#instead they get to awkwardly have ice cream together and try to pretend nothing is wrong | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starryhyuck · 3 years

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pride. (m)

pairing: sugardaddy!xiaojun x reader

words: 4.7k+

summary: stacked with two jobs, tuition bills and rent payments, an opportunity falls into your lap that leaves you wanting more.

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: creampie, breeding kink, semi-public sex, oral sex, degradation, overstimulation

It all started before you hit rock bottom.

When you enrolled in college and decided to study music, your parents refused to pay for your tuition as they had hoped you would pursue law instead. You’ve been passionate about music since you were younger, and financial burdens were not going to hold you back from pursuing your dreams.

You spend most school nights working a low wage job, and switch to a different low wage job on the weekends. You hardly had time to balance studies and work, but in order to make ends meet, you fill your body with caffeine and call it a day.

You’re in the middle of wiping down the counter of the campus’s local ice cream parlor, ignoring the email you received from your landlord minutes ago. It was yet another warning notice to pay last month’s rent, a task you’ve been putting off for weeks.

There’s barely anyone who comes into the shop this late at night on a weekday, only a few who have a midnight craving they have to fulfill. You’re surprised when Doyeon comes barging into the shop at half past midnight, dressed to the nines in her custom Versace gown.

She sighs and throws herself down on one of the parlor chairs. “I feel sick to my stomach. Is it possible for your intestines to hurt so much from champagne?”

You laugh at her. Doyeon was your first friend when you came to campus, and you were blissfully unaware of how wealthy she was until three months into your friendship. Her mother recently remarried and Doyeon despised her stepdad, but she never had any complaints about the money he carried with him. Doyeon’s offered to pay off some of your loans so that you wouldn’t have to work two jobs, but you always turned down her offer. You couldn’t take money from her — you had to have a little bit of pride.

“What happened now? More sleazy old men hitting on you?” You question, leaning over the counter to ask her.

“You know me so well,” she sighs, her curled hair styled perfectly down her shoulders. She removes her heels for a bit so she can breathe. “And Doyoung was complaining the entire time, pissing off my mom. You know how my brother is.”

You’ve met Doyoung once or twice, and he was very similar to Doyeon — confident, smart and not afraid to speak what’s on his mind. Doyoung had a very difficult time adjusting to their mother’s new beau.

“You know what would be nice?” Doyeon asks, eyelashes fluttering at you. “If you come with me next time.”

“You know I can’t,” you decline, moving to check on the tubs of ice cream. “I’m too busy with work and school. Can’t leave for a night of luxury.”

“But you can,” she whines loudly. “Just let me pay your rent for last month and we’ll call it even!”

You roll your eyes. “I hardly call that even, Doyeon.”

She huffs. “Please? I can’t stand to go to another one of these things and listen to those snotty people tell me how lucky I am that my mom found that douchebag. You would make it so much more fun, and save me from a night of torture.”

For the first time, you’re contemplating Doyeon’s offer. You’ve known for a long time now that you’re running low on funds, and you’re scared that if you don’t find a way to pay your landlord, he’ll end up evicting you. Your eyes glance up to meet Doyeon’s, who has her puppy dog gaze turned on.

You sigh. “Just one event. That’s it.”

She squeals, and almost jumps over the counter to hug you.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you, thank you!”

You awkwardly pat her back. “Yeah, yeah.”

—

Doyeon failed to tell you that the event she was dragging you to would actually take place within a week.

You scrambled to find a dress and how to style your hair, knowing that if you showed up in an off-brand name, you would immediately look like an outcast. Doyeon saved you from the humiliation, shoving you into a Valentino dress that had your eyes rolling out of your head at the price tag. She also hired a hairstylist on the day of to come over and fix you up, which you clearly disagreed on until Doyeon told you it wasn’t up for debate.

And now, here you were, standing in the middle of the most luxurious place you’ve ever stepped foot in. Doyeon leans over to whisper to you while you’re eyeing the waiters and waitresses walking around with trays of champagne.

“Just smile and act like you only care about money.”

She tugs you forward and you try your best to match her pace. A girl approaches you two first, nails wrapped around the stem of her glass. She’s wearing one of the most beautiful gowns you’ve ever seen, a Chanel piece her mother imported for the event.

“Hyojung, you’re way too young to be drinking anything,” Doyeon scolds.

“Calm down, mom. No one’s snitching except you. Who have you brought?”

Doyeon beams and loops her arm through yours. “This is my friend from college.” She gives Hyojung your name and you offer your best smile.

Hyojung returns your grin. “Nice to meet you. Where do your parents work?”

Doyeon opens her mouth to tell Hyojung the truth, but you stop her.

“They own a few chain businesses in our hometown. Nothing too grand,” you inform. Hyojung nods in agreement, eyes darting somewhere else.

“Well, Chanwoo is here. I’m going to get the gossip that he owes me from last time.”

When Hyojung leaves, Doyeon frowns at you. “Why did you lie?” She questions.

You shrug. “I would rather not be a fish out of water here more than I already am. It’s better if people think I’m at least middle class.”

“Okay,” she says slowly. “You know I’m not ashamed of you, right?”

You giggle and pat her cheek. “Of course I know.”

“Finally!” You hear someone exclaim, and you turn to see Doyoung rushing over to the two of you. “Where the hell have you been? Mom’s going to murder you for showing up so late.”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Relax. We took a long time getting ready.”

Doyoung smiles gently at you before tugging his sister away. You feel even more awkward, hands folding together as you sway in the middle of the room. The people around you are talking animatedly and you can faintly hear the sound of the violin in the back of the room. You wonder if you should pretend to go to the bathroom or find somewhere to sit-

“Never seen you here before.”

You turn to see a guy your age, dressed in a full Armani suit and Rolex watch shining under the sparkling chandelier. You awkwardly clear your throat.

“Uh, yeah. My friend brought me. Do I look that weird?”

He chuckles, running a hand through his chestnut locks. “You look beautiful. I’ve just been to plenty of these galas before and I’ve pretty much memorized the guest list.”

Your heart lingers on his compliment and you avert your gaze.

“My first one. Are they always like this?”

“Boring, you mean?”

You laugh and he joins in. You swear you feel butterflies frantically flying in your stomach.

“So, what’s your story? Also have rich parents?” You ask.

He nods. “My mother owns half of the city’s major businesses. I’m Xiaojun, by the way.” You give him your name and he smiles, motioning to the back of the room. “Want to talk where it’s a little less loud?”

You agree, smiling and taking his arm as he leads you to the less chatty part of the room. You both sit on a luxurious velvet couch, a piece of furniture that most likely costs more than your entire apartment. Xiaojun hands you a glass of champagne, his smile taking your breath away.

“Tell me a little bit about yourself,” he muses, eyeing you carefully.

You laugh. “Is this a job interview?”

He shrugs. “Could be.”

Your eyebrows furrow at his answer, but you figure rich people were always weird and vague like that. “I go to the same college as Doyeon, and I’m studying music. Not really much to say, I spend most of my time working.”

He nods, and you can’t place what the look in his eye is for.

“Music, that’s interesting. What made you decide to take on such a daunting major?”

“Daunting as in it’s not law or business?” You counter, giving him a look.

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Hey, no judgment here. In my world, I haven’t met anyone who isn’t a law or business major. It’s nice to have a change of scenery.”

He challenges your gaze, and you feel a warmth in your stomach you haven’t felt in months. You jump when you hear the shriek of your name and Doyeon comes charging towards the two of you.

“There you are! Jesus, I had to hear Doyoung fight with my stepdad for almost ten minutes.” Her exasperation turns into surprise when she sees Xiaojun seated next to you. “Oh! Hey, Dejun. Didn’t see you there.”

He offers a smile. “Hi, Doyeon.”

“Do you mind if I pull her away for a bit?” Doyeon asks, but she’s already looped your arm through hers. You slightly protest when she tugs you away from Xiaojun, but you’re immediately distracted by her next question. “What the hell were you doing talking to him? You know what Xiaojun is famous for, right?”

You frown, looking over your shoulder again to see him, watching as his line of sight carefully follows you and Doyeon.

“No, I don’t. He seemed nice. What’s the issue?”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “He’s a sugar daddy. Always looking for new sugar babies to satisfy him. He’s been blowing through girls like the wind for the past year. He’s not good, and I don’t want you in his company without me.”

You try to process that the man you were just talking to was, in fact, scoping you out to get a potential new sugar baby. You can’t wrap your mind around it, even when Doyeon drags you to the corner of the room, where Doyoung and her stepdad are still fighting.

Your eyes linger on Xiaojun’s table, but he’s already long gone.

—

“Nice shop you got here.”

You practically jump out of your shoes at the sound of the familiar voice, almost spilling a cup of ice cream down your front. You nearly get whiplash with how fast you spin around, eyes widening at the sight of Xiaojun standing in the middle of the ice cream shop. Your manager, Seojeong, raises an eyebrow at your skittish nature.

“Is there a problem here?” She questions, but you immediately brush her off.

“No, no problem!” You squeak. You immediately rush over the counter and push Xiaojun out of the shop. “Seojeong, I’m taking my 15!”

“Um, okay?”

Once you’ve got Xiaojun on the street, you take notice of what he’s wearing - another dark Armani suit, same Rolex watch, and hair styled in a way that’s meant to make your panties drop. You push back your thoughts and whisper harshly to him.

“I know why you’re here.”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Do you now?”

“Yes, I do,” you state confidently, tilting your chin up. “Doyeon told me about your little sugar daddy scheme.”

He laughs. “Ah, is that what they’re calling it now? Didn’t realize I was such a bad guy for wanting to help out girls in bad situations.”

You scoff. “Do you get off on this? Lowering yourself to the underprivileged lives of the poor? Pretending to be the hero that saves the damsel in distress?”

He snickers at your line of questioning, shoving his hands in his pockets and eyeing you. He leans down so that you’re face to face, and you falter as he becomes closer to you.

“And if I do? What if I like giving you money so you don’t have to work two jobs?”

“How do you know I have two jobs?” You inquire.

“You looked so lost at that gala. I told you I’ve memorized the guest list — you’ve never been on it. It became relatively easy to discover the rest of the details. It must be exhausting doing this everyday, haven’t you ever wanted a break?”

You fold your arms across your chest and take a step away from him. “What’s in it for you?”

He grins. “The pleasure of your company.”

“What kind of company?” You ask, doubting him. You won’t lie and say the offer isn’t intriguing to you. You still have pride, definitely, but the weight of two jobs has really taken a toll on you lately. Plus, Doyeon said Xiaojun breezes through girls anyways. You could get a break from paying your rent for a few months and before you know it, he’ll move onto the next charity case he wants to help out.

There’s no harm in that, right?

Your thoughts are blown through the window, however, when his smirk grows wider. You’re sure there’s a large damp spot in your underwear right now.

“Whatever company you like, little one.”

You’re fucked.

—

You keep the relationship with Xiaojun quiet and under wraps. You know Doyeon would have many thoughts about your choice, and she would probably convince you to let her pay your bills instead of Xiaojun. You couldn’t place that burden on her shoulders.

Surprisingly, Xiaojun doesn’t ask for much. He swings by the ice cream parlor once a week, drops off a $1000 check, stays to chat for a little, and leaves. Seojeong doesn’t raise any questions, albeit you’ve seen her glance at the envelope you leave in the back room. You would’ve thought that Xiaojun is the type of guy who invites you over to his penthouse apartment to get to know him, but he’s been quite reserved. He never crosses the line with you, and his questioning stays on the topic of your classes and work. You continuously wonder how to captivate his attention and if the other girls before you failed to do so.

About a month into the deal, your patience wears thin. You’re not even really sure why you’re frustrated in the first place. Anyone would love a no strings attached deal like this, getting $1000 every week with barely any commitment. You quit your other job because you don’t need both paychecks now and you’ve been able to keep up on rent. However, a part of you expected to be close with Xiaojun in some way at this point, especially considering the way he was flirting with you when he first propositioned this.

You’re fully prepared to confront him on Friday night, the same day he usually drops off the check and chats with you for a bit. You practically throw yourself over the counter when he takes a step inside the shop, yelling over your shoulder to Seojeong that you’re taking your break.

Xiaojun laughs at your eagerness, allowing you to tug on his suit as you pull him outside.

“Someone’s excited today. Need the check that badly?”

You frown at the accusation and exhale. “No, as a matter of fact, the money you’ve given me so far could probably cover me for a year.”

“Then what’s with the frowny face?”

“There’s a catch here, Xiaojun, I know there is. You’ve been too nice,” you say, waving a finger at him.

He smirks. “Have I been? I told you, little one, all I need is your company. You’ve given that to me every week, haven’t you?”

You scoff. “Barely. We talk for a few minutes while I’m making orders for other customers and then you leave. I would hardly call that company.”

He gets even cockier, if that was humanly possible. Xiaojun has to know what he’s doing to you — the mystery of his true personality starting to make you curious.

Similar to your first meeting, he leans down until he’s a few inches from your face, eyebrow raised. “Didn’t mean to neglect you, little one. Did you want more from me?”

You shift awkwardly, tension building in your stomach from his words. He was clearly teasing you and his patience was stronger than you previously believed. He waited a month just to have you desperate like this, wanting something more than a few minutes of his time. You’re so wet at this point that you’re definitive Xiaojun knows.

To prove your point, his smirk grows wider. “What are you doing after your shift?”

“U-Um, I have some homework to finish-“

“Great, I’ll pick you up after work and you can finish it at my apartment.” He doesn’t give you any time to protest, moving closer to you, his breath hitting the shell of your ear. “Next time, little one, just tell me you need more attention. Daddy will gladly give it to you.”

—

You’re a nervous wreck when Xiaojun’s expensive Rolls-Royce pulls up to the curb after your shift has ended. His car looks terribly out of place on the streets of your dirty campus, but he doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. You quickly get in and ask him to go before anyone can recognize you.

The ride to his apartment in the upper part of town is filled with silence, making you even more jittery. Xiaojun, on the other hand, is calm and collected with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the console. You try to swallow your nerves and reason with yourself.

This is just Xiaojun — son of a multimillionaire, heir to many respective companies within the city. This is just Xiaojun — the man who’s been giving you $1000 every week with no strings attached, the man who’s clouded your dreams for the past month on more than one occasion.

Unfortunately, you don’t have any more time to dwell on your thoughts when Xiaojun pulls up to the parking garage of his complex. The both of you exit the car and he hands the keys to one of the valet drivers. His fingers fall to the small of your back as he guides you inside.

You try to avoid the blatant stares from other residents. You’re still dressed in your work clothes, a simple t-shirt and pair of jeans, but you couldn’t look more like a fish out of water. Xiaojun doesn’t seem to mind, walking into the elevator and pressing the top floor button. You ride the elevator in silence, and your eyes nearly fall out of your head when you reach the penthouse.

The apartment is straight out of the movies. The decor is extravagant, and you’re afraid if you touch anything, you’ll have to pay a fine. Xiaojun leads you to the dining room, pulling out a chair for you, despite your confusion.

“You can finish your homework here. I’ll be in the study upstairs.”

“Wait wait wait,” you stop him, placing a hand on his chest. “You’re leaving?”

He grins. “Did you want me to stay?”

He was really going to make you beg for it. Your eyes narrow and you feel a burst of confidence run through you. You tilt your head up until you’re a few centimeters from his mouth.

“You said Daddy would give me more attention if I asked for it.”

He growls, eyes darkening. Before you know it, he has you pinned to the grand table, staring at you as if you’re his last meal. It’s your turn to smirk as his control snaps, fingers digging into your hips roughly.

“Think it’s fun to test me? The other girls before you were more behaved,” he hisses, eyes wandering to the valley of your breasts.

“But you don’t like that, do you? You like it when they disobey,” you murmur, pulling him closer to you. “You like giving them their punishment.”

Xiaojun’s lips are pressed to yours before you can even fully register what’s going on, his body locking you against the wood. You whimper, hands gripping his forearm to keep steady. It’s messy and frantic, and you can see all of the built up tension starting to show.

“What would Doyeon think of you whoring yourself out for money?” He snickers, making you feel small under his gaze. “I bet she would be so ashamed. Little one gave up her pride for a few thousand dollars?”

You whine. “It’s not like that.”

“But isn’t it?” He questions you, fingers unbuttoning your jeans and sliding them down your legs. You wish you had worn a sexier pair of panties today but Xiaojun seems satisfied nonetheless, snapping the elastic against your skin. “Can’t wait to get a taste of this cunt. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it, little one?”

You probably look pathetic like this — half of your body sprawled across Xiaojun’s dining table, pants around your ankles, and a large wet spot ruining the fabric of your underwear. You pitifully nod in response to his question, eyes locked on the bulge straining against his expensive trousers. He chuckles when he follows your line of sight.

“Hungry?”

You fall into the role so easily. “Yes, Daddy.”

He directs you on your knees, the cold marble floor sending a shiver up your spine. You eagerly watch him unbuckle his belt and exposing his leaking cock for you. The tip is red and angry, demanding to be touched.

“Go ahead, little one. Make Daddy feel good.”

You wrap your mouth around the tip, nearly moaning at the taste of him. You haven’t been intimate with someone in so long and his cock has your mouth watering.

“Good girl,” he soothes, pushing his cock further down your throat. Tears immediately spring into your eyes when he ignores your gag reflex, hands gripping the back of your head as he guided you. “Shh, doing so well for me, little one.”

You allow him to fuck your mouth, trying to brush aside the tears falling down your face and saliva pooling at the sides of your mouth. It’s filthy and you love it — you haven’t been used like this in months and you never realized how much you missed it.

“Your mouth is so perfect, fuck,” he groans. “I’ll pay for anything you want if you stay on your knees like this, all pretty for me.”

You gasp when he lets you breathe, pulling his cock away. He chuckles at you, fingers returning to stroke himself as he watches you regain yourself. He tugs you back on your feet, overlooking your wobbly legs and pushing you into the living room. You’re about to question him on what he’s doing until he’s shoving you up against his glass window. You gaze downwards, seeing a plethora of people passing by on the street and cars honking to one another. It’s a view you only see in the movies, and you know Xiaojun’s eager to fuck you into the fantasy.

His fingers slide into your underwear, breath hot against your neck. “Look at all of them down there, little one. Bet they want to be just like you, fucked so good for everyone to see. Even better when I cum inside you, hm?”

You freeze. “D-Daddy,” you whisper frantically. “I’m not on the pill.”

He’s silent behind your figure before you feel him playing with your folds, your wetness coating his hand.

“Isn’t that nice? What do you think of getting knocked up, little one? This entire place could be yours, you would never have to step foot in that ice cream shop again. All the wealth you never imagined, you could spend all day in bed with me while I stuff you full. You would look so pretty on Daddy’s arm. I wonder how many times we could sneak away from the crowd so I could fuck my cock into you. Wouldn’t that be a dream?”

You gasp, growing wetter by the second. He easily slides a finger into your heat and all common sense is thrown out of the window.

“Please fuck me, Daddy,” you beg. “Please please please. I’ll be good for you, I promise.”

He laughs at your desperation, pushing another digit inside. “Even though you’re not on the pill? How filthy of you, little one.”

It’s sick. You barely know this man but all you want is his cum inside you. You can imagine the headlines now — Millionaire’s Son Gets Poor Girl Pregnant. But you want it. You want it so badly.

You hear the tearing of your panties but you couldn’t give a fuck what happens to them, pushing yourself further into him. He laughs again at you, tip lining up to your entrance.

“Beg for it.”

You cry. “Please, Daddy! I want it, I’ve been so good for you! I’ll let you cum inside me and everyone can watch. I want them to see who I belong to.”

“Fuck,” he growls at your submission. You nearly scream when he pushes into you, his girth bigger and thicker than you’ve ever taken before. On top of that, you haven’t had sex in months and the stretch is almost unbearable. Your head rolls back but Xiaojun grips your chin and forces you to look outside the window. “Look at all those people, little one. They’re about to get a nice show.”

He gives you no time to adjust, thrusting into you like he wants to break you. His fingers tangle into your hair and he pulls roughly, causing you to yelp at the pain. You’re past the point of coherent thinking, Xiaojun’s cock fucking you so good you can barely talk.

“Good, little one?”

“Mmf,” you gurgle, gasping at the force of his movements. You can feel him in your throat, and it’s as if he’s waited all these weeks just to spill his seed into you.

You tumble over the edge when he pinches your clit, whispering the dirtiest confessions into your ear. “Needy whore,” he laughed sinisterly. “Probably can’t go a day without my cock after this. Going to be begging me for it, wanting me all the time now. I can’t wait to take you everywhere and anywhere I please. I’ll buy you so many cute outfits, little one. So many skirts that make it easy for me to slide right inside and fuck you until you’re crying for me.”

You clench around his cock and fall over the edge, your wetness spilling down your thighs.

“Daddy,” you breathlessly hiss, body going limp in his arms.

“You came so much for me, little one. Your slutty cunt is so good for me, isn’t it?”

“Please, Daddy,” you plead. “Please, Daddy. I want to feel your cum.”

“Yeah?” He grunts, the sound of his balls repeatedly slapping against your pussy echoes around the room. “You wanna get pregnant? All baby wants is a big fat cock to stuff her full of cum, hm?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you cry out, not even caring how pitiful you look at this point. “Want it so badly.”

Your desperation snaps the cord inside of him and he spills every last drop into you. You whimper at the warm feeling, some of his cum starting to drip out and coat the inside of your thighs. You both attempt to catch your breaths, your legs feeling like jelly.

You’re about to move away from him until Xiaojun keeps you pinned to the window, stopping you from leaving.

“W-What are y-you doing?” You ask, still out of breath from the fucking you just received.

“I don’t think that was the one,” he muses, eyes locked on where you two are intertwined. He offers an experimental thrust that has you scrambling.

“No, no,” you sniffle, trying to move away from him again. “I can’t, I can’t.”

“I think you can,” he chuckles, enjoying the way your cunt wraps so nicely around his cock. “And you will. Haven’t gotten you pregnant yet, little one.”

You spend hours fucking like bunnies with Xiaojun taking you on almost every surface of his apartment. You don’t even care that you’re impregnated, allowing him to use you in any way he pleases while the sun falls under the skyline.

Your pride didn’t matter that much anyways.

