right?”
It’s less than a week until the wedding, and Jaemin thinks he understands why everyone seems to be at your feet.
He’s been spending every waking moment of his Saturday turning his kitchen into a Food Network set. Honey sticks to his fingers and flour is smeared on his cheeks because he promised his Aunt Eunbin—hesitantly, and as if he had a choice—that he would bake desserts for the wedding, and he’d been putting it off until his Uncle Jerry reminded him about it during his shift last night.
He’s been spending every waking moment of his Saturday baking until he’s knee deep in sugar while you’ve spent every waking moment of yours fulfilling your promise and taking things off his plate.
Jaemin doesn’t know how to make food look pretty, but you clearly do. You’ve never been much of a baker, but you can make cakes look like masterpieces, and he thinks a weight had been lifted off his chest when he realized that you could do the thing for him he’s never been good at.
“Taste this,” he says, tossing a small piece of a freshly baked cookie towards you moments after you’ve finished icing a cupcake.
“What the hell?” you hiss after swatting the cookie away. It lands on the floor, and Jaemin supposes he’ll deal with that later when his parents come home and tell him to clean up. “If you threw that one second earlier, I would’ve ruined my work!”
“It’s a decoy cupcake, Y/N.”
You pout. “It still needs to look pretty.”
Jaemin rolls his eyes and throws the other half of the cookie. “Taste it and tell me it’s good.”
Dropping the cookie by your side and picking up your piping bag instead, you grin at him. “It’s good!” then you gesture towards the display of cupcakes you’ve been meticulously decorating for the past half an hour. “Now compliment me—seriously, this belongs in the Louvre.”
“You didn’t even try the cookie!”
“Chanhee says you’re a good baker and I believe him,” you reply. “Besides, what if you poisoned it? Don’t look at me like that.”
“Why would I poison you?”
“Because you hate me? Hello?”
There’s a sliver of hesitance. It’s quick, fast, disappears in the blink of an eye, and you wouldn’t catch it even if you were paying attention, because you aren’t an observant person. Jaemin pauses before he retorts, and he can’t think of a reason why other than what Yangyang told him during opening night when Jeno ran off because the nerves were eating him up.
Jeno had a crush on someone he created in his head, like how Jaemin hated somebody he thought he understood. And while Jeno tried to get to know you before realizing all he’ll ever really see you as is as a friend, Jaemin didn’t. Because who has ever tried to get to know the person they hate?
Nobody has ever done that. But maybe he should try.
“Can I ask you a question?” he reaches over to grab the melted strawberry ice cream he scooped into a cup nearly an hour ago, and listens to the noise of acknowledgement you make while you start to ice the other cupcakes. “You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to.”
You barely blink while saying, “Should I be concerned?”
“No,” he responds, although he’s sure you probably should be. He waits a few beats, trying to gather the courage to ask you a question he shouldn’t be asking, before he licks his lips and clears his throat. “Why’d you act weird when Jisung brought up your parents?”
You freeze, hands clenching around the piping bag, accidentally squeezing more icing on one side of the cupcake than you intended. Jaemin grimaces when you look up at him. “Where is this coming from?”
“Nowhere,” he says softly, and you almost scowl at the pity on his face because he looks at you like he already knows where this story goes. And he does, for the most part, but that doesn’t mean you hate it any less. “I was just curious, but you don’t have to…”
“Right,” you say, then plop yourself onto a stool with your legs facing the other way so you don’t have to meet his eye. Sarcastically, you begin, “Well, once upon a time—”
“Y/N,” Jaemin murmurs, tilting his head so he can try to match your gaze. “You don’t have to answer.”
“Then why did you ask?”
“Because I want to know,” he says, and after you throw him a skeptical glance, he quickly adds, “and I think it’s important for this whole... arrangement. But it’s not mandatory for you to tell me, honestly...”
You gulp before carefully placing the piping bag down. “Okay.”
“I’ll tell you. But it’s nothing much,” you sigh, shrugging a shoulder like you’re shrugging the situation off. Like it’s not a big deal, and Jaemin feels guilt blooming in the pit of his stomach. “Uh, Mom and Dad fought a lot. They weren’t happy, fallen out of love, or whatever. One time Cal was going to ask them to get a divorce because he was tired of coming home everyday to them shouting, but I convinced him not to. Divorces tear families apart, and I didn’t—I was scared.”
You clear your throat after it dries up. Jaemin wants to move closer, but it’s like his body has rooted him on the floor.
“During the divorce, though, they fought more. Custody. They yelled at each other a lot for that one. Dad was hellbent on getting me and Cal to move with him across the country but Mom always argued that she didn’t want her kids near a liar,” you click your tongue. “Dad was a liar. He made empty promises all the time. But he came close to winning. Tenth grade and my room was packed into boxes and Cal was looking at colleges he didn’t even want to go to.
And then Dad met someone. Love at first sight, or some other bullshit that only happens in movies. It was stupid. But he saw this opportunity, I guess, to start anew. Clean slate; new city, new house, new soulmate, new life. He calls sometimes, and Cal tries to get me to talk to him every other Sunday, but…”
Jaemin’s lips part. “Jeno told me you were supposed to move last year.”
Your teeth dig into your lips. “Because of Dad. Yeah,” you sigh, and your voice shakes and wavers and Jaemin is disobeying his body before he knows it. He moves to sit beside you. He doesn’t hug you—he’s never known how to properly comfort people—but his presence is peaceful. It calms. “I’m glad I didn’t move, though. I like it here.”
I’m glad you didn’t move either doesn’t seem like the right thing to say. It feels insincere, if it came from him, so he reaches over and squeezes your shoulder.
“Your cupcakes look nice,” he says. You look up at him but he’s only staring at you.
“Did you even look at them?”
He smiles. “They’re pretty, Y/N. Take the compliment.”
You snort before reaching over and playfully shoving him.
Perhaps Yangyang was right, to some extent. But Jaemin will never say that out loud. It feeds Yangyang’s ego and destroys Jaemin’s.
Give them a chance.
Maybe you aren’t so bad after all.
yn nation!!! (derogatory)
you sent an image!
[3:37 p.m] you: aren’t these so pretty
[3:40 p.m] yn superfan: they look like they could go on pinterest
[3:45 p.m] yn superfan: wait did you make those?
