#netflix i am under your bed give us content

[stranger-fanfiction-n-things]

CHAPTER 2: THE WEIRDO ON MAPLE STREET

This is an Original Character fanfiction. All Stranger Things characters and content are owned by Netflix and The Duffer Brothers.

a/n: I love writing about the Sinclair Family. In my opinion, on the show, you don't really know about them so I'm creating what I think they're like in my head.

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1,139

Masterlist

PART I || PART II

Tuesday November 8, 1983 - SINCLAIR RESIDENCE

I stroll down the stairs to the kitchen; nose deep into the flash cards I made last night for Kaminsky’s test. I am certain I will pass his test today. Once Lucas was inside, I continued to study well into the night and went to bed dreaming of molecules and the periodic table. I sit in my usual seat, setting the flash cards down. Mom is humming to herself while packing our lunches for the day and Dad is in the living room shuffling through his treasured record collection. Dad holds The Jacksons Destiny record in his hands, sliding the shiny vinyl out the pocket, he carefully places it on the turntable, turning the arm to drop the stylus. “Blame it on the Boogie” plays through the speakers. 

I bop my head to the rhythm arrangements. The Jacksons Destiny album is one of Lucas’ favourites. The smell of the chocolate chip pancakes stacked on a plate on the table are fluffy and thick. Another favourite of Lucas. I didn’t know Erica and Lucas came downstairs until I hear the chair beside me scrape across the floor. I smile at Erica who nods her head in acknowledgment.

“Good morning,” Lucas says quietly, pulling his chair out to sit. 

“Good morning, sweetheart.” 

“Morning, Lucas.” 

Mom and Dad say at the same time. The silence is awkward in the kitchen, despite “Push Me Away” playing softly in the other room. Mom walks to Lucas, kissing the top of his head. Lucas doesn’t squirm away like he usually does when she dotes on him, instead he leans into her touch. My heart swells. Dad clears his throat, sitting in his chair. He reaches for the newspaper on the table and begins to read but I don’t miss his eyes glancing at Lucas in between words. When Mom sits down, we all begin to help ourselves to food. Mom puts two chocolate chip pancakes on Lucas’s plate. 

“Thanks, mom.” Lucas says with a small smile. 

To my surprise, Erica hands Lucas the maple syrup which he accepts graciously. I feel like I am in a different universe this morning and everything is upside down. Our attempts of being discreet are poor, but thankfully Lucas doesn’t say anything about it. He seems grateful for our efforts. Like dinner last night, breakfast is quiet. Dad sips his coffee, Mom is neatly cutting her pancakes, Erica is eating in silence. All of us are watching Lucas, waiting for a slight wrinkle in his brow, a pout on his lips, a long sigh. Any sign of discomfort. But surprisingly, there is none. 

“How are the pancakes, sweetheart?” Mom asks, eyes hopeful. 

“They’re really good, Mom. Thank you.” 

“Do you want more milk?” 

“No, thank you.” 

“Okay,” Mom says, deflating a little. “If you need anything, I’m here.” 

Dad gives her a look that implies she’s laying it on real thick. Mom stares at him back and Dad backs down returning to his newspaper. I bite my lip to suppress my smile. 

“I’m fine, Mom, honest.” Lucas placates, gently. “I promise.” He looks at everyone at the table. 

“I heard from the Dreydon’s next door that there will be another neighbourhood watch for Will at 10. I’m going to join after I drop your sisters to school.” Mom replies. 

It’s been one full day since Will’s disappearance and the whole town was under careful instructions to avoid going outside at night. Half the town volunteered for the search party to find Will which meant The Academy will be closed until further notice. Dad shifts in his seat. I overheard him talking to Mom about the search for Will last night. They didn’t find anything. Hopefully, Mom comes back this afternoon with better news. 

“I’m also going to stop by Joyce to check on her.”

“Are you going to bring anything?” I ask, cutting into my pancake, chocolate oozes out the centre. 

“I wanted to bring flowers, but it seems…inappropriate.” Because Will isn’t dead.

“How about cookies?” I offer. “Chocolate chip is the easiest to make and I know they’re Miss Byers favourite.” 

“That’s a great idea, sweetheart. Though I don’t think I have enough flour to bake enough.” 

I cringe, smiling apologetically. I’m the baking enthusiast in the family. Last week I made gingerbread cupcakes with cream cheese frosting for Nancy, Barb and I for the sleepover at Barbs house. I completely forgot to tell Mom I used most of the flour. 

“Sorry.” 

“I’ll go to the store before the search party and buy a couple of bags. Did anyone want anything?” 

“Skittles.” Erica and I say at the same time. 

“Lucas?” 

“Can you get strawberry ice cream?” 

Mom smiles, touching his cheek. “Of course, sweetie.” She looks at Dad who is now sipping his coffee while reading the newspaper. “And you?” 

“I’m good. I don’t want anything.”

Mom arches her brow. “When I buy our children their snacks, I better not see you anywhere near them.” 

“I don’t eat our children’s snacks.”

“Charles.” 

“Honey.” 

Dad replies in the same singsong tone. Erica, Lucas and I smile at each other. Dad has a sweet tooth. He’ll deny it any time you bring it up, even if we catch him in the act. Mom hides the cookie jar from Dad, only Lucas, Erica and I know where it is. Though sometimes I see Dad with a couple in his hand when he’s watching television, but it’s always when Mom isn’t around. I secretly think, Erica is sneaking him cookies or he found the hiding spot and pretends not to know. 

“You and everyone at this table know that is a bold face lie. You think I don’t know you bribed my child with a doll in exchange for her to tell you where I hid the cookie jar?” 

Dad huffs, shaking his head. “I did not bribe Erica, I simply asked her what she wanted and she just so happened to tell me where the cookie jar is.” 

Erica nods her head in agreement. Dad avoids Mom’s stare, which is hard to do when you’re under it. Her stare can cut through glass. Dad clears his throat and looks at me. From the corner of my eye, I see Mom reach over to Erica and lightly pinch her nose. 

“You ready for the test today?” Dad asks me, changing the topic. 

I nod my head, trailing a finger up and down the edges of the stack of flash cards.  “Yes, but I’m still nervous Mr. Kaminsky will have tricky questions and I’ll sike myself out.” 

“Just remember to take your time and you’ll do great.”

“I’ll try.” I respond. 

“That’s all I ask."

“Unless it involves cookies.” Mom mutters above her tea cup. 

Even Dad can’t hold back his smile when we all laugh. 

#black fem reader #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things rewrite #dianasinclair #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson x female reader #sinclair!reader #steve harrington x black!reader #eddie munson fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x sinclair!reader #eddie munson x sinclair!reader

[utopianvoices]

past, present, future → b.chan

synopsis: Your best friend drags you to his high school reunion against your will, and never have you encountered such chaos. Alternatively, you go on the journey of making more friends, and a potential lover.

genre: high school acquaintances to lovers au; fluff, one second of angst

pairing: bang chan x reader

word count: 14.4k

warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption, kinda dialogue heavy (oops)

note: i am BACK with this mess of a fic. it took me too long to finish this, and i apologise for any shitty writing :3 thanks to my little babie @curanonemu​ for making sure i finished this and supporting me as usual muAH. new formatting on posts too weeeee (new year, new me fsdhfgs jk no)!! also, synopsis kinda sucks i’m sorry :P hope y’all enjoy! x

i.

You did not want to go for your high school reunion dinner. 

High school is a time for many that is either the best, or worst time of their lives. Forever friends are found there and painstakingly embarrassing memories are made in run down buildings with people you care about. Except, you didn’t have any such attachments. 

Those three years were nothing but a filler for you as you studied, helped out in the library, and hung out with one person you called your best friend. 

And on top of it all, it wasn’t even a high school reunion dinner meant for you.

The night the bomb is dropped on you, Changbin walks into the living room of the apartment you both share just outside the grounds of your university, and goes straight to the kitchen to fix himself a bowl of cereal because cooking and Changbin did not get along well. The apartment was way cheaper than the dorms your school provided, and it definitely did not have any nosy RAs who were just out there to torture students for their own viewing pleasure.

On top of all that, you could live with your best friend and not some random stranger who might very much as well be a psychotic killer. Perhaps, Changbin could have some questionable habits, like talking to himself in a baby voice while looking in the mirror, but nothing that threatened your life. 

You hear Changbin’s phone ringing from the kitchen as you aimlessly flip through the shows available on Netflix, deciding which new show you should watch and commit to, when your best friend’s boisterous laughter fills your ears. Used to the noise, you roll your eyes before increasing the volume of the TV, finally deciding to rewatch Sherlock.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re about to solve the known mystery together with Benedict Cumberbatch when Changbin walks in front of the TV, automatically eliciting a whine from you as you crane your neck left and right to catch a glimpse of the screen. 

“What the fuck, Bin?” You finally yell, frowning at the boy in front of you. Realising that he probably wanted something, considering the fact that he wasn’t moving till you asked him, you switch the TV off and settle back into the sofa, throwing him a death glare. “What do you want from me, pest?”

Something’s definitely amiss when you see Changbin shuffling his feet and looking at the ground, a guilty smile ever-present on his face. 

“Whatever it is, my answer is no,” you say distantly, leaning back into the sofa with crossed arms. “So give it up.”

“Oh c’mon Y/n! At least hear me out?” Changbin cries out loudly, dropping onto his knees with clasped hands. 

Heaving out a sigh, you slowly unfold your arms and lean forward, eyebrows raised as you nod at the poor boy in front of you. “I’ll hear you out. But don’t expect me to say yes.”

“Um...” Changbin starts, eyes darting around the room as he tries to find the right words. “So my high school friends are having a reunion dinner next week and I told them I’d go, but I also said I’d bring you along and they were too happy and so now I think you’ll have to come with me but-”

“Woah woah woah, a high school reunion party? Absolutely not.” 

It’s not like you had anything against his friends. You did have brief interactions with a few of them in high school and you knew they were pretty decent lads, but there was no way you were following Changbin to what was meant to be a friends’ gathering. 

“But why not!” Changbin whines, waddling over to you on his knees. “It’ll be really fun!”

“Yeah, fun for you,” you deadpan, staring at your pitiful best friend who has now resorted to throwing you puppy eyes. “They’re your friends after all, not mine.”

“That’s right. But they could be. Don’t you think it’s time you start finding more friends who are not me?” 

Changbin’s once pitiful eyes held something other than desperation at that moment; they held concern. 

It was true that you had no other friend other than Changbin. You knew lots of people, sure, but you wouldn’t call them your friends. With no friends to your name other than that one, it also wasn’t hard to guess that you never dated too. But all that mattered is that you were fine with it, right?

“You know that I don’t need any other friends. You’re more than enough for me. Truthfully, I don’t think I could deal with another Changbin in my life.” 

Your words incite chuckles from Changbin, but that doesn’t stray him from his original goal. 

“How about this,” he starts, opting to sit cross-legged on the floor because his knees were starting to hurt way too much. “You come to the reunion with me, and the moment you feel uncomfortable, we both can leave no questions asked. Deal?”

As tempting as that sounded, you knew it was not fair to cut Changbin’s precious time with his friends just because you did not want to hang out with new people. “That’s not fair to you.” 

Shaking his head, Changbin stares at you, the fire in his eyes clearly visible, and you know that he had made up his mind. “I don’t care. It’s either you follow me and we can leave whenever, or I don’t go at all.”

There was no turning back now. You knew that in the end, what Changbin wants, he gets. 

You sigh numbly before nodding your head in defeat, dreading the day that was to come where you had to leave the comfort of your apartment. 

With no warning, you’re engulfed in a tight hug by a nuisance chanting “thank you” a million times. You ease into the hug, wrapping your arms around him and giving him a light squeeze, before pulling back to see that he had a smile similar to the one on your face. 

“I guess you’re right about me needing more friends. I can’t be annoying you for the rest of my life, right?”

ii.

You’re once again reminded why you don’t go for social gatherings as you take in the various clothes strewn all over your room. 

“Hey- Woah, what happened here?” Changbin asks, bewildered at the sight in front of him. “It looks like a hurricane hit your room or something.”

“Yes, it’s called Hurricane Y/n Is Screwed,” you reply sarcastically, before sinking down into your bed in defeat. Looking up at your best friend, you decide to give it a shot and put on your most pitiful face. “Do I really have to go?” 

“Yes, you really have to go,” Changbin replies without sparing you another glance, as he sifts through the heap of clothes on your bed. “And get that ugly look off your face, please. It makes me want to barf.” 

Flipping your best friend off, you manoeuvre yourself such that you’re facing Changbin, and look upon him in curiosity. 

After what felt like forever, pieces of clothing are thrown at you, along with a reminder that you had three hours before you had to leave. 

“Three?!” You screech, causing Changbin to wince and cover his ears. “You should’ve told me earlier so that I have more time!” 

“What are you so loud for, you damn pterodactyl? And three hours is more than enough. We’re just going to a cheap restaurant a few blocks away because we’re all broke college students.” 

Huffing at your insolent best friend, you grab the clothes he threw at you and make your way to the bathroom, not bothering to contemplate his decision because you knew he had pretty good taste in fashion. In fact, half the clothes you had in your wardrobe were bought with him as your advisor, so you’re really in no position to criticise his choices.

You stare at your reflection and let out a nervous breath; you weren’t used to meeting new people, and there was no way you were going to be able to handle a hoard of newly turned adults. The last thing you wanted was to cut Changbin’s time short with his friends, and as you stare at yourself in the mirror, you make a promise to yourself that you’ll get through the night by whatever means. Even if it meant hours of torture.

Changbin, with absolutely no urgency, is sitting on the couch watching the fourth Harry Potter movie, when you walk into the living room, makeup half done and still dressed in your stay-at-home clothes. Boys, you think.

“I think I need to know who and how many people will be there,” you finalise, watching Changbin pick up the remote and pausing the movie at exactly when Cedric dies; poor chap. “ So that I can, you know, mentally prepare myself.”

“You really don’t, but okay. There’ll be nine of us, including you. Minho, Hyunjin, and Felix from the dance team, Jeongin and Seungmin from the baseball team, Chan from the swimming team, soccer team, and honours board, and Jisung who was pretty much useless like me.” 

“Wow.” 

“In my defense, you’ve seen all of these dudes at least once,” Changbin says, shrugging his shoulders. “Anyway, they’re all really nice and fun so you have nothing to worry about.” 

“Says you,” you mutter under your breath, before returning to your room to prepare for your doom.

iii.

The sign of the restaurant flickers periodically as you stand in the middle of the street with Changbin by your side. People brush past you as they hurry to meet their friends and families in the various restaurants lining the street, excitement evident in their steps.

Taking a deep breath, you push open the door. Immediately, a gush of warm air welcomes you, causing you to let out a content sigh.

“Hey Changbin!” A loud voice calls out from behind you, and the both of you turn in your place. The sight in front of you gives you equal amounts of anxiety and fear, as you wonder how you were going to handle the table of one, two, three… seven boys, including the embarrassment standing beside you, who was now busy doing some sort of weird wave in favour of a greeting. 

“Changbin, please,” you plead, burying your face in your hands as you willed for someone to transport you back to your apartment so that you didn’t have to face reality and stand next to your shameless friend. 

Chuckling sheepishly, your best friend finally stops, patting your back before walking towards the table at the back of the restaurant. “Oops sorry. Let’s go meet the rest!” 

Here goes nothing.

Reaching the almost-filled table, your eyes dart from face to face, trying to see if you could remember anyone currently seated in front of you. 

“Guys! This is Y/n, my best friend,”—at this, a few complaints erupt from around the table—”Gosh, fine. My other best friend.” 

Immediately, at least three people shout their greetings your way. 

“Hi Y/n! Nice to meet you!”

“Yo~ Changbin’s told us lots about you.”

“Y/n, sit beside me!” 

Exasperated, your eyes flit around the table, trying your best to smile at all of them (which honestly turns out to look more like a pained grimace). Luckily, there was one seemingly sane person present. 

“Shut up, everyone.” A boy with blue hair and sharp eyes shushes everyone. “Hi Y/n, it’s nice to have you here. I’m Jeongin.” 

At this, the once quiet table is back to chaos as complaints are directed towards Jeongin for sneakily introducing himself first. Taking advantage of the mess, Changbin guides you towards the empty seats and finally settles the both of you down. Now all the seats were filled, except for one empty seat left beside you. 

You’re about to ask Chanbgin about the empty chair, but before you can, he claps his hands, attracting everyone’s attention. “Okay, everyone will take turns introducing themselves. Seungmin, you start.”

The sandy haired boy seated on the right of Changbin waves both his hands while bouncing in his seat, reminding you of a puppy. “I’m Seungmin!”

Next is Jeongin, who just gives you a small smile. 

Beside him, you see a blonde haired boy, what is up with the hair colours, who just smiles brightly, eyes shining brightly and freckles visible. “Hello, I’m Felix. It’s great to meet you!” 

Taken aback by the deep voice, which was a total contrast to his cute appearance, you’re unable to hide the shock from your face. This triggers a bout of chuckles from the table; it was probably common for people to display similar reactions when meeting Felix. 

Before pretty boy (that’s what you decided to remember him as) could introduce himself, the black haired boy resembling a squirrel interrupts him. “I’m Jisung!” 

You recognise him as the one who shouted when you and Changbin entered the restaurant, and you’re about to acknowledge him when you’re cut off. 

“Oi Han, it was my turn to introduce myself! Who allowed you to skip the line?” 

“I do what I want,” was Jisung’s response, and pretty boy looked like he was one push away from murder. 

Just as you’re sure that you were about to witness a murder, Changbin chides the two boys and breaks up the petty argument. “Just introduce yourselves without any nonsense, please.” 

“I’m Hyunjin,” pretty boy mutters sulkily, giving Jisung a death stare. “And I can dance better than Jisung.”

“You motherf-”

“And I’m Minho,” the last person introduces himself, successfully cutting off Jisung’s profanity mid-word. “Sorry, don’t mind those two. They’re like Tom and Jerry.” 

Smiling weakly, you muster up the courage to introduce yourself to the four pairs of eyes staring at you. Hyunjin and Jisung were busy having a staredown, while Changbin was eyeing the meat sizzling on the grill. “Hi, I’m Y/n, Changbin’s friend. It’s nice to meet all of you. Thanks for having me here.” 

And just like that, everyone is back to their own conversations, with Changbin piling the perfectly done meat onto his plate. You take in a deep breath and look around the table at the happy faces. 

This isn’t so bad, you thought, a little chaotic, but otherwise entertaining. 

“They’re overwhelming huh?”

Any effort to mask your bewilderment vanishes as you catch the knowing look on Minho’s face. A guilty smile blooms on your face and you nod your head. “Just a little.”

“I get that,” he starts, but soon enough, there’s a content smile on his face that shows his love for his friends. “But at the end of the day, I know that these monkeys will be there for me no matter what, so I guess it makes it all worth it.”

Smiling softly at his words, you almost coo at the light blush dusting Minho’s face as reality catches up to him. 

“Ahem anyway. How’s living with Changbin?” He clears his throat before changing the topic, instinctively putting some meat on your plate before helping himself, earning a grateful smile from you. 

“It’s not too bad,” you start, feeling Changbin’s gaze on you after having overheard Minho’s question. “Except sometimes, he talks to himself in the mirror and it’s pretty scarring.”

“Y/n!” Changbin whines as Minho guffaws beside you, nodding his head to your answer, clearly having witnessed that side of Changbin before. “Wait till Chan comes. At least he’ll support me.” 

At the unfamiliar name, you furrow your brows and the name in the form of a question tumbles out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “Chan?”

“He’s not here yet,” Minho addresses your confusion, having heard your little slip up. “He had to oversee the training for the upcoming soccer match, being the captain and all, and apparently he had a tutoring session after. He should be here soon though.”

That explains the empty chair beside you. 

“Oh, he needs to get tutored after training?” You ask, feeling bad for the unknown boy. Having to absorb information after physical activities is torture. You couldn’t even focus after 40 minutes of gym. “That’s rough.”

At your assumption, a cat-like smirk spreads across Minho’s face. “Oh no, darling. He tutors after his training.”

There’s no way you’re to be blamed for the first thought that pops into your head after discovering that said Chan was responsible and smart. You’ve seen people struggling with just one extracurricular, and begging teachers for extra credits because of poor time management. 

So, it’s really not your fault that the first words that enter your head is, that’s hot.

Just then, the bell situated above the door rings, indicating that someone was entering the restaurant. You’re not bothered by it, until Felix’s deep voice fills your ear.

“Chan!”

It’s almost comical how slowly you turn towards the sound, blush threatening to fill your cheeks at your first impression of Chan, without even meeting him. And as Giovanni Torriano has once said:

Talk of the Devil, and he's presently at your elbow.

Your eyes follow the figure of the devilishly breathtaking boy walking towards your table. He’s still dressed in what you assume was his soccer jersey, black hair tousled from the wind and practice. Shaking your head, you rid yourself of that inappropriate thought and opt to stare at the bowl of radish that looked the most interesting to you.

“Hey guys!” Chan smiles widely at the group of friends, as a few of them immediately get up from their seats to greet him with their usual bro hug. He sets his things down beside Minho, and is taking his seat when he spots you. Confusion clear in his eyes, he looks around the table, silently asking for an explanation as to what a stranger was doing at their usual table. 

You realise his staring and try to introduce yourself, but you find yourself unable to form sentences as the reality of who Chan was hits you. 

The star swimmer of your high school’s swimming team, and the top student of every single year. He was the epitome of popular. Everyone knew his name, and apparently he had never missed one day of lessons or training. On top of that, he used to regularly tutor in the library.

“Oh, this is my friend Y/n!” Changbin pipes up, slinging an arm around you. “Same high school as us, and my roommate now.”

At this, the confusion clouding Chan’s hazel eyes clears up, and he turns to face you, extending a hand. “The one who used to carry thick books everywhere and helped out in the library right? I’m Chan!” 

Being the complete opposite of your best friend, you’re sure no one has ever noticed you in the library. You blend in perfectly with the shadows and shelves, and you didn’t usually help the students out, opting to arrange the books in the storeroom—the one small thing you could do to help out the aged librarian who brought you mouth-watering brownies every Thursday. 

The thick books, in your defense, was your attempt at trying to finish the Harry Potter series whenever you had the spare time. You never had to explain yourself because you never expected anyone to notice. Especially not the most popular guy in school who had a million other friends.

But there he was, in all his glory, eyes crinkled into crescents as he waits for you to shake his hand, seemingly remembering you when nobody else did.

A small nudge to your side from Changbin breaks you out of your reverie and you grab his hand, silently noting how soft they were. “Nice to meet you.”

Smiling at you, he gently shakes your hand before turning to the other boys, immediately making jokes and laughing along. 

“What was that about?” Changbin whispers harshly, eyeing you and Chan suspiciously.

“What was what?” 

“Chan remembering you! You’ve never even met before.”

Looking at your best friend, you shrug before reaching out for another piece of meat. “Beats me.”

Changbin opens his mouth to interrogate you more, when he’s successfully cut off by Seungmin. 

“Y/n! Tell us more about yourself! I’m bored of hearing about these idiots.” 

Jeers sound from around the table as you let out a nervous chuckle, aware of how everyone’s attention was on you. “Me?” You ask, pointing to yourself for extra confirmation. 

Yea!” Seungmin replies, nodding vigorously. “What are you doing now, and how was high school for you, and just everything!” 

Noting your hesitation, Changbin is about to step in to save you, but your hand on his thigh stops him. Looking at you curiously, he realises from your expression that you’re finally about to do what he had been nagging at you to do since day one of becoming your friend. 

iv.

‘Is it possible for a stomach to burst from too much laughing?’ is what runs through your head as tears stream down your face from laughing uncontrollably at another joke Jisung was saying. 

“Wait, I remember Changbin telling me that people used to refer to you as Baby Photos when you all played at the school shows,” you ask after you had recovered from your laughing fit, curiosity piquing. “What’s that all about?” 

At the mention of the familiar name, the boys let out groans and Hyunjin starts hitting Jisung. “It’s all Jisung’s fault!” 

“Basically, he somehow got ahold of all our baby photos and submitted it to the administration on behalf of us,” Changbin explains, rolling his eyes at the memory. “So if you see our yearbook, all eight of us have our baby photos instead of the actual photo we were supposed to submit.” 

How is that even possible?!

“We still don’t know how he managed to do that.” Chan answers your unasked question, shaking his head fondly at the ridiculous memory. 

At this, Jisung pipes up. “Everything is possible when you’re charming and handsome. You lot won’t be able to relate!” 

And you finally agree that the beating Jisung gets after was well deserved. 

“Restaurant’s closing in ten!” 

The owner of the restaurant, a nice old lady who had a soft spot for the boys, calls out from the back. She had already let all of you stay past her usually closing time, and even gave you some free side dishes, together with a loving chide about how the boys don’t come and visit her anymore. 

The screech of the chairs fill the place as everyone gets up, stomach and heart full from the meal and company. You smile to yourself, glad that you let yourself be convinced to follow Changbin because you had one of the best days in your life. 

“Did you have fun today?” Your best friend asks with a smug smile, already knowing the answer.

“Shut up,” is all you can say—a clear sign that you were admitting defeat. “It was okay.”

“That wounds me,” someone speaks up from behind you, having heard your conversation with Changbin. You whip around to see Chan clutching his heart and wearing an exaggerated hurt face. “I thought we had a connection.” 

“I-you, no, that’s not-what” you splutter, horrified at the thought of Changbin’s, and now apparently your, friends thinking that you didn’t have a good time with them. There was no way you could let them think as such when they had made you feel so comfortable, and have so much fun. 

Your stuttering and horrified expression does it, and Chan bursts into laughter. “I’m so sorry, it was a joke. But your face!” 

The guilt and regret is replaced with relief and irritation, and you smack his arm out of habit, something you always did to Changbin when he was being a pain in the ass. But as soon as you do it, you’re once again filled with regret because Oh my God it’s only been two hours, you’re not supposed to just smack people.

“Stop overthinking it, idiot,” Chan cuts you off, adding in a low tier insult to make you feel a bit better about your reflexes. “We’re friends now; all of us.” 

Friend to friends. Now that’s an upgrade.

You’re about to say something, when you’re cut off by Changbin screeching unceremoniously as he glances at the time displayed on his lockscreen (it’s a picture of the two of you making ugly faces—he refused to change it).

“Shit, we’re going to miss the last bus that leaves from here!” He almost shouts, grabbing his and your things. “Adios bitchachos!”

A snicker or two echoes through the empty restaurant at Changbin’s farewell, together with requests of bringing you the next time they meet.

“Make sure Y/n comes for the next dinner! Doesn’t matter if you’re here or not!”

Jisung earns himself a string of vulgarities from Changbin for that, as he guffaws and hi-fives Hyunjin. 

You’re barely able to say your farewell to the boys with Changbin dragging you out of the restaurant, but you manage to shout out a few words while waving. “Thank you for today! See you soon!” 

The bus arrives just as you reach the bus stop, and Changbin all but collapses on one of the empty seats from the running you both did. 

“I think I’m going to throw up.”

“You’re foul.” You’re staring at your best friend in disgust when he starts questioning you about the dinner, nausea forgotten. 

“So…” he starts, pivoting in his seat to face you, cheek leaning against his hand which rested on the seat in front of him. “For someone who was dead set on not coming, you sure looked like you had lots of fun.” 

Rolling your eyes at his words, you turn to face Changbin. “Isn’t that what you wanted? Me making more friends?”

“Of course, of course~” he drawls, smirk ever-present on his face. “And who do we have to thank for that?” 

“And you ask me why I don’t listen to you or ask you for favours.” Turning your attention back to your phone, you open up Temple Run in hopes of keeping yourself occupied for the bus ride back; but Changbin had other plans. 

Whining, he snatches your phone from your hands and slips it into his pocket. “Y/n! Tell me everything!”

“What do you want to know?!” you ask, exasperated. “You were there literally the whole time.” 

“Yes I know, but I want to know what you think of all my friends!” Changbin claps his hands in excitement, leaning forward in anticipation. “Well, our friends now.” 

You can’t help but sigh as you prepare for the long bus ride ahead—but somehow, you don’t miss the sudden warmth enveloping you as you recalled the past few hours. 

“First of all, Jisung and Hyunjin are hilarious, it’s like…”

v.

Two weeks later, and you’re knee deep in shit. Not literally, of course, but you might as well be. 

It’s the infamous hell month in your university, where every student (regardless of major) has a shit ton of assignments and tests to complete, and the library is open 24 hours for poor souls like yourself. 

It’s two in the morning when you’re working on your second essay of the day. There are crumpled balls of paper all over your desk and surrounding your bin, courtesy of your pathetic aim. 

“You’re cleaning everything up later,” Changbin speaks up from across the dining table you both were sharing to get work done, tapping away on his equipment as he works on some new beat. “I don’t expect every ball to go in, but to miss everything? That’s some serious talent.”

“Shut your mouth, Seo.” Flipping your best friend off, you finally push yourself away from the table, stretching a bit before making your way to the kitchen to fix yourself a bowl of ramen in hopes of satiating the beast growling in your stomach.

As you open each shelf, you slowly come to the realisation that you were completely out of snacks and food. Even the single frozen bag of peas and empty ice cream tub stares back at you in pity as you scan the fridge. 

Taking a breath to calm yourself, you slowly turn around to face your unsuspecting, so-called, best friend. Walking towards him, you knock the table a few times to get his attention.

He notices your presence, and removes his headphones to look at you quizzically, his full attention on your blank face.

“When were you going to tell me that you had consumed every single food item we have?”

It’s almost comical how quickly the blood drains from his face, as his eyes dart all around the room, skillfully avoiding you. If it were any other situation, you would’ve definitely laughed while falling onto the floor. But this wasn’t any other situation.

This was war.

And honestly, it would have been a war that you would’ve definitely won—if not for the loud sound your stomach just produced.

Narrowing your eyes at the accused seated a few feet away from you, you walk over to the countertop with your wallet, eyes not leaving Changbin for a second.

“I will deal with you when I am back from the convenience store.”

And with the sight of Changbin gulping imprinted in your mind, you slam your apartment door behind you and make your way grumpily to the 24-hour convenience store located seven minutes away.

vi.

The electronic chime sounds throughout the store as the part-timer throws you a friendly greeting from the counter. “Welcome!” 