#nct smut #wayv smut #xiaojun #xiaojun smut

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kravkalackin · 3 years

Text

It was a fool proof plan, if Lup did say so herself. She was really quite proud of it, and her mastery of the art of the grift in general.

The fancy restaurant was extremely crowded, and also much more expensive than either her or Barry could really afford. Considering all that, there was really no reason for them to have made a reservation on valentine’s day, especially considering they weren’t even dating.

No reason to, except Lup wanted to treat herself. And also Barry. And also lord it over her brother that she got to eat here before he did. So she came up with a plan, and valentine’s day was the best time to play it out for maximum effect.

It was a genius twist on an old classic really. Simple, but just unexpected enough that no one would see through it. Her and Barry were going to enjoy their dinner, acting as a sickeningly in love couple for all to see, highlighted by the valentine’s day atmosphere.

As soon as dinner started to wind down, Barry was going to propose. Most grifts would leave it at that, but this kind of place wouldn’t offer a free meal for a proposal, not on valentine’s day of all days. The most they could get was probably a free desert. No, they needed to go bigger.

Barry was going to propose, and all Lup had to do was turn him down. Awkwardly grab her stuff and shuffle off, leaving him all sad and dejected.

And them bam! Free steak and shrimp and wine. They would still leave a tip for the waiter, but otherwise Barry would meet her outside and it would be hilarious.

Lup had just about finished up her meal now, and damn it was nearly worth the ridiculous price tag. She was laughing over something Barry had said, and really the easiest part of all this was the whole pretending to be in love with him thing, mostly because she really didn’t have to pretend.

She saw his eyes flicker to hers, and then off again. She didn’t look, but she guessed the waiter was starting to head over. She stopped laughing, giving him a quick, subtle nod. With a nervous smile, he stood up. They had already been holding hands across the table, and he didn’t let go now.

“Lup,” he started, and it was adorable how red his face already was. She knew he didn’t enjoy being the center of attention, so she would have to find some way to make this up to him later.

“Lup, we’ve been together for a long time now. Ever since you came into my life I’ve had to wonder every day how I could have possibly gotten so lucky to even know you. Getting to actually share my life with you? I’d say it’s a dream, but there isn’t a dream out there that could live up to you,” he continued, and she could feel her face starting to heat up now as well. She hadn’t been expecting a speech.

Probably a smart move. Garner up even more sympathy.

“How someone like me could possibly be worthy of someone as intelligent and loving and beautiful as you, I’ll never know, but that day in eighth grade when you called me a nerd and made me help you and your brother catch the class mice you accidentally let loose was legitimately the best day of my life. I wouldn’t be the person I am today without you, and I don’t ever want to let go.”

“Shit,” Lup whispered under her breath, having to blink rapidly as her eyes started to get all moist. She didn’t expect him to be so good at this, why was he so good at this?

“I love you Lup, with all of my heart,” he said, finally getting down on one knee now. With the hand that wasn’t holding hers, he pulled out a small ring box, having to finally let go to actually open it.

“So I need to know. Lup, will you marry me?”

“Yes.”

Barry’s eyes widened, genuine surprise on his face instead of the fake devastation that was supposed to be there. It took Lup’s brain a moment to catch up with her words, and when it did she nearly slapped her hands over her mouth.

“O-oh? Awesome,” Barry said, clearly trying to recover from her going incredibly off script. When he reached over Lup let him slide the ring onto her finger.

And well, there was nothing left to do but fucking lean into it, so when he stood back up Lup pulled him into a kiss. The restaurant broke into cheers around them, and when they finally pulled apart Barry looked like a tomato.

“Might I be the first to say congratulations,” their waiter said, and Lup forced herself to grin up at him over the wishing for death she was doing inside. Well, the wishing for death mixed in with the absolute euphoria of finally getting to kiss Barry.

“Thank you,” she managed, watching as he put down what she could only assume was a free heart shaped chocolate cake with vanilla ice-cream.

And also the check.

“Uh, Lup?” Barry asked after a moment, seeming to have finally gotten the ability to form words back again. Instead of responding Lup quickly reached over, flipping the check before she could actually see any of the numbers.

“If I don’t see the numbers they can’t hurt me,” she said in a rush, and Barry was looking at her somewhere between befuddled and endeared.

“I don’t- I don’t think that’s how it works,” he said, and Lup shook her head. Taking a spoon, she started shoving cake and ice cream into her mouth. If she was going to pay for this, she was going to enjoy all of it.

“Nope, totally how it works,” she said. Barry chuckled at that, starting to eat some of the dessert as well.

“Fair enough,” he said, and it was quiet for a moment.

“I’ll... pay you back for this,” Lup whispered quietly. Barry waved her off, and she could see that he was eating more of the ice cream than he should. Considering the night though, she couldn’t blame him.

“Don’t worry about it,” he insisted, but they both knew that wasn’t going to happen. After a moment she could see his eyes glance towards her hand, which was still wearing that engagement ring. “Hey do we... do we need to talk about uh, anything? After this?” he whispered, and Lup kind of wanted to die.

But she also really wanted to kiss him again.

“Maybe. Can we make out again first?” she said, and despite the shade of red of his face Barry quickly nodded.

“Definitely,” he said.

“Cool,” she said, and yeah, there was going to be a lot they needed to talk about, but also really not that much.

They had already pretty much said everything.

#taz #the adventure zone #blupjeans #lup #barry bluejeans #nothing says valentine's day like blupjeans #lup: this plan is fool proof i just need to pretend to not be in love with barry for a minute #ten minutes later: ThIS plAn WAs NoT fOoL PRooF #I am The Fool

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river-bottom-nightmare · 3 years

Note

May we have more sad Kon drables?

you may absolutely have more sad kon drabbles babe. enjoy your angst.

kon’s reliant on his ttk. almost an unhealthy amount. unhealthy by tim’s standards, because he’s always telling kon he needs to learn how to fight by himself without his powers as a crutch, just in case the worst happens. kon always shrugs and laughs, because how on earth is someone going to take his powers away?? that won’t ever happen, and kon likes using his powers. he’s fine. it isn’t until later that he realizes tim wasn’t talking about him losing his powers. tim was talking about kon’s powers not being enough. because it’s happened. multiple times. no matter how fast he pushed, he wasn’t fast enough to catch a falling tim. no matter much he gritted his teeth and tried to form a shield, it wasn’t enough to stop cassie from getting hit. he wasn’t always fast enough to stop a speedster villain after tim, he wasn’t powerful enough to keep all the bullets from hitting cissie. his powers weren’t enough sometimes. it’s times like these when he realizes tim was right. he should have learned how to fight without his powers. or he should have trained his powers to get better instead of just trusting they’ll be enough. but even though he tries, now, he’s not learning fast enough to make much of a difference

kon’s never quite sure why his teammates act all fidgety when he talks about tana. it’s not like he’s explicit or anything. just small throwaway comments. an ice cream flavour she used to like, a pair of earrings that looked like the ones she used to wear. one day, while he’s telling tim about this date he and tana went on in an attempt to support tim going out with stephanie (yet again) while tamping down his own jealousy, cassie blows. she tells him to shut up, shut up about tana kon come on. none of the rest of us like hearing about her so please just do us all a favour and be quiet. it was easy to snap right back, to let the red rage fill his vision as he argued with cassie, but something about the grief in her voice made her pause. tim butts in awkwardly, telling kon that he knows kon loved her, he knows what she meant to kon, but the younger boy trailed off when kon demanded he explain what the hell he was talking about. it was bart that stepped up and told him, dude, you were fresh out of the lab, but physically only 16. she was 23. that’s not,,,,that’s not okay. no matter what way you put it kon gets it then. he remembers all the cases he’s worked with tim, saving kids from adults much older, holding their shaking bodies as tim beat the criminals up with his staff. but,,,,but it wasn’t the same. he was the one who started it. he was absolutely okay with the entire relationship. he had fun. he loved her. that,,,made it okay. right?

he had to find out from cassie. the two of them were on another one of their dates, desperately trying to make it feel like before. before kon had died, before cassie had splintered in grief, before kon came back but the two of them just didn’t click anymore. joining a cult seemed like a bit of an extreme overreaction, but kon got it. he understood what happened when people were in grief. he doesn’t blame her, and told her so with an arm around her shoulder and her warm body tucked into his side. cassie just shook her head, her voice still achingly sad despite kon’s immediate forgiveness. it wasn’t her that he had to worry about, cassie said. it was tim. kon furrows his brow. tim? he’d suffered, obviously, and kon had seen pain in every line of his body when he’d visited tim for the first time after coming back. that hug had been full of more desperation than he’d ever seen on the younger boy. but he’d been told that all that grief, all that anger, was because of bruce’s death, and tim’s insane-but-not-really-insane quest to bring him back to life. cassie gives a humorless snort. then she tells him about the lab underneath the tower, the superboy shirt in the glass case. kon grows more and more horrified with each word cassie says, trying to imagine the story she’s laying out. tim, out of his mind with anguish. tim, trying to fucking clone him, over and over and over, knowing that it wouldn’t be the same but not even pretending to care, because any small piece of kon would be enough. the sleepless nights, the pills, the changed costume dedicated to him, the frantic energy dedicated to bringing kon back. he stammered out excuses, and cassie let him go without question. he didn’t even care that he left her hanging. he just knew that he had to go see tim, he had to find out if what cassie said was true. his death may have splintered cassie, but it shattered tim, and kon couldn’t help but feel guilt over it.

sometimes kon wondered if martha and jonathan kent approved of the way clark treated kon, or if she even knew. the two of them had taken kon into their home without a second thought, arms out and hearts open with acceptance. it was something he hadn’t felt until young justice had spent some time together, fought for their lives together. and for the kents, it was just immediate. kon wasn’t sure what it was about clark that made him push kon away. or, not really “push away.” more like straight up ignore at his own convenience. it was as if clark would rather forget about him; the only interaction the two of them had was when forced by lois or the kents, or when there was a global disaster and clark needed kon’s help. in his bitterest moments, kon wanted to scream at tim to cut damian some slack. damian had preyed on tim’s worst insecurities, he’d insulted him at every turn, he’d cut tim’s line and did nothing as tim fell. kon would always take tim’s side on this particular brotherly feud. but still, he sympathized with the kid. he’d been created without clark’s knowledge, like damian and bruce, before abruptly meeting them once older and being thrust upon them as an unwanted responsibility. damian was even worse than him, having years of brainwashing, abuse, and assassin-training. but bruce and the rest of the family still took him in, still gave him a chance, still tried so hard to love him until they didn’t have to try anymore to do so. when, exactly, had clark reached out to him to do any of that? other than a stiff, congratulatory smile after a battle or a mandatory dinner forced upon him by the rest of the family? he was getting better, kon could admit. it wasn’t enough, though.

#scribbles from the swamp #kon-el #conner kent #superboy #kon-el headcanon #kon-el drabble #conner kent headcanon #conner kent drabble #superboy headcanon #superboy drabble #dc #dc headcanon #dc drabble

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ckneal · 3 years

Text

So, there’s this one angel story in the back of my head that I know I wont write. I wont write it, because it’s utter nonsense, with very little regard for the canonical timeline of Supernatural, and a willfully blurry view on what is and is not “in character.” It’s fluff. It’s all fluff, in the form of a bunch of smaller stories that gradually weave together, following the Love, Actually style of storytelling, but instead of problematic love stories, it’s all about angels playing hooky from Heaven after the Fall.

(Seriously, there is no substance here, I swear.)

Stories include Abner, living out the first half of the movie Family Man, struggling to figure out how to be a good father and house husband after he steps into the life of the raging alcoholic who agreed to be his vessel. There’s also a very minor story about Esther (not to be confused with Hester, who is not in this story because she never deserted her post in Heaven) learning to play the part of a little girl and navigating schoolyard politics, but kids can be mean and Esther learns the hard way that Michael’s approach to asserting dominance in Heaven does not translate well. There’s also Daniel and Adina, who both settle into vessels in the same movie theater where a romantic comedy is playing, and fall into a very innocent, play-acting sort of love after they leave the theatre—like little kids pretending to be in love, recreating the scenes from the movie, but at the same time not really understanding it. Balthazar, Gabriel, and Anael each trying to roll with the luxurious high roller life style, and awkwardly running into each other at VIP poker games, exclusive spas and clubs, and the occasional orgy that they promptly leave IMMEDATELY after running into a sibling (don’t give me weird looks, Balthazar and Gabriel canonically include that sort of thing in their definition of luxury, and the whole thing of their story is their siblings keep cramping their style). Tyrus is in there bowling, somewhere. Benjamin’s playing arcade games with his wife. And then there’s Thaddeus, my pet favorite minor angel character, realizing what’s happening as he’s falling with all the other faithful angels during the Fall and seizing the opportunity to abandon his life as a guard and torturer, settling into a pop star for his vessel—initially for the sake of the cushy lifestyle, but then gradually looking back, before the garden and Lucifer, before everyone was assigned a job in Heaven, like it or not, and the options were to adapt or to be smote, and remembering that back then, he could sing.

And of course, Michael and Adam get a story too—in which Michael lowkey gets into a pissing contest with death, as he and Adam travel the world, hitting up hospital after hospital to heal people. Because the first thing Adam wanted to do after getting out of the cage (okay, second thing—burgers came first) was go to the nearest medical center and start healing people left and right. And at first, they’re having a great time. Adam steals a white jacket he finds in the breakroom somewhere, and anytime someone says he looks a little young to be a doctor (Adam still looking nineteen years old, because I say so), Michael wipes the poor sap’s mind. But eventually—sometime after they’ve cleared out the children’s ward, the cancer ward, the cardiac ward—Billie shows up, sniping at them that they can’t just go around healing people who are destined to die, because there is an order to life and death that cannot be shoved aside. And Billie tries to make a show of it, as Terra did with Dean, by having several people who Adam had healed over the course of the day inadvertently cause several massive accidents. The news suddenly comes pouring out of the television, channels flipping as newscasters talk about tragedies occurring in several different parts of the city they’re currently in. The sound of approaching ambulance sirens fills the air, as in the hospital hallway, doctors and nurses begin hurrying to receive a rush of ER patients.

Adam’s horrified.

Michael does not take kindly to this. He snaps his fingers and makes it so that the carnage has never happened. Because he is the archangel Michael, only two steps away from being a god, and if he says that all of these people are going to live, then they are going to live, and he WILL NOT be intimidated, especially by an amateur reaper whose only qualification for her position was dying at the right time.

Billie in turn lands Michael with a cold stare, and points out that the order to life and death is beyond even God’s authority, let alone daddy’s blunt, sniveling instrument.

As Michael’s eyes start to glow, Adam steps in and says, “So, to be clear, you want us to stop healing people on the verge of death? We can do that.”

After Billie leaves, Michael is outraged, but Adam says, “No, Michael, THINK about it.”

We then cut to other stories, where newscasts in the background reveal that ailments that are not IMMIEDATELY fatal (AIDs, diabetes, Alzheimer’s, etc.) are mysteriously disappearing overnight, worldwide.

Billie is not amused, and tells her reapers to be on the lookout for an archangel at every major hospital in the world.

Cut to Michael throwing open the door of the bunker, muttering aloud to Adam that he’s going to do it, he’s going to bind Death, just like Lucifer did—how hard can it be? Sam and Dean see him as he goes stomping off toward the cabinet where they keep all of their magical dry goods, but Michael snaps his fingers and the two of them are abruptly half drunk in Dean’s man cave, sitting in front of Dean’s flat screen TV, watching some campy monster movie, because that’s lowkey what Michael and Adam assume they do all day.

As they’re raiding Sam and Dean’s supplies though, Adam says, “Wait, I have an idea.”

Cut to Abner looking up while pushing his vessel’s daughter in a park swing, and literally seeing Michael and Adam chasing an ambulance, so they can technically heal the person inside before reaching the hospital.

Yes, I’m aware that Abner was dead by the time Michael and Adam got out of the cage. But see, this story? This story is like when someone gifts you a goldfish unexpectedly, and you put it in a bowl, checking in to feed it a couple times a day, lowkey expecting it to die. But it doesn’t die, it gets bigger. And you’re not a cruel person, so you put it in a bigger tank, but it just gets bigger again, and you don’t really know what’s going on, but you know, you just kind of keep checking in, meeting the minimum requirements but not really getting in there as a guiding force because it’s a goldfish and it’s surely going to die any minute now—but then you look over and there’s giant tank taking up your living room, and you’re thawing out bloodworms twice a day, and looking into tankmates to keep Charles company, and realize that “Oh wow, I guess this is a thing now.”

In short, the story says we’re ignoring the timeline, and it’s calling the shots. I’m just keeping the tank clean.

The angels all eventually wind up running into each other. Abner and Esther happen upon one another in a park, where Esther is morosely realizing that she is terrible at being a human child but she does not want to go home to Heaven, and it just happens to be the same park where Abner goes with his “little nibblet” once a day to let her toddle around the playground while he chats with nannies and other house parents. Anael, Adina, and Daniel meet up when the latter two’s game has reached the point where they’ve decided to get married, and they apparently need to buy something new—preferably blue—as per this very important rhyme someone told them about. Esther and Gabriel run into each other in an ice cream parlor. Thaddeus gets recognized while doing an interview on TV that everyone sees. And, while out joyriding in a Lamborghini, on their way to meet up with the growing community of angels who decided to opt out of their responsibility to Heaven and their father’s legacy, Balthazar, Gabriel, and Anael are all startled to see Michael land on an ambulance stopped next to them at a red light.

Balthazar and Anael are both terrified, as if they’ve just been busted by a parent, because Michael, of course, is the guy who enforces the rules, and isn’t he supposed to be in Hell? They both shoot Gabriel looks as if to say ‘what the hell are you doing’ when Gabriel, watching as Michael climbs down and matter-of-factly wrenches the ambulance doors open, calls out, “Hey, Mike! Is that you?”

Michael looks over, freezes for a second—not prepared to be suddenly thrust into a social situation in the middle of his self-imposed mission to spite death—then his eyes flash and Adam takes over. “Oh hey, you’re Michael’s family? What a small world! I’m Adam, I’ve heard so much about you. Wait, hang on—”

The light starts to turn green, but Adam snaps his fingers and it promptly reverts to red.

Three jaws drop in the luxury car, and they don’t even hear Adam politely explain that he and Michael are in the middle of something, as he ducks into the ambulance, because Michael’s evidently letting a tiny human use his powers like it’s nothing, and what does that mean?

“Sweet dad in the unknown, Michael’s shagging a human. . .”

“Nooo!”

“HOW?”

“Hey, kid, you like weddings?”

At some point in the story, all the MIA angels are together, and Benjamin or someone comes running in saying, “Quick, they’re coming! Everyone hide!”

And everyone scatters, except for Michael, who stands in place, saying, “Gabriel, we’re archangels, two of the most powerful beings in existence. Why would we—”

And then Gabriel picks Adam up like a sack of potatoes and sprints off, calling back, “Trust me, you do NOT want to get involved with them!”

Being a projection, Michael is obligated to follow.

Team Free Will then walks by, looking constipated from whatever Big Awful Thing is currently threatening to destroy the world.

The story, of course, culminates in the wedding of Adina and Daniel, who still don’t quite understand what marriage is beyond promising to love each forever, which of course they will, after all, they are the very best of friends—which is about the same concept that most of the other angels present have. Adam is the first one to actually approach the big awkward question, upon finding out who the bride and groom are.

“Wait, aren’t they brother and sister?”

To which Serafina’s Adam, (who is of course there since Serafina was the original angel to play hooky) whose sons married his daughters, and all the angels, who do not understand what that has to do with anything, all cock their heads in unison and respond with, “So?”

Adam struggles to find words, looking into so many innocent faces. Then Benjamin’s wife puts a hand on his shoulder, whispering, “Shhh, let them have their fun.”

Benjamin’s wife and the two Adams wind up sitting at the venue’s bar, where they order nachos from a very confused bar tender, and watch as the angels go about setting up a wedding. But given that most angels haven’t been on earth regularly in roughly two thousand years, none of them have a clear grasp of what a human wedding entails.

“I heard it’s traditional for the father to give away the bride.”

“I think they’re supposed to kiss over bread.”

“Do humans still slaughter cows at these things?”

“I’m pretty sure someone is supposed to break a glass—”

Several angels promptly throw glassware on the floor.

At no point do the angels ask the humans for advice.

Occasionally, Gabriel knowingly throws out obscure details to keep the confusion going.

“You know, the groom needs to stand with the right arm to the aisle in case a sword fight breaks out.”

“Right! . . .How do we know which one’s the groom?”

At the bar, Adam open’s his mouth to say something, but the original Adam shushes him.

“No no, son, let them get there.”

The angels agree that being the better fighter, Adina should be the groom.

They’re nearly ready to start when Michael suddenly doubles over with his hand over his mouth. It coincides with the sound of Adam pounding the bar top, having just eaten a Carolina Reaper pepper on dare. Michael’s eyes quickly flash silver-blue as he straightens, and both he and Adam are abruptly fine—even if their eyes are still watering somewhat. But a different sort of damage has already been done, as Anael, Balthazar, and Gabriel all abruptly turn toward the triad of humans, having been reminded that the Michael walking around with them is actually a projection. In actuality, Michael is anchored to the human ex-college student sitting at the bar.

All three of them rush toward Adam, but Serafina gets there first, asking Adam if he’s ever tried mushroom tea.

Balthazar gets there next.

“Adam, was it? We didn’t get to talk in the car, let’s fix that. Are you over twenty-one? You know what, this is a family affair, don’t worry—CAN I GET TWO SHOTS OF DON JULIO OVER HERE?”

From that point on, any time Adam turns around, there’s one of Michael’s siblings, wanting to get to know him—by consuming some sort of beverage. Because Adam and Michael are sharing body—and that means they share a liver too. A bet ensues as to how much it will take to get God’s alleged favorite wasted.

Gabriel’s actually one of the first out, having been convinced that Michael would be a lightweight. Little does he suspect that Benjamin and his wife caught onto what was happening soon after Adam was fed his third long island iced tea and second jager bomb, and began quietly cleansing the alcohol from his system through casual shoulder pats and high fives.

Adam does not know what to make of any of this, but it’s Michael’s family and he wants to make a good impression, so he just goes with it.