[3:45 p.m] yn superfan: THEY’RE HIDEOUS 🗣🗣
[3:46 p.m] you: thanks hyuck 💞💞
[3:46 p.m] yn superfan: I SAID THEY’RE UGLY
[3:48 p.m] pr manager: you’re BAKING?
[3:48 p.m] pr manager: holy shit did you burn something? i’m having a heart attack are you safe
[3:49 p.m] pr manager: CALL THE FIRE DEPARTMENT
[3:49 p.m] you: NO???
[3:49 p.m] you: why do u have no faith in me chaewon.
[3:49 p.m] pr manager: because you cant bake
[3:50 p.m] you: 😒 well i didn’t bake these it was jaemin i only iced them
[3:50 p.m] yn superfan: UR AT JAEMINS???
[3:50 p.m] you: omg no need to be jealous hyuck 😣
[3:51 p.m] yn superfan: im literally sick to my stomach
[3:51 p.m] yn superfan: HE’S DANGEROUS STAY AWAY FROM HIM!!!
you sent an image!
[3:52 p.m] you: aaahh teen boy covered in flour i’m so scared!!!
[3:54 p.m] yn superfan: they’re being domestic
[3:54 p.m] yn superfan: i think today might be the worst day of my life
[3:58 p.m] pr manager: you’re so annoying
[4:01 p.m] pr manager: give me some cupcakes tho
[4:01 p.m] yn superfan: me too
[4:01 p.m] yn superfan: oh btw im gonna tell chaeryeong and rue about this
[4:10 p.m] you: NO THEY’LL NEVER SHUT UP ABOUT IT
[4:10 p.m] you: DONGHYUCK
★ author’s note: hi 🤓 jaemin is slowly coming to his senses and you know what!!! good for him!!!! it was long overdue and his grudge lasted 3 years but still!! proud of him <3
★ tags: @lanadreamie @sunflowerhae @juyeo-on @t-toodumbtocare
© all rights reserved dkfile, 2021.
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taglist: @daisychainsinknots @pandora-artx @itsbrittbrattt @ancientowlgirl @crazytxgradstudent @miss-nori85 @stefanovalentini1985 @blogforhoes
Ch1 . Ch2 . Ch3 . Ch4 . Ch5 . Ch6 . Ch7 . Ch8 . Ch9 . Ch10 . Ch11 . Ch12
****notes: I know this is just Bi-Han POV of things we have somewhat already seen, BUT, I had a lot to get done today and didn’t want to just not upload at all, and I’ve had several mentions of people wanting Bi-Han POV anyway. So, here you go! I’ll have more story-line up tomorrow, but let me know, do you want to see more Bi-Han POV?****
Something feels… wrong. An agitation brewing within me, like something scratching at the back of my skull that I cannot quite place, nor quell.
It refuses to pass, only growing stronger in the passing seconds as I shake my head to focus on the task at hand.
Shang Tsung expects results, and my … arrangement… with him has continued to be mutually beneficial thus far, both to his plan and the wishes of the Lin Kuei. My duties must take priority in my own mind but… even as I say this, I feel my jaw clench of its own accord.
I let out a slow exhale, closing my eyes briefly to recenter myself.
Her face flashes across my vision, usually a source of calm for me, however, it suddenly becomes painfully obvious…
The bond… she has allowed it to grow, become stronger, deeper, connecting us further.
This agitation, burning into the beginnings of rage tickling beneath my skin like an itch that I cannot quite scratch… it is not my own, but hers.
I stand hastily, forgetting all else in the wake of my revelation to seek out her location.
She is in the temple, of course, however I have no way of entering anywhere of use other than the open half of her chambers. Which … proves to be less than useful, as the moment I step through the shadows, I find the room to be empty.
My own agitation growing, coupling with hers, mixing with impatience as I helplessly pace back and forth, unable to keep from staring at the door – willing her to walk through it…
Something stirs, an awakening force somewhere in the depths of my chest, the anger increasing but this is… more than that.
I unclench my fists, not even remembering when I had done so, removing my mask and tossing it to the table unceremoniously before letting out a deep exhale that is much too akin to a groan of annoyance than I would care to admit.
I do not like this.
The uncertainty of it all; my emotions running so near the surface, uncontrolled as I pace with nothing to do but wait. I cannot reach her…
To feel so helpless is… not something I am used to, nor do I ever want to be used to it.
My teeth begin to ache, reminding me to relax my jaw as I hastily undo my top layer of armor, allowing it to drop to the floor before I clasp my hands behind my back and continue pacing. The movement does nothing to help, of course, but it is the only thing that I can do other than stare desperately at the door – which has still remained closed.
This barrier, shimmering along the edges, proving to be more of a problem than I had ever considered. A problem to be further examined… a solution would need to be found, and soon.
I will have to speak with Shang –
She slams it shut behind her, pressing her forehead against the wood with a sigh.
I rush forward, getting as close as the barrier allows, “My love…” I call out to her, not wanting to startle her, but needing to see her, to know she is unharmed, “are you alright? I could feel something was wrong… I had no way to get to you within the barrier.”
“No,” she mumbles, her voice cracking as she turns to press her back against the door, sliding down into a crumpled sitting position to hide her face in her hands.
I can feel the mixed emotions rolling off of her in waves, my own helplessness increasing, “what is wrong? my love… please, speak to me. Are you hurt?”
“I’m not hurt,” she drops her hands, letting out a strange laugh as her lip trembles, meeting my eyes for only a brief moment where I swear that I could see… no… it must have been a trick of the light… “I had a long talk with Jax today.”
My own body seems to deflate, an ache settling in my chest, “and now you are wary of me again… yes?”
“No,” she mutters, shaking her head with a small sniffle as she wipes away a single tear that dare slide down her beautiful cheek, the ache in my chest deepening, “I’m wary of myself if anything.”
“My love… please…” I cannot help but to glare at the shimmering wall separating us, my own anger flaring again as the pain in my chest grows, “please, just… tell me what is wrong. I can feel it on you, I felt it from another realm entirely.”
“I guess the bond’s getting stronger then?” She mumbles, still keeping her eyes cast away.
“Yes,” I try to occupy myself once more through pacing, “though, I had believed this to be a good thing. Is it not?”