Reciprocating with a smile of your own, you take slow steps towards the shelf with the various assorted packets of ramen, and your hand automatically reaches for your favourite one. Just as it comes into contact with the plastic, you can feel yourself salivating and your stomach growls in appreciation. It’s a myth, you think. There’s no way food like carrots and asparagus is what gets students through school. The only saving grace you have during this period is packets of ramen and chocolate milk. Countless numbers of assignments and tests are already torturous enough; healthy, tasteless food on top of that? No, thanks. 

Clutching the ramen packet in your hands like it was the treasure of your life, you walk towards the milk section to complete your meal with your favourite carton of chocolate milk. There was something about the combination of milk that combats the spice from the ramen, and you’re about to drop onto your knees right there and then to worship the people who invented ramen and chocolate milk, when you see the last carton being taken away right in front of your eyes. 

Without any second thoughts, you rush towards the person and grab their arm, already getting ready to pull out the sob story of how you absolutely need the chocolate milk to survive. Surprised by the sudden contact, the man holding the carton whips his head towards you, eyes wide. 

There’s a fleeting sense of familiarity that passes through you when you see the hazel peeking out from above the mask that covered the rest of his face, but you’re too preoccupied to dwell on the thought. Just as you’re about to open your mouth to beg, you’re cut off by an all too familiar voice. 

“Y/n?”

Huh?

You stare at each other for a few seconds before the realisation of who you were holding, no, clinging onto dawns on you. 

“C-Chan?”

In a lively city that thrived at night, there were a thousand other 24-hour convenience stores scattered all around in every corner. It also wasn’t everyday that you decided to go to the convenience store for food, opting to go to the grocery stores instead. So, if you calculated correctly, the chance of you bumping into Chan at 2:30 a.m. at that very particular store should be close to never.

Yet, there he was standing right in front of you, chocolate milk clutched in one hand. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Oh I came here to water my plants.” 

Plants? 

You’re more than confused, till you hear the soft snicker that escapes his mouth. Narrowing your eyes at his antics, you decide to bite back with a “Ha ha, very funny.”

“So… Are you planning to hold onto me forever?” Chan teases you, eyes gesturing to your hand that was still clutching onto him, before looking back at you with a twinkle in his brown eyes. “Because I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” 

With the whole bumping-into-Chan thing that happened, it had completely slipped your mind that you were still holding onto him. You snatch your hand away in horror, eyes widening as you feel the heat creep up your neck. “S-sorry.” And before you could stop yourself, you also continue to spill why you had grabbed his arm in the first place. “I was just craving for chocolate milk, and the one you took was the last carton left.” 

Looking back and forth at you and the carton, you start to feel like an absolute idiot, until he reaches out and pushes the carton into your hands. “You can have it then,” he says, and walks away. “Stay right there, let me grab some ramen and we can have supper together!” 

You stare at the carton for a few seconds, the droplets of water that formed on the outside cool against your fingers. On a normal day, you would have refused the milk vehemently, telling the other person not to worry and to have the last carton. But today wasn’t any other day.

And Chan wasn’t any other person. 

We’re friends, after all, is what echoes in your mind as you look up at the boy walking towards you, two packets of ramen in his hand and a carton of strawberry milk. Smiling at him, you finally express your gratitude for his kind sacrifice. 

“Thanks for this,” you say, waving the carton in front of him. “I don’t think I would have made it through the night without it.” 

Nodding with a smile, he tears his two packets of ramen open and pours in the hot water that was situated at the back of the store, grabbing yours from you in the process. “What brings you here at this hour? I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t be craving ramen and chocolate milk in the middle of the night on any other day.”

“You’re right about that,” you reply dejectedly, recalling the big pile of assignments waiting for you back at the apartment. “It’s hell month in school, and I’m drowning in work. On top of that, Changbin exhausted every single food source we have at home!”

Chan does his very best to hold back his laughter at your expression; he knew you were angry, but you looked as threatening as a kitten. And thankfully he succeeds, because he really did not want to be on the receiving end of your wrath. Although, he thinks, you really are not going to be able to do much damage.

“How dare he,” Chan agrees, finally taking a seat beside you, the steam from the ramen warming his face up. “Hey but, if he hadn’t done that we wouldn’t have bumped into each other here.” 

You nod your head in agreement, thinking about how to start a casual conversation, when you are suddenly hit with the realisation that you knew essentially nothing about Chan. You didn’t know what university he went to, what he majored in, and what he was doing in the convenience store that late at night too. 

One question at a time, you decide. 

“What are you doing out this late anyway?” you ask, slurping the noodles and breathing out in relief at the taste of the ramen against your tongue. 

“I come here often,” is what he replies, before taking a sip of his milk. “My uni’s about fifteen minutes from here, and I usually work the best at this time. Being a music production major, there aren’t very strict deadlines, but I’ve still got to get my shit done.” 

Oh. That’s all your questions answered. 

You know the trouble of trying to get questions out, especially for you, who has never really made the effort in going the extra mile in interacting with people. It’s annoying and nerve-wrecking, and probably the biggest reason why you refused making new friends. The whole process was just painful. So, when Chan answers your unasked questions, you feel the hypothetical weight lifting off your shoulder, and you open your mouth to express your gratitude. At least, that’s what you had planned to do. 

“Are you a mind reader?” you blurt out, before immediately clamping your mouth shut and facepalming. “Ugh, sorry. I have a really bad habit of blurting out whatever comes to my mind.” You groan at your inconvenient habit, and Chan pats the top of your hand in hopes of comforting you.

“I just meant to say that I was thinking of asking you those questions and you answered them even before I asked.” Chan looks at you with a smile, intrigued by your personality. You clearly didn’t have any other friends other than Changbin—but you never looked as if you were upset about it. It was also clear that you were content with not interacting with people, but when you did, you were never rude about it and you really did try your best. Never in a million years would he have thought that the student scurrying around the library with tons of books would turn out to be someone like you. 

“At least that means you’re an honest person!” Chan says, beaming at you. “C’mon, learn to look at the brighter side of things.” 

Shrugging your shoulders with a tired smile on your face, you turn back to your ramen, which has now gone soggy due to your little chit-chat with the boy beside you. 

There’s a comfortable silence that hangs between the two of you, until Chan speaks up again. “What’s your major? I realised I never asked.” 

At the mention of school, you pull an automatic stank face before replying. “English Lit with a minor in Philosophy. The worst decision of my life.” 

“And why’s that?”

“I never knew there’d be this much essay writing!” you cry out, throwing your head against the table. The rest of your words come out muffled, but somehow Chan manages to catch it. “I mean, I knew there was going to be lots of essays. But not this much.” 

“In the major’s defense, that’s kind of a dumb move on your part, Y/n.”

“Yes, I know. Please don’t remind me of my idiocy.” You finally sit up, before sadly chewing on your noodles. “At least I have ramen and chocolate milk to keep me going.” 

And as the night went on, both of you continued the conversation back and forth, you learning more about him and him about you. You talk about your assignments, how annoying some of your professors were, and how living with Changbin was. All the times you had to chase him to clean up after himself, or all the times he stayed up with you until ungodly hours just because you had procrastinated too much and was rushing an assignment in the last hour. You also learnt more about Chan; how he was studying music production because that was his dream since he was young, and how he actually roomed with Jisung, who was equally as messy as Changbin. The only difference was that Chan couldn’t be bothered about the mess. 

“Changbin, Jisung, and I actually used to make tracks and post them on Soundcloud,” Chan says, smiling as he recalls the three high schoolers cooped up in his room with the bare minimum equipment that wiped out half their savings. “We even had rapper names.” 

“Ooooo~” you tease, nudging his shoulder as his ears start to turn a bright red. “What was yours?” 

“What’s in the past should stay in the past, Y/n. Let bygones be bygones. No point talking about it now.”

“Awww, c’mon!” You plead, fidgeting in your seat. “Was it something embarrassing like Cheminem, or something?” 

“I can’t help but feel more relaxed when your standards are that low,” Chan says, with some form of relief in his voice. “Uh, mine was CB97.” 

“Don’t tell me…” you mutter, eyes wide as the laughter threatens to escape your lips. “Did you really just use your initials and your birth year? Talk about bare minimum!” 

“Hey! It’s better than Meminen, or Cheminem, or whatever you said earlier.”

Sticking your tongue out at him, you decide to probe further. “What were Jisung’s and Changbin’s?” 

Chan stares at you with wide eyes, your mischievous eyes giving away your evil plans. “No. Changbin will kill me.”

“Don’t be a party pooper! I’ll treat you to ramen next time if you tell me.” You try tempting Chan with food, with no hopes that it would work. But somehow, you see his resolve crumbling, and realise that you just needed one final push. 

“I’ll get you chocolate milk and two packets of ramen.” 

At that point, Chan regrets telling you his habit of eating two packets of ramen with chocolate milk almost every night when he stays up. “You shouldn’t have given me the milk then!” is what you said while chiding him, and he just claimed that “you looked like you needed it more than me” while saying that he really wasn’t picky about the flavour of milk. 

So when you tempt him with his cravings, he has no choice but to give in.

Twenty minutes later, you walk into your shared apartment, a mysterious smile playing on your lips as you drop the keys into the little holder by the door. It was made by yours truly during a random pottery workshop you signed up for. The shape was slightly off, and the colour wasn’t bright or vibrant—but it worked and that’s what mattered. 

At the sound of the keys clinking in the holder, Changbin’s head shoots up to gauge your mood from your expression. Surely you would be at least a little less angry after your little run to the convenience store, he thought. 

But instead of seeing a blank expression, or even an angry one, he sees the smile on your face and his heart drops. Why were you smiling? The fact that you were smiling made him feel a hundred times worse, and he had already started saying his prayers.

“So, Changbin…” you start, leaning against one of the chairs at the dining table. You weren’t even angry about the empty shelves anymore, but you just could not pass on the opportunity of teasing your best friend. “Or should I say, SpearB?”

And you’re more than content with the way his face morphs into that of horror, as he grips the edges of the table. “How did you know?” he asks, his voice strained and barely above a whisper; one would think that the whole world had found out about his darkest secret from the way he was reacting. 

Shrugging playfully, you go back to your seat and sort out the papers scattered around the table, grabbing your laptop to start working on your assignment again with a full and happy stomach. “Who knows~”

“Y/n, tell me,” he starts to whine, making his way to you on his roller chair. “No one knows other than the boys-”

And the realisation of who the culprit was hits him.

“It was Chan, right?” he asks, already reaching for his phone to scold the older boy. “You must have met him when you went to the store—he’s always getting ramen there.” Typing furiously on his phone, he pauses to look up and whine again. “I can’t believe you two gossiped about me! And it was me who made you both become friends. The disrespect!” 

Finally the laughter you had been holding in breaks out and floods the living room, the sound bouncing off the walls. “I can’t believe,” you start, trying to catch your breath as you continue laughing. “SpearB! What do you do? Impale people with your sharp flow and rhyme?”

“Just shut up, please,” Changbin pleads, plugging his ears with his fingers. “La la la, I can’t hear anything you’re saying.” He rolls back to his side of the table and grabs the headphones, shoving it over his head to drown out your laughter. 

Your laugh fest is cut off by your phone vibrating, signalling that you had a new text message. Grabbing it, you tap your phone a few times to open up the messages page. 

chan: can’t believe you outed me to changbin chan: traitor y/n: drama queen y/n: i said nth, he figured it out on his own chan: ఠ_ಠ

Giggling at the emoticon Chan used, you unconsciously lean back in your seat as you search your gallery for an emoticon to reply with, assignments forgotten. 

“Who’re you texting?” Changbin asks, having heard you giggle at your phone. He’s eyeing you suspiciously, and you knew it was better to answer him, because a curious Changbin is a dangerous Changbin, and he’ll probably stomp over and snatch your phone to see who you were texting anyway. “It’s Chan.”

“When did you two exchange numbers?!”

“Earlier, when we met at the convenience store.” 

It was right before the both of you parted ways; when Chan had proposed something that was pretty much impossible to turn down. 

“I had fun today,” he said, one hand stuffed in his pocket while the other swung the plastic bag containing some chocolates to add to his secret sweet stash. “You said you’re having hell month, right? Hit me up whenever you need an emergency ramen run.” And with that, he pushed his phone into your hands, signalling for you to do the same. 

Smiling to yourself, you keyed in your number into the phone clutched in your hand, saving yourself as “Y/n”, and before you could regret your decision, you quickly added a smiley after your name and tossed the phone back to Chan. “Here you go.” 

The cool metal is being pressed into your hands, and before you know it, you’ve said your farewell to Chan and were on your way back home. 

“Look at you socialising out of your own will,” Changbin states proudly, wiping an imaginary tear as he gives you a fatherly (or what he thinks is fatherly) smile. “Albeit, at the expense of my shame, but if it means my little Y/n making more friends then why not!” 

“Please stop, you’re an embarrassment to me, yourself, and literally everyone around us,” you deadpan, clearing your side of the table up. It was time to call it a night, because God knows you’re not going to be able to do anymore work. “Besides, it’s really not that big of a deal. I doubt we’ll continue talking after tonight. It’s probably a one-off thing.”

“Hmmm I wouldn’t be too sure,” Changbin muses. “I feel like there’s something that’ll come out of this.”

vii. 

Seo Changbin isn’t a lot of things. 

He isn’t tidy, opting to throw his clothes all around his room instead of folding it; he isn’t patient, always screaming at you to “Hurry your ass!” when he had been waiting barely three minutes; and last but not least, he definitely isn’t punctual. “Changbin is my name, and being late is my game” is something you’ve heard way too often from him that it was a wonder you hadn’t murdered him yet.

Changbin isn’t a lot of things—but what he somehow is, is intuitive when it comes to you.

So when you find yourself back at the convenience store at 12:30 a.m., ramen and chocolate milk in front of you as you laugh over some stupid story Chan was saying, you can’t help but curse at how right your best friend was. 

You were reaching the end of your hell month, which also indicated it being four weeks since you and Chan had developed the routine of pigging out at the convenience store at terrible hours. 

“... and he just fell off the tree!” Chan concludes his story of how Hyunjin fell off a tree in high school, words coming out breathless due to how much the both of you were laughing. “Ah, that brings back memories.”

“I can’t believe I never talked to you guys more then,” you say, shaking your head slightly. “It would’ve been hilarious.”

“Someone was too busy with Voldemort,” Chan teases, pushing his nose down flat in what you could only describe as a Voldemort impression. Laughing, you swat his hand away while rolling your eyes at the boy you’ve grown so fond of in a span of four weeks. “Why’d you never talk to us?” 

Thinking back to high school, you ask yourself. Why didn’t you ever bother talking to them?

“I guess it’s just cause I already had Changbin,” you start, pausing to think back to the past few years. “As much as I complain about him, he’s really one of the greatest best friends anyone could ask for.”

It was true; Changbin was there for you during high school like no one else had been, and for that you were eternally grateful for him.

“So you were scared to take any other chances since you already got the best?” 

People always asked you why you didn’t make more friends in high school. Hell, even your mother kept asking, when other parents struggled to keep their children at home just because they were spending too much time out with friends. But the answer to that question was something you never thought about, and you can’t stop the feeling of shock spreading through your body at what the boy in front of you had just so casually uttered. 

You were scared.

“I-I…” you stutter, eyes wide as you stare at the boy in front of you. Chan can’t help the worry that seeps into his face at his words, and he’s starting to wonder if he said anything wrong. “I’ve never ever thought about it. But, oh my God, that makes so much sense.” 

After years of waving everyone who asked you why you never made any other friends away just because you yourself didn’t have the answer to the question, you’re hit with a huge realisation of just why you didn’t want to find more friends. And it wasn’t even you who figured it out. 

This boy sitting leisurely in front of you, skin pale and soft, with messy black hair framing his face that he never bothered brushing away. This boy, who was as kind as he was hardworking, always willing to help out anyone, even with his own responsibilities. This boy who had been readily there for you at the devil hours for almost every day in the past four weeks, always checking up on you to make sure that you were surviving.

Never in a million years would you have expected someone to figure out something that was locked away so deep inside of your heart, and for it to be Chan, out of everyone. The thought makes your heart race a little, but you decide to blame it on the conversation the both of you were having. It was definitely not because of the boy seated beside you.

“Shocking, huh,” Chan starts, laughing slightly as the worry he had felt earlier replaced with something he could only describe as fondness. “It’s a pity though.” 

You look at him questioningly, and what he says next makes you realise a few things that maybe you were better off not realising. 

“We would’ve been much happier in high school with you there. I would’ve been much happier.” 

As much as you regretted not befriending the other seven boys in high school, you were starting to regret bumping into Chan that very first night even more. If you hadn’t bumped into him, you would’ve never spent so much time with him, never realised how great of a person he was, and lastly, you would’ve never started falling for Bang Chan.

viii.

It’s like déjà vu.

With your exams and assignments completed, you find yourself watching the latest season of Haikyuu when Changbin enters the room, waltzing towards your reclined figure. 

“Y/n~” Changbin starts, poking your shoulder to get your attention. “Whatever your annoying ass needs now, it’s a no,” you say without even turning to look at the boy beside you.

“Oh? Even if it was an invitation to dinner with the boys later tonight?” 

And when your head whips to the side to look at your best friend, you’re so tempted to just wipe that smirk clean off his face, because the bitch knew you would have said yes.

“I fucking hate you,” is what you can mutter, before switching the television and throwing the remote to the side, choosing to ignore Changbin as you walk towards your room to pick an outfit. But you’re forced to stop in your tracks when Changbin casually utters the next few words.

“Chan’s especially excited to see you.”

You’re not sure what Changbin means by that, but there’s no denying the increase in your heart rate at the mention of the dimpled boy. 

“What?” You try your best to sound as nonchalant as you could, hoping that your best friend wouldn’t pick up the slight quiver in your voice. But, of course, he wasn’t your best friend for nothing. 

“I said, your little boyfriend’s excited to see you.” Changbin smirks at your expression, stretching his legs out to rest it on the coffee table in front of your sofa. “And it looks like you’re just as excited.” 

Red travels up your neck and spreads across your face, as you sputter at your best friend’s preposterous words. “W-what are you- I- Huh-”

Realising that your little breakdown wasn’t helping your case at all, you take a deep breath to calm yourself, before speaking to the insolent brat in front of you. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“But you like him, don’t you?”

You freeze like a deer caught in headlights, and the first instinct you have is to play dumb. “O-of course I like him. He’s my friend.”

“I will pretend like I did not hear that pathetic attempt of you trying to act dumb,” Changbin states robotically, rolling his eyes. “C’mon, Y/n. It’s obvious. So stop pretending and just fess up. It’ll be easier for the both of us.” 

You had two choices now: Either fess up and prepare yourself for at least a thousand years of teasing, or just completely deny it till your deathbed. 

Clearly, the second option was much more appealing. 

“No, Changbin,” you snap with as much conviction as you could. “I do not have a crush on Chan. He’s just a really good friend.”

The knowing look on his face wavers, and you know that you’re seconds away from success. It’s not that you did not trust your best friend with the information of you having a crush on one of his friends. You just did not want to say it out loud—saying it out loud would mean that you were confirming it, and there will be no going back. And that scared you. 

You were scared of liking someone who was way too perfect, and who probably would never like you back. 

So the best solution was to keep your little crush hidden away in the depths of your heart, and slowly get over it as soon as you could. It was as easy as it could get.

ix.

Apparently, you realise, it wasn’t at all easy to get over a simple crush. 

The smell of meat fills your nostrils as the eight boys chatter loudly over the sound of the sizzling of the food. You’re back at the same restaurant, with the same boys, except it wasn’t exactly the same as the last time. 

This time, you had a raging crush on the boy who insisted on sitting beside you, leg brushing against yours every few seconds as he piles the food on your plate instead of his. 

It definitely didn’t help that every time your hands brushed while reaching out for the side dishes around the table, you pulled your hand back as if you had just been burned, ears immediately heating up. 

“Did you know Chan told Y/n about 3RACHA?” Changbin whines to Jisung, making him stop his actions mid-way, meat hanging from the chopsticks just a few inches away from his mouth. “All I heard the past few weeks was ‘SpearB, help me’, ‘SpearB, go there’. It was torture.”

The table goes silent at the new information Changbin had revealed, and all you can do is smile sheepishly as your friends stare at the both of you. 

“These two have been meeting almost everyday the past few weeks to get ramen at weird timings, and I’m pretty sure Y/n has lots of quality dirt on us now,” Changbin says pointedly, completely ignoring the way your eyes widened because why would he just say that?

It already wasn’t easy keeping Changbin in check with his little fantasies every time you went out to meet Chan, and now it was going to be worse because you just knew that the six other boys were going to question you from their expressions. 

You turn to look at Chan, expecting to see the same ‘busted’ expression on his face, but all you see is a guilty smile, before he opens his mouth to speak. “In my defense, I was bribed.” 

“Yes but, you never told us your 3RACHA names even after we kept begging you for weeks,” Hyunjin speaks up, eyes wide in disbelief. “We had to bribe you with a new game for your console, but you just told Y/n after two packets of ramen and chocolate milk?” 

Your heart rate picks up speed just a fraction after hearing Hyunjin’s words, and you can’t help but feel a little special that Chan was comfortable enough to tell you things he refused to tell others. There’s a small smile playing at your lips as you look at the boy beside you, who was now rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly as he tried his best to defend himself from the accusations that were now pouring out from all his friends. 

Unbeknownst to you, your own best friend was watching the both of you since the night started, a glint in his eye as he catches the way you threw small glances at his friend, blushing every time your hands brushed or when Chan purposely picked out the meat that was grilled best to put on your plate. 

He also didn’t miss the soft smile playing at Chan’s lips every time you laughed at another stupid joke Jisung cracked, head thrown back slightly as you clutched your stomach, or the way his eyes widened every time you leaned a little too close to him to reach for a side dish. 

Fools, is what he thinks when he eyes his two best friends. Fools in love.

The night goes on, and it’s Changbin who proposes a game of who can finish a bottle of soju the fastest to make things more exciting. You already know how it was going to end when you see the soju bottles crowding the table, all screaming the obvious outcome of the night.

“Rule’s simple. We’ll have two people against each other, and the one that loses has to pay their opponent’s share for tonight’s dinner.” 

You notice Changbin avoiding your eyes as he speaks and distributes the bottle, which could be attributed to the very scary death glare you were throwing right at him. 

Here’s the thing—your alcohol tolerance was shit. And Changbin knew that, making you wonder what he had planned up his sleeve.

“Right, here’s the lineup,” he announces, making it seem as if the lot of you were in some world championship of sorts. “Hyunjin and Jisung”—there’s a loud ‘Die, bitch!’ that resounds from Jisung as they both get ready to win against each other—“Seungmin and Felix, Minho and Jeongin, and Chan and Y/n!” 

You were going to kill that idiot. 

Changbin starts off the game with a recap of the rules, and makes sure that everyone has their own bottle of alcohol. Disaster is the only word flashing in your mind, and you’re on the verge of ditching your friends to return to the comfort of your room. 

“Jisung and Hyunjin first!” Changbin instructs, to which the two boys grab their bottles and have a stare-down with each other. 

“I’m gonna win so hard, your ancestors are gonna feel it.”

“Let’s see you try, pretty boy.” 

On Changbin’s cue, the two boys start gulping down the alcohol, and you visibly cringe at the ghost feeling of the taste on your tongue. 

“Are you okay?” Chan whispers from beside you, eyebrows furrowed. “It’s a stupid game. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.” 

There’s a grateful smile on your face as you shake your head, letting the boy know you were okay. “I’m fine. Just worried because my alcohol tolerance isn’t that good, and I don’t want to inconvenience all of you.”

“I promise I’ll take care of you,” Chan mutters softly, staring right into your eyes. The smile slowly drops from your face as your heartbeat echoes in your ears at his words and the way he was looking at you. You so badly wanted to look away, not being used to such eye contact, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at you that makes it almost impossible for you to tear your gaze away from his twinkling eyes. 

The sound of a bottle being slammed onto the table snaps you out of your little moment with Chan, and you immediately turn away to look at what was happening at the table, taking deep, cleansing breaths to calm yourself. 

On the other side of the table, you realise that Hyunjin was the one who finished his bottle first, now having the time of his life teasing Jisung, who had about one quarter of the bottle left. 

All the boys, except Chan and Felix, were laughing their asses off—Felix was the only one comforting Jisung, while Chan was staring at the table, an unreadable expression on his face.

“There, there. It’s okay, Sung,” Felix coos, patting Jisung’s hair, as the latter sulks at his loss. 

The next two rounds proceed quickly, with Seungmin and Jeongin emerging as the winners. Everyone stares shell shocked, as Jeongin gulps down the liquid with vigour and speed, and slams his bottle down onto the table with a grin.

“There’s no way! I can’t believe Minho lost to a baby!”

“Just because he’s the youngest doesn’t mean he’s a baby, Changbin.” Seungmin deadpans, swiftly moving the empty bottles to the side of the table. “And how come you’re not participating?”

“Someone needs to bring Y/n back,” Changbin shrugs, passing the bottles to Chan and you with a guilty smile in return to your scowl. “And I’d rather stay sober when taking care of drunk children.”

You turn to pass the bottle to Chan, quickly avoiding his gaze when he looks at you. You’re not confident in your abilities to keep the blush down if he was going to look at you the way he did before. 

“Okay,” Changbin cues, making sure both of you were ready with the bottle caps off. “Ready, set… Go!”

You didn’t mind paying for Chan’s share for dinner, you really didn’t. But if there was something about you that was both your downfall and pride, it was your competitiveness. You were competitive to the point where you tended to disregard the consequences of your actions. 

So, your brain doesn’t register the painful consequences of your actions as you gulp down the bottle of alcohol like your life depended on it. You weren’t the best drinker out there, but you were going to try your very damn best because it was a competition. 

With no expectation of winning, you swallow the last drop of soju and slam the bottle back onto the table, when you realise that everyone was staring at the two of you with their mouths open—specifically at Chan.

Following their gaze, your eyes widen in surprise as you see the boy holding an almost half-full bottle of soju, clearly indicating that you were the winner of your little game. 

It’s like a dam breaks, and suddenly everyone’s shouting at the unexpected outcome. Hyunjin and  Jisung scream while looking back and forth the bottle and Chan, while Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin sit with wide eyes and open mouths, unable to process that Chan just lost to you.

On the other hand, Changbin watches Chan with a smirk, which slowly drops when he realises that Minho, who was sitting beside him, was staring at him with raised eyebrows, clearly asking the question ‘What the fuck just happened?’.

Just as he’s about to pull Changbin to the side to question him, you shoot up from your seat, stumbling around almost immediately because of the sudden bout of dizziness that hit you. You fall back onto your seat as fast you had gotten up, and Chan wraps an arm around you almost instinctively, making sure you didn’t fall off your seat. 

The table is back to having their own conversations a few minutes later, as if they weren't just screaming over your victory, with Hyunjin and Jisung having a rock-paper-scissors tournament between themselves, proposed by Jisung who was still sore about losing to Hyunjin.

Alcohol clouds your mind as your head lols back and forth, with soft giggles spilling from your lips. In your drunken state, you register the arm wrapped around you, and you turn your head to look for the owner of said arm. 

Chan looks at you with the fondest smile as he tries to hold back his own chuckles at how cute your giggles were, at the same time being extremely conscious of the way you fit perfectly around his arms. He thanks his lucky stars that you were drunk as he held you, assuring him that there was no way you were going to hear how fast his heart was beating. 

“Oh?” you drawl, squinting at the boy beside you. “Who might you be?” 

And at that very moment, Chan hopes with all his heart that there is no one else who will get to witness what he was seeing right in front of him. 

There are strands of hair covering your face, cheeks red from the alcohol (and from the close proximity to him, but he doesn’t need to know that) and eyes drooping from the oncoming sleepiness. Yet, to him, you were still the most beautiful in that moment. 

“I’m Chan,” he replies sweetly, hesitating for a moment before adding more to the sentence. “Your friend.”

An exaggerated gasp escapes you as your eyes widen comically. Words tumble from your mouth, with hiccups disrupting your sentences every now and then. “Chan? Bang Chan? From high school? The really, um-" hiccup "-cute boy who tutored in the library? The super popular dude? You’re my-" hiccup "friend?”

There’s a light pink flush dusting his cheeks at your words, but he laughs nonetheless while nodding, finger reaching out to tap your nose. “Yes, I am.” 

Scrunching your nose at the contact, you continue giggling when the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupts the little exchange you and Chan were having. Chan turns to face his friends, and immediately starts coughing when he realises that they had been watching the whole scene with amused expressions. He awkwardly retracts his arm from around your waist, only for you to get up and stumble over to where Changbin was sitting, arms reaching out towards him while making grabby hands. “Changbinnnn~”

You plop yourself onto his lap, arms encircling his neck as you pull his ear closer to your mouth. Used to your drunk antics, he concedes, knowing that he’ll end up with more damage if he didn’t listen to you when you were drunk. 

When he is close enough, you cup your hands around your mouth and whisper into his ears. At least, you thought you were whispering. 

“You have really cute friends, Changbin.”

The whole table erupts into cheers at your words, and you immediately cover your mouth with a horrified expression. “Did everyone hear that?”

“You weren’t very quiet, darling,” Changbin snorts, pulling you up with him as he stands. “How are all of you getting back?” 

“We’re all crashing at Felix’s place,” Seungmin speaks up, tapping away on his phone. “The uber’s about to arrive… right now.” 

Grabbing their things, everyone except Minho, Chan, Changbin, and you, make their way out of the restaurant, shouting out hurried farewells and promises of ‘I’ll wire the money to you when I get back!’ to Changbin. 

“Okay, Minho and I will go settle the bill,” Changbin says, readjusting his grip on you. “Chan, can you look after Y/n for a bit?”

“Sure,” Chan replies, looping your arm around his neck as his snakes around your waist. “We’ll be out at the front.”

The moment Chan leaves their sight with you by his side, Minho turns to bombard Changbin with all the questions that had been bothering him the whole night.

“What was that?” Minho asks in bewilderment, pointing to the door that Chan and you had exited from. “How on earth did Chan lose that game when he’s the best drinker amongst all of us?!” 

“It’s called being in love,” Changbin scoffs, shaking his head at his two friends. “Disgusting.” 

The distressed look on Minho’s face dissolves, and is replaced by what one could describe as enlightenment. “No fucking way. I was wondering why he kept smiling at them like an idiot. That explains so much! Have they confessed?”