Thaddeus, of course, is in charge of music, Gabriel and Esther consume the majority of the cake, and Michael catches the bouquet (he may have cheated after finding out what the bouquet toss is for).

#my thoughts #lowkey might be putting this idea out so it'll leave me alone #midam #supernatural angels #the divine shurley family

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kopikokun · 4 years

Text

Beach Day Blues༄ l.dh

↳ Out on a day trip to the beach with your boyfriend and his friends, you’re anticipating a fun time filled with sunny memories and sand filled swimsuits. What you’re not expecting is the cold shoulder from your usually happy-go-lucky boyfriend, but you’re going to get to the root of this issue, even if it’ll kill you.

pairing: lee donghyuck x reader ft. yuta, mark & jaehyun

content: fluff, beach day, reverse comfort fic, jealousy fic, very mildly suggestive ending

word count: 2053 words

Request 36: Haechan + “I need a hug.” (42) + “You’re cute when you’re angry.” (47) + “You own my heart.” (59) + Jealousy

← BACK TO NAVI.

— 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝.

Perhaps you’re being delusional. Perhaps you’re just dehydrated or, maybe, you rationalise, the scalding rays of the evening Sun have burned not only your skin but your brain cells too (if there were any to begin with). Maybe all of this is just in your head and you’re overthinking it.

“Hey,” someone hisses, “is it just me or is Donghyuck giving you the cold shoulder?”

At the question, or rather observation, your head swivels an almost sharp 90 degrees to stare Yuta straight in the eyes. “So, it wasn’t just me thinking that!”

Yuta chuckles. “Yeah, he definitely seems off…” He peers at Donghyuck discreetly from beneath his sunglasses before turning back towards you. “Did you guys get into a fight or something?”

“A fight? No way!” You pause, suddenly doubting yourself. “At least, I don’t think so…”

Though you’re confident in your verdict of innocence regarding a fight, Yuta’s question prompts you to briefly run through the events of the day. To preface things, you, your boyfriend, Donghyuck, and a few of your friends—namely, Yuta, Jaehyun and Mark—had decided around half a month ago to clear up one day in advance for a ‘beach day’ this week. The idea had sprung after someone had brought up how nice and sunny the weather had been lately, and everyone just unanimously came to the conclusion that sunny weather equals beach day.

You had begun packing for this trip a few days ahead to the surprise of everyone including yourself, which is a testament to your overwhelming excitement, because you rarely--if ever--pack that early for just a single day trip. But who can blame you? This would be your first official trip with Donghyuck. No, you should rephrase that. This would be your first official trip with Donghyuck as your boyfriend. You’ve been on plenty of trips before when you two were just ‘friends’, but now--and maybe this is the romanticist in you which you’ve successfully kept stored away up until recently speaking--it just feels different. You’re sure someone out there can relate, because you’ve never been one to obsess over something as feeble as a label, yet this trip has had your stomach in knots for ages.

The packing process had gone smoothly--neither you nor Donghyuck had forgotten anything--and so had the car ride over. As far as you can recall, your day at the beach so far has gone without a hitch too. You’d had a little picnic, dipped in the oddly warm sea, played some beach volleyball (badly) and gotten some icecream afterward. No fights, no issues, no nothing.

Maybe, you think, he found out I was involved in that little switch up with the sea water. You don’t entertain the idea for too long though immediately casting it away, because you know Donghyuck would never be the type to get so upset over a prank.

So, why the attitude?

You gaze at Donghyuck’s back, hoping that this mystery might just unravel itself if you stare long enough.

“Huh…” Yuta’s voice tears you from your zealous staring competition with Donghyuck’s shoulders. “Then I wonder what’s up…”

You sigh. You know you should confront him and have a mature conversation about what’s bothering him, but that’s so much easier said than done. Maybe this is God’s way of punishing you for ridiculing all those scenes in cheesy teen flicks where the couple would experience a major fall-out because of poor communication. During said scenes, you’d be pulling your hair out, internally screaming at the couple to just freaking talk already, yet now that you’ve been presented this obstacle for you to overcome yourself, you’re erring on the side of caution.

Come on, you reason, I’ve been friends with Donghyuck for over half-a-decade and we’ve gotten into our fair share of arguments during those five years. What’s so different about now?

Yeah, you’re right. You find yourself agreeing with your own thoughts, physically nodding along like you’re speaking to someone. Yuta raises a concerned eyebrow at you. Nothing’s different compared to then. You’re doing it again. He’s just my boyfriend, and that’s just a label. Stop. Obsessing. Over. Labels.

Admittedly, it’s a bit embarrassing having to psyche yourself up to do this, but that’s not what’s important right now. What’s important is that little pep-talk, no matter how laughable it sounded, has gotten you to stand and saunter to Donghyuck with utmost confidence. In hindsight, you should’ve said something to Yuta beforehand instead of just springing from your seat and marching away. The thought hadn’t crossed your mind though, as it was obviously preoccupied with something arguably much more important than giving him the luxury of context.

You decide not to be too transparent about your feelings at first as you take a seat beside Donghyuck on the sand, leaning your head on his shoulder, hoping that all of this was really just your imagination getting the best of you. You silently plead that he’ll perhaps treat you like he normally would, giving you a little peck on the cheek or at least wrapping his arm around your waist. Unfortunately, your hopes are smothered just as quickly as they arise because Donghyuck doesn’t even bat an eye at you, continuing to chat with Jaehyun and flat-out ignoring your presence. Still optimistic for a reaction, you leave a chaste kiss to his bare shoulder, just to let him know that “Hey, I’m here!”, but to no avail. Infuriatingly, he doesn’t even flinch. All he does is drone on to Jaehyun about something you couldn’t care less about.

You huff. Audibly. A last ditch effort in vying for Donghyuck’s attention. It goes just as well as your previous attempts. You cross your arms, glaring at the side of Donghyuck’s stubborn little head, hoping to bore a deep hole through his brain. Maybe then he’ll finally take notice of you. Sensing the undeniable tensity in the air, Jaehyun clears his throat awkwardly, offering Donghyuck some lame excuse about needing to take a piss, before shuffling away. Well, at least someone knows how to take a hint.

With Jaehyun’s departure, you’re left alone with Donghyuck. Usually, he’d be leaping to drown you in affection the second you two had privacy--or even if you two didn’t, to be frank--but all he does now is fiddle with the strings of his swimming shorts absentmindedly.

“What’s wrong, Hyuck?” you finally ask, desperate to break this frustratingly suffocating silence. “Is something wrong?”

Finally, after what seems like centuries, Donghyuck acknowledges your existence, though the look he gives you is not a pleasant one. In fact, it’s one of agitation. His tongue prods at his inner cheek before he says, tone bitter, “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

Evidently taken aback, you crease your eyebrows at him. “I… Did I do something wrong, babe?”

“Oh, come on,” he scoffs, scornful amusement overtaking his normally amiable features. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know. You can just come out and say it.”

“Say what, Hyuck?”

“How much more you’re into Mark than into me,” Donghyuck says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You can’t help but laugh, simply bewildered as to how on Earth he came to this conclusion. “I’m into who now?”

“Mark,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes, “don’t have to pretend like you’re surprised.”

“I’m not into--” you sigh, a smile of disbelief tugging at your lips. “Okay, tell me why you think I’m into Mark.”

“I don’t think. I know,” Donghyuck argues and you scoff, “but it’s obvious. And I have proof. Take when we were playing volleyball for instance. The whole time, you kept eyeing Mark up and laughing at his jokes. All of them. Even the weird ones that nobody gets.”

You snort. “Baby… I wasn’t ‘eyeing Mark up’, I was watching him just in case he missed the ball. And about the joke thing, to his credit, some of them were actually pretty funny! But, as for the the rest--and don’t tell Mark I said this--I felt kinda bad nobody else laughed at them, so I just laughed along with him. Trust me, I’ve been in his shoes before and it sucks. Not all of us are born as naturally as funny as you, Hyuck.” You’re a little remorseful that you’re essentially dissing Mark, but you’re sure he’d understand. Your relationship’s on the line here.

Donghyuck harrumphs, but you can tell by the slight quirk of his lip that he’s a little tickled by you poking fun at Mark and he’s totally been swayed by your compliment.

“Okay, fine that explains that, but how about when we went swimming just now? Why did you and Mark keep exchanging funny looks?”

“That?” You giggle. “You know how your drink was mysteriously replaced by seawater?”

“Yeah,” he trails off, his suspicion growing by the second.

“Who do you think that was?”

Donghyuck groans. “Wait, that was you? Seriously? That was mean, babe.”

“Aww, I know, Hyuck. I’m sorry,” you coo. Your hand inches its way closer to his as you attempt to intertwine your fingers together.

Donghyuck rejects your endeavour of fondness. “Nu-uh, no way. I’m not done with you yet.”

“Oh my God, Hyuck, there’s more?” you complain, though there’s a tint of amusement in your voice.

“Yes, there’s more, and you won’t be able to worm your way out of this one either,” he says smugly, as if it’d be a good thing if you in fact, couldn’t worm your way out of his next accusation. “How about when we went to get ice cream and you kept sliding up next to him?”

You pout. “I just wanted to try the watermelon popsicle he got.”

Donghyuck blinks at you, his once irritated expression dissolving. He seems dumbfounded as you hold his gaze, your mirthful smile never faltering. He turns away from you. “Oh, well… then whatever. I guess you aren’t into Mark.”

“Hyuck,” you say, hand crawling up his arm, “were you jealous?”

“Well, yeah, obviously,” he deadpans, still refusing to meet your gaze.

You giggle. “You’re cute when you’re angry.”

His cold facade is immediately abandoned at your teasing intonation, and just like that, your cheery Hyuck is back. “Baby,” he whines, readjusting himself so he’s facing you head-on, “don’t tease me. I couldn’t help but be jealous, you know?”

“And why is that?”

Donghyuck purses his lips. “Why? What do you mean why?” He gestures up and down, eyes sweeping over you. “Look how pretty you are! What am I supposed to do when you look this good all the time? It’s unfair, really, that you’re this pretty.”

A blistering heat, one that is much hotter than the Sun, gathers in your cheeks. “Oh really now, Hyuck?”

“Yes, really,” he says, genuity seeping into his every word. “Literally, everyday I’m surprised you’re even real.” You grin bashfully and Donghyuck pounds his fist to his chest dramatically like he’s been shot. “See! You’re only smiling and I’m already having heart palpitations at just twenty years old.”

“Okay, okay, Hyuck. You can stop hyping me up now,” you chuckle. You’re beyond glad that your boyfriend has returned to his spirited self, but you know you should address what just happened seriously, just in case. “But hey, I’m sorry that I made you feel that way. Looking back, it definitely could’ve been misinterpreted as flirting and I would never want you to have any reason to feel insecure about our relationship because you own my heart, Hyuck.”

“Aw, babe, you can be really cheesy when you want to be,” says Donghyuck, pinching your cheeks. He plays what you said off casually, but you know that deep down, it resonates with him, and he honestly appreciates your sincerity. “Come here, I need a hug.”

“Right now? There are people around, Hyuck.”

“But you look so good right now. I can’t resist.”

“I don’t know, Hyuck…” You smile demurely.

“Alright, then what about,” Donghyuck reaches to tuck your hair behind your ear, whispering, “we ditch the beach day and go cuddle in the car? My skin’s burning, anyway.”

You grin. “They’re gonna notice that we went missing, you know?”

“So?” Donghyuck challenges, leaning in to place a short but telling kiss on the juncture which connects your ear and your jaw. “Even better. I want them to know.”

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their-destinys-writer · 3 years

Text

Miraculous Ladybug Writer Zine: Once Upon a Season

Yes, yes, this is suuuuper late. But I still want to share it. This is a Lukanette fic I wrote for the @mlwriterzine last year. For this zine, I had the honor of being one of its mods, same as one of its writers. This one was especially special to me, because it’s a zine fully dedicated to writers, which is extremely rare, and the final result was astonishing. Huge thanks to @emzurl for making it possible.

The Start of a Song

“I can’t believe we’re here!” Rose squealed, watching the crowds enter past the security fences. “I’ve never been so close to the stage!”

“I know,” Juleka responded in her low, raspy voice. “Totally rad.”

Rose let out another squeal, grabbing her girlfriend’s hand and dragging her inside. Although there were plenty of bands playing during the Summer Music Festival, there was no artist more exciting than Jagged Stone. To which Kitty Section got tickets for in advance.

“Don’t go too far!” Luka called out, but the two girls were already out of earshot. He sighed, as a hand landed on his arm.

“I’ll help keep an eye for them,” Marinette said next to him.

“Don’t worry, we’ll keep an eye out, too,” Mylène said, coming up the other side with Ivan. “I think it’s a little late to be right in front of the stage.”

“We’ll still be pretty close,” Marinette shrugged. “C’mon, we should get close before it fills up!”

A hand wrapped around Luka’s wrist, as she dragged him towards the crowd. Meanwhile, Luka looked at their surroundings, and couldn’t help but notice something.

“Is it just me, or are there a lot of couples in this concert?” Marinette said nervously next to him.

“Huh, I hadn’t noticed,” Luka responded, as nonchalantly as possible, pretending he hadn’t just noticed the exact same thing. “I do see a lot of people, though. Anyone of us could easily get lost. Speaking of …”

He craned his neck in search of his sister, luckily finding her mere meters away. For the third time that day he reminded himself to not get too distracted by the girl still holding his wrist. As grateful as he was that the other two couples encouraged a romantic relationship between them, Luka would never want to put Marinette in an uncomfortable situation. Especially when he still didn’t know where she stood on that notion.

Instead, he tried his best to make sure his sister didn’t wander off, like he heavily suspected she would try.

“Are you okay?” Marinette asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “Just making sure nobody gets lost.”

“That’s gonna be hard, Ivan and Mylène already said they’re going to the movies after this.”

Luka frowned, turning to her. “When did they decide that?”

“They told me just before you and Juleka arrived. They didn’t tell you?”

“Uh, no.”

It’s a setup, Luka instantly thought. It wouldn’t be the first time they tried leaving them alone in hopes that something would happen. However, he knew better. As much as he wished something would happen, at this point, he was starting to lose hope.

The music started, and the crowd screamed. While everyone else was concentrating on the stage, Luka couldn’t help but divert his eyes to Marinette, with her arms raised as she cheered. A smile curved his lips as the image of happiness brought joy to him. With one last wistful sigh, he turned to the stage and started cheering himself.

Jagged Stone walked into the stage, joining his bandmates with a guitar solo. The screams were louder, and the crowd started pushing to the front, every fan hoping to be closer to the rockstar. Luka tried looking at Juleka’s way again, but his vision was cut by several screaming fans.

An elbow hit his back. He turned just in time to watch a large, tall man about to push Marinette out of the way. On instinct, he grabbed her by the shoulder.

“Wah!” Marinette squawked, as she was pulled into Luka’s chest.

“Sorry,” he said, with an apologetic grin. “I figured you’d prefer being pulled than pushed towards me by that guy.”

Marinette glanced at the man now standing where she had been two seconds before.

“Oh,” she breathed, her cheeks acquiring a light shade of pink. “Thanks, Luka.”

A light caress down his chest sent shivers up his spine. Luka swallowed a large gulp before grabbing her shoulders again and turning her in the direction of the stage.

“Wouldn’t want you to miss the show,” he said.

Marinette’s attention was quickly diverted to Jagged Stone, while Luka attempted to get his cool back. While he had never been secretive about his feelings for her, something about this day felt different to him. He shook his head, in an attempt to send away the thought. He had already learned keeping hopes too high could lead to unnecessary disappointment.

And yet, he couldn’t stop looking at her.

Luka continued looking at Marinette on her toes, craning her neck as far as she could above the heads in the crowd. As amusing as it was, the young man couldn’t help but feel bad. He tapped her shoulder, catching her attention, and made a gesture of holding something over his shoulders.

“Are you sure?” Marinette asked.

“I can take it,” Luka shrugged, kneeling down. “Come on, you’ll see better.”

Although she hesitated for a moment, she quickly agreed when the crowd cheered over something she didn’t get to see. As Luka rose back to his feet, he stumbled momentarily, prompting a squawk from Marinette while she wrapped her arms around his head. Luka couldn’t help but laugh, almost losing his balance again.

“I’m gonna fall!” Marinette cried dramatically.

“I got you,” Luka assured, holding tight to her legs. “See, you’re okay. Everything’s okay.”

The young woman’s arms relaxed as she let out a sigh of relief. After several minutes, Marinette seemed to have forgotten her previous fear and gained comfort from her position on his shoulders. Unfortunately for Luka, the part of him that was not internally giddy for being so close to the girl of his dreams was regretting his decision.

Thick droplets of sweat started running down his forehead and back with the added weight, plus the scorching summer heat. Yet, he was resolute in keeping his stance. The concert was only one hour, after all.

* * *

The crowd let out its last scream as the lights turned on around them, signaling the end of the concert. Although Luka had gotten used to the weight already, it didn’t stop him from almost letting out a whine of relief when Marinette was back on the ground.

“That was awesome!” she squealed, as she made a twirl to look at him. “I’ve never had such an awesome view to—Woah, Luka, are you okay?”

“Yeah, why?” he panted.

“You’re sweating like crazy.”

Luka swiped a hand over his forehead. “Huh, look at that.” He pulled his hair back, in hopes to refresh his forehead. “Nothing a cold drink won’t fix. Right, Marinette? Marinette?”

She seemed to not hear him, her eyes trained on something above his eyes.

“Marinette?” he called again, loud enough to catch her attention.

“Ah! Sorry!” she squeaked. “Yeah, you’re hot—I mean, it’s hot! It’s very hot, something cold sounds great. Yeah, totally. We probably gotta move, where are the others?” Marinette asked, scanning the crowd.

“Dunno,” Luka muttered, searching for his phone. On the screen appeared a text message from his sister. In it, he read:

Juleka:

Sorry, we lost you in the crowd. Gonna go for some ice cream with Rose. Thank me later! ;)

He gulped. “They left already.”

“Without us?”

“They went on their own date, I guess.”

“O-Oh,” Marinette stammered. “I see … So, what are you going to do?”

“I—” He had been about to say he was going home. But it still felt much too early to do so. And he didn’t feel like spending the rest of the afternoon alone. “I think I will go for a walk.”

“Ah, I see.”

There was silence. Probably caused by Marinette’s usual indecision about saying what she wanted. Something Luka could already sense and decided to do the work for her.

“Marinette, would you like—”

“Can I join you?” she asked at the same time as him.

Luka blinked, this being the first time she barely hesitated to take the initiative with him. With a soft smile, he responded: “I would very much like that.”

* * *

After several hours and one stop for iced coffee, Luka and Marinette were walking by the edge of the Seine, lost in a melody of joyous laughter.

“Wait, you didn’t!” Luka exclaimed.

“I swear I was the only one who saw it,” Marinette laughed.

“And here I thought I was so sneaky, too.”

“Well, to be fair, I did make the costumes. I think it’s a given I would notice when there’s a piece missing.”

“It’s a good thing that show was not recorded,” Luka chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Wouldn’t want us going viral over a wardrobe malfunction instead of the music.”

“I don’t think it would’ve been so bad if it had,” Marinette responded in a sing-song tone. “Even if that had happened, it could’ve helped boost your popularity as a band. Especially with such a cute guitarist.”

Luka’s eyes widened, dead staring at her. Marinette seemed to have noticed what she said one second too late, for her cheeks turned dark red instantly. Lips pressed together, as if trying to stop them from saying something else they were forbidden from. Luka did his best to still his heart, pushing all hope aside. Just in case.

“Thank you?” he said, attempting to sound as cool as possible. And slightly failing.

“U-uh, you’re welcome?” Marinette said, just as awkwardly. “I-I mean, not that that’s all I think of you. You’re than more such—I mean, you’re so much more than that. You’re a great friend. Notthatyoucanonlybeafriend. I mean.” She took a deep breath. “I meant to say that you’re a great guy, more than looks.”

“That means a lot coming from you, Marinette,” Luka chuckled. “You don’t have to try to fix what you say with me. I know what you mean.”

“See what I mean?!” Marinette burst. “With you, I don’t have to try to explain myself. You just … You just get me! It’s so comfortable with you. And nice. And wonderful. And…”

She went silent. Again, holding back. Despite the words already spoken.

Luka placed his hands in his pockets. “You know,” he said, with a light smile, “anything you want to say, you can say it. No matter what it is, you know I’ll always listen.”

“I know,” Marinette whispered. “Some things are just hard to say.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I too think you’re an extraordinary person. But you already know that.”

“I do.” She placed a hand on his forearm, softly pulling it. It took Luka a minute to realize she was attempting to take his hand out of his pocket. He obliged as discreetly as possible. When the hand was fully out, she entwined her fingers between his.

Luka’s heart drummed louder, wondering if this was a sweet dream, or if it was as real as it felt.

“I really do,” Marinette said, looking directly into his eyes. She opened and closed her mouth several times. “I-I … I, um, I wanted to, uh, I wanted to say—”

Luka placed a finger over her lips. “You don’t have to say it. If you don’t feel comfortable with it, you don’t have to say it.”

“I want to,” she insisted. “I know you always know what I mean. But … Luka, I like you. As more than a friend.”

The air trapped itself inside his lungs. His heart was about to burst out of his ribcage. A celebratory melody rang out in his mind. He then understood why she wanted to say it: hearing the words made a world of difference. It felt different than simply suspecting. It made it real. It reminded him why he had been so forward in the first place, when he had the chance.

The hand that was still trapped in his pocket slid out, landing on her cheek. Luka couldn’t contain the excitement the words brought. He could feel a wide grin paint his face, but he didn’t care if it made him like a goofball.

“You have no idea how happy those words make me,” he said, letting out a shuddered breath and leaning to her lips.

There was a clatter on a nearby car, snapping them both out of the bubble they had built between themselves. Turning to the source of the sound, they found Rose scrambling to grab her phone that landed on the hood of a car where she seemed to have been hiding behind. Next to Rose were Juleka, Ivan, and Mylène unsuccessfully trying to take cover.

“Oh gosh,” Marinette whined, covering her face.

Luka chuckled. “You guys are not very good with the sneaking and spying.”

“I was so close,” Rose lamented, as Juleka gave her girlfriend a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

“Sorry!” Mylène waved a hand towards them. “We didn’t mean to interrupt you guys!”