“I don’t know,” she stands, the sound of her shuffling instantly drawing my attention as I lengthen my gait, taking a large stride to again stand as close as the barrier allows, “maybe it is, maybe it isn’t…”
“Did Jax’s words have that much impact?” I attempt to steady my voice with a calming breath, not liking the unevenness of it, the pain now radiating up into my throat, “do you view me so differently now, that you do not even wish to look at me?…”
She wipes her hand over her cheek, and I swallow thickly against the growing ache, my heart nearly skipping a beat entirely as she steps through the barrier.
I want to give her time, allow her to come to me first, but I cannot help myself… my hands instantaneously find her face, pressing a kiss to her forehead, then her cheek before I am able to wipe away the new tears sliding down over her skin.
“My love…” my voice is barely a whisper, feeling my throat tighten, “please look at me…”
Her eyes finally rise to meet mine, the icy blue I had thought to be a mistake… clearly having replaced the natural coloring of her eyes – not unlike my own. Though, mine had taken centuries to become permanent, for hers to manifest like this …
My lips part in an unintentional exhale, the edges turning up in a grin as I cannot contain my own excitement, “my love, this is your concern?”
She gives a soft nod, another tear escaping as she attempts to look away.
I brush my thumb to wipe away the tears once again, “this is great news,” my lips press against her cheek, wrapping my arms around her to finally hold her close, “your arcana has manifested, my love, and the bond, or your lineage, has given you an amazing gift. One that I will be able to help you harness; if you wish.”
Warmth settles in, the ache of my chest replaced with a light, airy feeling that brings a smile to my face. She relaxes into my embrace, her arms sliding up around the back of my neck as she pulls me in tighter, coaxing a small laugh from me as I am all too happy to feel her body flush against mine.
Her heart syncing with my own, her breath slowing to a steady rhythm, lulling me to my sense of comfort and… making me feel at home. Something I have not experienced in a very long time – though, I cannot remember if I ever experienced a true feeling of home… not before her.
“My love… I am glad you are feeling better,” with a few kisses to the side of her head, I pull back enough to again meet her eyes, seeing them natural once more, “your color has even returned, love, and I can feel your calm. I could feel your frustration, and admittedly have never felt so… helpless… before… It is not a feeling I would like to relive.”
“I’m sorry,” she wipes her hand over her eyes again, “I just got overwhelmed, and then Joe-“
My entire body stiffens briefly, “is that where the anger stemmed?”
She nods with an annoyed sigh, “yeah, he said some stuff and I just couldn’t … I couldn’t sit there and listen to it anymore. I wanted to punch him so bad, but then everything just got so cold. He actually thought you were there somehow, he kinda freaked out.”
I allow a chuckle to part my lips, but the amused grin that accompanies is something I cannot contain, feeling it stretch across my face, “he is afraid of me then?”
“You could say that,” she smiles softly in return, my heart lurching and face warming every time her beautiful face is graced with the flawless curl of those gorgeous lips, “not necessarily a good thing though, babe.”
My smile only grows, unable to breathe as the room seems to fade from around us. Nothing else matters as I grab her face, pulling her in to press my lips to hers.
I will never grow tired, nor even used to the feeling of her returning my kiss… the way her soft lips meld so perfectly against mine, so gentle and yet hungry, igniting fires and yet quelling the chill within me.
She both steadies and stirs me at the same time…
“What was that for?” she whispers, her lips still brushing along mine.
With a soft chuckle I bring my other hand to hold her face, my eyes searching hers, feeling my chest fill with warmth, “do you not realize what you called me, my love?”
Ch14 . Ch15
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The Angel on Your Shoulder and the Devil in Your Corner || jjk (Part 4)
➥Content Warnings: some cursing, mentions of pain
A/N: this is pretty much just from demon Kook’s POV this time! And a little bit of Namjoon’s, too.
⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰
Forever being the sweet angel that he is (both figuratively and literally), Namjoon knocked on Kook’s door to announce his presence. He could easily teleport inside, but manners came first in his book. When he got no answer, he sighed and prepared to shout.
“Kook, it’s me, open up!” He accentuated his words with more knocking, yet he was still rewarded with no sound coming from the opposite side of the door. Not even any small instance of stirring could be heard, and Namjoon had excellent hearing so he would’ve picked up on it if it happened.
Namjoon shook his head, getting read to teleport since there was no other way for him to enter the apartment. If Kook truly didn’t want him there, he’d leave, but he was worried about his friend ever since those cryptic texts earlier.
After a few seconds he found himself inside Kook’s bedroom, his eyes searching for his friend until he saw a bundle of blankets on the bed. He sighed and walked forward, standing near the edge of the bed.
“Kook,” he called out; the way the bundle flinched didn’t go unnoticed. “Don’t worry, it’s only me. I came to check up on you.”
“Joonie?” A small voice emerged from the cocoon, and at last Namjoon breathed easier.
“Yes, Kook. Your texts had me concerned.” He sat down on the edge of the bed now, watching as Kook shifted underneath his blanket fort. “Do you wanna talk about it?”
“Sure, I guess. I’m just dying, no big deal or anything.” Kook’s voice was still muffled but Joon could hear it clear as day, rolling his eyes at Kook’s dramatics.
“You’re not dying-”
“How would you know,” Kook was quick to challenge, finally poking his head out of the blankets. Joon gulped at the sight of him: he looked a little worse for wear, very pale compared to his normal golden complexion, and he was sweating like he might’ve had a fever.
Yeah, that definitely wasn’t normal.
“Kook, are you cold?” If he did have a fever, and he was facing chills, then that would explain the mountain of blankets.
Kook shook his head, tightening the blankets around him. “No. I just figured this could comfort me, maybe make me feel protected from whatever force of the universe is fucking with me.”
Joon offered him a reassuring smile. Despite all of Kook’s usual crazy demon antics, he was still the same as everyone else deep down: vulnerable when it called for it. His vulnerability was a rare sight to see, however, so whenever it reared its head, it was definitely alarming.
“Alright, start from the top: what exactly is going on?”
Kook groaned with frustration. “Honestly, I don’t know, I’m just in a lot of pain and I’ve never felt like this before. It feels like something is waging a war inside my stomach.”
“When did this start?”