“You think?” Changbin rolls his eyes, knowing that there was no way either of you had the courage to confess first. “The only way either of them will confess is if they are drunk.” 

“But Y/n is dru-” Minho starts in confusion, when he stops mid-sentence, realising what Changbin had just done. “You evil genius.”

“What can I say,” Changbin states proudly, brushing imaginary dirt off his shoulder. “I wonder what’s going on outside,” he mutters under his breath, staring at the door. 

On the other side of the door, Chan finally succeeds in getting you to sit down with him on a curb, his jacket folded neatly under your bottom to make sure that you were not sitting on the hard cement. “I’m tired,” you whine, head dropping onto the warm shoulder beside you. 

Chan tenses up at the sudden contact, staring at the top of your head, when you nuzzle your cheek against his shoulder. At the feeling of your cheek against his shoulder, he relaxes, and positions himself such that you didn’t have to strain your neck. 

There’s a comfortable silence between the both of you, until you decide to break it by asking Chan a very obvious question.

“We’re close friends right?” 

You lift your head from Chan’s shoulder, almost whining out loud at the loss of comfort, but you decide that asking him that question was more important. Clearly, drunk you had very different priorities. 

Chan just nods and replies with a soft “Of course”, wondering why you were suddenly asking that question. “Why?”

“Since we’re close friends, can I tell you a secret?” The last few words are spoken in a hushed whisper, as you reach out and grasp Chan’s soft and warm hands. His larger hands clasps yours, as he chuckles at your question. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Y/n. You’re drunk, and you might regret telling me when you sober up.”

“No!” You almost shout, alarming Chan who looks around to make sure no one heard your exclamation. You continue in a softer tone, to Chan’s relief. “You’re my close friend! So I won’t regret it.” 

And the wide smile you show Chan almost makes him want to kiss you right there and then. Almost. 

“Alright then,” Chan agrees, rubbing circles into the skin on your hand. “Go ahead, tell me your secret.”

Giggling, you use your free hand to beckon him closer, your face moving closer to his at the same time. Just as his ear is close enough to you, you whisper out the words that make his heart stop. 

“I think I like you.” 

He freezes in place, eyes staring at the black tar road ahead of him as his heart hammers against his ribcage because of your nonchalant words. He gulps before slowly turning to face you, the person he had grown to like more than he could ever imagine coming into his view. He takes quick, shallow breaths as he continues to stare at you, unsure of what to say. 

Luckily (or unluckily, for Chan), you decide to continue talking, baring your heart and soul to him. 

“It’s like...” you start, trailing off after your first two words, before finding the right words to continue. “It’s like I was always happy in life, but you made me realise that it was possible for me to be happier when you are there with me.”

And the smile you give Chan, accompanied with the words you had just uttered, makes him want to protect you from the rest of the world. He’s not sure if he loves you, but what he’s sure about is that all he wants to do is hug you and never let go, to be there for you every minute, every second. And he thinks that’s enough. 

That’s enough reason to hold onto you and never let go.

Opening his mouth, Chan is about to reply to your drunk confession, when the sound of soft snores fill his ears. 

Leaning against the light pole that was situated very conveniently behind you, you had fallen asleep in the split second Chan had taken to make his move. Your chest rises and falls with every breath you take, and Chan can’t help but breath out a laugh at your timing. 

There’s always tomorrow, he thinks.

x.

There’s white noise playing in your ear as you stare up at your ceiling.

Changbin is seated at the edge of your bed saying something important, you assume. You aren’t listening; your brain cells have decided to go on a strike and replay the scene from yesterday on loop. 

I think I like you.

You want to scream. You want to scream and murder the boy sitting beside you so bad. After all, it was his fault that you ingested that goddamn devil liquid that made you spill more than your guts. 

It was a wonder that you were able to find a friend as precious as Chan, and there you lay in despair, all thoughts of facing Chan again slowly slipping away from your fingertips. There was absolutely no way you were going to be able to see him after the stunt you pulled yesterday. 

“Y/n, are you listening?!”

“No.” 

A hand wraps around your arm and you feel yourself being pulled up, coming face-to-face with your distressed best friend. “Stop being stubborn. Calm down and listen to what I have to say.”

And that’s when you snap.

“Stubborn!?” you shriek, clutching the ends of your hair. “I just confessed to your friend, Seo Changbin. I was drunk, and I confessed my very large and real crush to the person I am crushing on. I have ruined any chance at friendship with him, so don’t tell me to stop being stubborn and to calm down!”

Taking a deep breath, Changbin pulls you towards him, both his hands resting against your cheeks. “Listen here. Stop being a wuss. Yes, you confessed when you were drunk. Yes, it’s embarrassing as fuck. But get over it. You know Chan. Is he the kind of asshole who drops friendship over small things like rejection?” 

There’s a pout playing at your lips as you shake your head, partly due to the way Changbin was squishing your cheeks, and the other half because you knew he was right. 

“But I still don’t want to face him yet,” you whine, pushing his hands away from your face and diving back into your covers. “I just want to wallow in self pity, and hopefully waste away on this bed so that I’ll never have to face anyone ever again.”

Changbin knows that there was no convincing you otherwise, so he settles for sighing and getting up from your bed. 

“Don’t stay in bed for too long. I’ll order us food for later.”

Muttering something under your breath, you roll over and bury your face into your pillow, sighing as you think about the boy whose smile gave you more warmth than the sun could ever provide.

You’re in the midst of imagining how different today would’ve been if you hadn’t opened your dumb mouth when your phone rings and cuts off your thoughts. Reaching out for it, your mouth runs dry when you see the name displayed on your screen.

“Chan :)”

Your finger presses the decline button and your phone clatters against your bedside table as you decide that you are not ready to talk to Chan yet. And you’re not sure if you’ll ever be ready to talk to him, let alone face him. 

A minute after declining the call, there’s a series of knocks on your door, and you shout out a “Go away!”, not wanting to hear anything related to Chan and how you need to stop being a coward. But as the knocking continues, getting louder as time passes, you start getting annoying and realise you have no choice but to open the door.

“What the fuck do you want, Chang-”

You cut yourself off as you take in the person standing in front of you with wide eyes, looking as handsome as ever even with the furious look painted on his face. 

The silence is thick with tension, and you can’t help but avert your eyes, choosing to look at anything but the boy in front of you. 

“Why are you ignoring me?” Chan asks, voice quiet and flat. “I’ve been calling and texting you all morning.” 

“Um, I-” you start, not knowing how to answer his question. You imagined your day going various ways, but this definitely wasn’t in your plans. “Did Changbin call you?”

“I asked,” he starts, walking towards you. You take a few steps a back, and continue walking backwards until your hands come into contact with your dresser. You were trapped. “Why are you ignoring me, Y/n?”

You blink rapidly, not used to this closed-off version of Chan. The usual warmth and softness in his eyes were missing, and instead all you saw was disappointment and anger. You open your mouth to speak, but it wasn’t easy to get the words out. 

“Was it funny messing with me?” Chan continues, not breaking eye contact with you once. “To just get my hopes up and disappear like it all meant nothing?” 

“W-what?” 

“How was it so easy for you to just start ignoring me?” 

“No I-”

“Is that all I mean to you?” And instead of the disappointment and anger, you see pure, unfiltered hurt, and that was enough for your walls to come crashing down. Tears well up in your eyes as you look at the boy in front of you, and it’s like a dam breaks. 

“I’m sorry.” Sobs wreck your body as you wipe the tears that don’t seem to stop. “I-I’m so fucking sorry, Chan. I was scared.”

“Scared because you just said that in the spur of moment and you don’t actually mean it?”

“No, I was scared because I like you too fucking much!”

There’s a pregnant silence between the two of you, and you continue staring at the floor, vision blur with stubborn tears that refuse to fall. And that’s when you hear it.

A chuckle. 

It’s soft, and you would’ve missed it if not for the pin drop silence in the room. 

You slowly lift your head up to confirm if you actually heard what you heard, or if you were hallucinating, when you see it. 

Chan was smiling. 

“Can’t believe it worked.” 

What on earth did that mean?

“W-what do you mean?” you ask, sniffing softly. 

“This was Changbin’s idea. For the record, I was against it.” Chan’s hands come up to rest on your cheeks, his thumb wiping away the tears on your cheeks as he smiles softly at you. “I mean, of course I was hurt and worried. But I just wanted to come over and talk it over like a normal person.”

His smile widens as one hand continues cupping your face, while the other reaches to tuck the one stray strand of hair behind your ear. “He said you’ll never admit things unless I, uh, scared you a little.

You stare at Chan as the gears work in your head, putting the pieces of information. The moment the last piece clicks in place, you stare in shock at the boy standing in front of you with a sheepish smile.

“What the fuck?!” you yell, equal parts of relief and anger taking over your mind. “I fucking hate you!”

And with that you storm off towards your door, Chan chasing after you with apologies spilling from his mouth. But the both of you knew that you weren’t actually upset, which can be seen by the giggles accompanying every apology.

Just as you’re about to leave your room, you’re pulled back into warm arms, and you fight every urge to melt right into his embrace. His arms wrap around your frame tightly, but gently. You feel his strong heartbeat against your back, and it’s enough to make you shiver, goosebumps erupting all over your skin. 

“Do you hate me?” Chan asks, chin resting on your shoulder as you feel his breath tickle your neck. 

“Yes.”

“Really?” Chan asks in amusement, lips against your ears and voice just above a whisper. “That’s a pity then. Because I like you too fucking much too.” 

He whispers the last part of the sentence, making your knees go weak and your heartbeat pick up its pace as it usually does whenever the boy who stole your heart was involved. 

You turn around in his arms to face him, sighing contentedly at how things ended up turning out.  “I’m really sorry about the ghosting.”

“It’s okay, love,” Chan assures you, the pet name inducing butterflies in your stomach. “I would’ve been embarrassed too, if I had confessed to you when I was drunk.”

“I would’ve loved to see that.” You whine at the unfortunate circumstance of you confessing instead of Chan. “I probably looked like an idiot while confessing.”

“Since I’m your boyfriend, can I tell you a secret?” Chan teases, repeating what you said the night before with a little twist. Smacking his arm lightly for the jab, you nod with a laugh, ignoring the way your face heats up when he refers to himself as your boyfriend.  

“I really wanted to kiss you when you were confessing.” There’s mirth in Chan’s eyes as he gazes at you the same way he did back at the restaurant. The only difference was that you knew he liked you back. And you had never been happier. 

“Go for it.”

And that’s all the confirmation that Chan needs to lean down and press his lips against yours in a feather-light kiss, as your hands rest on his chest, appreciating the strong beat his heart was playing. 

You part a few seconds later, eyes still closed as a smile plays on both your lips, before you’re pulled for another kiss, this one more forceful than the one before. His lips press against yours harder, and his arms pull you closer—as close as you could be. You respond with equal fervor, pouring every emotion you have into the kiss, when you’re interrupted by a loud cough. 

“I would appreciate it if I didn’t have to bleach my eyes every time I see the two of you.”

Oh. 

It completely slipped your mind that Changbin was just a few steps away from your room, and you want to crawl under your bed and befriend the monster there when you see the haughty smile on your best friend’s face. 

“I think a thanks is in order.”

Removing yourself from Chan’s arms, you walk over to Changbin, who smiles wider when he realises you are walking towards him. Opening his arms to welcome you in for a hug, he can’t help but shriek when you start punching him everywhere possible.

“Dude, what is wrong with you?!”

“That’s what you get for coming up with stupid ideas to get me to talk!” you snap at your best friend with words that carry no real bite. “Were you that desperate?”

“Clearly!” Changbin replies, exasperated. “It was getting depressing. He wouldn’t stop calling me because he was worried, and you were being a stubborn bitch!” 

At his words, there’s a tinge of guilt that pinches at you when you realise the trouble you had put your best friend through. 

“Okay, I’m sorry,” you say with a pout, burying your face into Changbin’s shoulder. “And thank you.”

“Yes yes, you’re welcome,” Changbin says with a soft smile. He wouldn’t admit it just yet, but seeing his best friend who meant the world to him end up with someone who just as much deserved nothing but the best made him eternally grateful. “Now go smooch your boyfriend. We don’t want him becoming too jealous of the attention you’re giving me.”

“Oh, shut up,” is what Changbin gets in return, as Chan intertwines his hand with yours. Just as Changbin walks out of sight back to his room, Chan turns to you with the biggest smile.

“Now then, shall we go on a date to celebrate our first day?”

“Absolutely.”

And as you and Chan sit on the beach that evening, surrounded by sand and accompanied by the sound of the waves and the soft breeze with a orange hue enveloping you, you think:

Life had never been sweeter.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #stray kids #bang chan #stray kids fluff #stray kids oneshot #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz oneshot #skz x reader #skz fluff #chan x reader #bang chan imagines #bang chan scenarios #bang chan oneshot #dee scribbles

[corpsedaydream]

Can i uhhh request a headcannon/consept of corpse just carrying you around and picking you up -🐱

lets fucking gooooooo

_______________________________

carry on

the first time

it’s quick and enough to leave ur mind wondering about what else he could do. you’re at his place and the both of u aren’t the best in the kitchen but tonight u decided to make a meal together. a learning experience. but ur getting a little restless and boy oh boy ur in a ‘i know i’m being really annoying but i just can’t stop being annoying’ mood. and so ur doing little things like poking his side. or when he asks u to retrieve something ur deliberately getting something else. but he’s had enough when he’s about to chop something and u decide on playing a game of chicken by whipping ur hand out over the chopping board. he’d place the knife down and suddenly his hands are on the sides of you and he’s hoisting u up on a part of the bench that’s close enough to still watch but far enough away that u can’t reach anything to keep pestering. “don’t move.” he’d tell u, along with a chaste kiss against the corner of ur mouth. and u listen. bc u knew u were being annoying as hell and also bc it’s the first time he’s ever really lifted u and ur a little thrown off but also excited.

koala cling

when u haven’t seen him in almost two months. and fuck did u miss him so much. you’d jump into him and if he wasn’t ready for it, the two of you would’ve fallen over. but he was so ready, because fuck, he missed you too. your arms would wrap so tightly around his neck and your ankles would cross behind him to lock your legs around his middle. his arms would link so unbreakably around your waist. but even if he was to let go, u wouldn’t go anywhere, u were clinging onto him for dear life.

the jellyfish sting

holy shit it took u so long to convince corpse to go to the beach with u. and of course the one day he finally agrees, it’s the day a jellyfish wraps itself around ur leg and stings u to hell and back. he would be sitting on a towel, not quite ready to venture into the ocean like u did right away. and it seemed he made the right choice bc it was only a few minutes later u were doing an awkward run out of the water and once you’d hit the shore you’d drop down and try to unravel the sea creature from around your leg. he’d hear your sounds of pain and hurry down and at first he’s really not sure what to do. but once he saw the red straps of pain that were quickly forming into welts on your skin, he’d scoop you up. one hand around your back and the other under your knees. he’s extra careful to not bump the stings. there’s no life guards around bc u came to a more secluded beach where not a lot of people went so he’d carry u to the car and place you inside ever so cautiously.

drunk

he’d gotten a call at 1am. actually, he’d gotten about five calls. the first four kept ending quickly bc ur drunken self would get distracted by one of ur fellow drunk friends saying something and you’d accidentally hang up on corpse. only to call him back a minute later. eventually, he’d come to learn the point of the call was wanting to be picked up. and so there u were in his passenger seat on the way home, drunkenly babbling about the antics u and ur friends had gotten up to. he was taking u back to his place bc it was closer. once u both got there, he lost patience with ur slow, drunk stumble kind of walk and instead, hoisted u up in his arms, deciding it was going to be the quicker and more safer way for u to make it to his front door.

over shoulder

ur both in chaotic yet playful moods. and it’s lead to a game of murder in the dark. corpse is too good at being it. each time he finds u, he gives u a scare bigger then the last. this time is no different. he’s spotted u and he’s creeping up ever so silently and when he’s within reach, he yells and uses his strength to lift you up over his shoulder. u yelp at the sudden fright, but laughs quickly follow as you dangle over him from where he’s placed u. “i don’t think murder in the dark is meant to be a contact sport.”

a piggy back

the sun is going down. the sky looks to be hand painted in pinks and oranges by mother nature herself. u were so distracted by the beautiful visuals that u hadn’t felt ur legs going to sleep in your cross legged position. it didn’t help that corpse was in front of u, leaning back against ur legs and front, sending them further into numbness. u were feeling too content, looking at one of your favourite things to look at and having one of your favourite people in your arms. he hops up first when the sunset is almost gone completely. turning to look at u with a questioning look when u don’t make any effort to move. “i will literally fall over and die.” u over dramatise. he laughs but then he’s crouching back down in front of u. “hop on.” and so u do. ur arms wrapping loosely around his neck and your legs hooking over his hips. he’d be sure to get a good grip on your thighs before standing to his full height, shuffling u up a little higher so u could lean comfortably against his back and leave some sweet kisses to the back of his neck.

splash

u could almost fall asleep in ur current position. sun baking was not good for ur skin, but u couldn’t deny that u loved the feeling of laying out by a pool and feeling the sun beaming down on u. that is until a familiar pair of arms are slinking around u and a familiar laugh is sounding out as u gasp in surprise at the sudden lift. “corpse, no-” but it was all so quick, the hold he had to lift u from ur sun baking spot is quickly gone as he instead tosses u right into the pool.

am baby

u were fast asleep on the couch. he knew this would happen. u only had two more episodes left of a show u were watching and u were positive u could stay awake for them. but there he found u after he showered, eyes closed, slow deep breaths leaving ur slightly parted lips, sleeping soundly and missing the episode u had assured him u were going to stay awake for. had the couch been a little bigger, he’d leave u there. but the two seater would cause u to awake feeling all stiff and sore. he turned off netflix first before concentrating on picking you up. “mmm, lemme’ sleep.” you’d whine out croakily, being stirred awake upon feeling his arms slip underneath you. “gotta get u to bed, baby.” he’d respond. “gonna pick u up, okay?” he’d give u a warning before making sure his arms were around ur relaxed body securely to lift u up safely. the movement would wake u a little more but you’d quickly find yourself now resting against corpse. your torso pressed against his as he held you like a baby. he’d be leaning back slightly to support your deadweight, sleepy self. a smile present on his face as he could feel your slow, deep breaths fan over his neck as u rested ur head on his shoulder as he carried u to bed.

playtime in bed

ik what ur thinking and stop it!!!! lmao. u were mindlessly watching instagram stories in bed when u came across someone doing acroyoga. “look,” u tilt ur phone screen towards corpse and he see’s the look on ur face. “we can’t do that.” “why?! it’ll be fun, let’s just try once.” and he rly struggles saying no to u when u get all excited and that’s how the two of u found urself in this position. him flat on his back with his arms stretched upright to where his hands held tightly onto yours. his legs were also up, his feet pressed into your hips as he started to lift u higher. “isn’t yoga meant to be relaxing?” he’d question, bc all he could focus on was not dropping you and it was stressing him out while u just found the whole thing too funny and couldn’t stop laughing. “lift me higher.”

#corpse #corpse husband #corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #corpse imagine #🐱anon #writing #mine #request #Anonymous #answered

[marktuansvevo]

got7 reacts to something theyve never experienced before in a relationship

warning(s); slight cursing, sexual content in bam’s part

mark; being jealous

mark understood why his past partners could be jealous of him in his line of work. as long as it didn’t get out of hand, he thought it was cute. he was never the jealous one in the relationship. he didn’t even know what jealousy felt like....

....until tonight.

you were mark’s entire world. you excited him, you built him up like no other. never before could he see himself spending his life with someone before you came along. you made the world brighter to him.

but now he was only seeing red. 

you had been a trainee and never debuted, which you weren’t too upset about, you had a boyfriend you loved and a career with less physical and time demands than being in the entertainment industry. this meant that you knew a lot of other bands, stray kids being one of them. chan was, quite frankly, your best friend during your trainee days, so when you saw him at this afterparty you were attending with mark, you threw yourself into his arms.

mark just watched you from afar.

and his blood boiled.

chan spun you around in his arms, the biggest smile on his stupid, handsome face. “yah!! y/n! mark didn’t say you’d be here.”

you giggled, trying to keep your tears at bay. you put your hands on his face, poking his dimples. mark scoffed at the blush that was forming on his friend’s face. “god, chan i missed you so much.”

“bro, you look constipated,” bam snuck up behind him. “dude, your face is so red right now.”

mark rolled his eyes. “these parties are so annoying.” he didn’t take his eyes off of you as you caught up with chan, who still had his hand around your waist.

bam followed his line of vision. “shit, you’re not constipated, you’re jealous. yugyeom, come look at him!”

mark walked away from his intoxicated friends and up to you. you smiled at him before returning to your conversation with chan. 

“y/n, we have to go,” mark said lowly, smiling a sickly fake smile at chan, who immediately dropped his hand from your waist. 

“why, baby, we just got here? are you not feeling good?” you asked. he wanted to feel bad, your voice was laced with concern.

“something like that. see you, chan.”

as you got in the car, you smiled at him, poking his cheek. “somebody’s jealous, huh?”

“huh? of chan? i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he clenched his jaw, not making eye contact with you as he steered his car out of the parking lot. you were giggling now.

“you’re cute when you’re jealous. maybe i should make more time for chan.”

“y/n!!!”

jaebeom; wearing disguises in public

jaebeom never thought he would have to dress up in a disguise to go out in public. and jae would never want to put you in such a position. it was draining, and you, as his girlfriend knew that he despised it.

but you wanted to go to a concert with him.

and you wanted to stand in the pit with him and be part of it. don’t get you wrong, you loved when he bought you suite seats or could watch his shows from backstage, but you wanted to sway to ariana grande in th pit with your boyfriend.

“cmon, jae, i think everyone is going to be paying attention to ari. we can skip the opening act?” you suggested.

“y/n, i don’t want to take a chance...im sorry,” he pouted at you. you sighed, trying to figure out what to do.

“what about disguises?” he said. “like, we could wear our halloween costumes?” you were giggling to yourself, but your boyfriend seemed like the idea.

“i could wear my jesus wig and you could paint a beard on me?” he said with serious eyes.

“jae, you hate going out in disguises.”

“true...but, babe, this will be fun. you could wear your sailor mars wig, it’d be cute,”

okay, this was a really cute idea and you were warming up to it...if it made your boyfriend more comfortable to be out in a crowd of so many people, you were down to try it out.

“this really feels like halloween in july,” you giggled as you used mascara to draw a beard on his chin.

“do I look like jesus??” he asked childishly.

“well, you don’t look like im jaebeom of got7, that’s for sure,”

“you look like an egirl,” he laughed at himself. “don’t hate, you know you love it,” you said. “we look so cute, let’s take a mirror selfie and post in later,”

“no, then people will be on to us,” your boyfriend sent a pout in your direction as he looked at his makeshift beard in the mirror. “I look sexy as fuck in a beard,”

“super sexy aegyo please?”

the two of you arrived at the arena, not be noticed by anyone, but jae was still on edge, so you held his hand tight as you made your way into the pit.

“im so excited!!” you shouted over the noise. he shook his head before leaning in to kiss you. the two of you danced the whole night away to arianas crooning, his arms around you as you swayed to her pretty, soothing voice. the two of you let the world fade away while ariana sang honeymoon ave in the background.

jackson; his significant other saying ily first.

it was no secret that jackson was stock full of love and kindness. he had had other partners before you, all with him ending up getting too attached, or scaring them away when he said “I love you” too early.

he did not want to scare you away, and honestly, he had known he loved you two months into dating, but he didn’t want to scare you away, so he never outwardly said those three little words to you.

he wasn’t expecting you to say it, first though.

you had invited him over for dinner and a movie, just wanting a chill night in with your boyfriend. he brought the wine and promised to give you a back massage, so really, what more could you want on this chilly thursday night?

“what’s been going on, honey? you know you can tell me anything,” jackson whispered into your ear as he helped you out of your clothes.

“I feel like I deserve to oversee my department at work. i have the most education of all of them, more experience than them, and generally, I am more optimistic than my superiors….,” you sighed, letting him rub just under your shoulder blades, which had been itching all week.

“mmm?”

“i think they might be scared of powerful women who like to wear hot pink fendi suits to work,” you smiled, knowing he would be offended at your joke. you could almost feel him pouting.

“so the reason you can’t get the job is because your superiors don’t like the suits your boyfriend buys you? wow, what a way to hurt a guy’s pride…,” he followed your lead on the joke, trying to make you laugh because he knew this was really getting to you. “baby, I think you should go to their boss and see if you can get a promotion…tell them everything you told me, okay? i know you’re not only the best woman for the job, but the best person for the job…period,” he said, making you feel so overwhelmed with emotion. none of your previous partners had ever revered you the way jackson had. you felt so incredibly blessed and in love, you couldn’t help yourself.

“god, jackson, I love you so much,” you whispered.

the movement of his soft hands on your back stopped abruptly at your words. ‘oh god, was it too early to say that?’

“j-jackson…im sorry-“

“ive been waiting to say that to you,” he breathed against your lips, closing the distance that was between them.

“jackson wang….you love me?” you could feel the tears building. the man of your dreams was in love with you, too.

“i love you,” he whispered reverently.

“say it again,” you begged. he said it like a mantra.

“i love you, i love you….i love you..”

jinyoung; moving in together

jinyoung thought you were so cute. you were ecstatic to move with jinyoung. you had been living in your shared apartment with your mom your whole life and we’re excited to start a new chapter of your life. jinyoung didn’t think you were taking in the fact that moving is one of the most stressful things a person can go through.

he didn’t want to rain on your parade, though.

the two of you got settled into your new apartment after a long day of unpacking. jinyoung kissed you as you laid onto your new king sized bed. “im gonna grab takeout, you want your usual?” he asked sweetly, squeezing your hand. you just nodded, squeezing his hand back.

you watched as jinyoung walked out of your shared bedroom. that’s when the dam broke. you were so overwhelmed. you didn’t know how to make warm water happen in your shower, you didn’t have your wifi set up, and you forgot your favorite teddy bear at your moms. you missed teddy and your wifi and your mom.

“hey, i ordered you two egg rolls and they gave us three - hey, baby, are you crying?”

“no,” you replied lamely. “I miss teddy,” you wailed miserably.

“teddy...the...stuffed bear?” he asked.

“i slept with him every night for the past 20 something years.”

“baby...we can get your bear in the morning...,”

“we don’t have netflix set up so how am i supposed to sleep tonight?”

“y/n...,” he chuckled. you frowned harder now that he was laughing at you. “moving isn’t as exciting as it looks. tomorrow, we will fix the wifi, okay? and we can visit your mom and rescue teddy.”

“okay...okay. im sorry, im just a bit overwhelmed,” you confessed.

“its gonna be okay, honey. it’s a lot to take in, i know. but you can hold me instead of teddy, and ill sing you to sleep,” he whispered, the takeout now long forgotten. before you could fall asleep, he pulled his iphone out of his back pocket and pulled you into his chest to take a selfie. “there. now we have a picture of us in our bed for the first time.”

“i love you, you sap.”

even though you called him the sap, the next day you went to the pharmacy to get the photo printed and frame it. when jinyoung came home from the market that day, he eyed the frame on your bed stand, smirking at you.

“oh, so im the sap, hmm?”

youngjae; picking up the tab

it was the first date the two of you had been on since youngjae had been on tour. he told you to get dressed up and that the two of you would go out for a fancy dinner and catch up on everything. this is why you loved him, because while you wanted to hear all about his stories of life and tour abroad, he always wanted to hear about everything that was going at home, to see if you were alright.

youngjae looked dazzling in a black checked suit, while you matched him with a little black dress that made him groan when you stepped out of the bathroom. “can we skip dinner?” he’d ask cheekily. you rolled your eyes at him before kissing him on the cheek. “we aren’t skipping dinner, and we definitely won’t be skipping dessert,” you winked before leading him to the car.

the two of you ate dinner together, him holding your hand and looking at you with stars in his eyes as you told him stories that had happened while he was away. you ordered appetizers, drinks, shared an entrée, and youngjae even ordered you a slice of apple pie for the two of you to share.

“baby, I’m going to go use the restroom,” youngjae said before kissing your hand. “’kay, don’t get mugged, please,” you teased him. he shook his head at your playfulness. you watched as he left before frantically waving your arms at your waitress. she ran over to you, checking if you were alright.

“I just wanted to wonder if I can pick up the cheque really quick? I wanted to pick it up for my boyfriend as a surprise,” you spoke in a hushed tone, making the waitress giggle. she nodded her head before handing it to her. you handed her your credit card, thanking her before your boyfriend had any suspicions of what you were up to.

youngjae came out of the bathroom as soon as the waitress set the cheque down. you were applying your lipstick so you couldn’t snatch it in time. you watched as his pretty brown eyes scanned the receipt, looking confused as ever. “is this a joke? what kind of waitress lets the girlfriend pay?”

“jae,” you giggled. “you don’t always have to pay for dinner. I wanted to treat you…I missed you so much,” you confided, watching his expression from anger into warmth.

“oh, thank you honey, you are so sweet and thoughtful, I love you so much,” you let him wrap his suit jacket around your arms before planting a kiss to your forehead. “but that will be the last time you ever do that.”

“shut up, i like doing nice things for you,” you pouted.

“since you paid for dinner tonight, i have to put out, right?”

he ran to the car before you could slap him in the chest.

bam; his s/o borrowing his clothes

remember how joey never shared his food? well that’s how bam was with his wardrobe. he was very particular about his clothing, not letting people borrow them at all. yugyeom used to steal his clothes just to be petty and piss his best friend off. he had never let past partners borrow his clothes, and nothing was going to change, it wasn’t his fault, it was an obsession. if you were sure of one thing, it was to not steal your boyfriends clothes.

but one day, while he was gone from work, you thought you would take pictures of yourself in only one of his blazers to tease him.

you weren’t expecting him to walk through the door while you were trying to take self timer pictures of yourself.

“baby? what are you doing?” bam asked, laughing as you let out a squeal of surprise.

“i..i wanted to surprise you...,” he tsked, pulling away to look at his blazer. “i know you don’t like me wearing your things..,” you stammered as he circled you.

“you have such pretty things, though, bam,”

“you look so sexy in this,” he purred. “you were trying to get me worked up while im trying to work?”