“This is so embarrassing,” Marinette’s muffled voice said.

Luka looked between their friends and Marinette. He smiled and asked, “D’you wanna run?”

Marinette raised her head, with her lips in the shape of an ‘o.’ Without a second thought, she eagerly nodded. Luka grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the nearby bridge to run across it. Meanwhile, the rest of Kitty Section yelled at them to return.

“Where are we going?!” she panted.

“Wherever!” he responded, letting out a laugh. Marinette laughed too, just as eager to explore whatever it was that they had just started.

#mlwz #miraculous ladybug writer zine #once upon a season #miraculous ladybug #lukanette #marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine

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stevie-wicks · 3 years

Text

red, black and blue

She’d taken the photo in some empty parking lot in downtown LA, sunlight two years younger glinting off the hood of the Camaro. Billy’s moustache was still a couple of stray gold whiskers on his upper lip; his hair just past the tips of his unpierced ears. A different Billy to the one Hawkins had seen, but post-California Billy hadn’t had much time for Max’s amateur attempts at photography. Or for Max, in general.

“It’s a good photo.”

Jonathan Byers was not a formal wear kind of guy. He looked stiff and uncomfortable in his ugly suit- or maybe that was just an extension of how he was feeling. How they all were.

Max wrapped her hands around her elbows, suddenly regretting resisting her mother’s attempts to usher her into a jacket. “Thanks. I know he looks- different.”

Jonathan looked for a moment like he might offer her his ugly coat; then he probably remembered the uglier shirt he wore underneath. “He looks happier.”

“He was.” Max dug her nails into her skin. “He hated it here.”

Jonathan shoved his hands into his pockets. “Listen, Max; I know it’s not- it’s not really the same, but when I- when I thought Will was gone, I-” He swallowed. “Will is my best friend. I know that sounds really lame, but I just thought that. Maybe you’d feel better, or, I dunno. I know what it’s like.”

He was trying so hard. Max almost felt bad for him. “I don’t think you do.”

She’d wanted to sit next to Lucas, but her mom hadn’t. Some murmured nonsense about Neil not liking it; some louder nonsense about how they were a family and that now, more than ever, they had to stay together.

El became the compromise.

Not that Neil was gung-ho about El, either; not with the oversized flannel and suspenders she’d refused to change out of. Light blue eyes bore a hole into the side of Max’s head as she shuffled into the pew next to El. They weren’t the same shade of blue as Billy’s; he’d had more green to his, more like Max’s own. Neil’s were like ice chips.

A bony hand reached over, and Max looked up at Joyce Byers’s warm brown instead. “I’m sorry, sweetie,” she whispered.

Stupidly, Max said, “He owed you a plate.”

El stirred. “I owe him my life,” she said quietly.

The last funeral Max had been to had been for some distant Mayfield relative. She’d been six and she’d cried all the way to Glendale because she was missing Jabberjaw. Then Dad bought her an ice cream and she’d forgotten all about Jabberjaw. She fell asleep halfway through the service, and they got home in time for Speed Buggy.

Billy’s service took half as long and felt an eternity longer.

Mom had offered to do a eulogy. She’d brought it up over breakfast, nervous eyes darting between Max and Neil, as if either of them would put up a fight. She tottered to her feet now, shuffling awkwardly to the front, in a dress a few laundry cycles short of being grey. For a fleeting moment, Max wished she had put up a fight. Billy would’ve died-

Max bit her cheek hard enough to taste copper.

Mom cleared her throat. “Billy and I didn’t know each other for very long, but I wish we had. He was a wonderful young man.” She dabbed at her eyes with a ratty handkerchief.

Max sank back into her seat. Maybe it was for the best; she could never lie about Billy the way her mom did. Not when all she could think of was the blood- God, so much blood, his blood- his last scream torn out of his chest by misshapen claws- apologies on a dying breath-

She stood up. Mom paused midway between some crap about Billy’s ‘respect and responsibility’.

“Maxine,” Mom said, mortified.

“I have to go.” She tore outside, knuckling her burning eyes.

The breeze nipped at her skin. She leaned against the wall, rubbing her hands up her arms. It was mid-July, for Pete’s sake.

She should’ve worn the stupid jacket.

She wiped at her face roughly. When her vision cleared, Lucas stood in front of her.

“Your mom’s done talking, if you wanna head back inside.” He kicked at a pebble.

Max kicked it back. It skittered away, just out of Lucas’s reach. “Not really.”

He squared his shoulders. “Mind if I join you, then?”

She shrugged. He hesitated for a moment before sidling up next to her, arms barely brushing.

“Steve’s giving his speech now.”

Max’s eyebrows reached her scalp.

“For the basketball team,” Lucas clarified, then added, a little awkwardly, “None of the other guys showed up.”

It shouldn’t hurt, but. “Yeah, well. Didn’t think Steve would, either. He hated Billy’s guts.” She dug her heels into the gravel. “You all did.”

Lucas fell quiet. “I didn’t hate him.”

Max snorted. “’Cause you’re not supposed to hold grudges over people who are-” She blinked back a fresh wave of tears. God, Maxine; you’re such a goddamn girl, Billy would’ve said. “You should. He was awful to you.”

“I didn’t hate him,” he repeated. “I mean, he scared the shit out of me, sure. But still. He was your brother.”

“That’s not an excuse. And he was my step-”

“He was your brother.” Lucas had turned on his side, fully facing her now. “And I know you lo- cared about him. And I’m trying to tell you that it’s okay to cry.”

Her eyes welled with tears. She hadn’t allowed herself to; not since Starcourt, not since she’d read the twenty-eight other names in the paper, not since she’d come home in an ambulance and her brother in a casket and Neil locked up Billy’s room and tore down everything else that had belonged to his son and threw it all in the trash like he’d been waiting to get rid of it-

Lucas held out an arm. Max buried her face in his chest, clutching the fabric of his shirt and turning it translucent with her tears.

She cried long enough for her tear ducts to run dry, and then stood sniffling into the wet shirt. She was probably making it all gross with her snot, but she didn’t let herself get too torn up about it. The Sinclairs could afford a washing machine.

“Maxine.”

Max went rigid. Lucas, unbothered and oblivious, kept his arms around her. “Hey, Mr. Hargrove.”

She turned around slowly, just in time to catch the flicker of revulsion that passed over Neil’s face. “And who are you, boy?”

There was a painful pause. Max’s nails carved crescents into her palms.

“Lucas Sinclair, sir,” Lucas said at last.

Neil’s eyes were glacial. Max barely suppressed a shiver when they trained on her. “Maxine; something you learn when you grow older that there are a certain type of people in this world that you stay away from. And this boy?” Neil cut his gaze to Lucas. “This boy is one of them.”

Max reeled back. “I-”

“You stay away from my daughter, Sinclair; do you hear me?” Neil hadn’t raised his voice once since he’d started speaking. To any passers-by, this would look like a normal conversation. “Stay away.”

He didn’t wait for Lucas to respond, tugging Max away with a harsh grip on her wrist. She didn’t dare to turn around.

“I don’t want you anywhere near that boy, Maxine.” His hold loosened the closer they got to the car- Neil’s car, a respectable Ford sedan. She didn’t dare tug her hand free, either. “I hope you learn your lesson with this. Billy didn’t; not at first. I’m afraid I had to use more- forceful- methods with him. I trust I won’t have to do the same with you.”

Max turned to Neil despite herself. It was the first time he’d said Billy’s name since the Fourth of July.

His eyes gave nothing away. “Do I make myself clear?” His fingers tightened again.

“Yes, Papa.”

“Good.” Neil’s smile was a mirror of Billy’s; shark-like and vicious, moments away from tearing into your throat. “It’s about time you got some new friends, too. Girls your age shouldn’t be hanging around with boys too much.”

“El’s a girl,” Max told her shoes.

Neil scoffed. “Really? Did she show you proof?”

What happened to you, Mad Max? Billy would’ve asked. You’re not going to stand up for your little hick friends?

Or maybe-

I had to use more forceful methods with him - the bruises she’d see on Billy while his own knuckles remained unscathed- Mom whisking her away on impromptu shopping trips whenever Neil and Billy raised their voices- forceful methods -

- maybe he would understand.

★

Billy’s life couldn’t have fit into a garbage bag.

Max hadn’t gone into his room since she’d gone with El, but he had to have more than what Neil had thrown out onto the sidewalk. Outside the four walls of his room, it was like Billy hadn’t even existed.

She slipped out of bed in the quiet.

Billy had taught her how to pick a lock, back in California. “Use a hairpin, or somethin’- you got one of those?”

She unfurled her fingers. The hairpin was damp with sweat. She wiped it on her t-shirt, and slid it into the keyhole.

“Keep your big ears close to the door; you won’t hear squat that far away.”

She held her breath, pressing her ear to the cool wood.

“Wait for the sound- there, you hear that? That’s how you know the tumblers are in place.”

The door swung open with a soft click.

Max half expected to be assaulted by cigarette smoke and hair metal. But it had been almost a week, and all that Billy had left behind were stale air and silence.

She flicked on the flashlight. The blinds were drawn, the bed unmade, half his closet on the floor. Air the room out, and you could pretend he’d walk right in.

His schoolbooks balanced an ashtray; the desk was not for studying. Instead, he’d cluttered it with beer cans and tapes and a tree’s worth of loose-leaf.

She padded over and sat down in his chair, trying to imagine him hunched over the desk, scribbling on page after page in messy letters. Billy’s handwriting was just as angry as he was.

Her eyes flickered over song lyrics- snippets from the racket she’d been forced to sit through every weekday morning and afternoon. Somehow, silent car rides had lost their appeal.

Strange little doodles decorated the margins- band logos and cars and anatomically inaccurate depictions of women. “Gross,” Max said aloud, pushing the papers away with a theatric shudder.

The tabletop had not been exempted from Billy’s artistry; Max shone the flashlight on more band logos and cuss words and names engraved into the wood. Here there was a crude AC/DC logo, the lightning slash extending down to form the ‘t’ in ‘TWAT’. There was a ‘María’ right next to that, the accent mark angled in the wrong direction. Max remembered her; she’d gone out with Billy for all of sophomore year- the longest Max had ever seen him go out with one girl. She’d taught Max how to do makeup.

A few paces away was Tina- the prettiest girl in Hawkins High, everyone agreed- Laurie was a slut, but she’d complimented Max on her hair- and then Karen. Max traced the ‘K’; she didn’t know any Karens who went to Hawkins High- but then again, she barely knew all the kids in the middle school. There could be a pretty blonde cheerleader somewhere, talking to her friends over the phone. “Yeah, I went out with him a couple of times,” Max imagined her saying. She’d twirl a strand of hair around her finger, lips pulled down in a pout. “And now he’s dead. Spooky.”

She knuckled her eyes. The beam of the flashlight caught on the letter S.

She held the flashlight up, frowning at the name that made itself obvious. Stevie- except the ‘i’ was jammed haphazardly between the ‘v’ and the ‘e’, like it had been an afterthought.

She stared at it until the light flickered overhead.

“Shit!”

Max dropped the flashlight, head snapping back to the door. It hung ajar, just as she’d left it. Heart in her throat, she inched towards the doorway.

The hallway light flicked on.

Max held the flashlight close to her chest, knuckles bone-white and stark. She stepped outside, and the light turned on in the living room.

When she stood in the doorway, staring out at the lifeless room, the telephone started to ring.

Her feet felt heavy as cinderblocks. She plucked the receiver from its cradle, bringing it to her ear with shaking hands.

From the other side, someone breathed heavily.

Max pressed the phone closer, hard enough to hurt. “Billy?”

A crackle of static. Some peculiar noise.

Apologies on a dying breath.

Then, “Max.”

ao3

#stranger things #stranger things 2 #stranger things 3 #tw: death #tw: mentions of child abuse #tw: racism #max mayfield #billy hargrove #steve harrington #lucas sinclair #harringrove #lumax #el hopper #joyce byers #post season 3 #stranger things 4

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sandwichrin · 3 years

Text

A Little into You (Junkyu x Reader) (Ch. 20)

Chapter 20 - A little rivalry?

Word count: 4k words

Genre: Fanfiction, PG13, Comedy, Romance.

A/N: Hello! Gosh it feels so long since I last updated! Thank you for waiting, everyone. Hope you all enjoy this one.🧡

It had been an hour after your lunch with Chani, and of course you didn’t know about your friend’s trip to Bomin’s office after he dropped you off on your floor from the elevators earlier. You were growing restless since you had gone through your modules for the 4th time by now and the more you read the words in the papers, the more you swore you wanted to just throw up all the words onto the floors of the meeting room.

You leaned back into your chair, staring at your own reflection in the wall mirror that was opposite you. You could see how tired you look at this point, even your makeup couldn’t make your face look even more alive.

You sighed.

You suddenly miss your old post at your own office back in your company’s building. It fitted you well. All you had to do was receive orders from your higher ups and prepared materials for them. No matter how heavy the workload was, you enjoyed doing it all. Sometimes you even had to do clerical work even when it wasn’t in your job scope but hey, at least you were doing something. This new post you were given….this team you’re working in…it’s almost as if you had joined in simply because you were made to do so by your President, and of course, your team leader had requested for you to be transferred into your team.

Now, the question is, you have been in this team for almost 3 weeks and still, they only let you ran small errands for them. Do they not believe in your capabilities?

Of course, you didn’t know that the reason you had so little task to do was because Bomin had countlessly convinced Soomin that you weren’t qualified enough to work on them, hence, which led up to even this week’s tutor session being a big failure to you. You had no staff signing up to be under you. At this point, you were convinced that you weren’t needed at all in this team. Your insecurities drove up by the minute, and the more you stayed alone in your assigned meeting room, the more you keep telling yourself that maybe, just maybe, you should ask to be demoted to your old post.

You didn’t realise you had been gripping your module tightly the whole time you had been thinking to yourself, and by the time you had decided to get up from your chair, you were surprised to see the crumpled-up module in your hands.

You let go of the module and backed away from the table. Again, your eyes meet your lifeless reflection in the mirror. You shook your head and rashly head out of the meeting room.

“Junkyu, are you okay? You’ve been to the toilet twice since the last hour.” Hyunsuk asked, concerned seeing Junkyu informing that he’d be leaving for the restroom the third time now.

Junkyu flashed a sorry smile to his hyung and simply nodded, “I’m fine, hyung. I think I had too much ice cream earlier, that’s all,” he said, simply adding a reason of him going out of the practice room too many times in the last hour.

“Hmm, okay. It’s okay, we’ll work on your part when you get back then,”

“Alright.”

Junkyu left the practice room and closed the door behind him. His eyes gazed over the other side of the building, and of course, on the floor where he last spotted you.

Just as he was about to walk away from where he stood, he noticed a figure suddenly approaching the rails on the floor above on the other side.

Y/n!

He watches you as you grip the rails tightly, how you let out an exasperated sigh, making the sound echo throughout the halls—in which he was convinced only he could hear since he was the only person out in the open hallways.

Junkyu gulped to himself. This was it. He had been upset when he heard you mentioning Chani’s name yet again earlier during lunchtime, but then he didn’t want to waste this opportunity he had to make another interaction with you since he had been pretending to go to the restroom several times in the last hour just so hopefully, he would bump into you somewhere.

And this was it!

Sure, you’re both on different floors, but this was as good as it gets, he thought to himself.

Since when did he started craving for interactions with you, though?

Junkyu cautiously approaches the rails on his side of the hall and lifted his head to look at you. Now, how is he going to get you to look at him down here?

You on the other hand, were busy staring straight ahead at the empty hallways in front of you. All you wanted to do is just let time pass by quickly. You wanted to head home. Your motivation was draining and you admit that nothing can lift your mood right now.

Nothing.

Well, nothing that is until—

Beep!

You were surprised by the sudden notification sound coming from your phone. Pulling out your phone from your skirt’s pocket, you noticed a text from Junkyu.

“Hm?” you hummed to yourself.

(Text Conversation: Junkyu and Y/n):

Junkyu: You okay?

Y/n: Oh? I’m good. Why the sudden text?

Junkyu: I don’t know, I’m just wondering if you’re okay

Y/n: Lol. Go back to practice Junkyu.

Junkyu: I will. Look down for a while.

Y/n: ?

Junkyu’s text asking you look down makes you wonder what he meant by that. Your phone still in your hands, you glanced down to look at the floor where you last saw him that one morning.

A small gasp left your mouth when you saw him leaning against the railings opposite you, only a floor lower. That very same spot you saw him that morning.

And just like that morning, Junkyu raised his hand awkwardly to wave at you.

You blinked a couple times before raising your hand to wave back at him.

You were expecting him to maybe run off again like that time but instead, you were caught by surprise when you see him smiling at you.

You felt your heart skipped a beat. Literally.

You lowered your hand and placed it on your chest. Noticing that your chest stung a little from the sudden heart skip beat, you decided to just ignore it for now.

Your eyes looked back at Junkyu who was no longer waving at you by now. Instead, he was making random hand gestures, trying to communicate with you from afar.

You narrowed your eyes, trying to understand what he was saying.

Nope. This is bad. No matter how hard you tried to understand his body movements, he was moving too much for you to make sense of what he was saying. Instead, he looked like a moving mime to you at this moment.

You pursed your lips together, trying not to laugh at his repetitive movements, still not giving up on trying to make you understand what he was saying.

You shook your head at him and raised your phone, implying that you know, the both of you could just text each other instead of him making a goof out of himself out there with his random gestures.

Junkyu saw the phone in your hand and he shook his head back at you.

“No,” he mouthed.

This you understood.

You leaned forward towards the railings, wondering why Junkyu didn’t want to just text you instead.

Junkyu noticed you leaning in now, maybe trying to understand him.

He didn’t want to text you because he wanted to look at your expressions since he had the chance to see you out here, right now. If the both of you were to text each other, then he wouldn’t be able to have you looking at him like how you’re doing at the moment.

Junkyu raised both his hands to his shoulder and pointed at you, mouthing, “What are you doing there?”

He saw a small smile forming on your face. Maybe you understood him now?

You gestured back saying you were bored so you had come out to the hallways.

Junkyu nodded back at you, implying he understood you back.

“What are YOU doing out here?” You gestured.

Junkyu pointed to the right side of the hallways. “Restroom”

You scrunched your eyebrows. “What?? What are you doing standing there?! Go, deal with your business first!”

Your aggressive hand movements asking him to leave and use the restroom made him laugh. He thought that you looked cute trying to nag at him even with only using made-up sign languages towards him.

Junkyu couldn’t stop smiling watching you. And just as he was about to reply to your gestures, he heard the sound of the door behind him opening.

Junkyu turned around quickly, to see Asahi closing the door behind him.

Asahi saw Junkyu’s face showing terror, making him confused as to why his hyung was looking at him that way.

And then his eyes travelled towards the figure standing on the other side of the building.

A small knowing smirk formed on his lips.

Asahi patted his hyung’s back and whispered, “Don’t take too long with your love talk, hyung. They’re wondering why you hadn’t returned from the restrooms,”

“W-what?” Junkyu said, surprised to hear what Asahi just said.

“I’m going to the restrooms. Tell your girlfriend I said hi,” he simply said as he left Junkyu.

Junkyu could feel his face heat up. “H-hey! She’s not my girlfriend!”

Seeing that Asahi is no longer responding to him, Junkyu turned his attention back towards you, who was now showing a concerned expression on your face.

You pointed to the direction where Asahi had left to, and mouthed, “Is Asahi okay?”

Junkyu nodded at you. “Restrooms,” he mouthed.

“Ahh,”

Junkyu suddenly felt worried if any of his other members might come out to look for him if he took too long out here so he hurriedly gestured to you that he had to leave.

“I have to go, bye bye!” He gestured as he pointed at the door behind him.

“Okay,” you signalled with your fingers. Waving your hand at him, you mouthed “Bye,” at him.

You watched as he clumsily ran back into the practice room behind him, making you giggle at his cute antics.

Junkyu entered the practice room, closing the door behind him a little too hard.

The hard sound of the doors gained the attention of all the rest of his members.

“Are you okay, hyung?” Doyoung asked.

“Uh, yeah. I was just—I just wanted to hurry back. Sorry for the loud slam on the door,” he replied to his friend.

Junkyu walked towards where the rest of them were standing, all in their specific formation spot, practicing their moves on their own while waiting for Asahi to come back from the restrooms.

Junkyu looked around the room and started stretching some more just in case his warmup had worn off earlier.

Not long after that, the door to their practice room opened. Asahi enters with his usual emotionless expression.

“Ah great! All 12 are here now. I’ll give you all 10 more minutes then we can start with the first track again, aight?” Hyunsuk said.

All of his members nodded at this and started prepping for their practice.

Asahi passed by Junkyu as he was on his way towards his formation spot, and he managed to whisper to his hyung, “How was your love talk with your girlfriend, hyung?”

This made Junkyu stare at him in horror again. “W-what??”

Asahi smiled innocently, his deep dimple showing.

“Y-yah, Asahi, don’t say things like that,” Junkyu stammered.

“Oh? Why not? Was I wrong? Ah, you don’t like her?”

Junkyu fell speechless. First he had to endure Jihoon’s teasing and now, Asahi is teasing him too?? But how did Asahi know about him liking you??

Junkyu’s horrified expression made Asahi chuckle, and he pat his hyung’s back, trying to calm him down. “Hyung, relax. I know.” And with that, he hurried back to his own spot, leaving Junkyu baffled and confused as to what was going on around him.

“Kim Junkyu, why do you look like you’ve just seen a ghost? Here, here. Look here, we’re starting practice now,” Jihoon said as he noticed his best friend’s reflection from the mirror.

Junkyu blinked several times to bring his focus back on practice. “Okay, I’m present!” he announced randomly, making few of his other members giggling at his random chant.

(The next day)

The next day came along, and Junkyu had made it a point to wake up early today.

Why?

Well, he was planning to get himself some breakfast from that one fried sandwiches shop which was around 2 blocks further from their company building. Seeing that it might take some time for him to get there and wait for his order to complete—and then return to their company after that, he figured that he might as well just leave early.

Junkyu pulled on his Fila jacket over his white tshirt, paired with his black sweatpants and then he grabbed his yellow Treasure sling bag he’s always used, keeping his phone, hand sanitizer and wallet into it.