Kook’s expression was thoughtful. “It was shortly after I talked to my brother…he was feeling unwell, so I went to go check up on him. On my way there, this shit just hit me outta nowhere. I thought coming back home might fix things because y’know, demon powers and all that. But it hasn’t gone away and I’m worried.”
Joon tapped his chin, deep in thought, not missing the way Kook’s lower lip jutted outward. Seeing him pout was a rare sight, but Joon didn’t dare tease him about it right now, not when he was feeling the way he was.
“So JK also feels sick?”
Kook nodded. “I don’t know if it’s in the same way I do, but with how it sounded it seems pretty bad. I haven’t spoken to him since, and it’s been a few hours.”
“Do you think it has anything to do with your twin connection?”
Kook’s eyes widened. “Wait. Shit. You might be right. I swear if that’s the reason, I’m gonna make him pay-”
Joon chuckled. “No, you won’t. You love him too much for that.”
“Dude, shhh,” Kook brought his index finger to his lips, trying to silence his friend. “Not so loud, alright. You never know who’s listening.”
Joon hummed, turning more so he was facing Kook now. Kook seemed a little more at ease with someone else around him, but not enough to forget the pain that was still coursing through him with each passing second.
“Maybe you should contact him again? See if anything’s changed?” As it always was, Joon was quick to think of any and every possible solution to whatever problem had currently presented itself.
“That’s…not a bad idea actually, let me text him.” Kook pulled out his phone and Joon shimmied closer so he could see for himself.
⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰
⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰
Kook was off the bed in a matter of seconds, the blankets all but forgotten now in a pool on the floor. Joon scrambled to follow him.
“Hey, wait, where are you going-”
“You saw the messages,” Kook answered in a rush, hurrying to put on his jacket again. “I need to go find whoever that girl is.”
Joon heart warmed at Kook’s compassion. “Ah, I see, so you can help your brother. That’s sweet-”
Kook scoffed, pocketing his wallet and other essentials. “Well yeah but I also want to because if she can get rid of his pain then she can probably get rid of mine. Twin connection, right?”
Joon groaned in frustration this time as he ran a hand down his face. “I knew it. Always with the ulterior motives.”
Kook grinned. “What can I say? All part of my demonic charm.”
Joon shook his head but failed to hide the amused smile that was slowly creeping up on his face. “Fair enough. Well, let’s go.”
Kook paused at the door, looking back at his friend in confusion. “What do you mean ‘let’s go,’ I can do this on my own.”
Joon patted him on the shoulder. “I know. And that’s what worries me. Someone needs to be around to keep you out of trouble.”
This response elicited a very dramatic eye roll from the blonde demon. “Fiiiiine, I guess you can tag along. But leave everything to me, I don’t want you interfering with my work.”
Joon didn’t bother arguing, just happy to see his friend in happier spirits and more like his old self. Which, in and of itself could be challenging some days, but he was here to support him every step of the way.
Joon was an angel, after all.
⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰
⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰
Part 4: Purely Chaotic
You never anticipated on having anything other than a friendly relationship with beings of the supernatural type…until one day an angel saves your life, and then a demon shows up on your doorstep. And when twin entities start vying for your affection, you’re not quite sure how to handle it. One thing is for certain, though: there’s never a dull moment in your life anymore.
A/N (again): ok so I know the whole ‘calling’ thing is kinda confusing, but it will be explained later, don’t worry!
Currently there isn’t any kind of update schedule but I’d like to do weekly updates if possible; I do work full time and attend grad school so finding time to write can be a little hard but I’m really excited to work on this! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy it; and if you’d like to be added to the taglist, please let me know~
taglist: @dntaewithluv @inlovewiththemoonn @girlontheblock @mwitsmejk @jkslachimolala
➥Part 5 (coming soon!)
➥All Works Masterlist
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Goodmorning, dollface (dabi x reader)
type : (angst/fluff) || 2nd POV
a/n : by far the most cringy I've written (◔‿◔) also the fact that i have to translate things back and forth is ughh! (• ▽ •;)
(ヘ･_･)ヘ part two bc u lots liked it so here!
“a hero would sacrifice you to save the world, but a villain would sacrifice the world to save you.” —inspiration.
You lay atop of your lover, finger creating circles around his chest while he lay half asleep, running his hand up and down your back every once in a while. This is one of the things you've rarely experience, considering that villains have bounties on their head.
Snuggling further, you let out a satisfied sigh. Hand snaking around his torso to come even further, "Hmmm, (y/n)" he called, patting your bum lightly as you hum in response. "Goodmorning, Dollface." His slightly hoarse voice made you giggle slightly, shifting on your position and draping a leg over him.
"Goodmorning to you too."
"The gangs and I will have a raid later, you'll need to stay in the house 'til I come back." It's not everyday that Dabi tells you to stay hidden inside your comfortable abode, the reason is probably because the raid is near your place. You're aware that you can't nor does Dabi can stop he and his gangs to steal near you.
No one knows your relationship after all. It is hidden.
"Okay, stay safe then." You sigh through your nose, fluttering your eyes close. Relishing moments like this are one of your favorites. You didn't know how you managed to fell in love with a villain, but you just did. Although you were unaware of the fact that he is one in the first place.
Dabi let out a sound that is between a laugh and a scoff, "Sure, will do, not like I'll get harmed anyway."
"Alright, alright." As much as you wanted to stay in bed cuddling, it seems that your usual lazy lover decided to go and eat breakfast now, of course, with you.
Dabi lifted you by the back of your knee and middle of your back, laughing to himself when he heard your squeal of surprise. "Fuck, you're so breathtaking even if you just woke up." You smack his chest with an embarrassed smile on your feature.
"Stop kiddin' around."
"Do I look like I'm fucking kidding?" Upon his question, he held a serious face, eyebrow raised before delivering a a peck on the nose that had you giggling.
"Thank you then, babe."
"Mhmm, you better be."
A snort fell off your lips, slapping him by the chest once again but this time, initiating a kiss on the cheek. "Now put me down, I gotta' make breakfast." He did so, taking your hand and pressing a soft kiss on the ring he had given you.
Like Dabi has mentioned before, him and the gang he currently belongs to, raided some shop near your place while you stayed safe at home. After creating a ruckus and staying outside for an hour or so, waiting for the whole chaos to die down. Dabi is now ready to go back to your shared place with abundance of store bought food thanks to the raid.