“u...uhhh,” you couldn’t think coherently with you boyfriend acting so domineering. you gasped as he slid his hand up to your cunt, rubbing your clit in little circles. “bam...please...,” you groaned. 

“keep the blazer on,” he said as you writhed in his grip.

“its gonna get all sweaty though and then you’ll yell at me,” you teased him as you followed him to the bed. 

bam just groaned. “baby, im sorry I haven’t let you borrow my clothes before but you look better in them than me. now, let me fuck you and i promise you can have anything you want in that closet.”

he knew exactly how to shut you up.

yugyeom; his s/o buying him flowers

yugyeom was always so stressed during comeback season. you always scolded him when he forgot to eat, or wasn’t staying hydrated enough, but you were so proud of him. seeing the smile on his face and the way he walked a little taller was so worth it.

he was still busy during comeback season, coming home late after all the videos he had to shoot for publicity.

one night, yugyeom had gotten home around midnight to a bouquet of pink roses and a handwritten note from you. it read; “I am so proud of you, my love. congrats on breath… I can always feel your love,” he blushed and giggled to himself, thinking, “isn’t the guy supposed to buy the girlfriend the flowers?” he wandered into your shared bedroom to see you sprawled into his side, with your book in your hands, a soft snore leaving your lips. he nudged you, not intending to wake you up, he could thank you in the morning. but he did accidentally. “yeom?” you whispered. 

“shh, baby go back to sleep,” he shushed, changing into his pjs. 

“did you like the flowers?” you asked, suddenly awake now. 

“theyre really pretty, baby, but aren’t I supposed to buy you the flowers?” 

you narrowed your eyes at him. “not my boyfriend being a sexist,” 

“yah! y/n stop it, I didn’t mean it that way!! I love them, you remembered I said I love roses,” he was pouting now, pulling you into his chest to spoon you. his voice got quieter now. “no one’s ever remembered my favorite flowers…much less bought them for me,” he paused, kissing the back of your neck before closing his eyes and falling fast asleep.

he was whipped.

#got7 #got7 scenarios #got7 reactions #got7 preferences #got7 writing #got7 imagines #park jinyoung #mark tuan #choi youngjae #kim yugyeom #bambam #jackson wang #im jaebeom #got7 writings

[tloujm]

Part XXVI: Giving Grief

Author’s Notes: This is the first chapter I’ve posted in months (literally since April). I don’t know if this is a full comeback. I have a few chapters in the drafts that need to be edited and formatted for posting but after that, I still plan on continuing the series bc my plan was always have a long fic. With no new content after part II of the game was released, my interest in the fandom waned but was always there. Now with HBO creating a show based off the game, as well as me being apart of the Pedro Pascal fandom, I think I will soon become more consistent in posting as new content gets released. I will say that at least half of what appeals to me for Joel is Troy Baker’s voice and while I love Pedro’s voice too, I know it won’t be the same. I still think Pedro will do the voice justice bc he can do a damn fine country accent as seen in the movie Prospect on Netflix. If you’re a fan of his and have Netflix, please go watch it!

Genre: Angst and Fluff

Summary: You and Joel reconcile and bond over Ellie and Sarah. 

Ship: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Joel waited for you to come home. He paced back and forth in the kitchen switching from holding the card and setting it down on the counter. He was eager to talk to you about this new revelation partly because he was nervous to have the other conversation with you. After a while of calming his nerves down, you still hadn’t come home. The sun had set an hour ago and Joel was ready to throw on his boots and go looking for you. 

Just as he laced them up, the front door opened. You walked in and immediately stopped because his body blocked you from walking in the house further. 

“Going somewhere?” You asked as you slid past him. He was a grown man and could do what he wanted, but the thought of him leaving to go do other things before the issue between you was resolved upset you. 

He reached back down to unlace his boots. “Not anymore. I was ‘bout to head out and find you.”

“Why?” You asked dryly.

“I’d been waiting on you to come home for a couple of hours. We gotta talk.”

“You’re right, we do. I was helping Wendy walk the kids home from the daycare; that’s what held me up. I’m here now, though.” You leaned against the back of the couch and crossed your arms. The stance you took reminded you of what Joel would do.

He walked into the kitchen and came back. “Kiddo made this for us.”

You took it in your hands. “When did she have time to make this?” He shrugged. Your fingers brushed across the drawing of the hat before finally opening it. “Oh my God.” She looked at you for a split second before looking back down at her signature. “Her name has been ‘Ellie’ the whole time.”

“I know.” He commented. 

“She never said anything. All of us have asked her.”

“Technically, she still hasn’t spoken her name, but I guess she wasn’t ready for that.”

“She wasn’t ready to let anybody in.” You said. He nodded in agreement.

“Until now.” He walked up to you and pointed to her name on the card. “She’s doing so good, this Ellie. I can only try to imagine the horrors that she’s seen out in the world before she came to Jackson, but whatever happened out there, it led her to us. I’m...It’s just nice to see her opening up to this place.”

You understood what he was trying to say. “Yeah, I’m proud of her too.” You walked past him and into the kitchen to hang the card on the refrigerator. Joel followed. This time, his arms were crossed.

“(Y/N), I meant it when I said I was sorry back there. I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

“If you didn’t mean it, you wouldn’t have said it.” You rebutted.

“I was upset with you because I expected you to react the same as me when Ellie climbed up that T-Rex, but I don’t want a carbon copy of myself. I love you and want to have a family with you because you are wise beyond your years, confident even if you don’t always think so, responsible even for things that aren’t your responsibility and most importantly, you’re level headedness. Where I have a tendency to lose my cool in certain situations, you are guided by this calm...patient sense of will that I envy.” He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, giving you the opportunity to say something. Seeing that you were still soaking in his words, he continued. “You’ll be a great mother. I saw it in the gentle way you juggled all those kids at the daycare. I saw it in the way you took care of Ellie the first day she came here. You’ll see though, if it’s meant for us to have a baby, how difficult it is to stop worrying. It didn’t stop when Sarah....even when I tried to push those feelings away. It doesn’t stop. I know she’s not her, but it’s hard for me to just stand by and watch her do something that could hurt her.”

“I wasn’t standing by, or at least that wasn’t my intention. I wanted to give her space. She’s so delicate, or maybe that’s my problem. I shouldn’t treat her like she’s some glass figurine. I just wanted her to grow comfortable with us by trusting her. Believe me, it wasn’t easy for me to do when there was nothing personally for me to go off of, but then I thought, she’s lived out there for God knows how long by herself. She’s not only seen things but has been able to survive things. It’s hard to see how clever someone is when they won’t let you in, but I knew she had to be to have made it this far. I get it though. I’ve never been a parent. I can only sympathize with your worries. I can not empathize with you until I’ve been where you have. I’m sorry too. I could have found a way to give her space without allowing her to be in such a dangerous spot. You must be disappointed in me.”

He moved up to you and placed his hands on your shoulder. “I’m not. Look at me. I’m not disappointed in you. She was both of our responsibilities earlier.” He brought you into a tight hug. “You’re right, she is smart. She felt comfortable enough to show a side of herself that no one else has seen. You know why? ‘Cause she felt safe around us. Despite the grief she put me through, it was nice to see her so happy.”

“I know it was, wasn’t it? I can’t believe she jumped though! I didn’t think she’d go that far.”

“At the end of the day, kids will be kids. It’s not an excuse to slack off on raising ‘em, but there's just a certain wild and carefree nature that every kid has. It’s instilled in their DNA or somethin’ and then it fades away as they get older, about the time their back starts to ache.” Joel chuckled as he explained. He kissed the top of your head before pulling away to get a good look at you. He made a face as if to ask if you were ok. You nodded. He took your hand and pulled you into the living room. You sat down next to him. “She reminds me of Sarah sometimes. Ellie’s about the same age as her. She ran me through the ringer, raising that one.” He chuckled at the memories. “I wouldn’t trade it in for the world, being her dad, but you shoulda seen the amount of grief she put me through. Especially being a single parent.” He wiped his hand across his face, letting it linger along the length of his neck. “One time, she snuck off to some skate park when I told her no. She was in this skateboarding phase. I bought her a customized skateboard for her birthday and she would practice using it up and down the driveway. She had barely learned that little flippy trick when she asked me to take her to the skate park. I told her no because it looked like it was for experienced skaters. I wanted her to practice more first. To say the least, she was mad at me. She told me she was staying after school for the science club, but she really went to the skate park with some friends. By the time I figured out where she was, I found her lying in the grass, holding her arm in pain. Turned out she had a hairline fracture in her...radius?” He pointed to the bone on his arm. You nodded that it was in fact called radius. “I grounded her for lying to me, but sometimes I wonder if I should have taken her to the park. I mean I’m no expert on skateboarding, but at least I could have been there to supervise; make sure she wasn’t on one of those tough looking ramps.”

“Did you ever take her skateboarding after she healed up?”

“After the cast came off, she switched interests to soccer. I installed a shelf on one of her walls to hang the skateboard on. Better that than being stuffed under her bed. Soccer was her life though. She made new friends from the team, won titles, learned tricks with the ball. Me and Tommy were regulars at her games. I was...am proud of her.”

You smiled as you envisioned his memories. “Did she give you grief with that as well?”

He nodded in an exaggerated way. “Oh yeah, but I’m sure I used to give her grief too.” You lifted your eyebrows with desire for him to elaborate. “I may or may not have argued with the coach and ref on a few occasions regarding plays.”

“You never dated any of the soccer moms?” You teased.

He scoffed. “Most of them were married and the ones who weren’t, I sent Tommy’s way instead. He wasn’t mad at it.” The two of you chuckled. “I did flirt with a few, married or not, so I could get my hands on some of their homemade baked goods.”

“I was under the assumption that soccer moms made food for everyone.”

“They did, but I still wanted a few more cupcakes for the ride home.” He admitted as you laughed. “Listen, I had a busy life. I didn’t have much time to hone my baking skills, so it was nice to be able to have homemade cakes and cookies for a change.

“Well, if you wanted cookies, that’s all you had to say! I can show you how to bake right now.”

“It’s late.” He reasoned.

“It’s never too late to feed your sweet tooth.” You rebutted as you pulled him back into the kitchen.

#TLOU #TLOU2 #TLOUII #the last of us #the last of us joel #the last of us fanfic #The Last of Us 2 #the last of us fanfiction #tlou ellie #tlou joel #tlou fanfiction #tlou oc #naughty dog #Joel Miller #joel x reader #joel miller fanfic #Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

[tipsydipsydo]

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Gender of the Reader: female

Word Count: 1.6k 

Rating: 16+

Genre: Fluff; Smut

AU: non-idol! AU; established relationship AU!

Warnings: soft (!) Dirty Talk; sweetest Taehyung alive; virgin! Reader; Petnames; both of them getting turned on by a sex-scene in a movie; talk about sexual fantasies; mentions of oral (female receiving); mentions of vaginal intercourse; slight talk about boundaries 

Summary: It’s Sunday afternoon and Taehyung and you are watching a romantic historical movie for your quality cuddle time. This movie also includes a sensual & erotic scene which has some kind of effect on both of you. It leads to a talk where Taehyung tells you his dreams and fantasies, what he wants to do with you, whenever you feel ready for this step...

A/N: I think all of you already know that it can take me months until I finish somebody’s birthday present... here you go, my lovely @hantaev​! It turned a little different out than I thought it would but I hope that you like it!! Love you 💕 Status: unedited

Movie Source:

A little Chaos - Trailer 

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This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

It is a lazy Sunday afternoon, where Taehyung and you decided to watch a movie and cuddle under the mountains of pillows and blankets you hoard in your room, preferably on your bed. Your boyfriend knows that you have a weak spot for everything that takes place in a historical era and includes a more or less dramatic and cheesy lovestory. He doesn’t mind, he loves to see your beautiful face lighten up when he mentions that he found a new movie of Netflix which might raise your interest and you get all exited about it, to watch it here and now.  

For today you both choose the movie “A little chaos” for your weekly couple cuddle time and you enjoy it a lot. The love story, the historical background, the beautiful ball gowns and all of that in the warm arms of Taehyung. It’s simply a perfect afternoon and you couldn’t be happier in this moment. 

The sweet and innocent kisses and touches you shared with each other beforehand, pauses in the moment where the two main protagonists, André and Sabine, gets closer to each other... very close, uhm, up to the point where they begin to undress their lover. Your breath quicken when you feel how Taehyung’s arms pull you tighter against his broad chest. You’re so close to his heart now, you can listen to the rapid beats, faster than usually and you can sense that he got a little nervous by the scenery on the screen as well. His hands still rest well-mannered and behaved on your covered stomach, even though you can almost feel his hesistance to tell you something. 

You get pulled out of your stream of thoughts when soft moans finds their way out of the television speakers and fills the silent room with arousing noises. You gulp harshly and without noticing it by yourself, you rub your thighs together to ease the almost painful ache between your legs. This sweet, nowadays pretty simple lovemaking scene is doing something to your untouched body. You’re still a virgin and didn’t even touched yourself ‘properly enough’ to call it masturbation. You don’t know why it happens to be like that... it just happens? It’s not like you didn’t want to touch yourself because of other reasons, you simply never ‘desired’ to do it. Maybe just until now... now you feel an urge you’ve never felt before and you don’t know to handle it.

Taehyung knows all of that and actually encourage you to take your time until you are ready, he doesn’t want to push you in any way. Actually, he always tell you that you make the rules about your body, your sexuality and your individual experiences and make sure that you don’t feel insecure or pressed by society why you don’t have certain experiences yet, especially according to your age. That’s the reason he makes you feel so comfortable and safe, he always makes sure that you���re fine with every step you both make together in your relationship, your shared adventure. He always asks for your consent, even when it’s just a simple kiss. You love that about him, how gentle and attentive he is, sensing discomfort before you realize you weren’t 100% sure about his suggested step. Endless patience, never getting mad at you when you need more time for the next step than most other peoples. God, you love him so, so much! 

Taehyung reaches out for the Remote Control of the TV to lower the volume a little bit. The rest of the movie and what’s happening after the lovemaking scene blurries into each other, your thoughts can’t focus on the movie anymore, so it doesn’t bothers you.

“Baby... I hope it’s not intruding your personal space if I tell you... if I tell you that I’d cherish your body, when the time has come that you’d be ready for that step... just like André did to Sabine’s. Are you... are you comfortable if I tell you some of my fantasies I have... how I plan to make your first time beautiful and comfortable for you?”, Taehyung rasps mit your ear. His voice dropped significantly a few octaves, giving you the hint that he got the same feeling by watching this erotic and sensual scene just like you. 

A small hum leaves you throat, followed by a soft spoken “Yes”. You bite your lower lip, you’re terribly curious and exited to hear what he has planned for that special moment. 

With your verbal consent, Taehyung continues: “I thought often about how I could make this moment as enjoyable as possible for you... I dreamed about how I’d scatter countless kisses all over your gorgeous body, whispering praises into your ear, telling you how flawless and stunning you look... like my personal incarnate goddess. I know, I’ve never seen you naked before but I can guess that your body will be as beautiful as your wonderful soul. I want to explore you with all my senses. I want to kiss you... I want to taste you. I would love to feel your soft skin underneath my lips and my tongue, pleasing your sensitive spots with kisses, licks and sucks... To make your nipples oversensitive with my mouth before I leave a trail of kisses down your soft belly and go down on you... I hope you don’t mind if I tell you how often I thought about to eat you out, to settle between your soft thighs and please you with my tongue.” 

He pauses for a moment, waiting for your consent to carry on with his monologue. You nod slightly, a quiet “Please tell me more...” leaves your lips. 

“... I want to feel your body. Against my body and underneath my fingertips, admiring your beauty and pleasing you with my digits. I want to see your face twisting in pleasure... I want to treat you so good until you fall apart, so I can catch you when you come down from your high. I want to smell your body. You always smell so good and want to bury my nose in the crook of your neck, into your hair and moan into your ear when we connected our bodies, when I am inside of you... feeling you so snug and tightly wrapped around my length. I hope the fantasies of my daydreams meet your own expectations...”

Taehyung sighs deeply after he drew this images on both of your mind. You think, that his voice just dropped even lower while talking and he can’t deny it, it’s drenched in arousal. But there is no longing, no pressure, no intrusive thought to push you indirectly through this talk to let it finally happen. He is just talking about his fantasies but it’s ‘timeless’, he don’t care if you want to take the next step today or next week or in six months. You realize, you both took a new step, at least somehow. You’re talking about your sexual fantasies but without any expectations that it has to happen anytime soon. 

“...Taehyung?”, you ask with a slightly trembling voice, gnawing on your lower lip. Yes, his spoken words did definitely something to you. Something that you didn’t felt until now and it urges you to take care of. Your body feels so, so hot and the feeling in the pit of your stomach drives you almost insane. Well, you may never have experienced it by yourself yet but you can guess that it’s sexual desire. Also, you know that Taehyung would never take advantage of your inexperience, that’s the reason why you feel so safe in his arms even when your body reactions confuses you a lot. 

“Yes, Honey?”

“...would you... would you mind if we take a new step today... now?”, you ask softly, a little nevousness makes your voice slightly tremble. 

“What kind of new step, Baby?”, Taehyung asks you gently and turn you around, so you can face him. You smile shyly, wetting you’re lips more often as usual and make them look so terribly kissable. 

“Maybe... maybe exploring each other’s body? Only if you want to of course! Maybe undressing each other and feeling the soft skin of the other one underneath our palms... Kissing other body parts than just the lips... making each other feel really good. I- uhm.. right now my body feels like it’s burning inside out and I think only you can take care of it properly... and maybe teach me how I can take care of it in the future as well...”, you mumble, almost wispering it into his ear. 

“...that sounds amazing... are you sure you want this? It wasn’t my intention to cause this to happen when I told you that... you don’t owe me anything, Baby. You know that right?”, he wispers in his hoarse voice back, cupping your face in his hands and looking into your eyes with pure honesty. 

“I know that, Taehyung. I know that you wouldn’t take any advantage of me. I am very thankful for that, really. But I am more than sure that I am ready to go a step further... together with you and your help.” 

“Oh Baby... anything for you. Tell me what you want me to do for you.”

#kpop bts #kpop kim taehyung #bts kim taehyung #bangtanhq #purplearmynet #bts smut #thehouseofbangtan #bts x virgin! reader #taehyung smut #bts scenarios #bts fanfics #taehyung x virgin reader #bts x y/n #taehyung x reader #bts x reader #bts sex talk #bts fluff #bts imagines #taehyung fanfic #by tipsy

[mskatesharma]

Anthony is lounging on the sofa, stretched out and content after a long day. He and Kate have no plans that evening, and he is looking forward to vegging out with some Netflix. He’s also hoping that he can convince her to order in, knows that they’ve both had long days at work, and the last thing Anthony wants to do is inspect the contents of the fridge and have to come up with a meal.

He feels lips press to his forehead, and Anthony closes his eyes as he breathes in his favourite scent of soap and lillies. He will never admit it to anyone other than Kate, but he adores forehead kisses, and the way they make you feel loved and adored all at once. Her lips linger, and Anthony revels in the warmth that spreads through him.

Kate removes her lips and Anthony opens his eyes, the curve of his mouth immediate as his vision is filled with Kate’s face, upside down as she looks at something on the other end of the sofa. Not that Anthony minds of course as he leans his head back a little further; from this vantage point and Kate’s current position bending over him, he has a fantastic view down the front of her loose T-shirt.

He’s just about to make a comment that’s sure to earn him a blush when Kate speaks first. “Are you wearing my socks?”

Anthony’s eyes immediately swivel down to his feet which are currently adorned with a pair of socks. Socks which he may or may not have taken from Kate’s drawer. “I don’t believe so, no.”

“Anthony.”

“Katherine.”

“Ant.”

“Kat.”

“Tony.”

“Katie.”

“Anton.”

“Kathy.”

“Anthony!” Her face has steadily got closer to his; her nose is practically touching his forehead. “Those are my socks!”

“Hmm, I must ask for proof Ms Sharma.” Before he’s even finished speaking, Kate makes a move towards his feet. Just as she rounds the corner of the armrest, Anthony snags an arm around her waist and pulls her on top of him. Her squeals are music to his ears, and he leans his head up to bury his nose in her hair.

“Anthony!”

“This is much better.”

“Ugh, let me go!” She wriggles against him, but Anthony just holds tighter. “And take my socks off! Why are you even wearing them?”

“Stop wriggling. And I think you’ll find these are my socks. They were gifted to me.” Kate manages to wrestle an arm free, and slides it under her back and pinches Anthony’s stomach. “Ow.” He holds her tighter still, trapping her arm in an awkward position.

“UGGHH.” Anthony revels in the struggle. “And you let me have them because you didn’t like them!” Anthony supposes that Kate is correct; he had received the socks at Christmas in the Bridgerton family Secret Santa, no doubt by a sibling determined to piss him off.

It’s not that they’re novelty socks, in fact, Anthony appreciates a good novelty sock. It’s just that this particular pair is covered in corgis, and while Anthony used to have no particular thoughts regarding corgis, that changed when Kate had been introduced to his life; Kate and her dog Newton.

His siblings had taken to exclusively referring to Anthony as corgi dad, or Newton’s Papa. It had started before he and Kate had even began dating, when Newton had run off during a walk, and it had ended with Anthony somehow dumped in the Serpentine. Anthony had been positive that the dog had done it on purpose. He can still picture Kate trying her hardest not to laugh at the picture he’s sure he made, and failing miserably, while trying to tell him that Newton was just effusive about life. He hadn’t been convinced, especially when a soggy Newton had trotted over and shaken out his fur right in front of him.

“I think they happen to look rather fetching, wouldn’t you agree?” He wiggles his toes for effect.

“Hmm no, I wouldn’t. Take. Them. Off.”

“Don’t think I will.”

“Anthony, your fat feet are going to stretch them out!” He loosens his grip just enough to flip them over, Kate’s face smooshed against the pillow his head has just been resting on. He smooths her hair out of the way and lays a kiss on the back of her neck. Kate awkwardly swats at him in response. “Anthony!”

“Fat feet? I think you know that my feet are in proportion to the rest of my body, thank you.”

Her breaths are heavy from the slight exertion, and her voice muffled by the cushion. “Well they’re still going to stretch the socks. Your toe is going to poke a hole through them! Take them off.” She tries to arch her back in an effort to dislodge him, but Anthony simply drops his hips a little more. He leans down to her ear.

“Stop struggling Kate.”

“Get off me then.”

“Only when you admit these are my socks.”

“You don’t even like them!”

“I think seeing them on your cute feet has made me jealous, and I realised what I’ve been missing out on.” He hears her scoff. “Maybe I should have been leaning into this whole corgi dad thing the whole time?”

“So should I get you a cap, to go along with the shirt?”

“Absolutely! I would like to have a matching set.” Kate stops struggling at his words. “I think it’s beyond time I accept Newton’s place in my life.”

“What are you up to?”

“I’m not up to anything.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“So untrusting Ms Sharma. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Where you’re concerned, one can’t be too suspicious.” He leans down to kiss her neck again, and is momentarily distracted by lillies. Kate must sense this.

With a move that Anthony will put down to the regular pilates, Kate somehow manages to turn herself over while also ensuring Anthony falls off the sofa. She peers down at him, an undignified heap on the floor, victoriously.

There’s a low growl in his throat at the look on her face. How is he supposed to resist the provocation that is her expression; as though she has utterly bested him and is reveling in her triumph.

“The absolute most I am willing to say is that I may have taken these socks from your designated drawer.”

“So you do admit you pilfered them then?!”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You just said you took them from my drawer.”

“I didn’t say they were your socks though.”

“Anthony!”

“I would be willing to give them back, but I want something in exchange.”

“You are in no position to be asking for things. You stole my socks.”

“You know they’re mine-”

“And you let me have them.”

“HOWEVER, I would be willing to cede possession to you for one thing.”

Her eyes narrow. “Ugh, what would that be?”

“Move in with me.”

“Anthony-” He knows what’s coming, it’s been a sore in their relationship for a few weeks now. He understands her concerns; how she doesn’t want to move too fast because they haven’t even been dating for a year yet, how she’s worried that people at work will talk and say she only gets the cases she does because she’s sleeping with the boss’s best friend.

He also knows that deep down, she’s worried that at some point, Anthony will turn around and tell her it’s all been a mistake. And while Anthony would love to show her the contents of the small jewellery box he has hidden in a hollowed out tax manual, he figures getting her to move in with him would be the best place to start. He takes her hand in his.

“Look I know what you’re going to say, but, would it be really that bad?” Her expression softens, and Anthony loves how his heart clenches. “I just...I just really miss you when you’re not here. I know we spend most nights together anyway, I just wish, it was more than that. I want all your stuff mixed in with mine. I want it to be every night, and I hate it when I go to sleep or wake up those times you’re back at your flat, instead of in my bed with me. I’m even willing to get Newton that ridiculous dog bed that Colin found. I want to share my life with you, I mean everything, and I just, I want to be near you all the time.”

He can see the tears welling in her eyes, and feels his own prick in response. “What I was going to say before you so wonderfully interrupted, was my tenancy is up in two months, and I don’t think I want to renew it. Because you see, my boyfriend has been bugging me to just move in with him, and my excuses have been half-hearted at best. I’ve been silly, because really, if I think about it properly for more than a second, then I want all those things too.”

He notices her eyes overflow, and then he’s off the floor and laying Kate back on the sofa, covering her body with his as he kisses away the tears.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too, so much.” He’s about to lean down and kiss her like he’s been wanting to since he stole a look down her top, but she stops him with a finger to his lips.

“We will resume our conversation regarding the stolen property currently residing on your feet after our interlude here. I hope you didn’t think sweet words and the relationship milestone would cause me to forget?” Her eyebrow is raised and a thrill shoots up Anthony’s spine.

His smirk is automatic, and from the way she mirrors his expression, he knows she’s enjoying this too. “Of course not. I look forward to your desired retribution."

#kathony #anthony x kate #kate x anthony #anthony bridgerton #kate sharma #kate sheffield #kanthony #bridgerton fanfiction #kathony fic #my fic #loool i finished this ficlet from a few weeks ago because i read over it and somehow managed to reign my arse in #anyway im sorry if this is terrible #i had to post it before i did something stupid like keep on writing

[lovestrucked-again]

Delirium II | Mafia

Summary: After being kidnapped and claimed by the notorious mafia leader, he offers you a 7 day period where you’ll be given the option after of staying or leaving. Until then, you’re stuck, whether you like it or not.

Pairing: Mafia leader X female reader Word count: 2.9k

Genre & Warning: SMUT, fingering, Explicit content, kidnapping, mafia gang, possessive, toxic, yandere like personality, punishment, use of sex toys, multiple orgasms, rough, orgasm denial, begging, orgasm control, praise, teasing, 

Please don’t read this if you’re uncomfortable. A very obvious statement but this series is purely fictional, it is unacceptable in real life and should not be taken lightly.

Part 1 | Part 3

Day 2

When you wake up, the sticky feeling from between your thighs is gone. Your body is still bare but the sheet wrapped around you is enough to keep you warm. With the morning light shining through the windows, your finally able to look around the room. You sit up against the headboard, noticing the pain in your thighs as you drag them up. The room is simply decorated. The walls a dull shade of white with a neat desk in the corner. A few plants littering around the room, giving it colour.

The sound of the door opening brings your attention over to the person entering, your hands quickly bringing the sheets to cover your top half. Taeyong walks in, dressed in a white shirt and shorts, clearly having already showered.

“I made you breakfast. I know it’s just a bowl of cereal, but it’s the only thing I won’t burn.” He tells you, taking a seat beside you on the bed. His piercing eyes from the night before now soft and rounded.

“Thanks.” You mumble, bringing your arms out of the sheet to grab the bowl from him gratefully.

Taeyong smiles at you, the silence seeming strangely comfortable. You couldn't tell what this man was thinking. When you first met him, he looked at you like you were something delicate, the way he carefully approached you, pushed your hair behind your ears. Then last night happened, not that you didn’t enjoy the sex, but it was ….terrifying. You didn't realise his personality could change so drastically in just the little time you’d known him.

“Hey baby, I hope you don't mind wearing one of my shirts for now. I got one of the guys to bring your clothes from your place for you.”

“My clothes?” You question, confused.

“Yeah.”

“Why are you bringing them here?”

“Because your moving in with me.” He states, bringing one of your hands to his lap.

“Wh-what?!” You stutter out.

“It’ll be fun.”

“Wait no, I can’t.” You shake your head violently, “I won’t.”

“Baby I wasn't really giving you a choice on that.” He warns, his voice suddenly low.

“Look, I don't know if you’re okay or if you need some help but I’m not moving in with you, I don't even know you!” You tell him, your voice rising with your words, not finding his jokes amusing, “I don’t even know your name for fucks sake.”

“Baby don't swear; I don't like it.” He murmurs, his hand stroking circular motions on the back of your palm soothingly, “And my name’s Taeyong.”

“I won’t tell anyone about last night,” You whisper desperately, “just let me go.”

Taeyong lets the thought swim around in his head for a bit. Truth be told, he was going to have you no matter what, but perhaps you’d give him a little more liking if he lied.

“How about you move in with me for just a week, if you really hate me then you can leave.” He proposes.

“I’ll leave when I want,” you tell him, getting ready to pull off the bed sheets still covering your naked body, ready to leave exposed if you have to. Taeyong is quick to stop you, only needing to grip onto your wrist harshly to prevent you from moving.

“Baby, I gave you an offer, you can take it or decline it.” He cautions, “I didn't say you could bargain with me.”

His dark eyes are drilled into yours. And you can’t help but notice, the depth of the ink, sorrow, perhaps pain, that was hiding behind them. You couldn't see the whites of his eyes anymore, nor the vessels that flowed through them. He looked, frightening.

“I-I’ll take the offer.” You stutter out. His gaze makes you gulp, suddenly losing the attitude you originally had. You decide to just follow through with his words for now, you could always leave when he wasn’t around.

“Great well, let’s take you around the house for now.” He chimes, eyes instantly switching back as he happily grabs your untouched bowl, putting it on the bedside table. He walks over to his cupboard, pulling out a plain black t-shirt and brings it over to you, helping you slip it on.

“Lift your arms up baby.”

“I can do it myself,” You tell him, feeling embarrassed to let the sheets fall and your body expose itself to his eyes.