He was about to leave his room when he turned around to quickly grab one of his small perfume bottles to be kept into his bag.

As he exited his bedroom, he bumped into Yoshi who had just woken up.

Yoshi rubbed his eyes, noticing that his friend had already gotten dressed and looked like he was about to leave home already. “Junkyu? Why are you up this early?? Are you leaving for work already??”

“Hyung! I uh, yeah. I’m leaving early today, actually.”

“You going to the company with Jihoon-hyung?”

“No…I’m just going alone,”

Yoshi looked at Junkyu in a surprised manner. “Wow, that’s rare of you to go alone this early,”

Junkyu smiled apologetically at his hyung.

“Ahh, I get it. You must be working on that song of yours, right? You must have caught onto some inspirations last night so that’s why you’re going to the studio this early,” Yoshi said, making his own guess that maybe Junkyu wanted to work in their studio this early.

“I guess—”

“Well, don’t let me stop you. Hwaiting, Junkyu!” Yoshi said cheerfully before he proceeded to his own room, covering his mouth as he yawns out loud.

“Ookay…” Junkyu said to himself.

YGE Building (4th floor) – 9.07 a.m.

You stepped out of the elevators on your floor, making your way towards your meeting room.

Your steps were slow and slightly demotivated to be honest, because once again, you would have to sit in that empty room and stare at the goddamn modules all over again whilst your own reflection would be watching you do all that from that large wall mirror placed against the walls opposite your usual seat.

“Wednesday, today. It’s okay, y/n, just another 2 more days and then you’ll have the weekend to yourself,” you sighed to yourself as you walk.

Beep! A message notification sounded from your phone in your bag.

You stopped walking to search for your phone in your unorganised bag, hoping that it’s not your team leader telling you that she had noticed your lateness to work today.

You breathed a sigh of relief when you saw that it wasn’t Soomin, but instead, it was Junkyu.

“That’s strange. Junkyu’s never texted me in the morning,” you said to yourself as you pressed your thumb against your phone’s home key, unlocking it to view the text. Now that you thought about it, the first time Junkyu had ever texted you personally was yesterday.

Chatroom (Y/n and Junkyu):

Junkyu: Hey, you at work already?

Y/n: Hm? Yeah, I’ve just arrived on my floor. Why?

Junkyu: Okay. I’ve just reached the main entrance of the building. I’ll go to your meeting room in a bit.

Y/n: Erm, sure?? Wait, why are you suddenly coming over? What’s going on??

You stood in the empty hallways, waiting for Junkyu’s reply. But then, as 5 minutes passed by, you still hadn’t received any response from him.

You wondered if something had happened to him or any of his members. He seemed so serious in the text, so maybe he wanted to ask you for help on something? It’s not impossible for that to happen since the dynamic of your friendship with the Treasure members mostly were derived from you all helping one another.

You shrugged to yourself and kept your phone into your bag again, deciding to just head to your meeting room first and think about whatever that was coming from Junkyu later on.

As you approached your meeting room, you felt a strange feeling creeping on you. You couldn’t grasp what it was but this feeling was making you uncomfortable.

You twisted the doorknob of your meeting room, your eyes meeting the dark room, since you had to manually press on the light switches beside the door.

You sighed as you thought of another long day at work in this room. You stepped inside, leaving the door slightly ajar to help light up the room slightly as you attended to the light and air conditioner switches beside the door.

As soon as the lights went on, you heard a voice speaking up—

“You’re late, Miss Y/n.”

You felt chills all over your back when you heard that voice.

Chani was taken aback when he saw your bag flying towards him. He quickly caught it in his hands, saving your bag from hitting the floor instead.

His eyes glanced over to you, who was kneeling on the ground, eyes closed and your head ducked down facing the floors.

“Please, please, please. Take whatever you want from the bag but please just don’t kill me,” you muttered loudly.

Chani was too startled to even say anything. Did you think he was a freak that had broke into the office and was gonna rob you??

Okay but to think back, he had been waiting in the dark for half an hour, waiting for you to arrive and it certainly didn’t help that he had used a different tone of voice to call out to you when you first entered the room earlier. Okay damn, maybe that is kind of creepy to experience if he was in your shoes.

Chani stood up from where he was sitting and placed your bag onto the table.

Slowly, he approached you, not wanting to scare you. He knelt down to where you were and your eyes remained shut, not wanting to look at him.

“Y/n…”

“Please, please. Please don’t,” you begged, still.

Chani placed his hand on your shoulder, earning a scream from you. Chani, not wanting your scream to cause any misunderstandings from the people in the building, hurriedly shook your shoulders, “Hey, hey, it’s me. It’s me, CHANI,” his voice raising by now, trying to snap you back into reality.

Your eyes snapped open when you heard Chani saying this.

“Ch-Chani?” you said, slightly panting from the scream you made earlier.

Chani’s grip on your shoulders remained strong, but his voice was softer now, “Yes, it’s me.”

“Oh…” You looked around you and noticed that the both of you were on the floor. You pulled his hands away from you as you tried to get up from your position.

Chani stood up as well, his height looming over yours once again.

“What the heck was that about?” he questioned.

“What?”

“Earlier. You literally threw your bag at me and started screaming like as if someone was trying to murder you,”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “W-what about it?? I was just being defensive!”

Chani chuckled. “That is no way to defend yourself.” He lets out a sigh before saying, “I guess there’s more I need to teach you,” his hands patting your head now.

You rolled your eyes at him and scowled at him. “What are you doing here, Chani?”

“Oh? Wouldn’t you like to know?” he smiled at you.

You looked over at the table not far from the both of you and noticed a medium-sized paper bag with a familiar symbol printed on it.

“Oh my god,” you chuckled. “You brought McDonald’s breakfast for me?”

“For us, you mean,” he said, a smug smile on his face now that he had succeeded in making you smile.

“Huh. We’ve been having lunch together everyday Chani. And now you’re sticking with me for breakfast too? Tsk tsk, isn’t that too much?” You said, folding your arms against your chest.

“Believe me, Y/n. Breakfast and lunch isn’t the only time you’ll be seeing me,” he said with a smirk.

“Whatever do you mean by that?”

But then, before you could hear Chani’s response to your question, you heard the door to your meeting room getting knocked on.

“Who is it?” You asked, turning around.

“It’s me,” the familiar, spongey voice sounded from the other side of the door.

“Oh hey, come on in!”

The doorknob twisted, opening the door and Junkyu’s head popped up inside the room.

“Y/n, look! I brought breakfast—” he stopped his words when he fully entered the room to see Chani standing behind you.

Chani smiled brightly when he saw Junkyu. “Hyung! What are you doing here so early??”

“I…” Junkyu’s eyes trailed over towards the McDonald’s paper bag on the table not far from you and Chani. His head lowers down to look at the paper bag he was holding.

You noticed the paper bag in his hands and suddenly you understood what was going on. Junkyu had texted you because he must’ve wanted to share his breakfast with you!

“Junkyu! What’s that in your hands? It smells good!” You said, smiling.

“Oh, I uh, I left home early today. And I, I thought that you were always early to work so I thought of just getting some breakfast for the both of us since I don’t have anything to do yet this morning,”

“Aw, that’s so sweet of you, Junkyu. I would love to have breakfast with you,” you said cheerfully.

This earned you a warm smile from Junkyu.

You were about to approach Junkyu when in all of a sudden you felt a hand holding onto your shoulder.

“Oh, hyung? What a coincidence. I came to work early to have breakfast with y/n too,”

Junkyu’s smile faltered. His grip on the paper bag in his hands tightened. He could see through the smile Chani was giving him. It wasn’t the same smile Chani had always given him. His smile was no longer cheerful, instead, it seemed…intimidating.

This guy wouldn’t let y/n go this easily, he thought.

Chani on the other hand, felt annoyed that Junkyu had interrupted his moment with you. He literally woke up early, got to work early, waited in this dark stuffy room alone just so he could have his breakfast with you. And then Junkyu came in with his tall, good-looking features and giving you his well-known charming smile, and suddenly you were completely swooned over. Now this is annoying.

“Oh come on you two. What are you both blabbering about? Let’s just all have breakfast together,” you said, pulling them both back to reality from their piercing glares at each other.

Again, you tried to walk towards Junkyu, but Chani’s strong grip on your shoulder made you stay in place. It’s almost as if your heels were planted to the floors right now.

“What are you talking about, y/n? I was here first,” Chani said, his eyes still glaring at Junkyu.

Junkyu pursed his lips together, feeling anger creeping up on him. He didn’t like how Chani was claiming you.

“Sure Chani. You were here first. But I met y/n first,” Junkyu said in a sharp tone.

You could feel the tension in the room rising and to be honest, it made you uncomfortable as hell. What in the world is going on with both of your friends right now??

To be Continued…

#treasure #treasure fanfic #TREASURE IMAGINE #treasurefic #treasuremembers #treasure members #alltreasuremembers #all treasure members #JunKyu #kim junkyu #junkyu x reader #junkyu scenarios #kimjunkyu #kim junkyu x reader #kimjunkyu x reader #ALIY #sandwichrin

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trixicbean · 3 years

Note

🔥 for Supercorp :)

🔥: slow dancing [prompt list] [read on ao3]

Lena hated galas with her whole heart. Why would someone invent something so mean and torturous? It was a room full of old white men that she had to have a conversation with. Old white men and conversation really shouldn’t be allowed in the same sentence. And then they just decided to make Lena’s bad day even worse.

She had to dance at the gala.

This was any sane person’s idea of fun.

“Can you even dance?” Kara asked as Lena finished her long string of complaints. They were eating ice cream on the couch in a break between movie night movies. They’d just finished Princess Diaries and they were moving onto Princess Diaries 2 as an essential part of Lena’s movie education, according to one Kara Danvers.

“Of course I can. I’m a Luthor,” Lena sighed, taking a spoonful of ice cream before she slipped into an impression of Lillian, “If you don’t learn how to dance, Lena, you’ll never get anywhere in life,” Lena slipped out of the impression, “I had lessons from the age of five to the age twelve,”.

“You must be amazing then,” Kara smiled brightly.

Lena burst out in laughter, “I’m terrible, that’s why they went on so long. Believe it or not, it took me a while to get used wearing heels,”.

Kara choked on her ice cream for a second but Lena chose to ignore it. “I haven’t danced like that since Lex’s galas and I would use Jack as an excuse to make sure I could say ‘no’ when people asked me for a dance,” she went on.

“I’m hearing you need a date,” Kara laughed, she sounded a little nervous.

“Sam’s bad enough,” Lena pointed her spoon at Kara threateningly, “You are not trying to set me up with every breathing woman as well,”. There was really only one woman she wanted to date.

Kara coughed again, “Old white men would be okay with you taking a woman,”.

“No,” Lena smiled smugly, “That’s why I’m going to take one,” Lena thought for a second, taking a slow spoonful of ice cream. “I just need to find someone willing to take a Luthor,” she added slowly, pushing the ice cream around the pot.

“Youcouldtakeme,” the indecipherable sound came from Kara’s mouth. Could she use superspeed to speak fast?

“What?” Lena asked, looking up at Kara.

“You could take me,” Kara shrugged. Lena’s heart beat a little faster. She wasn’t going to take her best friend as a date when she was hopelessly and irrevocably in love with her. “You know as friends,” Kara added hurriedly and Lena’s heart sunk.

“You don’t want to be seen dating a Luthor,” Lena shook her head. It was true, the press brutally destroyed anyone she had ever dated, or supposedly dated. It was why it was such a shock her and Jack had lasted that long. The woman had been, in the past, more protected though as they just became her ‘gal-pals’ or ‘close friends’ but that was before she came out.

“I do,” Kara replied quickly with a huge smiled, “You’re my best friend why wouldn’t I want to be seen with you?”.

Lena shook her head, “I’m me and you’re you,”.

“Please,” Kara pouted, bringing out the puppy dog eyes, “It’s easier than you finding someone else,”. Lena could barely comprehend the situation. She, Lena Luthor hopelessly in love with Kara Danvers for the last five years, was having to be begged by aforementioned Kara Danvers so she would take her on a fake date. Why was Lena even considering saying no? One fake night would be better than nothing at all.

“Fine,” she sighed, “You can be my date,”. Pretend not to be excited about it. Pretend not to be excited about it. Lena repeated the words round and round again in her head.

Kara smiled brightly, her eyes lighting up. “Don’t be so excited,” Lena laughed, “We probably need to practice at some point,”.

“Are you suggesting that spending more time with you is a negative thing?” Kara laughed, “We could even practice now,”.

Lena looked down at her outfit. She was wearing sports leggings and Kara’s NCU hoodie. She looked over at Kara, she was wearing sweatpants and a soft long-sleeved jumper meets t-shirt. “Really?”.

“Why not?” Kara stood up, putting the ice cream down on the table and taking Lena’s out of her hands and putting it next to hers. She offered her hand out to Lena with a smile.

“Have you seen what we’re wearing?” Lena asked.

“It’s perfect,” Kara smiled, taking a hold of Lena’s hand. Lena shook her head with a laugh and Kara’s face morphed into a pout in response. “Please,” she begged.

Lena took a deep breath. How could she refuse that face? She pulled on Kara’s hand standing up and Kara pulled her out into the empty space between the couch and dining room table with a huge smile. She dropped her hand before speeding off and returning, depositing a speaker on the table and holding her phone.

“Any song ideas? Don’t know any slow dancing songs,” she smiled widely.

“Neither do I,” Lena shrugged as Kara’s face morphed into a huge smile.

“There’s a Spotify playlist,” she smiled brightly, clicking a button and placing her phone back down next to her speaker. Adele’s Make You Feel My Love started to play from the speaker.

Kara stepped closer to Lena as she began to sing. They both automatically went to the non-leading position, going to place their hands on each other’s right shoulder. Lena laughed awkwardly ducking her head to avoid Kara’s intense gaze.

“You should-” they both went to speak at the same time. “You-” they both tried again. Lena shook her head with another awkward laugh before she took a deep breath, waiting for Kara to speak. She seemed to be waiting for her to do the same thing. “You-” she said, cutting herself off as Kara spoke at the same time.

“I don’t think it’s meant to be this awkward,” Kara laughed nervously.

“I really don’t think it is,” Lena smiled, “You should lead,”.

“Are you sure?” Kara checked, “You’re probably a better dancer,”.

“Kara, just lead,” Lena told her and Kara turned a little redder. Lena tried not to think anything of it.

“Is it okay if I touch you?” Kara checked, her hand hovering just over where it should be on her back.

“Yeah,” Lena smiled and Kara’s hand rested on her back and she was pulled closer to Kara so they were only two feet away from each other. She tried not to think about the electricity following through her veins all leading off that one spot.

She gingerly placed her hand on Kara’s right shoulder, moving them just a little bit closer together. She sucked in a breath. She really should’ve thought this through.

Kara’s hand was reaching for her other, gently threading their fingers together and bringing her arm up so it was held at Lena’s eye level and adjusting their hand position so they just grasped each other, just because it was more comfortable. Lena watched the whole thing carefully, her eyes glued on their joined hands. Then their hands were coming closer to Lena and while their hands were still grasped together one of Kara’s fingers found itself underneath Lena’s chin.

Her breath hitched in her throat as her head was turned so she looked directly at Kara. It felt as though those blue eyes were looking directly into her soul. She took a deep breath as she tried to calm herself, then Kara spoke. It was quiet and low yet deep and almost husking. Lena tried not to think about what it did to her body as she took another deep breath, focusing on Kara’s words.

“You are meant to focus on your partner when you dance,” Kara whispered, bringing their hands back to where they were supposed to be. Lena looked at Kara in the eyes properly. Her heart sped up a little more. Kara had superhearing, she knew she could hear it. She just prayed Kara wouldn’t notice.

“Are you okay?” Kara whispered, her voice softer and more gentle than it had been before. Lena cursed herself. Stupid, useless lesbian with an unrequited crush on her best friend.

“I’m fine,” she choked out, shaking her head and willing Kara not to press any further. She didn’t instead her hand started to guide Lena. Kara stepped the left and brought her right foot over and Lena mirrored the movements, just a millisecond behind as Kara spun them around and did the same footwork again, adding another step. Lena settled into Kara’s pattern and stopped focusing on her feet to look back up at her best friend.

How was it that Kara was this beautiful in sweats? Her hair up in a messy bun that perfectly framed her face and her eyes shining so brightly. The glasses had come off and she looked not like Kara Danvers and not like Supergirl. A version of Kara only a few people were privy to. Lena’s Kara. Kara Zor-El. She smiled softly at Lena as she moved again in the circle and Lena smiled back.

Then Kara started to sing softly along with the music. Lena should’ve been expecting it. It was Kara and music but the way that she sang while looking so deeply into Lena’s eyes it felt like each word that left Kara’s mouth was being sung for Lena, directly to Lena.

But they weren’t. It never would be because Kara was her best friend and nothing more and she knew that but the lyrics didn’t make it any easier.

I'd go hungry, I'd go black and blue I'd go crawling down the avenue No, there's nothing that I wouldn't do To make you feel my love

The lyrics weren’t about her. Kara could never love her back. She was Lena Luthor and she was Kara Danvers, Kara Zor-El, Supergirl. She was everything and Lena was nothing. She’d never love Lena. Lena would never be anything more than Kara’s best friend and she could live with that. As long as she’s near her Lena could live with anything. A life with Kara was a million times better than one without.

The storms are raging on the rolling sea And on the highway of regret Though winds of change are throwing wild and free You ain't seen nothing like me yet

Kara carried on singing softly. The lyrics were so true. She had never seen anything like Kara. She focused more on the woman in front of her. She was looking so deeply into Lena’s eyes and Lena swore for a second she saw Kara’s eyes dart to look at her lips. She was just dreaming. Imagining what she wanted to see.

She gripped Kara a little tighter and found Kara pulling her just an inch closer as they kept moving, their heads almost instinctively moving closer together so their faces were just inches apart. Lena’s breath hitched again in her throat as her heart sped up again, thundering in her ears but it went away as Kara’s beautiful voice broke through the thunder to bring her into a reverie.

The words seeming more sincere than they ever were before as Kara sang them so softly and so beautifully. Hitting every note with expert precision.

I could make you happy, make your dreams come true Nothing that I wouldn't do Go to the ends of the Earth for you To make you feel my love

It was nearing the end of the song and Kara slowed the steps, bringing Lena even closer, their faces so close Lena could feel Kara’s breath ghosting over her lips. Everything else around her forgotten as it was just them in that moment. No background music and just Kara’s voice guiding them as she sang the last line with so much sincerity it couldn’t be about Lena.

To make you feel my love

The breath that left with each word ghosted over Lena’s lips, each word so much more exaggerated and true as she felt each of them said. They washed over her. She could barely breathe.

“Kara,” she whispered as the song ended and the room fell so quiet yet everything was so loud.

“Lena,” came the whispered reply. Neither of them made any move to leave. In fact, Lena found herself dropping Kara’s hand so she could pull her closer. Kara’s hand found her waist and pulling Lena closer as Lena joined her hands behind Kara’s head.

Kara sucked in a deep breath as she pulled even closer so their bodies touched, flush against each other. Her head bent over Lena’s slightly. It felt so natural, both of them just following instinct and the flow of nature. Lena took a deep breath and her eyes darted down to look at Kara’s lips for just a second and she looked back up into Kara’s eyes and watched the realisation dawn over her best friend.

“Lena,” her name left Kara’s mouth like she was trying to hold on to every syllable forever.

“Kara,” Lena echoed, moving just a little closer. Her mind was in conflict. She couldn’t catch a single one of the thoughts firing so something acted outside her mind, outside the instruction of her brain. “Just kiss me,” the words left her mouth as she threw everything in the space between them.

There was a beat and a breath and then Kara’s lips were meeting Lena’s in a kiss so tentative and chaste. Both so afraid of a loss of what they already had. A loss of something so perfect and good.

Then a beat passed and Lena’s hands had threaded into Kara’s hair and the kiss became more insistent and desperate. Like coming up for hair after years underwater and so many feeling and emotions trying to channel in one kiss.

Five years of emotion in one kiss. It was the perfect kiss though. Kara’s lips so soft because of course she wouldn’t be anything but perfect at this too. It was everything. They were everything.

They pulled apart to catch a breath and they found themselves pressing their foreheads together as they both took a breath and then Kara was looking into Lena’s eyes again and it felt those blue eyes looking into her soul.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Kara whispered, still a little breathless.

“I think I might have some idea,” Lena laughed, pressing another kiss to her lips chastely and quickly just because she could. Just because she finally could.

#kara danvers #lena luthor #kara x lena #lena x kara #supercorp #supercorp fic #supergirl #sgcw #supergirl cw #katie mcgrath #kashy mcgra #melissa benoist #kara zor-el #wlw #lesbian #avery writes

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cloudsnbones · 3 years

Note

Here is a selection for your lovely self to choose from <3

50, 63 or 110 please 🥺 For Kerry...Susan...the wives - you know ofc.

My Hidden Angel

prompt 110: just pretend we’re okay, just for tonight

warnings: mild alcohol consumption, touches on topic of 'outing', some references to suicidal ideation

other tags: kerry x sandy (before), kerry x susan (implied), kerry & susan, hurt/comfort, hugs

Kerry’s eyes traced the mulberry patterns intertwine then separate then briefly meet together again followed by a small gap before they finally made themselves whole, ending in solid semi-circles at the opposite end of the duvet, striking loud against the cream which predominated the piece.

She was supposed to be happy, finally released loud and proud into society, herself - different, yet still beautiful. So what was wrong with her? Because she didn’t feel like that. She didn’t feel like that at all. The burning in her throat came in waves of strength whilst her heart felt like a large block of ice that had plummeted into her stomach. As for the rest of her body, it all just felt numb. Numb and useless. For the first time in a long time, she felt small, really small. Peering eyes had followed her throughout the ER as she tried to pretend that everything was ok, that she had wanted that to happen. That… what they thought didn’t matter to her. She was their boss after all. It shouldn’t.

But if she couldn’t even convince herself, how on earth could she convince anyone else?

After leaving work she had stormed over to the Fire Station where Sandy worked to give her a piece of her mind, chew her, and spit her out as Sandy had done to her. Returning the favour. But she had been left feeling even worse.