He expected the house to be on with light, expecting you to be on the kitchen making some dinner or watching the television or scrolling through the internet on the couch, but what greeted him was the fact that the house was in a mess.
"What the fuck?" Dropping the plastic bags on the doorstep, Dabi raced to the kitchen, living room, bedroom, heck, even the bathroom and balcony. But you were nowhere in the house.
Dabi even remembered telling you to stay in the house. "Oi (y/n), come out now, this isn't funny." His brows were furrowed, worry seeping inside him, what happened to you? Are you alright? Why is the house a mess?
He cursed to himself, slumping on the floor to calm himself down, until his foot hit something cold and small, looking down to see the ring he had presented to you by the start of your and his relationship. Dabi picked it up, looking at it like a cassette tape.
Like it will give him any clue or something.
Alas, there was none, that was until he heard sirens, police sirens that should've been gone for long now. His eyes widen, scrambling to his feet and exiting the house as soon as he heard the cars halt in front.
They barge inside, searching, looking for something or someone. "Are you sure he's gonna come back? By the looks of it, it looks like the video was a coincidence."
"Pretty sure not, that person is sure in a relationship with that filthy villain." What is this? Dabi narrowed his eyes, listening as much as he can to the officers that remained outside. "Hmm, well, if they found something of that man being inside then they're going to spend a few years in prison."
Hearing this, Dabi was sure that they meant his beloved, learning that they'll be in prison, Dabi is furious. Eyes in blaze at the thought of his dollface being interrogated and hurt in the hands of the police, even worst, a hero.
Dabi is raging in wrath, letting his quirk out of control. Screw the police, screw the house, what he only need is his beloved (y/n). Screams of panic and agony fill the air along with the sparks of fire. The smoke concealing him before them.
"Fucking piece of shits." He'd exchange hundreds of lives, as long as he will get his beloved safe and sound in his arms. Emotions controlling his actions, mind clouded, everything is now out of his control.
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Genesis- Chapter 12
A/N: LOOK AT HIM HE'S SO HAPPY IMMA CRY
I woke up to the sound of cluttering and hushed voiced, it was the sound James Barnes which me up.
“Good morning Bucky.” I smiled at him trying to award the awkwardness, it’s the aftermath of my confident moment.
“’morning Nes.” I bit my lip at the nickname and chuckled.
Oh Christ on cracker.
“Uh James?” I called out the heat rushing to my face faster than Peter answering my texts…it was pretty fast.
I could feel something poke my thigh, and it didn’t take a genius to realize what was happening. “Please stop that.” I complained unable to move.
“I’m not doing anything?” he tilted his head at me, I choked out a laugh.
“A part of you is doing something.” I groaned when his face filled with realization.
“Oh- I um, sorry I-” he started stuttering, I immediately got off of him.
“I gotta help in the engine room, you’ll can find me there after you um freshen up…” I choked out, walking away.
I hate myself.
“Push the stopper.” I hear Sam say over the music playing from my phone, I turned around to see James. Shoot, I turned back to loosen the bolts.
What am I supposed to do? I was on top of his hard ass dick, find me on the bottom of the ocean.
“Hey, those ones.” I pointed at the bolts which I didn’t loosen. And we started working in silence.
Let me do this, let me do this now, and just…
“Dance with me.” I turned to him once the song changed to a slower one compared to the rock music playing before. He smirked and took my hand and bowed down, I laughed at him for being dramatic.
He wrapped his arms around my waist while mine wrapped around his neck, we were just swaying, and it meant so much.
“You’re quite the dancer Mr. Loverman” I mumbled, burying my head into his shoulder as we swayed to the music in the darkness of the engine. It wasn’t long before he completely pulled me into him, making me hug him closer than ever.
This was really happening.
I was dancing with James Barnes.
I was really gonna do this.
“I didn’t hate you” oh shit, abort mission. No grow a pair bitch. “I never did, I was scared.” he started to talk, I didn’t want to mess this up “no just, hear me out.” I stopped him. “I- when I started getting to know you, I had this feeling I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from getting closer cause you gave me the comfort I craved, I thought I’ll start needing you, I got scared, I panicked and I shut you out. I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry, and then I realized that I have feelings for me, I kind of slapped myself into not feeling.” I chuckled “don’t worry, I do that a lot, and I made up this whole persona of Hating you because I thought if I did that I’ll stop loving you, I didn’t. That shit didn’t work at all. So yeah, I know that was shitty.” I finally took a breath.
He didn’t say anything.
Bottom of the Pacific Ocean here I come.
He just held my face and pressed his forehead with mine
Maybe not the bottom.
“Yo Bucky help me out here!” I gasped out if the trance I was in, I sighed out in disappointment.
“I just wanted you to know, I have to leave now, my flight’s in an hour.” I informed him.
“We’ll call you when we get a lead.” he nodded awkwardly, I shook my head and hugged him.
“Thank you, enjoy the little bromance moment you got planned in that scrap metal brain of yours.” I mumbled while he pulled me closer before I broke away to say goodbye to everyone and make my way back to Virginia.
Holy fuck I did it.
“Attack me bitches.” I spread my arms wide walking into the briefing room, looking at the team who stood up looking at me and crushing me in the group hug.
“y’know, we saw the footage, Walker killing that man.” Emily was the first to speak up, I sighed knowing I had to answer them.
“It was so not a sight I enjoyed.” I plopped down on the couch.
“We meant we saw you, with wings, and you had this black thing flowing out of your hands.” Morgan clarified and I laughed nervously earning looks from Hotch.
“Wait, what black thing?” my eyes winded as I panicked from not knowing what I did.
“Genesis…it happened again.” Spencer mumbled making me hang my head down in realization. It wasn’t supposed to happen. I thought I had control over the…darker part of my powers.
I sighed ignoring the feeling of guilt and started to explain myself
“Okay fine, I’m an Avenger. I got wings and energy manipulation powers.” I admitted. It was kind of funny watching their jaws drop. “I joined the FBI for a change, dropping my old life y’know.” I shrugged.
“Reid? Did you know about this?” Rossi questioned, it was hard to say what they were thinking about me now.
“I know everything.” He smirked making me slap his arm.