“Let me.” He pleads, his right hand taking yours and locking his fingers with yours. You let out a sigh, and you nod, wanting to hide under the sheets in a sheepish mess. Surprisingly he doesn't say anything as your breasts reveal themselves out of the sheets. His eyes are still trained on you, helping you slip the fabric over your head.

“Thanks,” You whisper, feeling flushed under his eyes. He laughs lightly, noticing the red in your face. He cups your cheeks and gently squeezes your face before pecking your lips.

“Wow don’t you just look adorable.” He exclaims, drawing out the last syllable. For some reason all his words and gestures only confuse you, strangely feeling like you were already use to his presence, his touch.

The fabric of his shirt reaches below your thigh, better than nothing. He peels back the bed sheet, giving you a hand to help you off the bed. You stumble a little, the sudden weight on your weaker legs unable to withstand the pain. Taeyong snakes an arm around your waist to support you just as you trip, already prepared to catch you.

The memories of the earlier event vanish as soon as you step outside his room. Who would’ve known the door would lead to such a large open, spacious area with a breath-taking view of your city. A huge flat-screen television dominated one wall, with a soft leather couch directly in line. However, it was the transparency of the windows that surprised you.

Your feet began walking to the glass, Taeyong following beside you. You must’ve been on the top floor of whatever building you were in. The faint outlines of people on the road, the entire view of the city in your sight.

“Wow.” You breathed out.

“Still don't want to live with me?” He whispers, moving to stand behind you so he’s able to envelop you around your waist. His head rests against your shoulder as you both stare out at the city, the sunlight shining on your skin.

“Who are you?” You mumble out-loud. You had no idea what was going on anymore. Who was this guy? How could he afford this place? What had happened in such a short time was over-whelming. The butterflies return to you as his hands lock around your stomach.

“Someone whose absolutely in love with you.” He murmurs, pressing a soft kiss on your neck.

You pull away quickly, the words swimming through your mind at a rapid pace. Taeyong takes a step back, letting you have some space to yourself as he walks over to his couch.

“What do you normally watch at home?” He asks, reaching for the remote and changing it to a netflix channel. You’re still lost in your thoughts when he calls again, “Baby?”

“I-I don't mind.”

“Okay, I’ll choose something then,” he replies, deciding between the first or second movie of Despicable Me.

You break your gaze from the city and turn around to look at him, “I didn't take you for a kid’s movie type.”

“It’s a cute movie.” He shrugs, patting the empty side of the couch beside him.

You sit down beside him, leaving a clear distinct line between the two of you to avoid being right next to him. You’re aware of the minimal clothing you’re wearing (only one of his shirts) so you keep your legs crossed on the couch, pulling the fabric down to cover as much as possible.

As the movie plays you can finally feel like you’re relaxing, immersed in the childish scenes playing out as both of you laugh. It feels comfortable.

You didn't have many friends, only receiving a few texts and calls from them once in a while to talk about their own love life. You were mainly focused on your education, barely taking any social time to explore. The one night you did, bought you here. You had gone for a blind date set up by your college friend and you agreed reluctantly. The guy was a jerk, leaving you alone in the middle of a dark street as he receives a call from his ex, clearly not over her.

That was just a few minutes before you had run into Jaehyun killing a man. And seconds later, you were bought here. To Taeyong.

Around 30minutes in your legs start cramping suddenly, most likely from sitting cross legged the whole time. Taeyong notices you shift in your seat, your hands massaging your lower calves.

“Put your legs up, you need to stretch them.” He tells you, patting his legs for you to swing them over.

You hesitate for a minute, but his expression’s sincere, “Thanks.”

You place your legs on his lap, finally stretching them out and Taeyong starts massaging your calf for you. “Is it this leg?" He asks, bringing your left leg closer to him.

“Yeah.” Taeyong wraps an arm around your legs, keeping you there as he adjusts himself, sitting comfortably. Your hands hold onto the hem of your current shirt, making sure it doesn't move.

As the movie’s almost finishing, your cramps have subsided. You realise Taeyong had continued to massage your leg, using less pressure throughout the movie. As you’re staring at his soft features, still mesmerised by the little minions on the TV, your brought back into reality.

“Taeyong?”

“Yes baby?” He replies, eyes still drawn to the movie.

“Why am I here?”

He reaches for the TV remote, pausing the movie, his focus now on you. “What do you mean?” He asks.

“Why didn’t you let me go?”

“Because I like you.”  

“You don't know me.” You sigh, exasperated at his response.

“I don't know you? Are you sure about that baby?” He asks, amused at your question.

“I’ve been here for what? Maybe less than a day? Of course you don't know me!” You tell him, stating the obvious.

“Baby I do know you though,” He says, smiling smugly, “I know how to make you scream, I know how to make you beg for a fucking, I know -.”

“Fuck off Taeyong.” You growl, his arrogant attitude annoying you again.  

“What did I say about swearing.” He tsks, pulling your body closer to him by tugging on your legs. Your shirt rides up as he drags you, nearly revealing your ass.

“Don't touch me.” You warn, snarling back at him, as you move back to your side of the couch, bringing your legs back to your body.

“That’s not very nice.”

“What’s with you and your crappy attitude Taeyong? One minute your soft and kind, the next you’re like some arrogant lit-.”

“Baby I suggest you reconsider that sentence.” He grins, relaxed and confident as he moves closer, his hands gripping onto your exposed thigh.

“Arrogant little bastard.” You finish.

Taeyong lets out a low chuckle, his eyes flipping a visible switch as he stands up and picks you up easily, throwing you over his shoulder. You let out a squeal in surprise, slapping him on the back as you shriek.

He kicks open his bedroom door, throwing you onto the bed as you land with a soft thud. Before your able to grasp the situation, he opens the drawer from the bedside table slipping the small gold key from around his neck off, he unlocks the case of a square box. The lid flips open and he brings something out of the case. Your neck is craned in the direction, watching his fast movements.

"What are you doing?" You ask, sitting up immediately when you see the item. Taeyong reveals a large, egg-shaped object with a faint string (unnoticeable to you) coming out of it. “Punishing you.”

“What is that?” You gasp, seeing the shape of it.

Your unable to see it properly as he turns around, pulling you by your ankles as you fall back against the mattress. He grabs your thighs tightly, pushing them apart. "You're dripping, baby. I can see your juices running out of you already.”

“What? No I’m not.” You argue, feeling insulted at his statement.

The shirt now no longer covering your thighs lets you feel the air of the ceiling fan spinning above you. Taeyong’s eyes staring right at your exposed pussy. You see him lean forward, bringing the object in his hand closer to your thighs.

You tense and brace yourself, expecting him to shove it in, but the hard shove doesn't come. Instead, he presses gently, rolling the probe back and forth in tiny motions. His other hand slips between your legs as his fingers stroke your pussy and you let out a loud moan.

Eventually, he slips it inside of you, pushing it completely in and leaving only a thin string hanging. The shock paralyses you for a second, as you feel yourself engulfing it whole. Then you shriek and burst into tears as he turns a wheel on a small remote. The vibrator comes to life, buzzing inside you.

“Oh my god Taeyong!” You scream, your hands travelling everywhere, bundling in the sheets and clawing at your own thighs. You squeeze your thighs shut involuntarily and it only causes the vibrations to intensify, bringing a soft moan from your mouth. Taeyong stands up from the bed, pulling up his reading chair next to the bed. He sits down, adjusting the chair for the best view, and watches you write against the bedsheets.

“Ta-take it out.” You groan. He leans back in the chair, smiling, watching you struggle. You thrust your hips in the air, trying to dislodge the buzzing toy; but from his point of view, it looks like you’re fucking an invisible partner. You writhe and twist, as he turns up the speed and power of the vibrator.

“Ju-just fuck me,” You stutter out in a moaning mess, desperate for him.

“What was that baby?” He asks, genuinely surprised at your sudden confession. He turns the dial down for you to repeat yourself, but not completely off.

“Ta-take it out and just fuck me.” “Not right now baby.” He smiles and laughs, leaning back again as he switches it back to high.

The vibrations inside you continue relentlessly as your body grows weak with exhaustion. You clench involuntarily around the hard, smooth object as the vibrations become tingles in your belly.

Taeyong watches. Little by little, the tingle becomes stronger. The thing inside you thrums, fanning the desire into a sense of raging, desperate need. You sigh and moan as your hips rock up and down.

"Good girl. Take it." Taeyong murmurs, moving beside you now to let his one finger part your folds. You let out a gasp as he finds your clit. "This feels good, doesn't it?"

“Y-yes.”

He moves his finger in circle motions against you as the constant buzz chips away inside of you. Soon your hips were rocking again, your head thrown back in a whining mess as he presses harder against your clit. You whimper wordlessly and grind your hips against his finger. "Please...please..." The need consumes you. Your body left on fire as all you can think of is nothing but the vibration inside. You clench and thrust your hips upward.

Taeyong grabs the cord, pulling the vibrator out of you with a single rough tug. The tingle abruptly stops and replaces you with emptiness, tinged with desperation. You felt wetness roll down your thigh, and you pushed your hips back, frantic, longing to feel something inside again but finding only empty air.

He replaces it with his fingers, pushing them roughly inside of you at a savage pace. You let out a loud sob. “You love this, don't you?” He chuckles, continuing his thrusts. "You still need more, don't you, little slut? You can't get enough." He picks up the egg-shaped vibrator again. "Let's see if this does the trick." Without preamble, he shoves it roughly inside your lips, watching it disappear. You gasp and shake as he turns it on to its maximum setting for the first time, letting it resume the hard, insistent vibrations.

Your orgasm comes, ripping through your body like molten fire, and as you clench and tighten, pain lashes through you, too.

When it’s s over, you crash back to earth in a shock. Taeyong turns off the vibrator, pulling it from you with a slurping sound. You make a weak mewling noise as it finally leaves your weakened body. He sits on the side of the bed and pulls you onto his lap; your body curling up around him in instinct as he strokes your hair.

“You did well baby. So well.” he murmurs. Finally, some small amount of strength flows back into you. You open your eyes and look up at him, able to speak at last. "What was that for?" He brushes a stray hair away from your eyes, and looks down at you. "Because you swore again." He smiles.

#nct smut #nct #nct imagines #nct mafia #nct taeyong #nct reactions #nct scenarios #nct fanfics #nct127 #lee taeyong #nct gang #taeyong #taeyong imagine #nct au #nct boyfriend #nct yandere #kpop #kpop mafia #kpop scenarios #superm #superm taeyong #taeyong x reader

[fics-of-culture]

Angelic Affections

Requested by anonymous

Gabriel x GN Reader

Summary: When Gabriel’s favorite human gets in an accident, Gabriel is forced to deal with his fear of loosing them as well as his own shortcomings. Slight angst with fluff ending.

Words: 2,876

You hummed softly to yourself as you stood in your room packing up your go bag. Your brother Sammy had stormed into the kitchen abruptly interrupting yours and Dean’s breakfast not 20 minutes ago with a new case. 

“So get this,” Sam said as he stormed in, laptop in hand. “A string of mysterious deaths all revolving around an old, seemingly abandoned house in Nevada.” You groan in frustration, pushing away your half eaten cereal. How hard was it to get a nice morning with your brothers without having to worry about some ghost or ghoul interrupting it? 

“Haunted?” Dean asked, only half paying attention. He took a sip of his coffee, looking awfully comfortable in his robe with his feet propped up on the table the two of you were seated at.

“Seems like it.” Sam replied, scrolling through an article on his laptop. 

“You know the drill,” Dean slowly dragged his legs off of the kitchen table as he stood. “Wheels up in thirty.” 

“You’ve been watching too many procedural cop shows, Dean.” You chime in as you stand up as well, turning to head to your room. Sam chuckled as Dean just scoffed indignantly at you.

“You know I hate that shit.” He muttered to himself. You just send your older brother a shit eating smile before heading out of the kitchen and into your bedroom. 

You turn towards your dresser to pull out a pair of socks when your eye catches on the picture frame resting on top. It’s a polaroid of you and Gabe dressed in terrible matching Christmas sweaters grinning like a couple of dorks in front of a fireplace. You smiled at the memory. Gabe had gotten you a polaroid camera for Christmas last year after you complained that the angels had never had their photos taken before. 

“I don’t see why that is an issue.” Cas had said, as oblivious as ever. The three of you were sitting on a couch in the DeanCave. You sat in between the two angels, body angled to face the befuddled angel.

“Well what if there’s a moment in your life that you never want to forget? It’s like being able to preserve the happiest times in your life.” Cas cocked his head at you as Gabe listened intently. You would’ve expected him to tease you for being so passionate about this, but he seems content just to watch the conversation unfold.

“An angel’s memory does not degrade like human’s do. We have no need for such reminders.” You just groan in frustration as Gabe chuckles beside you.

“That’s not the point, Cas.” Castiel just kept looking at you with that confused expression. You let out a sigh before shaking your head, defeated by Cas’s lack of understanding.

“Good luck with that one, honey. I think Cassy here is a lost cause.” The archangel places his hand on your knee as Cas casts a small glare towards him.

It wasn’t long after that incident that you opened one of your presents during Christmas to find the vintage camera. Upon opening it, Gabriel immediately insisted that the two of you take a photo. You put in the film as Gabe knelt beside you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you against him.

“Come on! Let’s take the picture already!” Gabriel exclaimed impatiently. He had been hyperactive all morning (You suspected that he had been sneaking Christmas cookies when you weren’t watching) and it was becoming difficult to keep up with him.

“Give me a second! I need to set it up first.” Gabriel simply tugged the camera out of your hands. Truly the angel didn’t have a patient bone in his celestial body. He flicked the camera on and you only had a brief moment to smile at it before the picture was taken. The flash had caught you both by surprise and had you blinking the spots out of your eyes for the next few minutes. But when the picture came out, you couldn’t deny that it was perfect. You had taken several photos of your boys that day, but only that photo had gotten its own frame and a special place upon your dresser. 

Suddenly you feel a presence behind you. A warm breath brushes against the back of your neck and the hairs on your arms stand up. Despite knowing that you should be attacking the intruder, a part of you felt calmed by the presence behind you. So instead you just waited to see what would happen. 

“Whatya lookin’ at there, sugar?” You let out a sigh of relief as you recognized Gabe’s voice whispering in your ear. You can’t help but feel a blush stain your cheeks as you noticed just how close he was standing. You turn around and shove him away from you in retaliation for sneaking up on you. You avoid his eyes as he shoots you a playfully offended look. 

“I was looking at that dorky expression on your face.” You tell him as you gesture to the photo. You continue your task of packing as Gabe picks up the picture frame to take a better look.

“Well excuse me princess, but I see two dorky faces in this picture.” You just rolled your eyes as he shakes the photo in your direction. Focusing back at the task at hand, you bend over your bed to place your socks in your pack. With your back turned to the trickster angel, you miss the way his eyes slide down your form before quickly turning away to place the photo back down. 

“I still don’t see why you wanted that picture taken so badly. I’m pretty sure my hair wasn’t even combed!” You turned to look at your angel. His whiskey colored eyes were crinkled in amusement.

“Does an angel need a reason to want to take a picture with his favorite human?” You playfully rolled your eyes as he said this. It wasn’t a new occurrence, him referring to you as his favorite human. He seemed to work it into every conversation the two of you had, as though he felt the need to subtly remind you how much you meant to him. The two of you hadn’t always been this close. In fact, when the two of you first met, you regarded him mainly with suspicion. This suspicion quickly turned into a deep seated hatred for a time after he forced you to live through your brother dying over and over again. It actually wasn’t until Gabriel gave his life that you started to think that your hatred may have been misplaced. Although you had barely known him, a part of you had mourned your tormenter turned savior. As you had falsely assumed that you would never see him again. Cut to 8 years later when Ketch delivered an incredibly alive Gabriel to you. You had spent the next few days taking care of the broken archangel. For some reason, you were the only one Gabriel would allow to get close to him. Although he refused to speak, you could feel a tension rising between the two of you. It all came to ahead when Asmodeus broke into the bunker and almost killed you. Gabriel miraculously got his mojo back and smited Asmodeus where he stood for even laying a finger on you. You and the newly healed trickster had been “joined at the hip” as Dean puts it ever since.

“Speaking of which, I’ve got my favorite human’s favorite show queued up on my laptop right now. What do you say we snuggle up with some popcorn and lay in bed all day.” You giggle as Gabe wiggles his eyebrows as he steps closer to you.

“Honestly that sounds amazing, but we have a hunt.” Gabe just groans in disappointment before dramatically plopping on your bed. “And after last time, Dean says you’re not allowed to come with us anymore.” You watched as Gabe made himself comfortable on your bed.

“Hey, that wasn’t my fault! You brother just doesn’t have a sense of humor.” You zipped up your pack and picked it up. You looked back at Gabe, noticing the candy bar that miraculously appeared in his hand.

“Just stay out of trouble and we can watch tv when I get back.” Your angel just let out an indignant huff as you placed a kiss on his forehead and headed towards the door. “And no eating in my bed!” You smile softly at the disappointed groan you hear behind you.

“Stay safe, sugar.” You hear him chime out before you walk out.

“I always am.”

-

Gabriel had spent the last week lounging around the bunker waiting for you to get back. Well, lounging and rigging up a few surprises for the boys. But despite the inevitable boredom that comes with staying in one place too long, Gabe couldn’t find it in himself to leave until he saw you. This hunt had come up at the most inopportune moment possible. As well having a good Netflix and chill (Gabe knows you hate it when he says that but he just can’t resist), the archangel had also planned to talk to you that night. Yes, the larger than life angel/trickster had finally worked up the courage to confess his feelings to you. Gabriel’s face scrunches up at the thought. Usually he’d be content to avoid any and all conversations involving feelings, but somehow you managed to wiggle your way under his skin and he needed you to know how much he cared for you. He couldn’t help but care for you after you nursed him back to health. You had seen him at his most vulnerable, and you didn’t leave him or try to take advantage of him. You just sat quietly with him. Taking care of his injuries and pulling out his stitches. It wasn’t until sometime after he was healed that he realized how much he loved you, and how super boned he was for falling for a Winchester. So he planned to confess over tv and snacks, but of course the life of a hunter is never that straightforward. So naturally you were whisked away on a case, leaving Gabe behind to wait impatiently for you to get back. The trickster had actually been setting up a fun little surprise in the moose’s shower when he heard the bunker door slam open.

“Well it’s about time.” Gabriel stated as he appeared before the Winchesters. It wasn’t until that sentence left his lips that he properly surveyed the scene before him. You were being held in Dean’s arms as the two brothers pushed by him without saying a word. It wasn’t the sight of you being carried that jarred him into silence. Hell, it wasn’t even the copious amount of blood covering you and the older Winchester that shocked him. (He had seen you covered in blood on multiple occasions.) It was the way your skin looked pale and cold, as though you were already dead. Somewhere in his mind, it registered that the brothers were headed to the infirmary, but before he could even think to follow, Castiel appeared before him. “What happened?” Cas could faintly hear Gabe ask. At this moment, the archangel Gabriel looked less like a divine being and more like a broken man. Cas had trouble looking into his eyes at that moment. The desperation behind them forcing the guilt to creep slowly back into Castiel’s mind.

“We thought it was just a simple haunting. It turns out a group of demons were using the site to lure hunters. The Winchesters fell right into their trap.” If Gabriel comprehended his brother’s words, he did not show it. For the first time in the hyperactive angel’s life, he just stood there. He did not move, he did not breathe. If a stranger were to look at him, they might mistake him for a statue. Cas continued on. “I managed to heal her in time, but I believe she will need rest.” With that, Gabriel was suddenly moving again. Swiftly turning to head towards the infirmary. He needed to see you. To see for himself that you would be okay. But he was quickly halted by a hand being placed on his shoulder. “I… do not think you should see her like this.” This caused Gabe to snap. 

“And why’s that, Cas? Because you couldn’t protect her? Cause you couldn’t protect my… friend from a couple of rouge demons?” Gabriel was now standing toe to toe with Castiel, angelic energy flooding the room. “You failed her Cas. You don’t get to tell me what I should and should not do.” With that, Cas’s hand slid off Gabe’s shoulder and Gabe flew away towards the infirmary. 

-

Waking up in the infirmary was a… surprise to say the least. Your head ached and your throat was painfully dry. You tried to sit up and call for someone but when you opened your eyes you noticed that the room was empty. Which was an odd sight because usually your brothers would take turns watching over you whenever you got injured. You assumed that something must have happened… until you heard the voices outside. 

“No! You don’t get to storm in here blaming everyone else for your shit!” Dean was shouting at… someone? You couldn’t really tell who or what the conversation was about. It only took you a moment before your questions were answered. 

“Ha! my shit? You’re the one who almost let your sister get killed. Again.” Dean was arguing with Gabriel. Which in itself is not surprising, but it’s very rare that Gabriel truly shows anger during these fights. But you can tell by the way his voice is quivering that he is upset. 

“She’s a hunter,” Dean continues. “This is our job. So no, you do not get to blame me for this when really, you're mad at yourself for not being there to protect her.” The conversation goes quiet after that. You hear a sigh and footsteps walking away. Slowly, the door to the infirmary is pushed open. It’s safe to say that you’ve never seen Gabriel this sullen since he’d gotten his mojo back. His head hangs down to the floor as he quietly shuffles into the room. His eyes are sunken and laced with unshed tears. You’re not quite sure what to say. Luckily, you don’t need to because at that moment, Gabriel lifts his head and meets your gaze. 

“Y/n?” He speaks your name so softly that your heart almost breaks. “How long have you been awake for?” He rushes to sit by your side. 

“A couple of minutes.” You say quietly, your voice still hoarse from disuse. Gabe silently hands you a cup of water that was sitting on the side table. 

“Why didn’t you call anyone?” You took a sip from the cup before handing it back to him. 

“You guys seemed… busy.” Gabriel grimaced a bit as you said this. 

“You heard that?” Gabe sighs as you nod your head in confirmation. He rests his hand on your knee as the two of you sit in silence for a moment. You try to crack a joke to release some of the tension.

“It’s nice to know that you’d care if I died. Sorta assumed you’d be halfway to Vegas right now.” That statement draws a little chuckle out of your angel. 

“You know, I’ll smite you if you ever repeat this to anyone but… Dean was right.” Gabriel fixes his warm eyes on you as he speaks. “I am furious with myself for not being there. You’re my human. I should’ve been there to protect you.” It’s almost jarring to see Gabriel looking this vulnerable. You’re not quite sure what to say. So you don’t say anything. In a moment that catches the both of you off guard, you surge forward to wrap your arms around the broken looking angel. He lifts his arms after a moment to hold you back and you just rest against his chest for a while. Just allowing yourself to be held by your angel. You feel him press a kiss to your head and you sigh in contentment. Despite the soreness of your body, Gabriel’s presence feels like a relief. 

“I love you, you know.” You freeze as you feel him whisper the words into your hair. You draw your head up to look Gabe in the eyes once more. You can tell from the way he’s avoiding your gaze that he’s nervously waiting for your response. You lean in slowly and Gabriel sits frozen, waiting for your next move. You can’t even feel breath coming from him. Slowly, you place a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

“I love you too.” You whisper back once you pull away. The two of you don’t stay separated for long as the angel pulls you back for a more heated kiss. The two of you break apart after you realize that you desperately need air. Gabe chuckles as you gasp for breath. 

“Well I’ll tell you one thing, honey.” He says as he pulls you flush against him. “You’re never going anywhere without me ever again.”

#reader insert #spn #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural reader insert #gabriel imagine #gabriel x reader #spn gabriel #spn gabriel x reader #gabriel

[keepthyfaithandthylight]

Reincarnation au part 4?

The week went by slowly but surely, and soon enough it was Friday night. Most everyone had gone out partying, including Georges who seemed to talk about only that the entire day.

“You’re not going out?” Max asked, watching his roommate dry his hair with a towel. Always how their conversations started in the evening.

“Nah, I don’t really feel like it. I’d rather just stay in honestly.” He answered, hair now wrapped in said towel.

“I see. Well I picked up some microwave food, which I know is not the healthiest option, but it’s something. If you want some, of course.” Max suggested.

“Oh yeah, sure, I’ll take some.” Antoine replied, focusing more of his attention on other things. Max nodded to himself, before sliding off of his bed and making his way over to his stash of food.

“You know, I was thinking maybe tomorrow we could go and find like.. a shelf or something. I know you have an entire bag of stuff under your bed that you haven’t gone through, some extra storage might be helpful.” He suggested, already putting the food in the microwave.

“Sure, I guess.” Came the hesitant response.

Maybe that’s a bad idea. We’ll see tomorrow.

“Alright, well I hope you like ramen.” Max commented, with a chuckle.

“Of course, it’s a staple of college life isn’t it.” Antoine replied. “Thanks,” he said, grabbing the cup of noodles from Max before sitting back on his bed. Max grabbed his own cup of ramen before settling on his own bed.

In the end they ended up turning on some cheap knockoff Netflix horror movie which managed to last until 10:30.

***

For once the entire week, Max was not woken by the strange remix of Chop Suey, but instead the sun shining directly in his face. Drowsily making his usual cup of coffee, he sat for a moment in thought.

“I knew you were up the moment I smelled coffee.” Came an amused voice from somewhere. Max jumped, nearly spilling his coffee, before glancing to his side.

“Oh, it’s just you. Sorry, forgot where I was for a moment.” He said, airily, and Antoine snickered very briefly.

“I noticed.” He said, with a carefully raised brow. “So, IKEA?” Max slowly lowered his cup of coffee at that.

“Why specifically IKEA..?” He asked, and a glint of mischief briefly flashed in Antoine’s eyes.

“Because,” he began, “have you ever tried to assemble a piece of furniture from ikea..?” He asked, leaning against the counter.

“Yes, it never goes well.” Max responded, with confusion.

“Exactly. But not this time, because at least I’m not putting it together on my own.” His roommate said, digging around and pulling out a t-shirt. “So, finish your coffee and get ready, we’re leaving right after.” Max raised an eyebrow as his eyes went wide.

“Not if I’m the one driving we’re not?” He replied.

“You’re not, I am.” Max groaned, before downing his coffee as quickly as he could, rushing around to get ready. As he stood brushing his teeth, he noticed the shadows under his eyes getting darker, or at least, darker than they were one week ago. Pushing the thought aside, he refocused on getting ready.

“Please tell me you obey traffic laws..” he began, emerging from the bathroom.

“I wouldn’t have passed the test if I didn’t.” Answered Antoine, walking out the door and into the hall, Max sighing tiredly before following after him. The air, at least, was slightly cooler outside to Max’s relief.

Ah, finally fall is coming soon. What a relief.

Max fell quiet before getting in the car, putting the seatbelt on and making sure it was extra tight.

“So you’re telling me you lived in this car for who knows how long..?” He asked, nervously.

“Uh.. yeah. That would be correct. Not like I didn’t clean it out when I got here, calm down.” Replied Antoine, who was more focused on actually starting the car.

“No, no, I have no doubt that you did. I’m just saying it’s.. kind of small. And you had a lot of stuff plus yourself-“ Max continued, weighing his points invisibly in his hands.

“Oh. Yeah, that wasn’t really enjoyable. It wasn’t all bad though, I could just turn on music and look out at the stars through the sunroof. That was the best part honestly. Everything else was shit, and don’t get me wrong I love this car but it is not ideal to have to live out of.” Antoine replied again, already focused on driving.

I won’t press the issue further, it had to be a pretty personal reason. No one just immediately goes to living out of their car after graduating.

The highway signs passed like sand in an hour glass, and soon enough they found themselves wandering through an ikea.

“How about these?” Max asked, pointing to some small shelves. “They’re small but I think they’d be able to hold quite a bit, plus there’s multiple.” He continued.

“Yeah, those could probably work.” Antoine replied, and without a second thought he was grabbing the box. Max stared wide eyed for a moment, before nodding and following him once more.

Once the shelves were actually bought, they traversed the large parking lot all the way back to Antoine’s car, putting the shelves in the trunk and making their way back. Max could tell he was in for a long day.

Once they were sat back in their dorm, with the materials scattered about the floor, Max made himself another cup of coffee.

“Do we have a screwdriver?” Antoine asked, from his spot on the floor, nose deep in the instructions.

“I don’t think so.” Max answered, apologetically.

“Maybe Georges has one, could you go ask him? I really hate to ask him of all people but..” his roommate trailed off, and Max nodded.

And so then Max was marching off towards Georges’ dorm, knocking on the door before he had any time to protest.

“What the fuck do you- Maximilien..?” Georges asked, clearly hung over.

“Hi yes-“

“Who’s at the door?” A woman’s groggy voice asked from somewhere in the room, Max immediately went expressionless.

Of course.

“Just some guy from my art history class, don’t worry about it!” Georges called back in response, before turning back to Max. “Anyway, how can I help you.” The latter cleared his throat awkwardly.

“I was wondering if you have a screwdriver I could borrow.” He asked, and Georges thought for a moment.

“Actually, I think I do, give me a sec.” he said, briefly retreating back into his room, before returning and slapping a screwdriver in Max’s hand. “There you go, man.”

“Thanks.” Max said simply, and made his way back.

***

“I have our screwdriver.” Max said, passing it to Antoine, before grabbing his beloved coffee.

How would I manage to have made it this far without caffeine.

“See?! I told you this time would be better!” Antoine exclaimed suddenly, with triumph clear in his voice. In front of him sat a set of surprisingly logical shelves.

“Nice, now to just put them in the wall.” Max responded, smiling tiredly. It had taken the entire morning and most of the afternoon, the sun was close to setting.

Who knew it took this long to put shelves together? Actually, it’s most likely because they’re from ikea.

Then his phone buzzed.

Camille:

Hey dude, Lucile told me to tell you she said hello.

Anyway, we have a date set. The wedding is going to be March 3rd.

Max smiled at his phone before typing out his response.

‘Alright, I’ll put it in my calendar. Thank you for letting me know.’

He put his phone back down, before passing Antoine a nail that sat on the floor.

“That might be helpful.” He said, with a warm smile.

“Oh, thanks.” His roommate replied, taking the nail from him.

Max couldn’t really be much help with actually getting the shelves up on the wall, so he simply stared out the window and drank his coffee. His third cup.

It was surprisingly quiet that evening, everyone was either away for the weekend, or staying inside.

Somehow, he missed the sound of rustling around in the bag, and only just now registered the sound of what he thought was sniffling. He turned away from the window, face wrought with worry.