Even more hated and alone than she had before which was something considering… everything.

And she knew that if she passed away in her sleep, no one would care. No one would come to her funeral, no one would mourn. And as devastating as that is, she felt at peace. For once in her damn life, she wanted to be quiet. To hide. To return back into her bulletproof shell and never leave.

There was a light tap on the door.

Kerry ignored it. It could wait. Probably a door-to-door salesperson. Not worth her time.

A slightly louder knock followed, and then a loud buzz.

This now seemed more like a person, perhaps… Sandy?

Kerry’s heart fluttered in hope. And it was this alone which eventually forced her to get one and then two legs out of bed, wrapping her body tightly in her silk dressing gown before slowly making her way to the door, leaning on nearby furniture to do so.

When Kerry got to the door she took in a small breath, closing her eyes to rack up the courage to be able to speak coherently in front of her again. She didn’t want to relax her guard, or to let her anger completely ease off but what she really didn't want - was to be alone. And it was this sole urge for companionship that drove her resolve to forgive Sandy. She had found herself in the past year and despite her still wavering confidence in her sexuality she couldn't deny that she had never felt more complete, more understood, lighter, and happier since she had discovered she was a…

Lesbian.

In one quick movement, she turned her key in the lock and pushed down the door handle pulling it towards her, she opened her eyes expecting to see Sandy on the other side apologetic and soft but instead she saw someone whom she did not expect. Dr. Lewis.

“I-” Kerry started, her face dumbfounded.

Susan just smiled, 75% convincingly, holding up a bag to her face filled with a lovely aroma of spices.

Kerry looked at her suspiciously.

“I’ve brought you dinner,” Susan said, after a beat, trying to ignore the deep feelings of anger and frustration which she had always associated with Kerry.

“Oh thank you,” Kerry replied eventually, peering at the bag from where she was standing, frozen to the spot, “Why don’t you come in?” She added awkwardly her voice catching on the words and she squinted her nose and eyes slightly in embarrassment of herself, letting out a small sigh.

Susan just continued to smile and stepped into the door as Kerry shuffled out of the way before she closed the door.

“Please come on through.” Kerry said, “oh, and shoes off before you come in please.”

Susan had expected that to be the case, she smiled playfully to herself as she slid her shoes off.

Kerry stood, watching her uncomfortably, wondering what she would do and also questioning as to why this had happened in the first place. She bit her lip and curled her right ankle around to scratch at the back of her calf, which wasn’t the best idea as within seconds she began to lose her balance. Before she really had the opportunity to fall or to steady herself, Susan caught her outstretched arms ensuring she stayed strictly upright.

Kerry was shocked. Not only by the sudden contact but also of the position she was in with regards to Susan. She was staring directly at Susan’s chest. Well, where her chest was below her periwinkle jumper. Her eyes widened and she raised her head to look at Susan before shaking herself back into reality and straightening up allowing Susan to let go of her arms. Despite this, the place where she had touched her, burned.

When Kerry looked back at Susan she noticed her empty hands. But where was the food? Oh, Susan had just placed the bag on the floor. She needed to get a grip.

Kerry made to brush off her slacks only to find silky material there instead and that is when she realised that she was in fact not wearing her day clothes at all but her night-time things, and her cheeks began to glow red.

But Susan didn’t care, she just picked up her takeout bag and gestured towards the entrance to the living room, “This way?”

Kerry swallowed and then nodded, a bit too fiercely. Susan smiled and Kerry followed her into the living room.

“Do you have any films?” Susan asked as she sat herself down on the sofa.

“What do you mean?”

“Just… films.”

“Yeah, I mean, uh… kinda, maybe not the type you’re thinking of though...” Kerry’s voice tailed off.

“That’s alright, we can just watch whatever’s on.”

Kerry stood, passively watching Susan turn on the tv and set out the food she had brought with her onto the table before her. After a moment it registered that this may appear strange so in a hurried shuffle made her way to sit down next to Susan. She placed her hands politely on her knees and looked pointedly at the carpet in front of her. Susan glanced over.

“Are you alright?” She wondered aloud, a touch of a laugh in her voice.

Kerry furrowed her eyebrows, her mouth twitching in tandem, “Yeah, I-” she let herself process what she wanted to express before she turned abruptly round to Susan and queried, “Why are you here?”

The harshness of her voice and the absence of friendliness in Kerry’s general demeanour led Susan to feel as if she was being interrogated, as if she wasn’t welcome in Kerry’s home, and by breaching this unspoken contract of keeping distance between employer and employee she had perhaps angered the beast without intending to. It would not be the first time. But as she took her time to consider Kerry’s apparel, the soft plea in her eyes, and her stiff, clunky posture, the way she glanced at her leg every so often as if she was worried something would happen to it. But what could it possibly undergo? Except… judgement. Kerry’s defensiveness, her ferocity, so present in Susan’s life as a constant adherence and annoyance was down to experiences like she had had today. Susan could see that now. She knew that in the past she had only helped contribute but today maybe she could change that, but first, she needed Kerry to trust her.

Susan relaxed her shoulders and placed the empty take-out bag onto the floor underneath the sofa before she began.

“To cut a long story short; I’m bi.” She looked up to catch her eyes with Kerry’s as if to prove she was telling the truth before she continued, “And, when I was in high school, there was this most beautiful girl, she had dark hair and the pinkest lips and her voice always sounded like she was singing.” Susan closed her eyes, reminiscing.

“We were best friends, her and I, and we did everything together. I was intoxicated, but there was nothing I could have really done about it. I had a massive crush on her. I don’t know how they knew, perhaps I hadn’t hidden it as well as I’d thought but some of the boys in my year started teasing me about it, asking if I was a ‘lesbigay or whatever, and when I obviously didn’t respond and got embarrassed they um, they decided to announce it to the whole school.”

Kerry’s mouth opened, stunned into silence. This wasn’t what she had expected at all! Setting aside the fact that Susan was also gay, Kerry listened to her story with deep compassion, and horror. She tried to express her sympathies but only managed to stare at Susan wide-eyed and she hoped that the empathy she felt in her heart managed to express itself well enough on her face.

After looking at Kerry's face, Susan continued, “Yeah, it was pretty terrible, I lost a lot of friends that year. But um...” She paused for a second, considering her next words. “The thing that happened to you today reminded me of that and I couldn’t rest easy staying at home and thinking about it so I came over and did what I wish someone, a friend, or a parent even, had done when I was in that state. Because it is tough, and it is lonely. And no matter the shit that’s happened between us in the past, no one deserves that, no one. So as allies, I guess, let’s just pretend everything’s okay, just for tonight.” Susan smiled at Kerry then, and the redhead began to understand how much she had needed a friend, someone who would accept her, and understand why she had to hide. Someone to let her know she wasn’t alone.

“But anyway!” Susan clapped her hands together with a new-found cheerfulness instilled in her, disrupting the melancholy mood immediately. “Let’s eat!”

Throughout the evening they talked very little, making mild comments on the hallmark movies or about the food, and Kerry eventually found the strength to thank Susan for her kindness. Once the meal was over, Kerry produced a bottle of Pinot Grigio for the two to share and despite Susan’s inner voice telling her to ‘go home’ she accepted the offer. The alcohol loosened Kerry’s tongue and she was no longer sat like a meerkat on the lookout but instead as if she was spending an evening with a friend. Susan let Kerry cry and rested her head on her, oh the softness of the cashmere against Kerry’s cheek as she buried herself deep in Susan’s softness.

They stayed in that position for a while, even once Kerry’s crying had ceased, Susan would rub her hand up and down her bank comforting her and reminding her that someone was there. Someone who cared about her, who understood her.

The intimacy and the alcohol and the events of the day meant that once Kerry ultimately did lift her head up and came face to face with Susan, so close she could almost feel the light hairs on her face, she was overcome with this urge to kiss her. Not a rough kiss, nor a gentle kiss, more a kiss goodbye or hello, a kiss saying thank you. Her hand tenderly stroking Susan's jawline, suggesting the act was about more than just lust or circumstance.

At first, Susan lent into it, Kerry’s taste being much calmer than she had expected, but once she realised what was happening she pulled herself out of it, gently, so as not to potentially hurt Kerry.

Susan smiled a sweet smile, slightly flushed as if she was sixteen once more and encountering her crush in the cafeteria. “You’re a really good kisser,” she observed trying to relieve some of the deep mortification evident on Kerry’s face, “But not tonight.”

She helped Kerry to her bed before setting herself down on the couch and continued to grin, touching her fingertips lightly to her lips where Kerry had kissed her.

Not tonight, but next time...?

#susan lewis x kerry weaver #kerry weaver #er #nbc er #susan lewis #kerry x susan #kerry weaver x susan lewis #susan x kerry #kerry weaver x sandy lopez #kerry x sandy #hurt/comfort #wine #movies #every good thing #my writing

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valkyrieskwad · 4 years

Text

here ya go, have some like, awkward college baby gays.

when sam planned out her apology, the last person she expected to answer kara's door was lena. as in, lena from the halloween party who she had sex with. but, there she is. wearing nothing but kara's flannel, looking pretty and fucking soft. this is the first time sam's seen her up close in good lighting, not drunk off her ass, and all she can focus on are her eyes. they're different colors.

"hello?" lena says after a second.

right. "is kara here?" sam asks. it's too aggressive, but she feels a little off-kilter looking at lena. she's here to apologize, though, she reminds herself. "can you tell her i'm not here to fight, and i know she hears me."

"she's actually not here," lena says, stepping out of the way to pull the door open wider. "but you're welcome to come in and wait for her. it's good to see you. you look really good."

"you remember me?" sam asks, like a fucking idiot. lena laughs a little. "right," she gushes, scratching at the back of her neck. she steps inside the room and lets lena shut the door behind her. it feels easier talking when she's not making eye contact. "i didn’t mean it that way. it's just that you're—"

"don't say something dumb," lena cuts her off. "i like you, don't ruin it."

sam fights the urge to repeat you like me incredulously. instead, she walks over to take a seat on kara's bed and tries not to think too much about sitting on kara's bed. where kara probably had sex with lena. maybe even right before this. of course, she's still managing to think about it. "so, you and kara. you a thing or something?"

lena shrugs, leans her hip against the standard edition dorm room desk. "or something."

there's a really awkward pause. then, "cool," is what sam finally says.

lena smiles, eyes glistening in a way that makes sam feel transparent. she clears her throat. "i’d love to be, but i’m pretty sure she's holding out for a thing with you, and i somehow got caught in the middle of this."

"what?" sam coughs. the only thing between kara and her is animosity; maybe even hate. she doesn't even think about kara outside of that. in fact, she spends most of her day Not Thinking About Kara. "did she say that?"

it comes out more curious than she intends it, which lena definitely notices. "more or less."

sam can't tell if lena's fucking with her, but the room feels too hot now. "in those words? like, she likes me?"

that one even comes out hopeful. lena's picking up every little nuance; sam can see it on her face. "you can discuss it when she gets back."

"no, i -" she shouldn't go down that rabbit hole, not sure if her heart or brain or soccer season can handle it. "i'm just here to apologize for being the reason we lost today. i can admit when i fucked up."

"you should have passed the ball," lena points out. "she had a clear shot."

"i know." there's another long pause, sam tapping the tips of her fingers together, lena looking content to watch her fidget. sam's the one to break the silence. "i don't like her, you know? we aren't - it's not like that. she doesn't like me. it's just a rivalry."

"she called me sam while we were having sex last week. she told me about you two, what happened first year."

sam's cheeks heat up so fast she doesn't even bother trying to hide she's blushing. she's lost count of the number of times she's gotten off to remembering kara's voice in her ear. she hates herself for it. "we had sex orientation weekend, and then the next day at soccer practice she barely looked at me. she just kept trying to show me up. so i kept trying to show her up, and now we're here."

lena actually laughs, then rolls her eyes like sam is being ridiculous. "that happened three years ago, and you still haven't talked about it?"

"what's there to talk about?"

"i don't know, her moaning your name during sex, maybe."

"whatever," sam mumbles.

"whatever," lena mocks. "i'm pretty sure she's only interested in me because she saw us together."

"don't tell me you actually believe that," sam frowns. "even if she is interested in me, there's no way she's not interested in you."

"maybe," lena says. then the door lock clicks and the handle turns, and suddenly there's kara. too soon and too unexpectedly, with her joggers and her loose t-shirt and the dumb way she staggers when she walks inside a door. she's carrying two bags from the downstairs mini mart and a subway sandwich. hair tied up in a messy ponytail. lips too fucking pink.

sam freezes. she forgot what exactly she came here to do.

"she came to apologize," lena tells kara, and sam realizes, awkwardly, they've just been staring at each other. kara's eyes are so blue, it's not fucking fair. sam feels more undressed now than she did the last time she was on kara's bed. "and, don't get me wrong, i don't think that's a bad place to start, but i told her you two should probably talk about more than just tonight or losing the game. especially since, you know, you can't keep her name out of your mouth."

"lee," kara says, calm, like she's fond enough of lena she's skipped shocked or upset and landed head-first on acceptance. "you didn't."

"i did, and she blushed, now discuss," lena gestures. "this is almost making up for my favorite show being on hiatus."

"we're not entertainment," kara pouts.

"not with that attitude," lena smiles. "but i believe in you. you can do it."

"i'm just here to - i'm sorry," sam says, then she stands up, keeping her eyes on the floor.

she's fucking glad for it, too, because she's pretty sure her string snaps when kara sighs. "sit back down, please. she's right, you know? even though we should talk about which information is not okay to disclose." lena whispers sorry. sam sits back down. she looks up just in time to watch kara glide the couple steps between them and plop down on the bed next to her, so close their thighs knock together. sam tries not to think about it. "i guess lena let the cat out of the bag, so no need to tiptoe around it."

"you still like me, so what?" sam says. she feels defensive.

kara carves right through it, though; first by blinking at her silently, then by opening one of the mini mart bags and offering sam a pint of mango talenti. "i do," kara says, slowly. she glances up at lena like she's checking if that's okay. lena's still smiling so sam supposes it is. it feels like she's in the twilight zone. she just wanted to apologize, but instead, she's doing whatever the fuck this is. she takes the ice cream and twists the cap off. kara relaxes a little. "that isn't to say we should do something about it, just that i don't actually dislike you."

sam wants to do something about it. it's her first thought. she won't say that. "what do you want me to say?"

kara looks at lena again. lena rolls her eyes. "you can say you like her, too. you can say you don't. you can say you want to be friends. anything, really. just don't lie, or worse - say nothing."

"i don't dislike you, either," sam says, fast enough she can't stop herself.

then she ducks her head and eats four scoops of the ice cream while kara stares at her profile. "cool," kara says, and then there's nothing else for a long while again. finally, after what feels like forever, kara huffs and asks, "you want to watch iron chef?"

"what?" sam asks, looking up, halfway to a brain freeze.

"lena and i have been marathoning it," kara explains. "it's what we do after, um. hanging out."

"i know you have sex," sam says flatly.

"is that okay?" kara asks.

it catches sam off guard. her opinion shouldn't matter, so she says as much. "does it matter what i think?"

"it does to me," kara says, then, "since we're being honest."

"i don't mind," sam says. it's not a lie, but it's also not a full truth. she's not jealous of lena; she likes lena. she's mostly just jealous that lena gets to have a piece of kara and she doesn't. "it's not like i can compete with lena."

that one catches kara off guard. she just stares at sam for a while. sam goes back to her ice cream. "you can, but you don't have to," kara says after a bit. "feel free to interpret that whichever way you want."

"i don't know what that means," sam mumbles.

"it means i can stay or i can leave," lena explains. "either way, you two are hanging out tonight. this isn't a competition."

oh, sam thinks. "oh," she says. "you can stay if you're good with that."

so lena stays.

they turn on iron chef then, kara squeezed between sam and lena, their backs against the wall on the twin-sized dorm bed. it feels fucking ridiculous, but sam settles into it, pressed against kara's shoulder. lena's asleep with her head on kara's lap by the time they announce the culinary curveball. sam can't stop watching kara's hand, tracing lena's ear, fingers snaking through her hair.

"does she always fall asleep?" she asks.

"like clockwork," kara says, "but she's not satisfied if we don't watch, then i get so caught up in it i can't sleep."

"that's cute."

"she is."

"i know," sam says, then immediately wants to take it back. "sorry, i didn't mean - i just. i really don't mind you dating, i swear."

"that's good," kara smiles, then moves her free hand from resting on her own thigh to resting on sam's. she doesn't even take her eyes off the laptop screen in front of them. sam feels like she's having a fucking heart attack. "this show is always so intense."

"you're touching me," sam says. she can't pretend it's not happening. "are you making a move?"

thankfully, kara just squeezes her thigh instead of moving her hand away. sam's not quite ready for her to go yet, but she can't sit here with them not addressing it. "should i not?"

it's not even a challenge; it's an honest question. sam wants to give an honest answer, but deflecting feels better. "is she okay with it?"

"yeah, she's fine," kara responds, thumbing over lena's ear as she says it. "pretty sure she has everything she wants right here."

"well, in that case," sam says, losing her thought briefly when kara squeezes her thigh again. "i guess it's fine."

"cool," kara says, so they watch the rest of the episode like that.

when the countdown starts to play another, everything feels tense. they're both tired from the game today, they should sleep, but they can't all fit on this bed. sam will have to go, probably. she's not ready to go. "hey," she starts, settling her hand on top of kara's.

"we can watch another," kara says right away. lena's out hard at this point, face smashed against kara's belly, snoring lightly. sam wants to be that comfortable, but she's jittery just touching kara's hand. "unless you want to go."

"not yet," sam admits.

kara flips her hand over, letting sam thumb over her palm, play with her fingers as the next episode starts up. "good," she says. "i'm not ready for you to go yet."

#supergirl #superreigncorp #asks #my writing #ficlet

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charged-wanderlust · 3 years

Text

a beautiful hurricane, pt. 3 | jett slater x mc x remy chevalier

THIS... THIS IS ALMOST 3K WORDS LMFAOOO well. i hope that makes up for the wait SDFGJSDHDS warning for mild smut ahead!!! anyway thank you so much @mcira for commissioning me, it helps me greatly and was so fun to do! if anyone else wants me to write them something, my commission prices are here!

What you really end up doing, instead of talking to Remy, is first, talking to Nikolai.

It only felt right - nobody knew Remy like Nikolai did, you’re pretty sure they dated once upon a time but refuse to talk about it, and Nikolai working with all of you made his approval very significant to the matter at hand.

“You’re asking for my blessing… to ask out Remy?” He blinks, dazed and confused, an uncommon expression from the mastermind himself. “Why do I have a say in who he dates?”

“It’s less asking for permission and more like asking for advice,” you explain quickly, scratching awkwardly at the back of your neck. “We know Remy is the jealous type, that much is obvious. So we just wanna know what you think on the whole polyamory thing - would Remy try it? Do you know how he feels about.. about us?”

Nikolai scoffs, his signature smirk returning. “The real question is, who doesn’t know how he feels about you two?” His words make you and Jett flush parallel shades of red, but you let him continue. “Yes, he’s definitely in love with you both. And that’s precisely why he hasn’t done anything about it; he doesn’t think he deserves one partner, let alone two. Instead, he drags out this con as long as physically possible just so he can pretend to be your husband a little bit longer, pretend like he can have you before you inevitably end up with Jett.”

Jett strokes his chin in thought, gears turning in his brain. “That would also explain why he’s been a lot more forward with me lately, but only when MC isn’t around… wow, he really thinks it’s his last chance, huh?”

He nods. “Exactly. In his head, he’s not worthy of love and you two deserve each other and are perfect together. I don’t even think the thought of polyamory has even crossed his mind.”

“Well it should!” Jett protests, like it means anything to Nikolai. “We both wanna date him, and he wants both of us! What now?”

“What do you think?” Nikolai asks it like it’s the most obvious question in the world. “You ask him.”

It has to be dramatic, you’d decided. Something awe-inducing, something solid and concrete so he can’t argue - because if there’s one thing Remy Chevalier knows how to do, it’s argue. You work with the Poppy to get Remy out of the penthouse - Vivienne might have poisoned him just a little to get the job done - long enough to stuff his room with lilies of the valley, and you help Jett paint the border of Remy’s mirror with all the little things you can think of that have some semblance of importance to you.

Making sure to use easy-to-remove paints, the two of you get carried away, branching from the edges of his mirror onto the walls, painting sunsets shared and fireworks made and foods had together. You and Jett work in perfect tandem with each other, art connecting to make one big picture that almost looks like a time-lapse of all the time you’d spent with him; the sunset where Jett realised his love for Remy all those years ago fading into the ice cream shop you discovered Remy’s favourite flavour was vanilla, fading into the river you all boated down together and learned that Remy has a surprisingly sweet singing voice.

Jett keeps pausing in the middle of his paintings, though, and eventually it becomes enough to make you ask.

“Jett? At first I thought you were just thinking about the painting real hard, but you’re not even looking at it. What’s wrong?”

You thought he was starting to get insecure, but instead, he laughs. He laughs and it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard.

“Nothing’s wrong, love, I’m looking at you.”

“Oh.”

“You’re most attractive when you’re in your element like this, I think,” he explains, touching up the clouds on his side of the wall. “I just can’t help but think of how lucky I am.”

About an hour too early, the door flies open, and both of you whip around to find Remy in the doorway.

“Ah-ha I knew you guys were… up to… something…..” His voice trails off as he takes in the view before him, the flowers he’d only ever given those he’d loved, the paintings that he recognised the meanings of instantly, his own face in the mirror with a little crown painted atop his head- “What… what is all this? I thought it’d be another prank but… this… this is beautiful…”

You exchange a look with Jett, grinning from ear to ear, and gesture Remy to come sit on the bed with you.

“Oh-ho-ho, this is a really elaborate one is it? Let me guess. All of this for a really well-timed whoopee cushion?”

“How you wound me,” Jett sighs, bringing his hand to his forehead. “You really think that low of us?”

“I assure you, Remy,” you chip in, “I wouldn’t spend this much effort on a prank.”

“Then what else?”

Once again, you turn to Jett, who looks just as uncertain of what to say as you are. “Uh. Something important?”

Taking a deep breath, you figure you’re going to have to do the talking for the both of you.