“I’m sorry for keeping this from you guys.” I looked down at my tangled fingers.
“Babygirl, we’re not mad, just surprised, and really proud of you.” I beamed at everyone who nodded and smiled at them.
I spent the next hour or so telling them about the mission, what we did, and stuff. We were happy.
“So you confessed?” Spencer stuttered out after getting over the initial shock and dropping the ice cream spoon on my floor
“Yes I did, you’re cleaning that up.” I pointed at the chocolaty mess he had made “if you didn’t hear, I also ran away after said confession.” I mumbled with my mouth filled with ice cream, my eyes staring at the glory of Chris Pine in Star Trek playing on TV. Spencer just nodded taking the words in.
“At least you confessed?” he celebrated with uncertainty, and I nodded with a laugh.
“At least I confessed.” I stated with a smile.
“My little sister is in Love.” he sang out making me roll my eyes.
“I’m 10 months older than you.”
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Reign of Sinners → kth x jjk
Hopefully this ends up well. If I feel like putting this to a cliffhanger, then I will do so and I will post the chapters on my BTS and a separate masterlist.
➢ Pairing: Servant! to Consort!Taehyung x Prince!Jungkook
➢ Genre: Angst, suggestive content, romance, smut, fluff, and some heartwarming moments
➢ Word Count: 1.2k
◊ Description: Jungkook feels torn between risking his future as king and submitting to the royal duties of one. Taehyung arrives at the castle as a servant. Both meet on opposite ends and their lives change forever.
↪ Warning: Cursing. Lots of it. Suggestive smut, mentions of smut, and some sad stuff, someone will get hurt
Masterlist | Reign of Sinners Masterlist
Hi, my name is Kim Taehyung. I’m 25 years old, and I’ll soon be working for the King and Queen of Korea. I set out on a transport, riding in the back with my friend in the front. He’s a businessman, middle class, so he has no need to worry about food or basic necessities like I do. I’m in the third class. Poor, but with this job, I can take care of my family properly. I’m a farmer boy.
“Jimin-ah! Are we there yet?”
“No, Tae. We have to wait at least a little bit! It’s been 3 hours! We have like...2 hours left!”
Yes, there’s a 5-hour journey from where I live, Dangje (not a real place but I thought of it because it seemed similar to both Daegu and Gwangju (Where J-Hope and V are from)) to the capital, Kimwon (once again, not a real place).
Fuck. I already feel like I need to shit my pants, which feel like sandpaper against my skin.
“WHY THE FUCK DIDN’T YOU GO TO THE BATHROOM BEFORE YOU LEFT HOME, TAEHYUNG?!” The voice screams in my head.
“You can shut the hell up. We don’t talk about that.” I answer it back, pissed off.
The transport keeps hitting bumps, and I’m constantly jostled around in the back. You know, we don’t have seatbelts. Nah, us poor people are not allowed such luxuries. We can only hold on for dear life.
And hope our driver is a good one.
Jimin constantly blabbers to fill the awkward silence between us two. Not that it’s awkward, he just likes to talk. I’d love to conversate with him, but I’m really not in the mood right now, being preoccupied with other things.
Like what is the King and Queen going to be like? I have no idea. Seriously. I’ve only heard about them, but what are they like in person?
I’ve also heard about three princes. Three sons of theirs. Not one, but three heirs. Jeon Jungkook, Jeon Jung-hyun, and Kim (nee Jeon) Seokjin. Seokjin already got married to the prince of another kingdom, Kim Namjoon. All three are rumored to be very handsome.
Shit, I sound like the town’s gossipers. Nice.
Suddenly, I realize that my friend’s voice has gone quiet.
“Jiminie?” I ask timidly.
“Yeah?” I sigh in relief internally at that. He’s okay, thank goodness.
“Anything on your mind, Tae?”
“Nothing in particular. Just thinking on what my new life is going to be like...” I trail off, thinking again.
“I heard about the princes. They’re very handsome. Or so I’ve heard. For all I know, they could be ugly hags who have fleas around them.” He shrugs.
I jolt, startled at him. Why would he say such a thing?! “Dude, what the fuck?! Don’t say that! You know you could get killed for saying that, right?!”
“You can stop freaking out now. I know I can get killed. You know why I still say such things?”
“Because I hold so much power. They wouldn’t even dare to kill me. I’m essential to them.”
The sad fact is that it’s true.
He is essential to them.
“Anyway, let’s stop thinking about such sad stuff, otherwise I think I’ll drive both of us off a cliff from insanity.” The blonde says tiredly, rolling his eyes and smiling.
I can’t help but giggle.
We’ve always had the same sense of humor.
We became friends in high school. Those times where he’d drag me to parties, eyes shining with happiness, plump red lips that tasted of soju, his blood-moon hair turned dark under the moonlight. The wind in my green-streaked brown hair, our clothes flapping behind us as we ran.
It was where we shared my first kiss.
He had a boyfriend, but we were so drunk that we had no idea what we were thinking.
And his boyfriend broke up with him the next day after finding out what happened. That was good, he was a jealous bitch anyway. He only loved Jimin for his body.
But those were good times.
...I now identify as pansexual.
“Hey.” Jimin’s soft, but deep voice interrupts my thoughts.
“Maybe you should go to sleep. You left the house at 5 AM. Best go to sleep, you don’t want to look all tired for the king and queen, am I right?”
“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll go to sleep.” I sigh.
“Don’t worry, it’s a safe road, there are no bumps on this one.”
“Okay.” With that, I close my eyes and sink into the darkness that calls me by my name.
I sigh and close my eyes on my neatly made bed. Eomma won’t let me go. Sometimes she’s such a pushover. Especially about marriage. I’m 23, around the time that most would get married around here.
I feel my hands curl into fists at the thought, blunt nails digging into palms. I revel in the slight slice of pain it brings me, it distracts me from such thoughts.
Sure, maybe I’m attracted to both men and women.
But they certainly don’t get to push the metaphorical reins for marriage.
And I may or may not be leaning towards men. I have a preference for them.
Silky and lightly tanned skin, sparkly brown eyes, thin but full pink lips...
That’s my ideal type.
Did I mention I have a muscle kink? No? Well, now you know. I have a huge kink for muscles. I love muscular guys.