“Are you.. ok..?” He asked, and Antoine nearly jumped, before coughing, the cough obviously being fake.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine I just.. dust. In my nose.” He responded, completely avoiding turning around to face Max. “You know what, I’m going to shower before I go through the bag.” Max watched still as his roommate made a beeline for the bathroom.

Alright, that's troubling.

Max wasn’t going to just go snooping around in his roommates stuff, he figured that if Antoine wanted to talk he would.

The evening was spent ignoring the issue, eating more Chinese food, and watching movies.

The moon shone in brightly through the single window that they were lucky enough to have, as Max sat on his bed. Beside him, he heard the sound of a sigh and the bag being dragged out from under the bed, it’s contents being carefully piled together.

“That’s a big difference from how you treated the other bags,” Max commented, with a raised brow, his tone as light as he could manage.

“Well yeah, the contents are fragile.” Antoine answered, laughing dryly. “They’re pictures.”

“I see,” Max added, nodding sagely. There was a pause.

“Did you.. want to see them or something..?” His roommate asked, and he stared back intrigued. “I don’t really mind, you know.” With that he slid off of his bed, sitting on his roommates when the latter moved a bit to give him room.

In a pile, there sat photos. Photos that Max felt wrong for looking at.

“Who is that?” He asked, pointing to the other person in the picture. It was a girl, and she was smiling rather brightly.

“Right… that’s my ex.” Antoine answered. “And the reason I was living out of my car.” Max fell silent.

“Are you.. are you sure you want me looking at these..?” He asked, and the other shrugged.

“Doesn’t really matter honestly. They’re from a time that at this point is long gone.” Antoine answered. “Oh, this one’s funny. That was at the end of one of the school years, I can’t remember which, she and I and a bunch of our friends all just.. kind of.. spontaneously went camping. May or may not have stolen a car, that’s also the first time we decide to use fake ID’s, it was.. very illegal. But it was fun. Just don’t tell the cops.” He said, holding a picture with a group of teenagers in the middle of the woods by a lake in swim suits. Two familiar faces stood out. “He actually ended up getting stuck in a tree. No idea how he got up in said tree but once he did he could not get back down.” The pair laughed a bit. Picture after picture, Max felt like he was almost intruding. “Oh, that was graduation, oh and this one is when we ended up getting an apartment, and.. that was last Christmas.”

“You guys seemed very happy,” Max commented absently.

“Yeah, I guess we were.” Antoine answered, silence fell once more and before Max could even speak, his question was answered. “But, her parents absolutely hated me. Why I have no idea, but.. because we ended up getting the apartment together I had nowhere to stay so I ended up just living out of my car. In case you were wondering.” There was a pause. “Not her fault, really, but.. honestly she was one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. She was funny, too, and always so supportive. There’s no other person like her in the world.” Antoine rambled, voice clearly strained.

“You miss her, I can tell.” Max commented, brows knitted together. His heart hurt.

“Maybe I do, but it’s not like I’ll ever see her again.” Antoine answered.

“What was her name?”

“Thérèse.”

#frev but make it a poorly written reincarnation au. #frev #french revolution #claws out for the main 5 #that’s right everyone we’re bringing this back

[donutloverxo]

New Beginnings

Authors note- I promised you filth now I’m gonna deliver😈. Can be read as a sequel to white horse or a stand alone.

I’m sorry for subjecting y'all to this

Please like, comment and reblog 💕

Please do not steal steal or repost my content.

Summary- You and Steve are ready to take the next step in your relationship.

Warnings- smut, loss of virginity, mentions of voyeurism, mentions of sex toys, dub con(if you squint impossibly hard)

Word count- 2.5k (scroll to the middle if you wanna skip to smut)

masterlist

It had been over two weeks since the incident at the club. You were still traumatised from it. You felt a bit guilty about it, Steve and your other friends had been through so much worse their entire lives but you barely ever see them complaining about it.

And really it wasn’t even that bad. You didn’t have a single scratch from it, you had no right to feel so scared. You weren’t some dainty precious coward princess.

You woke up heaving and gasping for breathe. It was the same nightmare third night in a row. This time you were being held hostage in a bank robbery. It was always some variation of what had happened at the club. You looked at the time on your phone. It was 2 am.

Steve was in London. He’d be awake right now. He had been extremely patient with you. He insisted he didn’t have to go on the mission, he wanted to take care of you. But you didn’t want to take advantage of his caring nature insisted he go and you’d call him if anything goes wrong.

You stared at his contact in your phone contemplating the idea. You didn’t want him to worry, but at the same time you would hope he shared his troubling thoughts with you. You can’t expect him to be completely vulnerable with you without doing the same yourself.

Finally you sighed and called him. He picked up on the second ring.

“Hey doll.”

“Hey Stevie”, you smiled staring out your window from your bed. Really it was ridiculous how just hearing his voice made you feel calm and safe.

“How come you aren’t asleep?”, he asked and you could hear some shuffling in his background. Maybe he sneaked away from his teammates.

“I… I had a nightmare sort of.” You said playing with the strings on your sweatpants. “it’s really nothing. I mean you’re out there saving the world and I’m still stuck on something that happened weeks ago.”

He breathed your name almost as a way to scold you. “Don’t say that. You’re allowed to be scared. It’s completely normal”, you hummed to that and closed your eyes. His steady breathing making your sleepy. “actually I have to talk to you about that. I was going to wait till I got home and ask you over dinner.”

You moaned forcing your eyes open “what?”

“Well Nat and Sam are moving in the tower. I had an apartment there a while ago but then… It wasn’t for me. It has one of the best security systems in the world. You’ll be completely safe there”, he said and hesitated “maybe we could move in there. Together?”

You were wide awake now. Living in the tower would be amazing since it’s closer to work but living with Steve? Waking up next to him every morning, snuggling him every chance you get. That really sounds like a dream.

“Yes”, you blurt out.

“Really? You don’t want time to think about it?”, he asked and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“No. I think it’s an amazing idea.”

“Well then I can’t wait”

“Me neither”, you replied and drifted off to a dreamless slumber.

Over the next month you left your studio apartment and moved your things to the much larger penthouse. It was quiet high up. You would have to get used to the height.

You asked your doctor to start you on the pill. Tony Stark had offered you a position to work as a tech in the Avengers tower. It was your dream job. You had no intentions to get pregnant right now. But the idea of having kids with the super soldier wasn’t completely repulsive… One thing at a time!

Regardless of you taking the pill or not. You wouldn’t get pregnant because despite dating for over four months you and Steve hadn’t had sex. Was that weird? You were living and planning your future with a man you hadn’t slept with?

You had some steamy make out sessions when you’d grab his hand and make him grope you. When you felt his erection poking your thighs through his pants. That excited you and scared you at the same time. He felt so big. You were excited to see what he looked like but would it actually go in? That was a silly thought really.

He had confessed to you that he was a virgin and he was just looking for the right partner. You had some experience in the field but the fact that he didn’t put some pressure on you. What if he found you lacking in some way? You weren’t the most beautiful woman in the world.

Besides sex wasn’t your best friend. Although you liked the idea of it, it was kind of overrated. You had done it too soon in your previous relationships, and you were the kind of person that learns from her mistakes.

You were snuggling with Steve watching Netflix when a steamy scene came on. It wasn’t too graphic but extremely aesthetically pleasing. You felt Steve shift his hips under you.

“You know, I went to the doctor today. She started me on the pill.” You had to be brave. Just how long were you going to wait. After a couple of glasses of wine you had some liquid courage in you.

He hummed as a way to acknowledge you. “Maybe we should go to the bedroom.”

You smiled to yourself and switched off the tv.

Steve looked at you lighting some scented candles in the bedroom. ‘To set the mood’ apparently. He felt his whole life flash before his eyes.

How as a small sickly boy he felt vaguely jealous of his best friend Bucky. He never looked good enough standing next to him. He never really looked good anyway. If girls did talk to him it was because of Bucky.

He now cringed whenever he thought of those double dates. Where his date looked like she’d be anywhere in the world but with him. While Bucky’s date looked at him as if he was her world.

After the serum he was able to get the kind of body women fawned after. He had many women throw themselves at him. But there was no way to tell if it was genuine. If they saw him, the poor sick kid from Brooklyn, or if they saw the fame and glory of Captain America.

But then he met you. The first time you looked at him, really looked at him, he felt as if he was being truly seen for the first time in his life. You didn’t care so much about Captain America or the serum, you cared about him, listened to him and saw him.

It was as if part of him was missing for so long, that he found in you. He didn’t know how he ever lived without you. Now he would gladly give up the shield and everything that came with it to be with you.

He looked at you staring expectedly at him, kneeling in the middle of the bed.

He had little to no knowledge about sex or women in general.

He remembered how sneaked a peak at Bucky and a girl out of curiosity. He saw Bucky’s head between the girls legs. He ran away before he could see anymore.

When he asked Bucky what it was like he’d give him advice on how to please a woman, as if he was ever going to use it, until now.

‘Just remember to get her off at least once before you, tis only fair’

He swallowed when he looked at your figure. It definitely was extremely hard to wait to be with you for so long. He had thought and dreamed of this moment since he met you.

He recalled all the times he got embarrassingly hard at the slightest tough from you. He hoped and prayed that you hadn’t noticed, or maybe you did notice and liked it, why else would you be here?

All he’d ever done was made out with a few women. And there was that time Tony gifted him a rubber toy that resembled a woman’s bits as a crude and mean joke. He would never admit it but he did use it once before throwing it away. It was good…he couldn’t imagine how much better a real woman would feel, how much better you would feel.

You got tired of waiting and him staring at you with a blank face and crawled to him to the edge of the bed. You cradled his face in your hands and stared into his sea green orbs. You placed a kiss on his slightly cold soft lips. You felt his hands reach and squeeze your hips.

His hands roamed all over your body greedily taking in everything. He manoeuvred you till your head hit the pillow. He took off his shirt exposing his burly physique to you. You sat up and touched his pecs, your fingers gliding down tracing his abs.

You took off your nightgown and tossed it away. You watched him stare at you in awe. His hands shakily touched them and fondled them. He grazed your nipples under his thumb. They grew harder with his touch. He curiously squeezed them between his thumb and finger. He looked up at your face when he heard to gasp. His was growing harder and more impatient by the second.

He pushed you down on the bed. He kissed down your body, between your breath, then finally to your mould covered by your panties. He slid your panties off your legs. You awkwardly closed your legs shut. He sensed your discomfort and took off his pants and boxers.

Before you could see him he pushed your legs open and knelt down. He was awestruck looking at your pussy. Your juices glistening in the lowlight made his mouth water.

“Wait”, you exclaimed “no one… no ones ever” you babbled shaking your head.

He pushed you down. The fact that he can do anything to you, manhandle you however he likes, evoked something primal in him. He stuck his tongue out and tentatively to lick a stripe up your lips. You gasped and clasped onto his head.

He licked a few stripes as you thrashed and squirmed on the bed. You were making his job harder for him. He put his palm on your stomach to hold you still. He sucked your nub and you moaned. He went back and forth between sucking your nub harshly and licking fast quick strips.

You pushed his head in your pussy and latched onto it with both your hands as you came. You felt breathless and weightless, as if you were floating on a cloud.

He lapped at you before moving to kiss you. He got worried when he saw tears in your eyes. He wiped them with his thumb. “Hey what’s wrong?”, he had gotten too excited and lost himself in the moment.

This was completely new territory to you. You had never felt this before. None of your ex boyfriends had ever went down on you or made you come. That was such a mind blowing orgasm. You wondered if you had actually had a real orgasm before.

“I’m perfectly fine.”, you said and gave him a hazy smile. “it’s your turn now.”

You pushed him up by his pecs and sat up on your knees in front of him. You looked down and saw his cock hard and up against his stomach. It was the biggest and prettiest you had ever seen.

You grabbed it with both your hand and gave it a few strokes and pulls. “It’s so big”, you cooed.

He was extremely thankful to the serum in that moment. The way you looked at it and tugged at it, as if it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen, and your compliment stroked his ego.

You opened your mouth as wide as you could and still struggled to fit him in it. You sucked at his tip and stroked the parts you couldn’t reach, which was more than half of it.

He bunched up your hair in his hand and groaned, trying to hold on from cuming in your mouth. It wouldn’t be too difficult for him to get hard again, what with you sitting right there naked as the day you were born, but he had other ideas.

He pushed your head away and tried to hold on by taking a few breathes. He bent down to kiss you, tasting himself on his mouth. You moaned in his mouth.

He broke the kiss to see you touching yourself. He wondered if you had been touching yourself with him in your mouth. Were you so desperate for him?

You slid two fingers in your pussy and smiled at his furrowed brows looking almost hypnotised by your pussy. “I’m afraid you won’t fit”, you giggled still on a high from your previous orgasm. “wanna taste?”, you asked and brought your fingers near his mouth.

He opened his mouth and sucked harshly on your fingers. Savoring your taste.

You climbed onto his lap staring into his eyes. You stroked his cock and lined him up to your pussy.

“I love you”, he said and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You bent down slowly and took him inch by inch in your pussy. “I love you too”, you moaned.

Having you around him, being inside you surrounded by your heat, felt as close to heaven as he would ever get. You were tight and snug and perfect. More perfect than he ever could’ve imagined or dreamed.

You bounced on his cock increasing the pace slowly and steadily. You kissed his shoulder then sucked on his earlobe.

You adjusted your hips to rub your clit on his pelvis with his cock hitting your g-stop you were on your way to your second orgasm. “Oh I’m gonna cum”, you breathed out in his ear.

“Do it, use me, cum on me”

You faltered and stopped gushing down his cock and screaming.

He laid you on the bed and started thrusting into you. You were still breathless and delirious from your orgasm.

He was always fascinated by how small and petite you were. With you under him and him draped over you, looking down at your face, he was sure that all you could see and feel was him.

He grabbed your hips and pushed harder into you. He was sure to leave bruises. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. It would be a reminder, for you, that you belong to him and him alone.

“Come on doll one more”, he was determined to bring you off one more time.

You moaned at him and wrapped yourself around him. You screamed and felt the knot in your belly release.

He hips stuttered, you felt him come inside you, his warm cum coating your walls.

He pulled out of you and laid down beside you trying to catch his breathe. You snuggled into his side and closed your eyes.

Maybe being here with you was a way the universe was paying him back for all the years he’d lost.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x oc #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans #avengers x reader #avengers x y/n #avengers x you #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fic #steve rogers angst #steve rogers drabble #steve rogers fan fiction #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers headcanon #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers reader insert #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steve rodgers x reader #chris x reader #marvel x reader #marvel x you #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america

[spicycreativity]

The Core Four (Logan, Roman, Virgil and Patton) are somewhere spooky, old house, in the woods, etc etc, and it's a place where poltergeist/demon/ghost/devil/spirit/whatever you want Remus resides and haunts and is scary and evil in. (Or they summon him) And he's like "Ooh time to mess with them muahahahaha!" but he sees Patton and gets like this "Cute boy!" And gets interested in Patton instead.

Boop

Words: 2k

Pairing: Pre-slash Intruality

Other notes: College AU, mild Vitaminwater slander, somewhat based on my own college experience of being straight edge and bored all the time and also owning multiple fist-sized chunks of quartz crystal purchased from the tent outside the gas station down by the on-ramp on the far side of town 🥴 Our abandoned dorm building was not haunted, tho

Content warnings: Mentions of underage drinking (not depicted), mentions of overdosing (non-graphic), Remus is sexually forward toward Patton, swearing, innuendo, etc. Still, I'd only rate this T

While it was rooming assignments that brought Roman, Patton, Logan, and Virgil together during the first weeks at university, it was their mutual unwillingness to break any sort of rule that kept them together. While their peers were drinking smuggled alcohol and racking up write-ups from the RAs, the foursome would sit on Logan and Virgil's side of the dorm suite drinking Vitaminwater and attempting to entertain themselves with board games and Netflix. This, predictably, got old quickly and weekends soon became a desperate battle to stave off boredom and existential ennui.

The fraying thread of Roman's patience finally snapped the night Patton suggested Pogs. The lack of adventure had chafed at him longer than it had the others and he secretly longed for some sort of thrill, even if it meant breaking the rules.

"Ugh," Roman threw himself backwards onto the pillow he'd stolen from Logan's bed, nearly knocking over Patton's mostly-full bottle of grape Vitaminwater. "We're seriously so lame that we can't think of anything better to do than Pogs?" 

"Hey," said Virgil from atop his bed, and shook a few drops of açai-blueberry-pomegranate sugar water onto Roman's forehead.

"Sorry, Patton," Roman added, wrinkling his nose at the unpleasant sensation. "No offense, but I'm just so bored! I was expecting more adventure when I finally left my dreary old hometown."

"I thought you told us you were from Los Angeles," Logan said, tossing a package of Wet Wipes down onto Roman's chest. "And Virgil, I understand why you would want to teach Roman a lesson, but please try not to stain my pillowcase."

"What do you wanna do, Roman?" Patton asked, adjusting himself where he was propped up against one of the legs of Logan's bed.

"I don't know! All I know is that I have the most boring Snap story out of everyone in my stupid 100-level History class. Remy went surfing the other day. And he's from Nebraska! How does he know how to surf?" 

"There it is," Virgil said.

Roman sat up again and opened up the Wet Wipes so he could clean off his face. "Lightning round! Suggestions. Go!" He pointed at Virgil.

"Um," said Virgil. "Uh-- Sca-- Uh, horror marathon. Horror movie marathon."

"Ugh, no." Roman pointed at Logan.

"Studying."

"Oh, come on. Patton?"

"We all go to bed early so we can wake up and get breakfast together before the dining hall runs out of waffle batter?"

"Guuuys." Roman pointed at Virgil again.

"Man, I dunno, Roman! Like I'm the expert in what looks good on a Snapchat story."

"You're the one who's bored," Logan added. "Why don't you suggest something?"

"That's not how it works!" Roman shot back. "I'm the-- the arbiter, the czar! You're the idea guys."

"Okay, fine!" Virgil leaned over the edge of the bed to better give Roman the evil eye. "How about we break into the shut-down dorms with a ouija board and try to contact the spirit of that kid who OD'ed in the bathroom?"

"That's the spirit," Roman said.

"Ha," Patton said weakly.

"Wait," said Virgil, already desperately trying to make eye contact with Logan. "I was kidding. You can't be serious."

"No, no, that's a great idea! Virgil, go get your ouija board and whatever other spooky shit you have tucked away.

"We're going now?" Patton squeaked.

Logan sighed and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Roman, anything you post to your Snapchat story can potentially be turned in as evidence and used to incriminate you. I suggest you leave your phone behind."

"Wait!" Virgil ran his hands through his hair, agitated. "You can't possibly be on board with this."

"I'm not," said Logan. "I am offering Roman advice for the same reason high school nurses' offices offer condoms: not as an encouragement, but as a safety measure. Either we all agree to go now or we all agree to go tomorrow night after Roman spends the whole day pouting and whining--"

"Hey!"

"So I suggest we just get it over with," Logan concluded.

"Seriously?" Patton was already pale and shaking, holding a stray hoodie of Virgil's close to his chest.

"It's okay, Patton," Virgil said, offering him a reassuring smile. "I'll let you wear my horn of protection amulet."

It took just under an hour to get everyone changed into darker clothes and outfitted with protective symbols from Virgil's collection. In addition to silver amulets and charms, he had handed out fist-sized chunks of quartz crystal to all of them with careful instructions not to lose them, as he wanted everything back at the end of the night.

But soon (all too soon for Patton) they faced the looming silhouette of the abandoned Monroe Hall. It was in surprisingly good repair despite the lack of security cameras and floodlights to deter intruders. In fact, the only light came from the blue emergency callbox situated a few yards down the path.

"We, genius," Virgil said, turning to Roman. "How do we get in?"

"I don't know!" Roman tossed up his hands. "I'd Google how to pick a lock but somebody" --he glared at Logan-- "made us leave our phones in the microwave."

"I already told you, it's a functional Faraday cage and--"

"Yeah, yeah, how about we save the science lectures for 8:00 am on Tuesdays and Thursday," Roman said.

"That was oddly specific," Virgil muttered, trying and failing to exchange a glance with Patton, who was staring at the ground and turning over the quartz crystal in his hands. "Wait, I've got an idea." He took his own chunk of quartz out of his pocket and slammed it through the glass door, sending a shower of tempered glass clattering onto the tiled floor inside. Then he stepped through the hole and beckoned the others in after him. "Let's go."

Patton made a muffled sound of fear and grabbed onto Logan's arm.  "You don't really think there's a ghost, do you?"

"Of course not," Logan said, leading Patton inside and following Virgil to the stairs.

"Wait!" Roman jogged ahead to lead the charge. "Are we not gonna talk about Virgil just--"

"Found a broken door and stepped through it?" Virgil interrupted, bumping Roman with his hip. "No, we are not."

Roman led them up a flight of stairs and down a corridor similar to the one in their own dorm building. All the doors they tried were locked, so they set up the ouija board in the hallway outside the bathrooms.

"Okay, gang," Virgil said once they were all sequestered around the board. "Pointer fingers on the planchette."

"Not our whole hands?" Roman asked.

Virgil shot him a sideways glare. "I'm sorry, are you the expert on the occult?"

"Are you?" Roman asked.

"Relative expert," Virgil said, sticking out his tongue. "Now. Pointer fingers on the planchette."

"I really don't know if this is a good idea," Patton said, extending a shaking hand.

"You should be more afraid of campus security," Logan said. "Although from the state of the building, it appears that we are the first to successfully enter."

"Nothing's happening," Roman complained, his eyes on the planchette.

"We haven't asked a question yet, genius," Virgil sneered.

"It seems rude to barge into someone's house and just start asking questions," Patton said. He looked up, addressing the ghost. "Hi!"

The planchette jerked and began to shake. Anticipating Virgil's accusation, Roman held up his other hand. "It's not me!"

"Shut up!" Virgil snapped. "It's moving."

They read the letters out loud together as the planchette began to move around the board: "N-I-C-E." Pause. "C-O-C-K."

"Oh, come on." Virgil grabbed the planchette and threw it at Roman's face. "Not funny."

"I swear that wasn't me!" Roman said, smacking the planchette down. It clattered across the board and came to a stop by the number '2.'

"Roman," Patton chided, "it's really not nice to mess with us like that."

"You too?' Roman said. He turned to Logan. "Come on, Specs, you know it wasn't me."

"I know it wasn't a ghost. I know it wasn't me. I know Patton and Virgil aren't likely to make that sort of joke. Therefore, I can safely posit that it must have been you. Although I wouldn't make an accusation without more evidence."

"Oh, come on!" Roman put his hand on the planchette despite Virgil's noise of protest. "Hey, spirit. Can you do something else spooky so my friends stop accusing me of--"

What happened next was equal parts anticlimactic and chilling: Roman's eyes turned green and began to emit a gentle glow. He was silent for only a moment before turning to Patton with a chipper smile. "Hey, hot stuff! Nice cock."

"Whoa" said Virgil, scrambling backwards toward the wall. "What the fuck."

"He invited me in!" said Roman, or more accurately, the ghost possessing Roman's body.

"Oh my God," Patton said. "That's not Roman."

"Yeah, no shit!"

"I'll give him back in a minute," said the spirit. "I just had to shoot my shot with hottie over here. What's your name, sugar?"

"Uh," said Patton, glancing wildly at Virgil (who was fumbling in his pocket for his holy water or his salt, whatever he found first) and Logan (who was actively blue-screening). "Patton?"

"Nice to meet you, Patton." The ghost stuck Roman's hand out for a shake. "Name's Remus. Has anyone ever told you you're kinda DILF-y for a college student?"

"N-no?"

"Well, you are."

"Thanks, I guess." Patton sat back and pulled his legs up to his chest in an unmistakably defensive pose. "Um, is there something that you wanted, Remus?"

"I already told you!" Roman's face beamed in a way it never had before, his eyes twitching strangely in their sockets. "I just popped in to shoot my shot. So?"

"He's propositioning you," Logan hissed. 

"I…" said Patton, panic whiting out his mind. Unable to find words, he held up his left hand to show off the silver band on his ring finger.

"You're married?" Roman's body leaned forward to read the engraved writing. "True love waits."

"It's a purity ring," Virgil explained, finally extricating a small vial from the tangle of cords and chains in his pocket. "And this is holy water."

"Wait," said Remus, "are you guys exorcising me? Cause I swear I'm gonna give you your friend back. I'm dead, not evil. Also," he turned to Patton, "is that a no?"

"Yes!"

"Wait, so you do wanna bang?"

"No!"

"Alright, alright, damn." Remus leaned Roman's body back, putting up his hands in a defensive gesture. "You know, I was gonna go full poltergeist and try to see if I could make you all cry, but I changed my mind when I saw Hot Pat-tato. Soooo, you're welcome."

"Yeah," said Virgil, "I'm not sure we should be thanking you for taking over our friend's body. Give him back, by the way."

"Wait!" said Patton. "Remus, why aren't you at rest? Is there something we can do to help you move on?"

"Nah," said Remus. "To be honest, I just wanted to haunt the crap out of some dumb college kids."

"Need I point out," Logan said, "that you are also a dumb college kid?"

Virgil looked around at the empty halls, walls of closed doors, the dusty spiderwebs hanging like streamers in the corners. "Wait. There's nobody to haunt."

"Yeah," said Remus. Roman's shoulders shrugged. "It's been kinda lonely and boring. 

"Sucks to suck," Virgil said, brandishing the sealed vial of holy water. "Okay, time to go."

Remus sighed and crossed Roman's arms over his chest. "Fine. I didn't really want to haunt you guys anyway."

"I might…" Patton twisted up his mouth thoughtfully, rubbing his fingers along the quartz crystal in his pocket. "Maybe I'll come back and say hello sometime."

The grin that unfurled across Roman's face was so familiar that Patton nearly hugged him. But his eyes were still that slightly luminescent green, still twitching and rolling like he was trying to take in every detail of the world all at once. "Really?"

Patton nodded and held out his hand palm-up. Roman's hand was icy, but Patton forced himself not to flinch as he brought his head down and kissed Remus' knuckles. "Really."

For a moment, there was silence. Then came a gentle warmth, and confused brown eyes staring down at Patton, who only had time to gasp before Roman tilted his head in confusion. "Um, Patton? Why are you holding my hand?"

#you are contractually obligated to point out any formatting errors or typos #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #intruality #college au #spicywrites #patton sanders #remus sanders #anyway i am forever entertained by the idea of ONLY projecting my idiosyncrasies onto the characters and none of my psychological trauma #hence the overshare about college #you can know every exact details of what i did from ages 18-21 but i will never ever tell you how my parents fucked me up #no bummers! funny shit only!

[vv3nti]

i mean it — part one

jj maybank x reader

summary: jj would take the fall for any of his friends, he’s always ready to intervene and save the day. whenever y/n needed his help without question he was ready to move the mountains for her, he would do anything for her even if it meant giving up a lot himself. 

warnings: drug usage, soft jj, i didn’t read this over yikes

inspired by the netflix original series the society and the heart-warming scene of jj taking the blame for pope so he could keep his scholarship. there is a chunk of dialogue from the society— all rights to them. 

a/n: hello this is my outer banks side-blog you can find my other writing here at @nostalthicc​. send some request. 

you never want to be the one on the outside looking in but for y/n’s friends that precisely what they were going through. for the last hour or so, kiara, pope, and jj have been posted outside of y/n’s room door waiting for her to let them in and explain what’s going on. she was honestly an open person, so this caught everyone by surprise, what would happen for y/n to spend hours crying in her room? none of them knew what to do or what to expect; that’s why the pogues stayed at her door listening to the horrifying sobs, waiting for john b to get here with some food and drinks.

“what do you mean she won’t come out?” john b asked calmly as he pinched the bridge of his nose, pondering for a solution. food didn’t work, nor did her favorite drink. they needed to get creative because everyone was restless, and jj was ready to kick down the door- this was strongly disapproved by all the pogues. “okay, okay, listen. clearly, she doesn’t want all of us to see her right now, so we send one of us, right?” everyone nodded in agreement before all their eyes trailed to jj.

he rolled her eyes, gesturing john b to give him goods, it was no lie when it came to jj and y/n, the two of them had an unbreakable bond, and they were hoping that would help him get through to the girl. “i’ll call you in an hour.”

once the rest of the pogues were gone, jj slid down the wall, he knocked a few times announcing he was the only one left but still no response. after many failed attempts, he did the only logical thing to do, jj pushed a perfectly rolled blunt under the door.

a few moments later, he heard her hoarse voice. “i don't have a lighter.”

a smirk graced his lips, jj knew weed would do the trick, it always does. he was close to sliding his lighter to y/n, but an idea popped into his head. “if you want it, you gotta open the door.” he hesitantly spoke, hoping it wouldn’t cause her to inclose herself back into the room but to jj's luck y/n opened the door. it was difficult for him to take in her appearance, her hair was a disheveled mess atop her head, her eyes and nose were red from crying, tear stains ran down her cheeks, and y/n had a broken look in her eyes. jj hated seeing his friend like this, he would give anything to see a smile on her face instead of her dull expression.

"stop starring and give me the lighter." y/n held her hand out. "please." she added, not looking the boy in his eyes in fear of him asking her more questions. but she should have none better; this was jj.

"hey, wait, wait, wait." he began, getting onto his feet. "you don't get to lock us out of your room when you're clearly hurting and then act as though nothing happened. uh-uh y/n, not with me. you and i both know i don't work that way."

"well, maybe you should have let kie or pope stay because i have every intention of pretending nothing happened. i'm fine." a scowl was evident on your face, but he knew she was hurting and trying to push him away, he'd done it a thousand times himself.

jj drew a long breath before stepping into the room, noting she didn't try to stop him. "doesn't matter. i'm here, and you are not fine, so tell me what's up."

y/n wanted to tell him, she really did, but none of this was his problem, y/n knew jj already had enough on his plate and didn't need to be plagued with her difficulties- none of them did. she needed to figure this out on her own, the pogues wouldn't help her get out of this one. the smoke from jj's hit drew y/n out of her thoughts, she hadn't even noticed he had made himself right at home on her bed.