“I’m gonna start talking, Remy, and I don’t want you to say shit till I say I’m finished. Okay?”

Remy is completely and utterly bewildered, but he nods slowly and sits on the bed, door shutting behind him as he observes the memories plastered all over his bedroom wall.

“We’re in love with you,” Jett blurts out, and it startles you so much you elbow him in the rib.

“What was that for?!”

“Ever heard of laying it on slowly?!”

“You’re… what?”

You sigh, gathering the courage to look Remy in the eyes as you talk. “Remy… over these past few months, working with you, getting to know you, the real you - the Remy underneath all those masks you wear to please people - I find I don’t want to stop being yours when the con ends. I-If you’ll have me, that is. And if you’ll have Jett, too.”

“It wasn’t the marriage con we did once that made me fall for you, actually,” Jett laughs, running a hand through his hair. “It was before that. That one kiss on the rooftop in Buenos Aires when the sun rose, when we didn’t go any further than that. All of a sudden it wasn’t about the sex anymore, or how good of a kisser you are - it was about you. Just you.”

“And before you butt in about me falling in love with you because you’re acting as my husband,” you interject, giving him a stern, knowing look that makes him shrink a little, “You’ve been teaching me all your tricks. I know when you’re being real or not. You can even test me.”

Something changes is Remy’s eyes when you say that, and he fixes them on yours.

“I love you.”

“That’s real.”

He smiles, but it’s the smile of a broken man, getting up to leave. “It’s not, ma cherie. You’re not as good as you think you are.”

“That’s also a lie!” He freezes, pinned under your glare, and you grab his hand, threading your fingers with his. Jett does the same with his other hand, face uncharacteristically solemn, and once again, Remy is speechless. “That’s what you want to believe, Remy, you’re lying to yourself more than anyone else. You think you’re getting in the way of us, you think you don’t deserve it but let me tell you, there’s a way. We can love you as much as we love each other - we do, and if you don’t wanna believe it that’s your own loss because we really, really care about you!”

The silence is is deafening enough to make your hands tremble.

“That- That’s all I have to say. Jett?”

“I’ve never been good with words,” Jett huffs, bringing Remy’s hand to his mouth and pressing a gentle kiss across the man’s knuckles. “But I can prove how I feel about you in any way you ask, Remy. Through touch, through action, hell, through painting-” he gestures at the colourful wall behind him in exasperation, “-it’s all for you. These are all memories-”

“The time we had brunch on a boat,” Remy cut in, gazing fondly at the river painted atop his mirror. “The time in Bruges we kissed to be inconspicuous… the time I brought you ice cream tasting…” His eyes landed on the flowers adorning the sides of his room. “The flowers I’d given you.”

His mouth opens and closes like he’s trying to speak underwater, but he’s ran out of air - ran out of words - so instead, he wraps an arm around each of you and pulls you in for a soul-crushing hug, burying his face in your shoulders. He doesn’t make a noise, but his body quivers, and you and Jett realise he’s crying at the same time.

“I-I love you both, too.” His voice is small, but not weary - it’s just for you and Jett only, not the ears in the walls. “I love you both so much it-it- it hurts and I didn’t know what to do with myself and I just-”

He sits back up, wiping the tears from his face and giving you a real smile this time, the smile you see in your sketchbook, your dreams, your future - “It’s just too good to be true, almost. Like there’s meant to be a catch.”

Jett cups Remy’s face, kissing him softly, briefly, but enough to send tingles down his spine.

“The catch is you’re going to have to deal with both of us and all the shenanigans that ensue.”

Remy returns the kiss, just as chaste but just as lovingly. “I guess I have my hands full, then.”

“You sure do!” You laugh, climbing into his lap, jokingly shoving Jett aside - to which he yelps, “hey!” - and bringing your face close to Remy’s. “My turn, Remy. You told me a real kiss could tear open the sky. Care to demonstrate?”

He doesn’t waste a moment. You feel his smirk against your lips before you see it, welcoming the blistering heat as he pulls you closer to him, chest to chest. Finally, finally, finally - you thread your fingers in his long, silky hair, just like you’ve imagined so long, and all the teasing was so worth it because he kisses you like he can’t live without it. Maybe he can’t, not now that he’s had a taste and it really does break open the sky; the whole galaxy and beyond.

Getting impatient, Jett moves behind you, knocking Remy back onto the mattress and pinning you between them. He doesn’t expect you to stop kissing Remy - he knows firsthand how addicting his kiss is - instead, he tosses your hair over one shoulder and places his lips upon your now exposed neck, light, not tentative but tantalizing.

“Jett…”

“Oh, don’t let me interrupt you two,” he purrs next to your ear, ghosting his lips across the shell. “I’m quite enjoying the show.”

“You tease,” Remy half-chuckles-half-rasps, reaching past you to grab Jett’s collar and yank him down into another searing kiss, only to bite his lip harsh enough to make him gasp, then pulling back to leave him hanging.

Jett licks his lips, eyes flashing at the unspoken challenge. “So how are we doing this, then?”

“We’ve danced this dance before, you and I,” Remy muses, tracing Jett’s jawline with the pad of his thumb, “We should let MC decide.”

“I’ve danced this dance with both of you,” Jett snickers, peeling off the two of you to start working the buckles of his suspenders, giving you a cheeky wink. “Maybe I should give you tips. For example…”

He rolls you off Remy, pinning your wrists above your head, “MC likes being manhandled a little bit. And she’s really sensitive right here-” He sucks at the soft skin above your collarbone and you let out a soft whine on instinct, embarrassment painted all over your face, but you don’t miss the way Remy’s eyes darken at the sound.

“Good to know… any other tips I should know?”

“Ah-ah-ah, it should be fair for both of you.”

This time, he cages Remy to the bed, and you watch with rapt attention as he hikes the other man’s shirt up, giving you a brilliant view of his toned muscles. Jett leans down and drags his teeth along his v-line, making his legs twitch beneath him.

“Ah- Jett, you’re a menace.”

“You love it.”

A disgruntled sigh is the only confirmation he gives, but the smile on his face says it all as he shrugs off his shirt entirely, throwing it somewhere else in the room. “I quite preferred MC on top of me, actually.”

“Mm, it is a good look on you,” Jett agrees, helping you out of your clothes with surprising calmness compared to his usual frenzied movements. Clearly, Remy brings out the side of him that likes to really savour it.

Remy can’t help but groan at the sight of you in all your glory, taking Jett’s advice from earlier and tugging you atop him impatiently - maybe Jett brought out the beast in Remy, too.

Emboldened by his eagerness, you grind down on him, and the low rumble you hear from him in response is music to your ears. “I didn’t know our Remy was so… vocal.”

“Oh, you haven’t heard him when he’s taking it-”

“If we have to bring that up, mon coeur, I think you have me beat.”

You giggle, magnetically drawn to his lips once more while your hands fumble with his belt; Jett helps you discard the remaining cloth in the way so you and Remy finally, finally come together - it’s electric. You feel the static buzz all the way down to your toes, and it’s so, so good.

“Think you can handle both of us, love?” Jett peppers your shoulder blades with kisses, and while just the thought makes you shudder - you nod, almost too enthusiastically.

“I want it.”

“Good girl.”

The addition of Jett fills the room the with a chorus of moans that you can barely tell who from who. They give you a minute to adjust - ever the gentlemen - and next thing you know is an all-encompassing pleasure that pulses through your whole body, and you swear you can see stars. You have to bite down on Remy’s shoulder to not alert the entire building of the debauchery going on in the room, but he just grips your hips harder, growling deep in his chest.

“Don’t hold back on me, ma reveuse. Let us hear you.”

Who are you to deny him?

Noise complaints be damned, you think - the Poppy had stayed in town for this very reason. With every movement from Remy and Jett, your mind goes blank, only able to focus on the two of them working in perfect harmony, their hips, their lips, their hands, their voices, just them, them, them.

“C-Christ, you’re incredible- you’re both incredible. I’m- I’m-”

Jett’s pace stutters, but Remy keeps going, absolutely voracious, and your highs all crash down at once. Your back arches, toes curl, and you don’t even recognise the sounds leaving your mouth, but your two boyfriends ride out the wave with you, muttering choked-up praise in your ear and hushed I love you’s until your soul finally returns to your body.

The three of you collapse on the bed, a tangle of limbs and sweat, and Jett has the audacity to laugh. Not even having the breath to reply, you just tilt your head at him, raising a brow in question.

“Hah- If I knew this was how it would’ve ended up, I would’ve asked you both out a lot sooner, fuck…”

You gave him a worn-out, lazy grin. “I don’t think I can feel my legs.”

Remy pecks your cheek affectionately, rolling out of bed to head for the bathroom. “I’ll get you a towel.”

“You did great, love,” Jett hums softly, stroking your hair rhythmically, gazing at you with entire galaxies behind his eyes. “Don’t worry. Between me and Remy, we can carry you everywhere until you can walk again.”

“I’d kiss that stupid smirk off your face if I had the energy,” you huff, crossing your arms. “You’re way too smug for your own good.”

“You love it.”

Remy returns with a damp towel, gently wiping you down with enough care to turn your limbs to jelly if they weren’t already bone-tired. “We do, unfortunately. What a shame.”

Jett weakly whacks him on the shoulder, and the three of you laugh together like the notes of a perfect chord. It’s hectic, all of you being together, but it’s perfect. Life never did stop being a hurricane, but with these two by your side, you know you can surrender to the harsh winds, letting it carry you along like a roller coaster - heart always thumping, eyes always shining.

You never knew a hurricane could be so beautiful.

#FINALLY THIS HULK OF A FIC IS DONE #well its not the longest thing ive written by far but #it sure is for lovestruck anyway #lovestruck voltage #queen of thieves #qot mc #jett slater #remy chevalier #jett x mc #jett x remy #remy x mc #jett x remy x mc #lovestruck fanfiction

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rvmmm21 · 3 years

Text

[ V V S her diamonds ] – ch 04.

[5:45 p.m.] Washed-out rays of sunshine flood the arcade cafe, and Seungwan can’t contain her flourishing smile at the thought of Bae Joohyun visiting her at work.

. . . . .

Sometimes I wish I could go and live in the clouds of your fantasies.

Being a part-time barista is a safe-haven for all of hers.

The junior buzzes around behind the counter, systematically preparing orders of cakes and coffees on the tiny overhead order slips. A satisfied hum sounds as she finishes prettying the dessert display and slides the glass window closed.

Cake display, check.

Watermelon lychee-mint crush, coming up.

She dries her hands after spooning the frozen watermelon chunks into the blender, and the crinkle of her leather apron sounds brand new for some reason. Perhaps it’s because she feels brand new. Either way, her customers seem to pick up on her good mood too, and it blows her usually gruelling shift by like a light summer breeze. The hustle of work-pressed university students scrambling for their sugar rushes and extra shots of caffeine dulls in her ears, the memory of the past three weeks sitting at the very forefront of her thoughts.

The past three weeks of back and forth texting, weekly study dates and a volantly climbing heart rate– wait no, a steadily building friendship.

About halfway through the afternoon, the regular tempo of her shift suddenly interrupts with a swish of silky hair and an award winning smile.

“Wow, a barista. Cute and talented, I see. Where do I sign up?”

Seungwan adjusts the straps on her apron, blinking. “Taeyeon sunbaenim?”

“Kidding, kidding,” the girl laughs, holding her hand out as if that would somehow quell the bout of unease that had begun to well in the pit of Seungwan’s stomach.

Remaining professional, she answers with a nervous laugh of her own. “What can I get for you today, sunbaenim?”

Taeyeon hums, tapping a delicate finger to her chin while she stares down at the fancy little menu. A vague smirk graces pink lips as her fingertip traces the bold laminated print. “Hm, what do your pancakes come with?”

Seungwan leans over the cash register to glaze over the small description underneath and then snaps back up, knowing the ingredients by heart already. “Oh! They’re plain buttermilk, but you can choose your topping! Uh… strawberries and ice cream is– it’s a customer favourite, if you’d like.”

A hum of deliberation. “I see. And do I get special service?”

“S-Sorry?” The suggestion in her tone chokes the girl, unsure of what that means.

Taeyeon gracefully giggles and leans over the counter to playfully tap Seungwan on the shoulder. “Yah, you’re too funny. I meant an extra scoop of ice cream. Since we know each other, obviously. Why, what were you thinking?”

“Ah! Of course I can do that for you,” she chuckles awkwardly, keying in the order. Seungwan’s fingers flinch around the Amex Black Card when it doesn’t slip out of Taeyeon’s as easily. Chestnut eyes peek up at her, and from the casual smirk on her face, the older girl seems to know what she’s doing.

“Oh yeah,” her expression contorts as though she’s trying to recall why she’s now holding up a small queue of foot-tapping, huffing customers. “How’s your project going?”

She answers hastily, eyeing the holdup. “It’s great! Joohyun unnie is really helping me with this class.”

Taeyeon raises a brow. “Unnie?”

“Y-Yeah, Joohyun unnie’s great, can– can I take your card, please?” she reiterates.

“Ah,” the other girl finally nods in realisation, “you two are close friends now. That’s great! I’m glad to hear it’s going well.” The grip on the credit card slackens. “Thank you, Seungwan.”

Seungwan purses her lips, stiffly rocking on her heels as they both wait for the card reader to go ‘beep’. Once Taeyeon walks away, her tension dispels with a heavy sigh and she signals for the next customer.

Softy’s Autumn Morning comes on the set playlist shuffle. Pleasant lo-fi beats ripple through the cafe and Seungwan gently bops along as she works, carefully eyeing the bubbling pancake mix to make sure it doesn’t burn.

Time seems to slow to a glacial pace. That is, until the little bronze bell chimes and a certain someone walks in. Seungwan recognises that vintage Balenciaga Defile Sport hoodie in a heartbeat. Her legs kick into gear and she rushes over to meet her. Joohyun approaches the counter with her signature gaze of boredom, but hides a laugh behind her sweater paw when she sees the barista almost trip over her own sneakers.

Five minutes later, said barista is hunched over a small cup of latte, hands steadily crafting two pointy milk ears with the help of a toothpick.

As she pops a little bonus on the saucer in replacement of their standard Lotus Biscoff biscuit, Seungwan wonders where Sooyoung and Jennie are, melting a little at how Joohyun looks so small and harmless without the final duo to complete her killer posse. God, when they're all three together, it gets really hard to not believe she'sthe precious daughter of South Korea's most elusive mafia boss. The rumours have to come from somewhere, right? She takes a deep breath to steel her nerves before serving the mafia daughter sitting by the window.

“Enjoy your coffee, unnie!” she chirps, setting the steaming drink down. Service with a complimentary home baked cookie is her way of saying ‘I think you’re super cool’.

Totally embarrassed at her dumb little gift, the girl slinks back to her station with sizzling ears before her senior can even thank her.

How cute.

Joohyun’s lips curl into a secret smile at the milk foam cat happily greeting her from her latte.

. . . . .

[7:45 p.m.] Seulgi whines when she goes to get a Cola from the fridge and finds the door wide open with Yerim chugging milk straight from the carton. Her roommate calmly caps the lid, dutifully ignoring her.

. . . . .

Polystyrene containers of spicy tteokbokki, salmon sashimi, crispy pork mandu as well as skewers of various glazed meats glisten deliciously under warm living room lights. It’s the perfect go-to cheat day feast.

“Unnie, you’re like those tragic lovers in my dramas,” the youngest blurts, chewing on her Yakult straw. “Literally every one of them. Too dumb to confess and then drowns in their tears at night. You gonna break the cycle or what?”

Shock seizes Seungwan’s expression before she shakes her head at the way this heartless dongsaeng just takes her feelings and tosses them around like a salad. Still, she thinks, there’s no harm in being honest.

“What’s there to confess? We’re just friends."

Seulgi and Yerim exchange a silent look at the neat pile of tteokbokki on Seungwan’s plate. They remembered only a month ago, their friend seemed to have eyes for nothing else. The dish was so tasty she could marry it, apparently. But its charms seem to have worn off; now overshadowed by Joohyun’s endearingly obnoxious laughter and just about everything about her.

"Plus, you know, I doubt Joohyun unnie sees me that way either."

An epiphany strikes Yerim and she slaps her hand on the table, jabbing a restless finger at her shocked dorm mates. “Zenitsu, Zenitsu! Unnie, you’re Zenitsu, I’ve freaking figured it out.”

Confusion colours Seungwan’s face. “Zenits… who?”

“Zenitsu from Demon Slayer.”

“What?”

“That mopey kid.”

“Yerim-ah…”

“Demon Slayer. Yerimie’s bingeing it right now. Anime on Netflix or something,” Seulgi explains through a mouthful of dumpling, “she won’t shut up about it. God help us there’s a movie out already.”

Curiosity soon has the confused girl peering at her screen, determined to find out what she’s being called. Thank god for YouTube.

The youngest feels the heat as she watches her unnie’s expression become more and more deadpan with every passing video.

“Yerim. What, exactly, do you see of me in this?” Seungwan threateningly questions, holding up a paused clip of a cartoon boy grovelling at the feet of a pretty girl. She wonders if it’s wrong to want Joohyun to actually have mafia connections now… and if she’d be willing to share them with her for… purposes.

She shrugs defensively. “What? Don’t you think he’s cute?”

"Don't worry Wan, I don't see it either," Seulgi jumps in.

‘Cute’ isn’t quite the term. The blonde nonchalantly brings the chopsticks to her mouth and bites down… onto thin air. Much to the amusement of the two across her. “Hey how’s it going with Sooyoung?” she turns her attention to the girl sitting cross-legged opposite.

Seulgi tuts in reply, dangling a salmon slice in front of her unimpressed roomie. “Stop trying to change the subject, Wan. It’s sooo obvious.” After a pregnant pause, she grins like a kid on Christmas morning, spilling her own adventures with her third of the black velvet trio in one breath. “But thank you for asking because we’re going to the cinema this weekend.”

Yerim chopsticks another tteokbokki onto her plate. “Ooh, what movie?”

“Oh, uh…” Seulgi shrugs, “dunno… I think Sooyoung knows more about what’s good, so I’ll–”

“You’re gonna let her decide, is what I’m hearing,” the maknae scoffs with an eye roll.

Seungwan smiles.

“Simps… simps! Help, someone save me, you guys are everywhere!” Yerim pretends to drown on land and her friends resist the urge to jump her on the spot.

. . . . .

[11:09 a.m.] The raven-haired senior catches her unsuspecting junior on her way through campus gardens the next morning and pries her for answers.

. . . . .

“Why a cat?”

Seungwan’s eyes form joyous crescent moons. “Unnie!”

Suddenly, she has to keep her focus from dwindling into how good they’d both look sitting under the shade of that big old oak tree.

Somewhere through the cottoned clouds of her daydreams, they’re on one of their many picnics. Doughnuts, corn-dogs, toasted sandwiches and bottled juice litter the peach gingham mat they’re sitting on, and Joohyun offers her a corner of her Gilgeori toast. Of course, she cheekily tries her luck, leaving her with just the corner instead. She yelps when Joohyun gives her a shoulder thwack well deserved.

Clumsy knees knock together as they laugh themselves silly, the powdered sugar on their lips melting into a sweet river every time she connects them with a kiss.

Seungwan bites her lip, wringing her mind of those thoughts, trying to play down the elation at hearing her senior’s curiosity. “A cat? I-I don’t know, I just think they’re funny and– kinda cute.” Her voice goes squeaky with excitement. “You liked it? Unnie! You should order more coffees with milk in them. I’ll draw you a bunny next time!”

Joohyun nods, willing to buy the cafe’s entire stock if it meant she got to see Seungwan beam like a praised puppy, all too eager to learn its next trick.

And she might’ve just marched down there right now to do as she’d said… if they weren’t ten minutes late for their class. Suddenly they’re both panickedly clutching at each other, torn between sprinting like they’re being chased by hyenas, turning up fashionably late, or hopping around and freaking out about the fact that they’re already eleven minutes late, now.

Joohyun’s wrist is grabbed just as she’s about to suggest the fashionably late option. Then she’s hurtling forward, struggling to keep her books from falling whilst poorly protesting the early-morning PE session. But Seungwan is too busy shouting nonsense into the skies about how this is the final chance the lightning gods get to strike her down and charge her up.

Which would’ve been convincing had her voice not cracked on every other word.

As the pair clumsily sprint down the path of pastel flower bushes, the older girl can’t remember the last time she’s laughed this freely. She can barely get the words out but she feels like she’d explode if she didn’t.

“Seungwan-ah! You’re giving me a six pack!”

And when Seungwan turns back to laugh with her, something in Joohyun’s static heart ignites.

. . . . .

In the diamond, star-dappled sky, Cherub wakes from his silken cloud. Lily-white wings unfurl at the latest calling.

#red velvet #wenrene #wendy #irene #university au #seulgi #joy #yeri #joygi #a budding relationship #i mean friendship

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juyeoniemyhoney · 4 years

Text

things she’ll never know

When you love someone, the most important thing that you should not do is introduce them to their crush and help them get along. Yoongi knows this because he has learned the hard way. Because truly, introducing you to Jungkook has got to be his biggest mistake ever and once things for you and Jungkook start to escalate into more than a friendship, Yoongi knows he fucked up.

-pairing: min yoongi x reader (feat. jungkook)

-genre: angst yo

-warnings: none really, this may be a little stupid

-word count: 2408 words

-A/N: what upppp. back with a little yoongi angst. i hope you guys like it! don’t be shy to request some ideas you’d like me to write! i like live to please people and coming up with plots or scenarios are like super hard for me for some reason. also don’t be afraid to tell me your thoughts on this one! it really, really helps me to improve and write better!

--------

It is without a doubt that everything you do has no reason. Like literally everything you are pursuing has in some way or another been forced onto you. You did not sign up for school, no. Your mother had just dressed you up in a school uniform one day when you were six and left you in a school full of strangers and other tiny people. So naturally, after being forced into things your whole life, you have developed a hate for almost everything.

But nothing you have gone through can quite prepare you for the shit that you have to endure today.

Today, instead of having an engaging discussion about life during homeroom like you usually do, your classmates are scattered around the classroom, cleaning every single nook and cranny until it is basically shining. All the while, the teacher screams at a group of friends who childishly throw rubbish and spray water at each other as a means to make this laborious task at least a little bit more fun than it actually is.