I like guys who can melt me in a moment, but make it up by being cute as hell. I like me a guy who can do both.
But enough of my type, damn it.
I take out a red book with golden embroidery on it. There’s a lock keeping it shut, and only I have the key. It’s my diary.
I scribble the pen across multiple pages, feelings of anger and sadness flowing out like blood on the paper.
...Let’s just say my penmanship is not the best.
Now, now...not all princes and princesses are born with the ability to write or read perfectly.
Oh hell, who is?
Groaning and slamming the book shut, I get up, smoothing my wrinkled blue tunic. I feel the gold embroidery against my waist, making me feel like I want to crawl out of my own skin. I heard there was a new servant coming today, a personal one. Perhaps for both of us.
Jin-hyung had moved out about two years ago now, so it’s just me and Jung-hyung now.
“Jungkook! There’s someone here to meet you!” Appa’s voice reaches me from the bottom of the long, winding stairwell.
Someone to meet?
In the world...
Wants to meet...
Me, of all people?
Despite what people think, I’m not perfect. I’m human. My brother is better than I am.
I don’t know why people think I am just...a golden child.
I descend the stairs ever-so-slowly, running my manicured nails over the smooth wooden railing, polished to an impeccable shine. My hand looks sickly pale against it.
I reach the bottom and hyung is already waiting in the big foyer with a crystalline chandelier, with someone I don’t recognize. Along with eomma and appa as well.
The plush carpet feels nice under my black sheer-socked feet.
“This is Kim Taehyung. He’s going to be your personal servant from now on.” Eomma looks at me, only breaking eye contact after a long, charged moment.
I look at him and almost shit my pants.
God, he’s gorgeous...
“And this is Jeon Jungkook, the prince you’ll be serving from now on.”
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When I think of you..
Pairing: Park Jimin x female reader
Description: You and Jimin have a strong connection to one another. But when he moves away, will you keep that connection or will it be severed?
Warnings: Ngl this imagine gives off a lot of yandere energy- Soulmate au, Jimins the man we all want
Notes: This story switches between povs, but I’ll tell you who’s and when- but the beginning is yours ;) Also, I’m not sure if I should leave it here or make a part 2?
When I see you, you make every fiber in my body smile.
When I hear you, your voice is a melodic song to my ears, I never want to stop listening.
When I touch you, it feels like lighting shot up my fingertips, electrifying.
When I think of you…
August 14, 2015
We were always friends. We grew up together, we were never apart, therefore we did everything together.
One day after the other, we made new memories and had exciting adventures.
We went through middle school, made friends.
Then highschool came and it was a bit rough, but we were getting by.
We always hung out with the same friends, this group of just one girl and seven boys.
Me and you were the closest, but I grew closer to each of the other boys as we grew older.
Each of them had their own unique colors. But I always came back to you.
Eleventh grade. Your family was moving away, you weren’t going to be with me much longer.
I was staying back in Seoul, while you were moving to the UK.
You were studying abroad and your dad got a new and improved job in England.
I was left behind with the other boys. But before you left, you said one final thing to me that I held onto for the rest of the time you were gone until today.
We were at your house, we were up on the roof, looking at the sunrise. It would be our last one together. I thought.
It was the beginning of fall, so the air was a bit chilly.
You gave me your jacket. You were taller, so it fit me well.
You turned towards me and looked deeply into my eyes and caressed my hands with your own.
“Y/n-ah I will be gone. For a while. You may not see me. Or feel me. Or even hear me. But you can always think of me. Think of me and all our dreams we had. Think of all the good things we have gone through together and what we will go through as soon as we see eachother again. This will not be our last sunrise, and the sunset will surely not be our last either. As long as you are here on this earth and I’m here too, we are watching the sky together. Think of me when you watch the colors fade together. Promise? I wanted to tell you, not in these standards, but I wanted you to know that I will wait for you. Will you wait for me? I will count down the days until I get to see your beautiful face again-“
Your fingers painted against my cheeks. You put a stray piece of hair behind my ear. You leaned in closer but not close enough.
“-I will never love another woman like I love you. I promise you, Y/n. From this day forward, I may not be here with you, but you are mine. Don’t let anyone else have you. Keep yourself for me and your purity for me too. Promise me that you will do all of those things like I will you.”
You came even closer, I got anxious, I closed that space and closing that space made us fly into oblivion. All I could see was the back of my eyelids as my eyes were closed and my lips were on yours. With that kiss we shared. I promised that I would never let anyone else be this close to me except for you. You were the one I was supposed to be with. You were the first and only person I see as perfect. From that day forward, I would look up at the sky, thinking of us, and this moment we shared on the rooftop of your house.
August 1, 2016
It’s been a year since you left, I held up.
Me and the boys haven’t stopped hanging out, they know I miss you.
I’m doing good in school, junior year was hard without you, but I think that I’ve gotten better senior year.
I was thinking of studying abroad for college in the UK. We could see eachother again.
Every day, after the last class of the day, I always stop by your house. Well your old house.
I’m never alone, If you wanted to know. Out of all the boys, Namjoon was always there for me the most and knew how it felt to lose someone close to you.
Taehyung is so flirty and such a big baby, I wish you were to see how Jungkook grew up. He’s taller than me now.
To be honest,Yoongi has been really distant since you left. More than usual. I think we all just miss you. But I think I miss you just a little bit more.
I really haven’t been eating that much, I just haven’t been hungry. But Jin always makes me. He doesn’t leave me alone until he sees me eat a full course meal before bed.
I think we made really good friends. Hoseok is still the brightest star. He tends to see the positive side of things. I need that right now.
May 23, 2017
Today is the last day of school. I’m going to be going to college soon. I passed exams well, I kept telling myself that I wouldn’t be able to see you if I didn’t do well.
We haven’t got to call, I promise that I’ve been trying. I always leave voicemails, your mom said that you’ve been really busy. I’m sorry for bothering.
July 17, 2017
I miss you. I miss you so much that I wear that jacket you gave me all the time. I’m going to college. Not in the UK, but hopefully you will come back soon. I study hard. But sometimes I have these moments when all I think about is you, and another girl. You probably have a girlfriend. You’ve probably forgotten about me. But I still promised you. I will keep that promise.