"okay, hit me." he leaned towards the girl, handing her the lit blunt. she declined, turning away and dragged her fingers through the mess on her head. "something's definitely wrong, you don't want to smoke. what's going on, you opened the door for my lighter but not to light the blunt? that doesn't make a lick of sense, not one bit. you know you have to light it to smoke it, right?"

his rambling was overwhelming the girl, she couldn't even begin to think when jj wouldn't shut up. of course, she knew she had to light the blunt, she wasn't an idiot, but the consequences that came with the blunt weren't worth it. before jj could send her into another spiraling break down y/n rushed to the bathroom, unintentionally slamming the door. little did she knew it allowed jj the perfect opportunity to get some answers, which he indeed found.

"y/n, i'm not playing this game again, open the door." he hissed while tugging on the doorknob. "the rest aren't here to stop me, i will kick this down." silence. "i know, y/n, i know you're pregnant, just come out."

"i'm scared," she confessed, a sob raking through her body.

"i know, sweetheart, but if you open the door i can help you, we'll figure this out, okay?" jj smiled triumphantly when y/n slowly appeared, but it instantly faded when he regarded her broken stance. quickly he swept her into his arms, holding her in a tight embrace as she cried.

y/n momentarily pulled away. "i fucked up bad, i fucked up so bad. what am i supposed to do?" jj didn't want to engage in such a touchy conversation until she had calmed down and was in the right headspace, so he held onto her tighter, rocking back and forth.

when y/n finally regained herself and dried all her tears, the two were able to sit face to face, one pogue to another, and have the awaited conversation. although y/n would admit it, she was relieved to have the weight lifted off her chest.

"it's not mine, though, right? i don't remember anything, but i've been pretty drunk in the past." the boy teased, earning a small smile from his best friend, a smile he has been waiting to see for ages. y/n threw a pillow at his face claiming this wasn't a joking matter, but jj didn't miss the giggle passing her lips. "seriously, do you know who the father is?"

"i don't ever want you to ask me that question again ." y/n was slightly offended he would even fix his mouth to mutter such a question, but she pushed her offensive away to reply. "just respect that one thing,  i don't want him in my baby's life, ever. that's the end of it, don't ever ask me that again."

jj apologized; those were not at all his intentions, but he was curious about who had landed the girl, not many others. he had a few ideas of his own; however, he chose to not further push the subject. he adverted his attention and proposed more simplistic questions, the basics; when did you find out? how did you find out? how are you feeling? do your parents know?

most we easy, straight-forward questions, yet one specifically caught notice. "yes, they know, i needed to ask my mom for guidance, they just want to know who the father is and i can't tell them, i won't tell them, but i fear what will happen if i don't."

"this guy, you really don't want him anywhere near you or your baby?" jj entreated, y/n replied with a nod. she could see the wheels turning in his head, which never resulted in a good idea. "then i'll be the father, i'm the father, simple."

y/n eyes grew the size of saucers, she had no words, no thoughts, all she could do was stare closely at her friend who wore a look of eagerness upon his features. y/n wasn't sure she heard him right. "no, you don't have to do that?"

"why not? jj counted.

she scoffed, rolling her eyes at his attempt. "this isn't like taking the blame for me when i almost blew up the chemistry lab-."

"-god, you owe me so much."

"i'm serious, this isn't a joke, jj." she tucked a few fly-aways behind her air. "it's big, and it's forever. you don't get to say that if you don't mean it." a mix of emotions were coursing through her veins; sadness, confusion, anger, gratitude, hatred. y/n couldn't pinpoint exactly which one, but they all were making her dizzy.

"you're my best friend, and i love you. of course, i mean it." jj placed a light kiss on the top of her head, he often made impulsive decisions especially when they involved the people he loved, but this one felt right. y/n felt right, she had done so much for him, and he was ready to do this for her and the baby. his baby. "i'd do anything for you y/n, and that'll never change, i will do everything to protect the two of you."

she watched with admiration in her eyes as jj explained all the details, she has a new level of respect and love for him, one that can never be replaced. y/n was content; finally, an emotion she never thought would plague her being after she found out the news, she was awaiting the future, but the future didn't have as glorious as plans as the pair hoped for.

jj had convinced y/n it was best if they told her parents as soon as they got home, he didn't want her to face y/f/n and y/m/n's wrath any longer. they were typical, uptight, materialistic kooks, and he had soon how disapproving they could be up close and personal. once they were informed, y/n and jj could better plan for the future, like a doctor's appointment as soon as possible. maybe it didn't go as smoothly as they planned, but at least it was over with.

"a pogue?" y/n's mother gasped, earning a stone-cold glare from her daughter. her father's reaction was much less surprising as if he expected the news. "as if you hanging around them wasn't enough."

"y/m/n, calm down." mr. l/n spoke in a somber tone, sure maybe he wanted to throw around some unkind words of his own, he was keeping his composure together for his daughter's sake. "that's not what we need to focus on." he began, scratching at his chin. "i'll make an appointment with dr. chen on the mainland, we will help you financially, but we expect you two to show some initiative as well."

y/m/n scoffed, her eyes zeroed in of jj, disgust was written on her face. she hated pogues because she used to be one and since she married y/n's father. y/m/n had wholly forgotten where she came from. "we'd be better off sending y/n to live with your aunt, you think he will be able to support y/n and her baby."

"-our baby." jj intervened. "you're not sending her or my baby away. i may be a pogue, but i know better than anyone how important family is, and i will assure i will do everything for these two." y/n's heart clenched as he spoke, she couldn't help but feel guilty for the way her parents were treating him when the baby wasn't even his. he shouldn't have to worry about providing for the baby, none of this was fair, and y/n felt ashamed for allowing jj to do this.

shortly after jj's rant, the two were able to get out of there and away from her mother. now it all came down to somehow explaining this the pogues. the entire drive to the cut y/n kept asking the boy if he was absolutely certain he wanted to go through with this, that there was still time to back out and live his life, but jj continuously assured her this is what he wanted to do, and he wasn't changing his mind.

the group had mixed reactions, which jj and y/n had expected. john b was mainly confused as to how this happened, the pair had never shown a romantic interest in each other, or a sexual one either. many questions plagued through his head, but john b decided to wait because he understood how overwhelming this is for his friends. pope was freaking out, going on about how a baby is a lot of work and it's presence throwing off the dynamic of the group. he shared his troubles with y/n's schooling as well as other minor concerns, pope sounded more like their parents than a friend. and lastly kiara, she was a bit leerier about the subject, she was a hard believer of the no pogue on pogue macking rule and with good reason to. what's done is done, and she made it clear she was the baby's godmother, this caused john b and pope to start bickering about how got to be the godfather.

y/n was happy with her friend's reaction, sure they may not know the entire truth, but the pogues treat her or act any different. it was merely another hardship they'd have to face together because it takes a whole village to raise a child, right? but no all good things last and y/n's pregnancy announcement spread very fast through the outer banks, and it may have caught a certain kook by a bit of a surprise.

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #outer banks #john b #john b x reader #kiara carrera #sarah cameron #pope heyward #rudy pankow #obx #rafe cameron #topper #netlix #jiara #sarah cameron x reader #pope heyward x reader #rafe cameron x reader #kiara carrera x reader #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic

[moondustaeil]

ᴄᴏʟᴏᴜʀɪᴢᴇᴅ ᴇᴄʀᴜ ⊰❀ ᴋ.ᴊᴡ

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ✧☾.·:·. colourized ecru

⠀ ⠀⠀ about

⋅  genre : soulmates!au - fluff, angst, suggestive content

⋅  pairing : Jungwoo x reader

⋅  word count : 25.8k

⋅  warning: it gets a little bit suggestive at the end, but no actual smut

⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀⠀ synopsis

⋅   “Pick a colour” said lady Cyan who was strangely familiar. Your fingertip had endlessly trailed over the palette, but you picked ecru. Every day that goes by: you sit under the Daimyo oak that protected five little daisies, little did you know one of the five daisies is willing to give you a “loves me” or “loves me not” with Jungwoo, the boy from the enchanted soulmate library...

⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀⠀ colours

⋅  this is a collab created by @neo-cult-ure​ , where me and other writers went for a soulmate concept but each went our own ways with a specific plot. I would like to take the time to thank everyone in this collab: for the friendship and for the process that we underwent together ! Please check out their fics as well. [Author’s note is at the bottom]

「ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ : # ꜰꜰꜰꜰꜰꜰ」

Sat with your back against a tree, it nearly appears that you're one of the stereotypical nature-lovers on earth. It would have looked like a regular thing to do, if only you held a cliché poetry book, or if you weren't sitting there whilst clouds were turning into a very dark shade of blue. The if-only scenarios were only fiction as in reality you were sitting against a tree in the middle of a weather transition, your hands empty and your eyes shut.

"pick a colour," a faint but comforting voice tells you, you nearly feel comfortable due to the sugary sweet undertone in the voice if it weren't for the pair of eyes you were greeted with. The cyan-coloured eyes look straight into yours even if yours were shut in reality.

Upon hearing the request, your eyes open themselves to do as you are asked. A soft layer of dust seems to coat your eyelashes which causes your eyes to flutter open a couple of times before you're greeted with the world. Your expectations don't meet up with what's actually in front of you, the last thing you had in mind was an empty landscape on each angle that your eyes explored. No one with a cyan-coloured pair of eyes staring into yours, in fact, no one is around you at all. There is no colour palette from which you can pick a colour, the only colour palette is that of the scenery. Just a stereotypical scene surrounds you: green grass, white daisies, and a very dark rain-filled sky.

It's going to rain, and it's a shame that you have to find out the second it's too late. Little droplets rapidly leak from the dark clouds, not enough to get you soaked, but enough to make you realise it was time to leave. You get up from under the tree, setting off in a fast walking pace as you leave the park. You don't run as you don't want to look like the fool who sat in the park whilst knowing it would rain, that embarrassing feeling is not something you want to give yourself. Whatever you were doing under a tree on a rainy Sunday evening is forgotten momentarily.

The world seems strangely different but one thing that stayed the same was the way to your apartment, and you're lucky it's only a ten-minute walk, nine if you continue to keep up the slightly faster walking pace. Though thanks to the weather, the walk seems a bit longer, but still only exactly nine minutes pass when you sprint up to the stairs towards the second floor.

You close the front door behind yourself once you're inside the apartment. The first thing you do is kick off the wet pair of Vans on your feet, you leave them in the middle of the hallway before stepping over them to get into your living room. You stare at the decorated living room, staying silent as there is no roommate you have to greet, which luckily allows you to glue yourself onto the sofa for the rest of the night. Dinner could have been made but you're not in the mood to make a mish-mash out of leftover ingredients.

For everything in life, there's a useful app, just like there's a useful app that you use to order your dinner with. Unfortunately, there's no such thing that gives you an explanation for your own weird actions like sitting underneath a tree for god knows how long. You pay for your dinner before throwing your phone aside, leaving social media to drown in its toxic nature.

You stand up from the sofa and head to the bathroom. You wash up by taking a quick shower, brush your teeth, do your overly extensive skincare routine even though you don't feel like it, and lastly change into your most comfortable nightwear. Right when you leave the bathroom and are about to settle yourself down on the sofa, the intercom stops you and tells you the food arrived. Luckily for you, you already paid and the delivery man is nice enough to drop off your food right in front of your door instead of two floors down.

"thank you!" you say extra loud so that the delivery man manages to hear you even when he's already on his way downstairs. You lift up the bag with food and instantly take it inside before any of your friendly neighbours come outside to have a healing talk. Once you close the door again, you decide that it's the moment to lock yourself in for the rest of the evening. A house party by yourself seems the perfect way to name what you're about to do: watch abandoned Netflix series while you occupy your sofa as a dining area.

You slowly start eating whilst Netflix provides you with entertainment. Yet, the series isn't interesting enough to keep you distracted from your thoughts, that or your thoughts are very determined to keep the subject alive. The view of two characters getting in a petty fight over money is replaced by the same view as earlier: the pair of cyan-coloured eyes that were staring into yours, followed by the sight of the tree you had been sitting under not long ago. There was something about the scene that seemed too important to forget as it constantly returned to your mind.

But why was it that you couldn't forget about it? Your eyes close as you give in to the thoughts before they consume your entire brain. It seems like a bunch of little white clouds start to form in your mind, each of them is filled with a tiny piece of information about the unforgettable encounter. Despite your confusion, you’re willing to make those little clouds pop in order to receive some new information. Firstly told was that you weren’t allowed to forget the tree or lose focus of it, another cloud tells you to remember the tree because it might not be there forever. The little clouds fill the blank spaces in your mind, but it’s not enough.

You indeed never saw the tree before, it is something you can conclude after you went on a train of memories. Before today, you had been in the park numerous times to situate objects and pieces of nature, it was a little bit too familiar to say that you had no idea whether you saw the tree before or not. A piece of your heart interrupts your thoughts, without words making your interest in the tree bigger with each second you thought about it. Perhaps you would listen to yourself and keep an eye out for the tree, just to check if you weren’t betraying yourself.

After sighing, you shake your head to yourself. “You’re going crazy,” you tell yourself in a whisper, taking the glass of water from the side and sip from it to wash away the stream of useless thoughts. Fortunately for the future, it’s a mission you would fail in. Unfortunately for you, the thoughts wouldn’t get washed away for quite a while.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

7:05 am

You wake up with a jerk, immediately catching your breath as you came back from running a marathon. The faint voice in your mind disappears, leaving you alone in your dark bedroom. The distant sound of rain drumming against your window makes your eyes open, searching for the little patch of light in the darkness until your eyes are fixated on the window.

It must be raining outside and you must be in your room. Unlike a minute ago when you found yourself in the park once more, sat underneath the same tree as yesterday with the cyan-coloured eyes staring at you from a distance. Your tensed body falls back onto the bed in relief, you're happy to be in bed even though the urge to go to that specific spot is eating you from the inside. Slowly but surely you turn your body towards the window, eyes focused on the patch of light that shines through. The sky seems grey like it's grieving for the start of a new week, but you're just grateful that you're not completely consumed by the darkness in your room.

When you think about something so much, people would say that you're in love, but clearly, you can't be in love with a tree, can you? If it was up to you to explain your feelings towards the tree: it would be a mix of hatred due to the constant thoughts about it, but also fascination because of the unknown meaning behind it. It's no secret that by now, you actually start to believe you're either way delusional, or that faith is on your side but you're not sure why.

"Fuck it" you quietly tell yourself as you get your sore body out of bed, starting the day rather impulsively as you would have preferred to stay in bed for a little while longer. Your nightwear is ditched on the sheets as you almost shoot yourself into yesterday's outfit. There's a sauce stain from last night's dinner in the middle of your shirt, but the dried-up spot is something your eyes miss or don't even care about at this moment. It's too late to question what you're doing before you realise it, you've already left the bedroom.

Similar to other and more rushed mornings, breakfast is something you forget about, though now it seems like abandoning it willingly rather than just forgetting about it. You walk past the kitchen and directly into the hallway, exchanging your bare feet for the wet shoes you left in the middle of the path yesterday evening. It seems like you're rewinding yesterday's events even though this time, you sprint down the stairs instead of up.

The moment you walk out of the apartment complex, you can feel the little droplets of rain layering onto your hair, it's like taking a shower first thing in the early morning. The feeling is annoying and it could lead to you getting sick, but you don't think of the consequences, neither are you caring about them right now. The sprint turns into a fast walking pace as you're greeted by a still calm street. Luckily at this hour, there aren't many people around, and if they are then they're in a rush to get to work.

Your feet speed up lightly as the urge to get to the park grows only bigger knowing you're only ten minutes away from the place. You walk further towards the park even though it's hard to keep yourself from going past the walking pace, luckily you're just very determined to keep your bit of dignity. Ten minutes isn't that much in reality, even if it takes up one of the six parts in an hour and one of the three parts in half an hour.

When the park comes into view, you opt to ignore the presence of a few early birds that jog towards the park, just like them you start jogging. The remaining minute turns into a matter of seconds as you run through the unofficial entrance and straight towards the tree that you feel captivated by. You don't care that you're running over the grass rather than the ground, it's not like the bit of dew could make you slip.

Your feet come to an abrupt halt once you're close enough to the tree, only taking smaller steps towards the piece of nature until it seems like the tree could engulf you in its branches. You greet the tree with a smile, unaware of your own little gesture. With the bit of distance between you and the tree, you reach out your hand to touch the trunk. "What makes you so special?" you ask quietly, it's more like a rhetorical question as you feel like you have to find out the answer for yourself.

Your hand pulls itself away with a slight sigh, the calmness spreading through your body after a second of contact between you and the tree. You turn your body and get into the same position as yesterday, your back pressed against the trunk while you look at the scenery. The spot that you claimed allows you to stay out of the rain, the branches and twigs catching a couple of droplets before they can get to you. It takes a minute for you to settle down in that spot, but once you do, it's like you're sitting in the perfect spot.

The view you have from this spot is amazing, especially seeing people rushing in their lives while you're sat under a tree that gives a protective vibe. But you're aware that you must be sitting here with a goal, and you have no idea what that goal could be. You cock your head to the side, allowing your eyes to check the little flowers that you find yourself in between like you ruined their little get-together.

Five little daisies proudly standing amongst other big trees and plain green grass, their two simple colours stand out compared to the other naturistic elements around you. It were the kind of flowers you would make a flower crown with when you were still a child and the flowers you could use to determine whether your crush really loved you. Not that you did that many times as you were too realistic, or at least that's what you thought about your years as a child.

A tingling feeling spreads itself starting from your wrist and all the way towards the ends of your fingertips. You break eye-contact with the white-yellow coloured flowers and use your eyes to inspect the palm of your hand. But, you don’t see anything more than just a simple hand quivering to the unexpected intensity of the tingles. Your fingers clench themselves until they’re hidden in your fist, pressuring the tingles to go numb. 

The set of strange events make you close your eyes to ponder, trying to ignore the reality to just silently wonder about them without having to go through the experience once more. Yet, the moment you close your eyes you seem lost in one of those events, one that you’re encountering for the second time. The Cyan-coloured eyes stare into yours eyes, a determined and yet comforting look that make you feel responsible over something you’re not aware of. “Ecru? That’s a fantastic choice, darling. Your world is now colourized ecru” the voice says in a soft tone. The voice seemingly fits the fawn colour that you can imagine when saying ecru. Your mouth opens to speak, but before you can push one word out, the pair of eyes are gone. 

Once again, you're left in the park with your eyes closed and your hands empty just like they were yesterday. Only this time, the world had changed, or perhaps it had before but you were too dumb to realise.

The world is now colourized ecru

「 ꜱɴᴏᴡ : # ꜰꜰꜰᴀꜰᴀ 」

"Your world is colourized what?" Sicheng asks you, making it clear you had to clarify the story for the third time today. His eyes glance over at you like it would make him understand the words a little bit better. You would have sighed if it wasn’t for the fact that you would do the exact same thing if he told you a similar story. You wouldn’t have understood either, perhaps you wouldn’t even bother believing it.

Getting the words on the tip of your tongue again, only takes up a few seconds, you could repeat them whenever you wanted and your head provided you with the same voice as the person that told you.”Your world is now colourized ecru” you repeat again, this time saying the words slower since the language gap could make it harder for him to understand what ecru meant, even though it isn’t language-related as you had to google the colour too. “The voice told me that” you add, explaining more than needed just so that Sicheng could understand and believe your story.

“Colourized ecru, isn’t that like the beige colour?” Sicheng asks as his feet take slower steps just like his mind is processing the entire situation in a slow pace. To you, it is almost too slow, as being headed to the park became something you are weirdly enthusiastic for, or rather than that, you simply long to find yourself sitting underneath that tree. “I thought so too, but apparently it’s not. I saw a pinkish shade in it but Wikipedia said it was greyish-yellow. So I don’t know anymore” you answer his question, leaving your best friend even more confused now that he doesn’t know which colour your world really became.

The rest of the walk to the park is as blank as it was before, with Sicheng asking questions and you giving vague answers because Google wasn’t always as smart as you thought. Eventually, you realise that you would have to find a way to answer your own questions instead of letting Google do it for you. And aside from mental support, you’re sure that Sicheng can’t help you with answers either. 

“This is the tree,” you say as you walk underneath it with Sicheng, allowing him to sit first between the five daisies that he hadn’t even noticed yet. You sit down on the free space next to him, stopping the urge that your eyes get as you don’t want to close them while your best friend is around. “Do you know what kind of tree this is?” Sicheng asks you, his head raising to look at the branches, twigs and the leaves hanging from it. He fails to see the way you shook your head but already expected a no from you, or well, he had never seen your interest laying in the origins of a park tree.

Through his lensless glasses, Sicheng looks at you again. “Perhaps you should visit the library, they must have some books about trees,” he suggests, his head turning unexpectedly when his hand touches one of the five daisies hiding in the grass. Before you’re able to catch up with what happened, he quickly places his hand next to them instead of on top of them. “And flowers” he adds quickly, giving you an innocent smile.

"Did you ever play the loves me, loves me not game with daisies?" Sicheng asks as he motions to the little miracles of nature with his free hand, your eyes immediately go towards the flowers, something you almost instinctively do as you would stare at them each time you came here. “I didn’t, I wouldn’t know who would love me” you answer with a small shrug, still convinced that you never played those silly games during your childhood. The loves me, loves me not game was made up out of lies, a flower would never be able to tell you who you belonged with. “Your soulmate loves you.”

“My soulmate?” you ask as you hear the word soulmate go past Sicheng’s lips. The word isn’t unfamiliar, perhaps it’s a bit too familiar as there is a lot of doubt to the existence of soulmates in the world. Some claim soulmates are just for people who meet each other and symbolically label themselves like that, others say soulmates could meet each other in special circumstances, and there was a group of people that completely deny the existence of the phenomenon. You have no idea which group you belong to, neither do you know what Sicheng thinks about it. Never have you pondered about the possibility of meeting your other half. 

Sicheng hums in response to you, a tiny smile coating his lips as he reaches out to one of the flowers and disconnects it from its long stem. “You just go like this” Sicheng says as he ignores your soft protests against what he was doing, something felt wrong when he plucked the flower from its safe spot. “Loves me, loves me not” he says as he starts to demonstrate, leaving you to watch how he throws away something precious. It makes you feel emotional, with petal after petal falling to the grass after getting plucked from the yellow-coloured disk. Each of those petals seem to represent how close you are to having tears in your eyes. You felt sick with apprehension.

“Loves you not,” Sicheng says whilst the last petal sadly falls onto the green grass, laying scattered next to the other petals that he had plucked away. Just like you predicted seconds ago, tears are burning in the corners of your eyes, threatening to run down your cheeks, but you refuse, you don’t want to be the person to cry over a flower. “That means you’re not my soulmate and I’m not yours,” Sicheng simply says, whatever was left of the flower falling from his fingertips and ending between the few white petals. 

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

The feeling of melancholy continues to follow you everywhere after what had happened. It started as a small pit in your stomach the moment Sicheng first separated the flower from its natural habitat, but as the hours go by the pit only grows bigger and leaves you unable to feel a different emotion.

After Sicheng left you with an apology for possibly fucking up something you desperately needed in your life, you had found yourself grieving over the flower for two complete hours. Those hours go by with tenderly holding the remains between your aching fingertips, and telling yourself you had four flowers left that no one would pluck away from you. Yet, when you left the park, there was the fear that a stranger or child would pluck them for fun. You had been hesitant about leaving, but you couldn't stay with the flowers day and night.

That’s how you end up marching to the local library, following up the at least useful piece of advice Sicheng gave you. You were no longer angry at him, perhaps you even blamed yourself for not making it clear enough how important the flowers were to you, how they seemed to connect to you and the ecru world you found yourself in. Grateful for the suggestion he made earlier: from the suggestion about going to the library, to the suggestion of a so-called phenomenon called soulmates.

You had no idea what time it was when you found yourself in front of the library, neither did the sky really tell you much because you weren't looking up at it. Your eyes were too busy to make sure you didn't bump into any people or objects whilst your thoughts were working overtime. Your steps were quick as the stairs only counted a few of them before you were right in front of the wooden door. Something else you didn't notice were the opening hours hanging on the left, you would have been able to see it was a quarter past closing time when you arrived. Your fingers wrapped around the door handle, trying to pull it down in order to get the door open but the handle merely moved an inch before getting stuck in its position. "Shit"

The spark of hope you had was taken over by the large part of melancholy once again, you didn't even need the opening schedule to know that you probably were standing here because it was closed already. This was one of the reasons you had to make sure before getting hopeful for things, especially now that you were obligated to wait the entire night before you were able to possibly let your thoughts rest. You couldn't help but pull the handle down once more, or attempt to as this time too it had no intention of letting you in.

In the end, there was no other option but to go home for the night and be tortured by your strayed thoughts. The walk home being extra long due to your unnecessary stop at the park to check if the tree and flowers were still there, waiting for your return tomorrow. But perhaps that's not the only thing waiting for you, perhaps a soulmate is waiting somewhere as well. Waiting for you.

「 ʜᴏɴᴇʏᴅᴇᴡ : # ꜰ0ꜰꜰꜰ0 」 

For the third day in a row, you're already waiting in front of the library ten minutes before the building opens its doors. For the third day in a row, you manage to find a spark of hope somewhere inside of your body that tells you that today is the day that you will find something. But finding the right books is harder than expected: somehow writers don't really dive deeper into the wondrous world of soulmates and books about trees take ages to thumb through just to get to the right illustration of the tree. It's hard to find what you're looking for, especially as you have no idea what you're actually looking for.

But today you're determined to find anything the book is willing you tell you. You hope having a picture of the tree would make it easier to receive information, even if you have no idea if any of the people around are skilled in giving you the answer to which kind of tree it was: the books are supposed to give you the answers but how are you going to recognise your tree between many others? Something else that could help you were the daisies, you know the name but never imagined there to be a meaning behind them until you thought back about Sicheng sadly removing one from the world.

You’re shaken out of your thoughts when the door is unlocked and soon opened for the public, even though right now no one but you stood in the invisible queue. The feeling of victory is quick to spread through your body the moment you step inside, the high shelves don’t make you feel small, if anything, they give you more motivation.

“Good morning,” A voice speaks up without you realising it, you unfortunately ignore it because you’re too focused on finding the books you need for your progress. If you had heard it, you would have been able to tell how oddly familiar the voice was, and you could have linked it to the weird experience you had in the park. It was a missed chance, but more chances would come in the near future.

Your footsteps take you up the stairs where you had been going to for three days now, it became a part of your routine. Nature-related books were usually found upstairs as not many people were interested in the miracles of life these days. You admit that before, you were one of the people that took nature by granted, something that changed drastically in a short period of time. 

You sit at the empty desk near the corner, a popular space you know from experience, but as no one is there, it’s yours for the rest of the day. You’re quick to turn on the computer in order to check out the catalogue, a catalogue of which the books don’t change but each day you scroll past the same ones in hopes that a new one gets added. Your fingers hesitate over the keyboard, hitting a letter befoe deleting it again as you remember searching for the word yesterday. “Can I help you?”

You look away from the computer screen when you hear the voice, a fake, friendly smile appearing on your lips as you get ready to give a fabricated response. “Not really I don’t know what I’m looking for but I don’t think you can help me,” you tell the person in front of you, giving her only a brief glance which makes you seem uninterested. “Perhaps I can help you, you can tell me what you’re looking for and I will help you with finding the right books” she offers you. Out of annoyance, you hand the person the little, coloured post-it note with the keywords on.

“Tree, daisies, and soulmates” The voice reads the keywords on your paper out loud, her words flow out like she’s familiar with them. Your handwriting must be near enough to read it without trouble. “Yes,” you mumble in response, already knowing the words by head so there was no need for anyone else to say the words like the woman just did. Okay, perhaps it had been a rude thought of you and it was uncalled for, but you’re convinced that no one is able to help you and you weren’t willing to waste time on someone who wanted to try. “What kind of tree are you looking for?” she asks you but before you can answer, she interrupts you again “do you have a picture or a name?”

You hastily fish your phone out of the pocket of your pants, after unlocking it going straight to the gallery to find the set of pictures that you made yesterday. All of the pictures look overly similar, but having multiple pictures gives you more proof. “Ah, I think I know what tree it is” she says when she gets a glance of your phone, or rather, the picture of the tree. “This is the Quercus dentata, or daimyo oak if I’m correct. I can find some books about this tree for you?” she inquires after blowing you over with the difficult name and her cleverness to recognise the tree immediately. She hands you the note back even though you immediately discard it beside the computer keyboard.

“I don’t know, I don’t know what I need” you admit to her, slowly turning in your chair to properly tell what was going on. The last thing you want is spilling the story to anyone gullible and willing to listen, but there is a sense of trust between the two of you. Indeed, you don’t know what you need and one of the reasons that you’re here is to find out what you need and why you need it. “You don’t know what you need?” She asks you, but still smiles as she says the words, she seems like she knows more and she’s about to share it with you. You shake your head, an almost desperate gesture as you want help even from a librarian who perhaps had no idea how to help you. “Seeing the keywords on your note, I would say you’re here lurking for information about something specific that overcame you. And you must be looking for an explanation because the tree, the flowers, and the soulmate part all seem to blend together?”

Having someone next to you, saying the words from a perspective that was unfamiliar to you, it was like one of your millions of questions just got an answer. The answer was so easy, perhaps because the question was a simple one too. “Is that true?” she decided to ask because the look in your eyes revealed how surprised you were by the words. You slowly look up at her face, promptly staring into the pair of bright-coloured eyes. The unnatural cyan-colour rings a bell in your mind, and it only takes a second to remember the times you had seen the eyes before. “Y-yes, I think so” you respond in a softer tone, barely getting any words out of your mouth because of the shock that numbs your ability to speak or think. 

The elderly woman can only nod at your words, something you don’t see as you are too busy staring at everything but her face. Right now, you’re looking at the name tag pinned to her shirt. It shouldn’t be a surprise to see her name, but yet, “Cyan” is typed down in a Verdana-lookalike on the tag. The numb feeling completely takes away your ability to speak, or you’re just speechless at this point. A couple of days ago there was nothing, then the tree came in your life, and now you feel as if you’re close to figuring out the ecru world you live in. Yet, you don’t have half of it figured out, barely a quarter. 

"So, can you help me?” You ask out loud, your posture straightening more unknowingly. You expect a no but still hope for a yes, and you can’t tell beforehand which one of the two it’s going to be. Cyan -if that’s what her name really is- seems to hesitate, her eyes simply staring at you with an emotion that you can’t name. “I’m not sure, I already helped you to realise what you’re looking for” your shoulders immediately slump back against the wooden chair, a sigh slipping from your lips as you try to admit this was exactly what you expected even when it wasn’t.