After every semester, your school deems it necessary for the students to conduct a “spring cleaning” activity. As a result, your fun homeroom sessions are replaced with an hour of cleaning; beneficial for the janitors who work at your school, but nonetheless a drab and boring activity.

“This is so boring,” you sigh, verbalising your thoughts to Yoongi, who is silently wiping a window pane beside you. Yoongi remains silent and just nods, lips set in a firm line but expression gentle. At his silent response, you cannot help but allow a smile to bloom on your lips at his extremely Yoongi-esque answer.

Yoongi, your best friend, is an attractive, raven haired boy of little words. He has been by your side for as long as you can remember; since you had moved in beside him. He had come up to you, shy, tiny and chubby, asking you to help him tie his shoelaces. Since then, the two of you have been inseparable and you basically tell him everything. And because Yoongi is such a good friend, the moment you told him that you found Jungkook, a fellow classmate, attractive, Yoongi had taken it upon himself to — unlike his introverted nature — befriend him.

Which brings us to today, almost a year after Jungkook was included into your list of friends. The three of you had grown quite close in the past year. But don’t be mistaken, it took you almost three months to warm up to him, far too shy to even look him in the eyes. But with insistent prompting from Yoongi and an insane amount of coincidental occurrences, obviously articulately orchestrated by Yoongi, you eventually came round and began to talk comfortably with Jungkook.

“Yoongi,” you call him, reaching up to his sleeve to tug on it gently. The action causes Yoongi’s heart to swell and his chest strains painfully with the inability to house the sheer amount of adoration he feels for you. Yoongi hums in response, too lost at the sight of you to process words.

“Make this more fun,” you command, frown drawing your brows together, lips turned down at the corners in a pout. Yoongi’s heart falters at the sight.

Years ago, when you and Yoongi were four years old, only a few days after he met you, he already knew that he was going to marry you. You had run up to him in the playground, attacking him with a bear hug, surprising him by muttering a soft and shy, I love you as you tucked your face into his neck. Yoongi has never been the same since.

That moment has been replaying itself in his head, a constant reminder that his immediate thought after you had embraced him was that he never wanted you to let go. He has only fallen harder for you since; for your magnetic personality and your laugh and your smile that seems to shine so brightly that it is as if the sun had decided to bury itself in your very being.

His unadulterated attraction to even just the thought of you only seemed to strengthen that fateful night, consisting of powerful torrents of rain and a sole umbrella. That night, (despite being under the legal drinking age) you were drunk out of your mind, arm slung around Yoongi’s shoulder and legs tripping over each other clumsily. The two of you had awkwardly, yet silently, stumbled into your room, Yoongi groaning with exertion and exhaustion after having to haul you all the way back to your house from the party that celebrated your school’s volleyball team’s win. As soon as your head had hit your pillow, lightning flashed as if the sky was snapping a picture of that moment, granting Yoongi sight of you. Love surged through him at the sight, your eyes barely open and glazed over in exhaustion.

“It’s raining,” you had observed from the window behind Yoongi. Yoongi, too distracted by the look of pure merriment swirling in your brown eyes that shone like the moon, could only a whisper an aloof answer. You’ve always liked rain.

He was spiralling down a tangent of doubtful supposition, trying to decide if he should just kiss you right then and there, if it would still ruin your friendship even if there was a high possibility that the whole night would excuse itself from your memory in the morning. Yoongi immediately dispelled the horrifying thought from his brain, barely registering that you had gotten up and had started to rummage about your things.

“You should take this umbrella,” you slurred, turning back around to look at Yoongi. You stumbled clumsily towards him, as if you were a baby learning to walk. Just as you were about to hand Yoongi the umbrella, a wire had caught your foot, pulling taut and tripping you. You had stumbled forward in an attempt to find your balance, but once you realised that it would not be possible, you had tried to catch yourself on Yoongi instead, but your lack of sobriety had also meant the deduction of your depth perception, causing you to completely miss his shoulders.

All too suddenly, Yoongi found himself on your bed, on his back, tasting alcohol on your lips. Yoongi’s brain had ceased regular function at that point and instead of pulling away, instead of pushing you off him, instead of something, he found himself kissing you. And for the shortest of seconds, you were kissing him back. He seemed to have fallen from reality and landed in an alternate universe; where you are his, and you are okay with being his. Your lips felt surreal and warm, so, so warm and he didn’t want to ever stop kissing you. But then Yoongi felt your tongue at the seam of his lips, and he was dragged out of his trance by the ankles and jolting away from you as if you were a live wire.

“Why...?” you had questioned, earnest eyes gazing down at him, searching for eye contact but Yoongi had refused it, eyes landing on everything except yours. And too fast for Yoongi to even process himself, he was snatching the umbrella from your hands, pushing you off him as gently as he could in his haste, and practically sprinting out of your bedroom, in search of refuge that only his own could offer.

When Yoongi thinks back to that incident, he always beats himself up for dashing out of there before ensuring that you were okay first. He had let his feelings control him and didn’t even stop to think that he should have probably sobered you up first before leaving. But it is far too late to regret and that incident now serves as one of Yoongi’s milestones, the one that had caused his feelings for you to grow exponentially, the kiss that you cannot even remember.

“How about we play tag? If I touch you with this rag, I win. If you manage to evade me for the rest of the period, you win. Winner gets a whole tub of ice cream,” Yoongi suggests, finally snapping out of his trance.

“That hardly seems far,” you complain with a slap to his bicep. It causes Yoongi to flinch and you let out a melodious chuckle at his reaction. Yoongi’s heart dances to the tune.

“Fine then, be bored,” is Yoongi’s snarky reply. He lets out a sigh in faux disappointment and turns back to the window to continue his interrupted wiping. Though, his expression immediately brightens when you protest to your teasing gone wrong. Flowers bloom in Yoongi’s chest and he feels a strong urge to hug you; to wrap you up in his arms, hidden away from the world in his warmth. Yoongi has to quite literally hold himself back to not act on the urge.

And so begins the game of tag. If Yoongi were to be entirely honest, he hates physical activity, of every and any sort. Which is why he has no idea why he had suggested to play tag in the first place. If he were to be even more honest, even if he hates running, he is sure that if he were playing seriously, the game would end in the matter of seconds. So, he chases you with restraint and pretends to take breaks in between the chasing. And if he ever came close to tagging you, he would shorten his reach so that the rag would miss you by a hair. It is just, Yoongi is high on the sound of your mirthful giggling, not wanting it to stop for even just a second. Not when the sound makes him so happy that he feels as if his whole body is levitating.

Yoongi chases you all around the classroom, the two of you blatantly ignoring your teacher’s nagging. As the period comes to an end, Yoongi quickens his speed, just refusing to lose to you after realising how much you would tease him if he did. Now at the front of the classroom, Yoongi finds himself far behind you, struggling to catch up.

Everything that happens next seems to happen in slow-motion for Yoongi.

As you glance over your shoulder to gauge where Yoongi is, you accidentally ram into someone. More specifically, you run right into Jungkook. You let out a surprised squeal when your head hits his chest and Jungkook wraps his arms around you in instinct, letting out his own sound of surprise. Yoongi’s heart, at the sight, sinks right into his gut, as if it were in quicksand. Jungkook’s expression of surprise morphs into an endearing smile and he relaxes and hugs you comfortably, arms around your shoulders and chin resting gingerly on top of your head.

Jungkook’s scent and warmth send you into a state of delirium. Your cheeks burn red in embarrassment when he starts stroking your hair, gently combing his fingers through the thick locks. Your classmates do not care, in fact you do not think they even notice the intimate moment the two fo you are having now. It is as if the world has vanished and it is just you and Jungkook, and no one else to disturb you. In Jungkook’s arms, everything feels right, like not a thing in the world is wrong, and maybe, it is here, in his arms, that you belong. As cringe-worthy as it sounds, your ears tune out all of your surroundings and only seem to be able to focus on the rhythmic beating of Jungkook’s heart. And when your arms come up around him to circle around his waist, the pace of his heart increases and you finally know that you are not the only one who is feeling things.

Yoongi, on the other hand, is absolutely livid, irises flaring red as he looks at the two of you hugging so dearly, so natural that it is as if you two have been hugging for years. One side of Yoongi, the selfish side, wants to rip you from Jungkook’s arms and claim you as his, as if he is the hound of hades, guarding the gates of the world the two of you have built together, preventing Jungkook from ever entering your world and snatching you away. But the other side of Yoongi, the one that grounds himself to reality should his love for you cause him to do utterly idiotic things, tells him to come to terms with the fact that you will never be involved with him romantically, tells him to just let you go, tells him to deal with his own idiotic actions. Because truly, introducing you to Jungkook is, and will forever be his biggest regret. But at the same time, how could he not? When you had gazed up at him with mirth-filled eyes, smile shining brighter than any star to exist in the cosmos. How could he not when he could basically feel your voice worm its way into his chest, festering something so captivating that he could not help but do something, anything to hear that tone in your voice again and feel the flowers bloom in his heart, a sweet, summer warmth melting him like candle wax. How could he rob you, the one person he has loved with all his heart, mind and soul of your happiness?

The answer is that he cannot.

So, instead of socking Jungkook in the face, instead of tearing you from Jungkook’s arms and kissing you with passionate ferocity, Yoongi circles your hugging bodies so that you can see him, gently tapping you to get your attention. Your head pops out from Jungkook’s chest and you look at Yoongi over his shoulder. When your eyes lock, your arms still around Jungkook and Jungkook’s arms still around you, he whispers as softly as he can so that you cannot hear the cracking of his heart in his voice. And despite the excruciating amount of pain he is feeling in this moment, Yoongi manages to proffer you a small smile.

“You win.”

His words refer to a plethora of things; his heart, his life, this one-sided game he has been playing. And then, before you can question anything, he leaves you to deliberate what on earth those two words should signify other than that game of tag that just decided Yoongi’s and your destiny.

Because did you actually win or did you just lose everything?

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scarletwinterxx · 4 years

Text

First and Last pt. 2

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE || PART FOUR || FINALE || BONUS

It’s been almost two months since the party, alsmost two months since Y/N and Donghyuck started to pretend they were dating. Things were surprisingly going okay, none of Donghyuck’s friends questioned him when he found them at the party with Y/N beside him, their hands intertwined.

----

“Haechan! What took you so lo- oh, Hi” Jeno stopped midsentence as he sees his bestfriend arriving hand in hand with a girl

“Went and looked for her, didn’t want her to get lost in the crowd. These are my friends by the way, that’s Jeno, the blue haired one is Jaemin and this is my roomate Renjun” Donghyuck said as he points out his friends one by one, all of whom are kind of gaping at the sight before them

“This is Y/N, my girlfiend” the words flew out of his mouth like he has been saying it forever. Not a trace of lie could be detected.

Meanwhile, Y/N awkwardly waved at the three boys. Already feeling a bit anxious under their intense and shocked stares. She started to tuck herself behind Hyuck, which the boy noticed

“Stop staring, you’re scaring my girlfriend”: this got them to shake out of their stupor

“Sorry, Hi Y/N” Jaemin said with a bright smile on, “Hi” she answered

“Didn’t expect you to come tonight” Renjun said, catching everyone’s attention

“Yea, I wasn’t sure I was coming since I have alot of work to catch up on but Hyuck convinced me so...” she said then shot a quick smile to her ‘boyfriend’ which he gladly returned

“Hyuck? oh wow that’s so cute” Jeno muttered

----

Although Donghyuck did see Renjun staring at Y/N a couple of times, not because he was his type. He knew his bestfriend well enough to know that he was just trying to read her.

After the whole thing with Lia, Renjun has always been very careful and silently taking care of Hyuck. Hyuck understood that Renjun was just looking out for him, which made him feel a hundred times more guilty about lying.

Over the weeks they spent together, Hyuck got to learn more about his ‘girlfriend’. Like how she’s more different once you get to know her and she gets comfortable with the other person. How she’s the only one who calls him by his real name, even when the rest of school and his closest friends got used to calling him Haechan.

He liked it.

If he was being honest, there are alot of things he likes about her but he’s been keeping it to himself in fear that he might scare her away.

“Tiramisu cake is still better” Jaemin said

“It is good but Choco Mousse Cake is still top tier” Y/N countered, meanwhile Jeno was just looking back and forth between the two. It was lunch time and since they all had the same class before, they decided to go together for lunch.

They’re currently debating which of their favorite cake is better

“But tiramisu just has this extra layer of flavor you know, Choco Mousse cake is like ice cream with cake but not really” Jaemin countered back

“It’s not ice cream, it says it in the name it’s literally mousse”

The two were too busy bickering that they didn’t notice the other two arrive, Renjun and Donghyuck. The two was half confused and half amused with the sight before them

“I’m going to buy a choco mousse cake and prove you wrong” Y/N said

“I’m going to make a tiramisu cake and prove YOU wrong”

“Are you two really arguing about food?” Renjun asked, breaking the banter of the two. He then took the seat beside Jeno while Hyuck took the seat beside Y/N

“I do like choco mousse cake, leave some for me” Hyuck told Y/N, making her smile at him. The boy just chuckled at his ‘girlfriend’, mumbling cute under his breath

“You’re only saying that cause she’s your girlfriend”

“What can I say, she has good taste” Hyuck said then held up his hand for a high five, which Y/N gladly returned

“I wouldn’t say that, she is dating you” Renjun said, Hyuck acted as if he was going to hit the boy making Y/N pull him back by the arm

“This is slander, she actually likes me for me you know” He boasted, hearing Y/N giggle from beside him and feeling her tighten the hold she had on his arm

“I’m glad to see you happy and all, but please keep the PDA to a minumum” Renjun said with a straightface on, the other two boys chuckling at his statement

“Can’t help it if we look cute together, right baby?” Hyuck said then turned to look at Y/N, the blush on her cheek getting more and more deeper.

“What did I just say? I swear next time you two are sitting apart”

Y/N just chuckled at Renjun while scooting a little closer to Hyuck, while the boy rest his arm on her lap.

No one in that room would even doubt the two were dating.They looked so natural together, how they just gravitate towards each other was evident to everyone who has a pair of eyes. No one would think this was all an act.

“Hyuck? Are you listening to me?” Y/N said from beside him, snapping her fingers in front of his face and breaking him out of his trance. Hyuck took the hand in front of his face and held it, tucking it underneath his chin and laying his head on it

“You’re zoning out again” she said, pulling her hand that was tucked under Hyuck’s head but he held his ground

“I don’t think my brain can process anymore of this” he sighed, with his eyes closed he could still see Y/N roll her eyes at his statement

“We barely even started”

“We’ve been doing this all day, when you said you were coming over I thought we were going to hang out” he mumbled.

When Y/N called early this morning saying she was coming over, Haechan felt a bit excited. He wasn’t trying to hide that from her, but he wasn’t exactly being upfront about it. .

“I called because I needed a place to study, my roommate invited her boyfriend over and practically shoved me out” as she mumbled out her explanation a little pout formed on her lips, Hyuck thinks it’s the most adorable thing.

“You could’ve went to the library or a cafe” Hyuck countered, but in reality he was happy she was here.

Another thing that is new after the whole reveal at the party was they spend a lot more time together in public, now that Hyuck’s friends know that they’re ‘dating’ they spend almost everyday together.

“I can go now if you’re tired” Y/N said then pulled her hand from Donghyuck’s grasp and started to gather all her things

“Ya where are you going?” the boy asked

“You said you’re tired, I’m gonna go to the library or something” her tone changed, Hyuck already knew what was going through her mind.

Y/N was never the one to be vocal when it comes to her feelings but rather it shows in her actions or the expressions. She’s never been in a relationship, fake or real, so she doesn’t know how this whole thing goes.

She knows they’re only fake dating so she set these boundaries in her head. Even though Hyuck has been very nice and friendly with her even when it’s just the two of them, she’s still very cautious around him.

When Y/N said she didn’t have anything to lose, apparently she wasn’t totally right.

“You don’t have to go”

“Go rest, Hyuck” she said as she pulls the straps of her bag on her shoulders, Hyuck was just about to say something when Renjun walks by and stopped by the door

“Hey guys, I brought some food. Do you want some?” He asked, Y/N took this as her chance to exit the dorm

“Thanks but I need to go, see you later” she said then excused herself, the sound of the front door opening and closing.

Renjun looked between the door and his bestfriend who is now sitting at the edge of his bed,

“Did something happen?”

“Nothing” Hyuck mumbled, already gathering his stuff that’s on the bed and moving them to his table

“Did you guys fight or something? I swear you had the biggest smile on your face before I left”

“We just.. I just” Hyuck didn’t really know how to explain it.

He shouldn’t care this much about her but he does. He worries about her a lot. As they spend more time together and started to actually be friends, he also witnessed how everytime she’s about to open up a sudden switch flips and she’s closed off again.

He understood if she didn’t feel comfortable enough with him yet, they weren’t really dating but they were friends at the very least.

Hyuck wanted to know more about her but it’s always a step forward and three steps backwards with her.

“Want to talk about it?” Renjun asked, sensing his bestfriend’s frustrations

“It’s okay, nothing big to worry about” Hyuck answered with a tight lipped smile

The next day, Hyuck made it his mission to find Y/N after her morning classes. He knew she only had one class for today, from 7am until 10am.

Usually she goes back to her dorm and wait until Hyuck calls to grab lunch together after his own class ends. Now, Hyuck didn’t bother calling and went straight to look for her instead.

When Y/N reverts back to her thoughts, she rarely talks to anybody. Hyuck noticed that about her. When he says something, there’s a certain look on her face or a sudden change in her voice that tells him she’s starting to overthink about it. And when that happens, she doesn’t answer any of his calls for a couple of hours or until the next day.

After that she pretends nothing ever happened.

Hyuck made his way to her dorm, he’s only been here a couple of times to wait for Y/N but they rarely hang out there.

“Hi, is Y.N here?” Hyuck asked as the door opens up

“Uh and you are?” the girl asked back, Y/N’s roommate whom Hyuck had never met

“Haechan, Y/N’s boyfriend” he answered to which the girl opposite him frowned at

“She doesn’t have a boyfriend, please she’s had a long day” the girl said and almost closed the door again but Hyuck stopped her

“I am her boyfriend, you can ask her” he said, getting a bit annoyed with the girl infront of him.

He just wanted to talk to Y/N

“You stay here, I’ll ask her” she answered in a snarky manner then walked to the direction of Y/N’s room

The girl already felt drained and it’s only 10am. After her morning class, Y/N decided to just come back to the dorm and waste the rest of the day. Now that she didn’t have plans to grab lunch with Hyuck, her schedule was empty.

“Hey Y/N, there’s this dude at our door saying he’s your boyfriend”

The statement said by her roommate made her lift her head up from her pillows

“Hyuck’s here?” she asked

“He said his name was Haechan” her roommate replied, a bit confused

Y/N shook her head before standing up from her bed, “Yea, that’s him. Thanks” she grumbled before making her way out of her room

There she saw Hyuck standing by the door, rocking on his heels back and forth

“Aren’t you suppose to be in class?” Y/N asked making the boy look up at her

“Finished it like ten minutes ago, want to go grab lunch?” Hyuck asked back, he was hoping she says yes

“I have to get this paper started and i have a massive headache, why? are your friends going to be there?”

“Why do my friends need to be there?” with that question, Y/N looked at the direction of her roommate who was not so subtly listening to them. So she pulled Hyuck to her room,

“Why do we need to grab lunch together if your friends aren’t there? We’re not really dating you know” she mumbled.

And with that the truth came out. Maybe Hyuck was wrong to assume that they are friends if Y/N thinks he’s only hanging out with her because of the deal.

“No, but aren’t we friends too? Plus knowing you, you probably haven’t eaten anything today” Hyuck answered, Y/N avoided his gaze which confirmed his assumption

“That’s why you have a headache, let’s go we’re getting you some food” he said the grabbed her arm

The real reason why Y/N has a massive headache was because she stayed up all night thinking about this whole situation with Donhyuck. As she get to know more about him, he really did seem like a good guy.

She know understands why everyone gravitates towards him, why everyone can’t help but smile and laugh when he’s around.

At some point yesterday when they were studying together, her mind took off and started to think too much again. She didn’t want to depend too much on Hyuck knowing his whole thing will end.

She thought about when Hyuck said she could’ve just gone to the library or a cafe to study, like she used to, but instead she thought of coming over.

The reality was she now realized she does have something to lose. She might lose this sense of security and companionship that Donghyuck is now giving her.

“I really don’t feel well” Y/N mumbled, still not meeting Hyuck’s eyes

“We can just order in”

“No, it’s fine. I can just” “I promise I’ll go after you eat something” Hyuck cut her off.

He shouldn’t care this much, she thought. But she can see that he genuinely does care.

“Okay okay, I guess I do need the fresh air” her answer made a smile creep up on Hyuck’s face

The two made their way to a diner style restaurant. While waiting for their food to arrive, the two was just sitting side by side silently.

“Did something happen in class?” Hyuck asked, breaking the silence

“Huh?”

“You just seem a bit down, want to talk about it?”

“Just didn’t sleep well, nothing new” Y/N answered briefly, Hyuck understood she wasn’t ready to talk more about it

Comfortable silence took over again, Hyuck was reading through the menu even though they already ordered while Y/N steal glances his way every now and then

“Can I ask you a question?” Y/N told the boy, making him look up at her

“Sure, what’s up?”

“What happens after this? Like we never really discussed when this whole thing ends” she said while gesturing between the two of them.

Her question made Donghyuck freeze for a second because he honestly didn’t have an answer too.

“We can still be friends”

“Exes can be friends?” Y/N chuckled meanwhile Hyuck just rolled his eyes at her

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. For now, food” Hyuck said and just in time the waiter walked to their table with the food they ordered

“Hey, thank you” Hyuck heard Y/N say

“For lunch? we do this all the time”

“No, for just.. this” Y/N didn’t know how to put it in words exactly but the smile Hyuck had told her he knew what she meant

“No worries”

With that, the worries of yesterday were gone. It amazes Y/N how Donghyuck could start the storm in her mind but also stop it at the same time. How she feels this serenity with him but also feel so confused. She knew she could just ask, Hyuck was a straightforward person.

But for now she sits beside him, worries at the back of her mind forgotten for a moment.

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