I hope you get breaks. That you aren’t working all the time. Is your dad pushing you? I know he can be like that.
My birthday is coming up soon. I wish you would at least text me or call me. Just your voice would be reassuring. I think I’m asking too much.
Namjoon’s Point of View— July 17, 2017
I am not going to lie about the situation. Y/n has been terrible lately. She has definitely gotten worse. She never eats or interacts with anyone else except for me and the boys. It’s like Jimin was the reason she was put onto this earth.
“Hyung, Y/n’s birthday is coming up. I think we should invite Jimin Hyung down. For Y/n/n sake.”
Jungkook misses the way Y/n lit up when they all hung out and played video games together. They never do that anymore, especially now that Jimin’s gone and she’s started going to college.
“Good idea, Kookie. We should. Go get the other boys and tell them we are having a meeting.”
He smiles and runs up the stairs. I turn off the TV and clean up the living room.
Once all the boys pile down the stairs and into the main room, I clear my throat and stand in front of everyone.
“Okay! So everyone knows, or at least I hope you do, that Y/n’s 20th birthday is coming up. Kookie, had the bright idea of throwing a surprise party for her, and inviting Jimin to come down for about a week or two. What do you guys think?”
“Can she handle seeing him after such a long time?”
Yoongi asked. He really cares for Y/n’s mental and emotional health.
“I think it is better if we follow through with it. They both need to see each other.”
I confessed. I think it’s settled.
“Then my idea is the best! Can we all go out to eat now? I’m starving..”
We all laughed and went out to eat.
Y/n’s Point Of View— July 20, 2017
It’s almost my birthday..I think you probably know that. At least I hope you do.
I remember when time just flew by like it was nothing when we were together. But now it’s so painfully slow.
I keep wishing in the well outside of our school, that maybe, just maybe you would show up for my birthday.
Have you really forgotten about me? Has it been that long?
4 more days, Jimin, is that enough time for you to pack and come over here? I think it’s plenty..I think you could do it in less because I bet you are just so excited to see me..right?
Jimin’s Point Of View— July 20, 2017
Gosh I miss you so much..I bet you think I forgot about you..But I think the same.
I have made 0 friends here..I only have so much attention and I’m going to give 90% of it to you and 10% of it to the boy’s..that’s not selfish, right? I don’t think so.
I meant what I said back before I left..no other boy should be as close to you as I am, or at least was. Yoongi has texted me so much..and I guess they are wanting me to fly over and surprise you. I think that’s an amazing idea, but will I recognize you? And will you recognize me? I wonder if it will be a surprise..
I bet you’re depressed, about me not contacting you..
To be honest, I’m too scared.
What IF you have moved on? I don’t want to face that pain..I’m so vulnerable without you next to my side that if I hear the words, ‘Who are you?’ Or ‘Oh, I have a boyfriend’, my mind will go totally blank and I’ll hide myself away just like I did when I left.
The truth is..I think you are my soulmate. I think you are the one that was put on this earth for me to find and to love.
I'm going to come to you and prove my love for you.
Because when I think of you..
Y/n’s Point Of View— July 20, 2017
I really do love you, Jimin..I’m just so lost without you. Cliché, I know.
You’re my soulmate. I just know it! I have never felt the way I do about you with anyone else! You are the one!
Whenever I see you, I’m going to never let you go. Not like last time. You aren’t going to stay away from me. We are going to be each other’s happiness.
And just your smile. I look at the pictures we took together everyday. Your smile brings me joy, like butterflies in my stomach.
And when I think of you..
When I see you, it’s like seeing color for the first time.
When I hear you, your words make me love to listen.
When I touch you, the feeling of your warm, soft skin lingers on my fingertips.
When I think of you..
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What Happened?-P.P *AG*
*I wrote this when three years ago so sorry if it’s cringey!
Summary-Peter climbs into Y/n’s room and asks her for help for something.
Warning-Slight mentions of blood and cuts.
I was sitting in my room trying to finish an english paper that was due tomorrow and I haven't even started it.
"Ok so, when Juliet say, 'Romeo, oh Romeo! Where for out 'thou Romeo?' she is calling out for Romeo because she knows their love if forbidden. So, she's saying these words hoping that Romeo could hear her..." I hear a knock at my window. I turn around in my office chair and see the famous red and blue silhouette, or better known as my boyfriend Peter Parker, laying on my window. I smile at him and gesture for him to come in. He nods his head and slowly opens the window. I hear him land on my blue carpet and lay against the chair.
"Ya know Peter, next time you come into my room, try not to give me a heart--" I look at him and see his face with huge bloody cuts. His suit had a variety of tears. Small, big, and huge ones. I rush to him and help him up to one of my chairs in my room...
"Babe! What happened?" I ask him while I help him take off his suit. I see his chest and it has a bunch of cuts and bruises.
"I was fighting these bad people. And the police still think i'm a menace! So they shot at me and I dodged most of them but one got me in the leg, and then when I was fighting these bad people, they kicked and punched me..." I started tearing up while running to the bathroom and grabbing my first aid kit.
"Ok this will sting probably a lot!" I say as I rub the rubbing alcohol on his cuts. He groans in pain and moves a lot, "Peter, I can't clean you up if you keep on moving!"
"Sorry! I'm trying my best not to move!" He yells. I look at him and smile.
"It's ok! Just try..." After 15 minutes I finally got Peter all fixed up. I started tearing up seeing him all bandaged up. Peter notices and pulls me into a tight hug and I start uncontrollably start crying...
"Shh, shh, shh. It's ok. I'm right here..." He whispers into my hair and kisses my head. I start to calm down a little bit still hugging him tightly, "Peter, you seriously could've gotten way more hurt. I don't know what I would've done if lost you..."
"You won't ever lose me because..." He pauses and takes a deep breath in, "I love you..."
I look up at him, and smile warmly at him, "I love you too..." He smiles back at me and starts leaning into me. Our lips touch, and move in sync. I pull back from him and stare into his beautiful chocolate brown eyes.
"You know you have beautiful eyes y/n?" Peter asks me in a stating voice.
"Well, you have beautiful ones too..." I respond back, closing the gap in between us and kiss him with love. He kisses back and it feels like fireworks...
'What am I gonna do with you Peter Parker?' I think in my head and smiling to myself...
Word Count: 525