You nod sadly as your eyes leave her to focus on the computer screen again, this time you know what to type in the search bar but you feel too unmotivated to make it through on your own. “Thank you anyway” you say soft as you give her one last glance, your eyes almost begging for her to stay so that she would give you more information. You’re convinced that this Cyan, is the same Cyan that brought you in this strange ecru-coloured world. It’s something you can’t accuse her of, but deep inside you know that you’re right about them being the same person: some people that you come across in your dreams, are real people, just like Cyan.

"You're welcome, don't let it get plucked away from you, you will find out"

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Exactly fifty-nine minutes before closing time, you still find yourself in the same spot in front of the computer, though this time, the screen is pure black and your eyes are scanning every few words in the book laying on the dark table. 

The work that you’re doing now isn’t ever going to meet up with any work you used to do for school, this took a lot more energy but at the same time, you feel more useful and smarter than the times you would make a paper about concentration because it was easy to copy from others. When the teacher back then said that making the paper had seemed to help you a lot with your skills, you were sure that you were good at faking such things. But if there was a teacher to evaluate you now, you wouldn’t even have to fake anything.

Thanks to Cyan you got onto the right path, or at least you are trying to convince yourself that you are walking on the right path. The pieces of evidence next to you give you a good feeling, it seems like literature is more important than you used to believe, especially the pages where little post-its are pasted between to look back on. However, you don’t seem to realise there is no more time to look back on any of those things, you had been so caught up in the available literature that you forgot about the standard needs of a human or the opening hours of the library.

You flip the page of the book as quick as you can once you read the last few words of the sentence, another soft sigh leaves your lips as you realise this book about daisies isn’t going to get you far. Perhaps there was a limit to the amount of information people could receive in a day, but at this point, you’re convinced that you’re way past that limit. Your eyes meet with a new chapter, the boldly-typed title staring at you but you’re too busy translating the words from their original language into English, even if the English words are written a dozen times over the upcoming paragraphs. 

effeuiller la marguerite

Quietly and almost inaudible, you translate the words for yourself. When you say them in French, it doesn’t ring a bell despite the little knowledge you have of the language. When you repeat the same words in English, you instantly think back about the day you and Sicheng spent in the park. The way he used one of the precious daisies to demonstrate how you were supposed to play the simple, but childish game of “loves me, loves me not.” You could still taste some bitterness of the moment on the tip of your tongue, a consequence of Sicheng unintentionally ruining the flower. 

The first paragraph provides you with a definition of the game, something perhaps not useful even though school always taught you the definition before anything deeper. Even if the context was the more important part, you still needed some framework to understand.

“She loves me, she loves me not or he loves me, he loves me not is a game of French origin, in which one person seeks to determine whether the object of affection returns that affection.” The words are literal, perhaps a bit formal but not in a university-level. It gives you the hint that you are the person looking for an object of affection in this ecru world. It is you, you that has to search for the other person, for a he, she or them that would possibly love you, or not.

“How does it work really?” you ask yourself silently as you read past some French paragraph that you don’t feel attracted by, it seems like the next paragraph nicely explains how you’re supposed to play. It’s quite silly to think of it, you exactly know how to play the game, but don’t believe yourself and go for an unscientific instruction in a book about daisies. “A person playing the game alternately speaks the phrases "He loves me," and "He loves me not," while picking one petal off an ox-eye daisy for each phrase. The phrase they speak on picking off the last petal supposedly represents the truth between the object of their affection loving them or not. The player typically is motivated by attraction to the person they are speaking of while reciting the phrases. They may seek to reaffirm a pre-existing belief, or act out of whimsy" you read in a whisper-tone, sometimes stumbling over your own words because of the stiff and formal use of words. However, the moment you look back at the words, they don’t seem as formal and stuff anymore, they make sense in some way.

The chapter is no longer than two pages long, yet those two pages had managed to provide you with a lot more information than other chapters did. Added to your story were now the flowers that fit right in the framework Cyan made for you, it’s like being one step closer to knowing what you’re supposed to do. A sad hunch overcomes you as you finish the chapter: there are only four daisies left, four daisies that you can’t recklessly use to play the game. You need to find the matching object of affection.

Your hand pulls back the thick side of the book against the other to close it, resting it on top of the other books that you had been browsing through today. For a second, you allow your eyes to close as they’re exhausted from the endless focus, yet it didn’t mean you were going to give up. On a different pile were two books left: one of them is filled with more information about trees, the other is a magazine that has an article about soulmates. Unfortunately, that article is the only copy that has the words “soulmates” in them, meaning that no other existing source was available to you.

“Sorry to bother you, but it’s closing time. And I think you really need some rest, love” Cyan who had helped you so dearly before was now about to ruin part of the progress you made, or she was trying to help you by giving you an opportunity to go home and rest. Though, you opt it’s the first option as you feel too far into it to stop. Perhaps Cyan wasn’t aware yet, but she would find out soon that you came here on a daily basis ever since three days ago. “Can’t I stay for a little while longer, just until you closed up. I need to read some more” you say in a soft tone as you motion towards the two sources that still have to get scanned by your inexperienced eyes and mind.

Cyan takes the magazine from the pile, reading the word “soulmates” on the cover and immediately she knows which magazine it is. It’s one that most beginners want to read, but at the same time, it’s the most useless piece of literature in the entire library. Yet, it seems like you’re willing to read the public source as they don’t have any others. “You can come back tomorrow, can’t you?” she asks simply, dropping the magazine back onto the pile before looking at you to scan your facial expression. The emotion displayed on your face is mostly desperation: it makes Cyan want to give in, but the tiredness in your eyes is what holds Cyan back from telling you to stay until she closed up. It wasn’t like the article was helpful and you would regret staying longer just to read it. 

"Come with me"

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Cyan paves the way to a place you had never witnessed in the few years of regularly visiting the library - not that you visit overly often, or at least not before the entire ecru-world circumstance - , but you are positive that this hall was one of the places you had never walked through.

Walking there takes long enough, long enough to forget that you left most of your stuff on the desk in the corner. A vague idea tells you that you’re going underground: mostly because you had been taking many steps down rather than up, and also because of the musty smell that is sticking onto the walls surrounding you. Cellars always look old but you’re willing to have a debate over this cellar being older than a few centuries. 

You want to ask Cyan how long there was left and how many more steps in the staircase, you have no idea where you’re headed and the eerie feeling seems to double itself with each step further. You stop yourself from asking though: you don’t consider yourself as a six-year-old who continuously asks his parents when the car ride is finally over. You purse your lips as you hold the question even if that means you have to breathe through your nose.

“We’re here” Cyan announces after coming to a halt in front of a large iron door. The door is large enough to let a giant pass if it’s not for the obvious fact that it’s closed. Your own steps stop as well, aligning perfectly next to Cyan’s. From up close, the door is heavily decorated by different elegant shapes. Yet, there’s no keyhole that indicates the requirement of the longitudinal grooves. The door is a masterpiece, it seems like it belongs in a museum more than as an actual door underground. “Won’t you open it?” you ask Cyan quietly, only tearing your eyes from the door to see when Cyan would open the door. 

Cyan’s first response is to shake her head as a sign that she’s not going to open the door for you, in response to that, you let out a huff of annoyance and disappointment. How are you supposed to get in when the librarian doesn’t even want to open the goddamn door for you, it’s not like you know a secret way through. “You have to open it, darling,” Cyan says when she notices that you’re not amused, by far, you look irritated. 

“How am I supposed to do that?!” You ask loudly, drawing a long sigh from your mouth as it was another feature that you weren’t prepared for. You set another step closer to the door, not looking back at Cyan because you don’t care if she follows you or not. You’re not a magician like your friend Kun is, you’re clumsy and still didn’t figure out how to do the magic trick with the glasses that he always shows you. “Hocus pocus!” Leaves your lips before you can stop it from happening, whether it is for the laughs or for the deadly-serious expression on your lips, it doesn’t matter as the door doesn’t bother to react.

The string of magic spells leaves your lips, at once, calling out each one you know and unmagically cast them onto the iron door. Yet, none of them have the intention to pull the handle down and open the door for you. Cyan can’t be any more amused, but she is aware that you would still be here for hours if she leaves you to cast these spells. “Opening the door is like opening a new world for yourself,” Cyan tells you in a quiet voice, just loud enough to overpower your voice that casts the last spell you know. The hint is amateur level, even you find the answer within a minute. 

You swallow away the bundle of nerves that want to spread in your stomach. What you are about to say can, either way, be foolery or the start of something unidentified. Just like Cyan mentioned, opening the door is like opening a new world, and you are ready to be a part of it. 

"Ecru"

「 ᴀᴢᴜʀᴇ  : # ꜰ0ꜰꜰꜰꜰ 」

When you wake up from accidentally falling asleep with your head buried between a formal-worded book, you hear the large doors closing themselves slowly, and you guess you must have missed the moment they opened due to your tiredness. The non-rhythmic footsteps are unrecognisable but there must be only one person that has unlimited access to this place, Cyan. Your guess is confirmed when you hear her voice telling you: "you look tired.”

“I’ve been looking through these books for nearly three hours” you answer with a deep sigh leaving your lips, your fingertip tiredly points to the large pile of books of which you only managed to read one in those three long hours. But that one book is enough to make it seem like you read everything in this entire underground library. 

Cyan let out a quiet hum at your words, stepping closer to you with the same unstable sound of her footsteps on the floor. “That’s why I decided to get some coffee for you, you slept for over an hour,” she says in a sweet tone as the cup of coffee is delivered to the moon-shaped table you sit at. A small smile coats your lips thanks to Cyan’s sweet gesture, and you know your non-verbal message has been delivered when she smiles back at you. Every now and then she would deliver coffee to you, you didn’t even ask for it, she would disappear at random times and return with a cup of coffee for you. Your inner coffee addict was happy with that.

"Did you find out anything new?” Cyan asks as she has her eyes on you and one hand placed on the pile of books like she’s trying to suck the magic out of them. That thought is one you dismiss soon, you can expect a lot but that beats all of the other ridiculous thoughts you had. You reluctantly shake your head in response, hesitating because you had found many amazing things but you doubted if they were useful. “I guess so, but at the same time, I don’t think so. I don’t understand any of the words in the book” you admit, your eyes still reading over some of the words.

The book gets pulled from under your elbows by Cyan who takes it between her two hands as she begins to read at the point where you left off before falling asleep. “You’re reading the wrong book. I told you to follow your heart and choose a book based on that, not on an interesting title” she immediately scolds you for choosing what you did, she read less than a sentence but it’s enough for her to know that this book isn’t going to give you the answers you need.

"I don’t know how to, it’s harder than you think” you complain with a deep sigh, putting the cup of coffee down on the porcelain saucer before looking up at the elder librarian. “How am I supposed to know what my heart wants?” you ask, the question sounding both genuine but also mocking. You don’t believe in letting your heart decide which book to take, if it was true, you would be reading an easy and understandable book that wasn’t part of this underground library’s catalogue. 

Cyan closes the book and can’t help but sigh just like you did a second ago, she sounds disappointed even if she doesn’t use any words to confirm the feeling. It’s not an uncommon thing for people to choose the wrong book, everyone at least does so one time, especially when they judge by the cover. But after years of sneakily doing this, Cyan had a steady set of expectations from humanity, especially those looking for a soulmate. 

“y/n. Think about your soulmate, close your eyes and let your soulmate pick the book for you. Listen to your heart, it’s commissioned by your soulmate” Cyan says in an overly sweet and soft tone, dropping the thick book on top of the others as a sign all of them were useless in your story. You admire her for the way she says the words because you wish it’s as easy as it sounds, but, you hate the words because it’s not as easy as that. How is your soulmate going to recommend you a book if he doesn’t even know about your existence? 

Your phone vibrates steadily next to the pile of useless books, even though the moon-shaped table is in front of you, you huff because you are too lazy to lean forward and take the device in your hands. For an unknown reason, you flag your phone as an unnecessary accessory down here: there is no WiFi and you don’t expect anything from the phone reception. But clearly, your phones proves you wrong when it vibrates a second time. 

You lean forward and pick up the phone from the book-filled desk, finally giving it some screentime and giving yourself some ‘me-time’ as you would always name it. The lockscreen gives away the time, but you only have eyes for the notification of your best friend Sicheng. You feel bothered that he messages you, it wouldn’t be bothering if you weren’t in this almost-enchanting library.

Sicheng [ 2 : 35 pm ] : I found some more daisies around, plucked them and they're in front of your door

Sicheng [2 : 35 pm ] : sorry for wasting one the other day, I didn't know they would mean so much to you ):)

You can't help but smile soft, a certain feeling of warmth spreading through your tiniest veins and dropping once they reach your heart. It's obvious that Sicheng feels sorry for what he did to the daisy, and he must think that you’re not answering the door because of that.

It is a fact that you hadn’t been speaking to him since the day in the park, not because you were angry -as you weren’t -, but because you isolated yourself in the library after he advised you to. Sicheng was someone you couldn’t be angry at, he was soft but also because he had given you a little push onto an unknown path. You were still walking on the path he pushed you on, however, he isn’t walking on that same path and you feel bad about it. 

“Will you not write a message back to him, darling?” Cyan asks you as she notices the way you can only stare at the messages you received, and your fingers are resting on the edges of the screen rather than the keyboard that is waiting for you to send a message back. Your eyes stay on the screen, they never break eye-contact from the messages, not even when Cyan asks your attention by questioning you. “He doesn’t know I’m here. I think he thinks I’m angry because he took one of the daisies and showed me how to play the game” you explain to Cyan. She can see your facial expression growing bluer as you think about it. 

“But you’re not angry. So make him bloom again, his smile is precious to the world” Cyan says before you can continue telling the story with even more details, she is aware of the things that happen but still listens when you tell her the story about the little daisy. 

y/n [ 2 : 39 pm ] : just as much as you mean to me, you're a precious bean x

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Apparently, and without warning, you're not the only soulmate-searching human in the world. The first time you realise it's simply because Cyan decides to tell you one minute before a girl that's also looking for her soulmate walks in, the time after you notice it's before the iron-grated door opens itself after receiving the name of a chosen colour. You're never facing the door but you're still able to hear how many different voices there are and how many times the door opened itself.

Three free moon-shaped tables are moving away from the centre of the library, each one getting closer to one of the bookshelves but simply so that everyone has bits of privacy in the process of finding their soulmate. Your table was right in front of a bookshelf already: probably because Cyan thought it was needed for a beginner to receive lots of written knowledge.

Among the variety of people around in the underground library, no one looks familiar to you. You don't meet eyes with them but you can put the blame on the fact that their noses are buried between antiquated books. Even those who are already familiar with one another, don't waste more time than the few seconds a small greeting takes up, simply because they're too disciplined. It makes you feel awkward, as you're too new to step up and introduce yourself to the hardworking set of people.

Silence fills the room to the brim, leaving only the furniture to take up the rest of the space. The only sound you hear is quiet breathing and when a slightly moist fingertip tries to turn the page of one of the books. Whilst everyone is busy with the literate, you are not. The books on your table are shut, still labelled as useless ever since Cyan said that they had no value in your story. But you can't bring yourself to figure out which one your heart wants, or which one your soulmate would recommend to you. Cyan probably was right, but that doesn't tell you how you should find the answer to the question, nor how to find the right book.

You stand up from the decorative stool, trying not to make any noises which you succeed in as you can easily slip off the piece of furniture. You let go of a breath that you had been holding in but it's even quieter than your footsteps as they approach the nearest bookshelf. It's only a few steps before your feet come to a halt in front of it and your eyes take over to complete the next task.

Your eyes stare at all of the books that you find yourself in front of, it's a lot to take in with all of the different colours and letters coming to you at once. Unknown writers and complicated book titles, but as Cyan said, you try not to judge the book by who wrote it or how interesting the title sounds. Society just got you adapted to thinking difficult was always the right choice when it came to literature.

It's like you're standing at an intersection of choices, but there are more than four choices, and perhaps there's only one right option amongst the hundreds of possibilities. Fortunately for you, you can't see how insecure your back looks from this angle: others see the way your shoulders carry a responsibility but they also remember how they had been at the exact same spot not long ago.

"You don't know which book to take?" A voice asks you, the male voice making you spin on your heels immediately just to politely face whoever was speaking to you. The man in front of you has a sweet smile on his lips, you immediately notice that once you look up to his face. The sweet smile tries to indicate that he's being friendly but also gives away that he's happy. You can't help but wonder if he's close to finding his soulmate.

You sigh softly, a monologue that you have been participating in a lot more these past days. Sometimes you sigh because you're frustrated by this endless hunt for answers, other times it's because you feel like you should give up and move on, and other times you do it because you just don't know. The thing you don't know is also hidden behind something you don't know, even though that doesn't really make sense to you. "No, I can't seem to figure out which book is mine" you answer honestly.

"That's totally fine, we all started at this point,"  He tells you, never stopping the smile from hovering over his lips. You realise that maybe out of experience, he's willing to help you more than Cyan is, or at least his advice could help you more than Cyan's vague instructions. "You indeed have to let your soulmate pick the book for you, but there's a catch to it all. The things you think you've researched outside of this library are the things you have to research here again. You're not looking for what a soulmate is, but who your soulmate is."

You're obligated to admit, the words make you think more clearly than Cyan's do. Cyan's words leave you to sleepless nights of wondering what they mean, the words of this man make you think twice and you already know what’s expected of you. Specifically, the last bit of words are what stick to your body and follow you behind even now that you're still standing in front of him.

You're not looking for what a soulmate is, but who your soulmate is.

"There's no right or wrong definition to soulmates, everyone describes it differently. But you have to focus on the things you experienced and find the meaning behind them, after that you can connect them to your special person" He says, the explanation seems never-ending but you willingly accept every single word that leaves his lips right now. The scowl from earlier turns into a grateful smile, you are genuine about the gesture as you feel helped by what he offered you. "Thank you…" you say to him, hesitating to end your sentence as you wish you are able to say the name, but you can't say things you don't know of.

He lets out a tiny laugh as he realises he had been stupid enough to help you before asking whether you need it, and without politely introducing himself, but he's used to helping everyone here now that he's so close to meeting his soulmate. "I'm Johnny, the one who usually helps others around here" He introduces himself, clearly it's not the first time that he does this but you had already figured that out the moment he gave you some useful advice. "I'm y/n, I guess I'm new here. Almost like a high school student on the first day of the first year."

Johnny can't help but let out a soft laugh at the latter part of your introduction, simply because he said something along the lines of that back when he was the youngest of the group here. In a matter of months or even weeks, that position drastically changed. "Everyone is like that at the start, but some new people will join sooner or later. Before you know it, you will be helping them as I helped you."

The words - just like before - stick onto your brain, luckily not onto your heart like his other set of words did. You break the eye-contact with him to instead stare at the many books waiting on the shelves, hoping that magically your soulmate would make one of them fall in the palm of your hand. But it's not as simple as that: your soulmate won't connect the dots for you, it's you who has to do that and your soulmate might create a shape out of it.

With a soft sigh, your eyes flutter themselves shut to get into a moment of peace. It's the scenery of the park that always does the trick for you: it's calming despite knowing there is a life-altering meaning behind it. The tree engulfs you between its branches, and you're safe under the oak with the daisies by your side. The daisies where the book showed you a ritual named "effeuiller la marguerite" of. But it's the tree that keeps you from harm, that invites you to come back over and over again.

It takes a few seconds to remember the scientific classification Cyan gave you, as she probably read it in the same book that you read on that day. Nonetheless, the Quercus dentata unconsciously became a part of the baseline information of which you thought you had it organised. But Johnny was right: you had to focus on things you experienced.

The daimyo oak that engulfs you in its branches seems to want to tell you something, it's an enchanting moment even though it's only a daydream that you find yourself getting lost in. The information that it gives you is purely its existence, yet it's linked to the existence of your soulmate too.

You tilt your head as you have the impression that someone is walking up to you with slow steps, yet it's like that because your heart tells you to live in the moment. The footsteps don't look like Cyan's unstable pace of steps, and on top of that, it's more like a manly figure which you notice by his legs and shoes. It's vague but the individual details will together give you a clear view, layer per layer.

Despite the fact that you're aware it's not Cyan walking up to you, you can't imagine someone else doing so and you have no other option but already think of the outstanding features that strike the starring role in your daydreams. You start to get twitchy with each step the person takes closer to you: it's an eerie feeling that you don't know what to think of. It's a daydream that you're living in, but it all seems a bit too real to be just a dream during the early hours of the evening.

In your daydream, you close your eyes, in hopes that when you open them, you won't be able to see anything but the peaceful scenery around you. Yet, luck isn't always by your side and for once, that's a good thing. You open your eyes and immediately met up with a pair of soft-sentimental-looking eyes. They're brown, in a shade that could be defined by the world's most cherished colour of brown.

"You coloured my heart ecru"

「 ɢʜᴏꜱᴛᴡʜɪᴛᴇ # ꜰ8ꜰ8ꜰꜰ 」

Blank-faced, you look up from the syllables that form a term together, your eyes are slow to react to the sound that triggers your other senses easily. The iron door creaks open as slow as your eyes focus on it, but you're quick to give up the hope that you're going to be the only one in the library tonight. Cyan's voice is quiet but still gets louder with every step she takes inside the library, symbolically taking the young man under her protective wings as he walks into the library after her.

The thick book closes as your elbow moves from between the two separated parts, but it goes unnoticed as your eyes are drawn to Cyan's new -victim- soulmate. A rare warmth spreads around the room and circles him like it's his aura presenting him, he's the young lad your existence softens for.

"I assume this is the library you've been looking for" Cyan announces to the stranger as she smiles at his sudden humbleness. His hands fold together politely as his feet are tightly pressed together to only take up one tile out of the hundreds that embrace him. "A little disclaimer before the library overwhelms you with useless information: pluck the book your heart chooses for you, it's commissioned by your soulmate."

You can see the expression change on his face, there's a universal set of facial expressions of emotion, and surprise seems to be one of the six universal possibilities right now. He doesn't show any of the critical signals aside from the arch that his eyebrows form into. "How do they tell me which book?" He asks once the surprise makes space for an emotion that you can't read so well.

"It just happens, Jungwoo. It might take some time but they will naturally come to you"

With the useless piece of advice, Cyan decides she has given him enough to leave him to his task. She walks away from the new test-subject and moves to a set of books that the others left behind a few hours ago. You can still recognise the cover of the book that Johnny had been reading earlier, and the book Ley read about life after meeting your soulmate. The two of them were awfully close to meeting their soulmates, with Johnny already knowing what the name of his soulmate was. Unlike you: you only possessed of the birth date of your soulmate.

When Cyan's footsteps are the only ones you can hear, your head slightly turns to the side to see around the room and catch the stranger standing on the same tile as before. He seems glued to the tile, the tips of his Nike-branded shoes rub over one another in an attempt to soothe himself, but it only shows how unfamiliar he is with the situation. You can't blame him, you had been like that too not long ago.

"You should sit if you want to" you break the uncomfortable, nearly timed, sound of Cyan's footsteps against the floor. The sound moves to a layer in the background as your voice is now the centre of attention combined with the presence of the young man.

You don't expect an answer to your words as it was a mere offer. But the silence makes your voice fade out instantaneously. One layer less, another chance for silence to fill the room like it did when you were sitting here alone. The stranger can only nod in response, clearly feeling shy when his feet shuffle to the moon-shaped table that is diagonal of yours. He quietly lowers his body and takes a seat on the low stool.

Unfortunately for the stranger, you don't have a lot of time to make him feel at ease in the library. It's self-discipline, something you badly need when you're isolated in this place for almost ten hours and that six days a week. There's more than enough work to do, and much like exams, distractions only cause more harm than help.

Your book is still closed on your desk, a result of getting distraught by Cyan and the stranger bursting into the library not long ago. Soon you notice what happened to your book and let out a tiny curse to yourself, your hands working quickly to open the book again. It's a hard task to find the exact page you left off at: any page between the numbers two hundred nineteen and six hundred eighty would be the one you read last. You know you're to blame for this, not Cyan, not the newbie. More discipline wouldn't be a bad idea.

Your fingertips tumble over each page hastily, starting at page two hundred nineteen to continue browsing over every page that follows after that. If you see the word you read last, you know which page it is, but to do that, you still have to turn each page until your eyes encounter the word. Now that you think of it, you don't even remember which word it was, but hope to retrieve it soon.

On the other side of the library, there are ten fingertips that aren't actively browsing from page to page in a book. Rather than browsing in a book, they're tapping onto the moon-shaped table continuously. It's a composition of instrumentless and voiceless music, a song you never heard, but you don't prefer having to hear it twice.

"I'm sorry but can you stop? I'm trying to focus" you announce in a questioning way, not losing the politeness in your voice as it almost sounds like it's only an option for him to quit. Luckily, he does as you expect of him, causing his fingers to tremble from the sudden lack of stress-relief. "Sorry," he says in a soft tone, sending an apologetic smile your way but the innocence in his voice already causes you to forgive him. "I guess I was trying to call out to my soulmate or something," he says, not holding back the snippet of laughter that nervously bubbles from his lips.

You don't know why your lips curve up into a smile at his lame joke, perhaps because it's amusing to see someone being nervous about being here. Now you now why Cyan works in this library, she can laugh at people's stupidity on a daily basis. You still remember how entertained she was when you said numerous spells to the door when you only had to say the colour you picked out to open the door.

"It's okay" you say back to him and smile, but you notice from the look on his face that he's filled to the brim with nerves. "You must be nervous" you suggest, giving him the opportunity to open up if that's what he needs right now. You, like no one else, are aware of the unfavourable feelings that the soulmate context brings along. After days, you still don't have a label to paste on the feelings from back then, simply because you still don't know what to feel now either. "I am. One of my friends already met his soulmate, and my parents are soulmates too. They suggested for me to visit this place as they said not everyone can find their soulmate randomly" he explains even if he doesn't state the reason why he's so nervous. Perhaps the pressure is the reason: pressured to find his special person because his friend did and his parents obviously did too.

You nod at his explanation, making sure he knows that you're listening, but you don't interrupt as you want to hear how he feels. His story reminds you of Sicheng who made you believe even more than you perhaps did before. Whether you were a believer or not, is something you don't remember because you simply didn't think about it that often. Perhaps you were a believer, or one of the more sceptical people, or you could have been a non-believer. Whatever you were, it didn't matter anymore, you are a believer now.

"My name is Jungwoo by the way," He says before you can respond to his explanation, he probably saw your facial expression as you were trying to form a correct answer and also didn't feel like telling you an uninteresting story of how he found out someone was his soulmate. To say it easily, the subject changed.

"I'm y/n"

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

It's twenty-five to eleven when you take the small steps to reach the street again, spinning on your heel to see Jungwoo sliding down the railing that separates the stairs evenly.

The sight makes you clasp your hand over your mouth in an attempt to silence the laugh that threatens to leave your lips. But only after you see Jungwoo losing his balance unexpectedly which causes his little playful moment to come to an end a little too soon. His feet stumble over the last two steps of the stairs before his body bumps against yours with full speed.

Not by speed, but by force, your body is dragged backwards and you almost hit the floor with a shocked Jungwoo in your arms. But before that happens, his fast reflexes are able to catch himself and you before the unfortunate event takes place. Yet, it doesn't stop the two pairs of feet from trying to find balance on the evenly divided ground.

"I'm sorry" Jungwoo immediately apologises as he makes sure your two feet can find balance without his arms holding you up, but the mere distance between your bodies causes his own feet to be unstable. It's a feeling he needs to shake off, his soulmate is somewhere waiting for him, and your soulmate must be waiting for you somewhere as well. "I was just trying to make you laugh, not fall"

"But I didn't fall, and I had a good laugh. Trust me, I had more fun in those seconds than in the past days" you admit easily to Jungwoo, it's the downside of being isolated in an underground library, but hopefully not a future consequence of looking for your soulmate. "Ah" is the only thing that slips past Jungwoo's lips at your response, it leaves both of you in a communal cloud of wondering what to say to not make it any more uneasy.

You simultaneously look into the same direction when a flower-shaped shadow seems to dwindle down from a large tree. "Did you see that?" You ask as confusion spreads over your face, your eyes torn between looking at Jungwoo or the shadow that slowly disappears once it hits the ground. The soft landing must have taken the silhouette to blend their shades into one.

"Sorry?" Jungwoo asks as he looks at you again, his head tilted to the left as he tries to find the reason behind your confusion. The beanie that refrains his hair from moving too much doesn't prevent his bangs from moving in the same direction as his head.

The reaction leaves you speechless and stumbling over your own words before you even say them, "the flower. A daisy just fell from that tree," you say as you point upwards to the large creation of nature. Jungwoo's eyes can't help but follow your fingers up to the leaves of the tree, he can't see the colour of them in the darkness, but daisies are absent in the almost-chromatic view.

"I don't see anything" he responds to your words as he tries to make his eyes work harder, but no matter how much he squints, the enlarged view shows a total lack of flowers in the tree, especially daisies.

Tiredness is clearly ruling a position as CEO while you're only a personal assistant for the feeling. "I'm tired, I bet it was something else or my eyes are just clowning around" you mumble in disappointment when you realise Jungwoo is right. When you look at the tree again, you don't see any daisies, and you become aware that daisies don't commonly fall from trees that aren't specific daisy trees.

"Sounds like you should go home" Jungwoo mumbles to you, letting a soft smile coat his lips and you're sure your clumsiness has been forgotten unless he's planning on teasing you with it for the upcoming time. It's something you see him capable of as earlier, he had a good laugh about a writer's odd name. But the soft smile that displays on his lips makes you trust him not to tease too much.

"I think I will" you confirm Jungwoo's suggestion, trying to give him a similar soft-looking smile in return, but you're too tired to control the muscles that make the gesture possible. Like a stereotypical teenager from a sappy romance, Jungwoo hides his large hands in his jeans pockets. "Will I see you tomorrow?"

Your response is a soft hum before you confirm it with your words. "I'm here every day, most of the day. So expect to see me a lot" you answer his question.

"I'll look forward to it" Jungwoo quickly tells you, the genuine tone in his voice refraining you from walking away without saying goodbye.

An hour later and you find yourself tucked in a thin sheet that is supposed to keep your body heat at a stable temperature for the rest of the night. Though, it's not the sheet that keeps your body at a pleasant temperature, but rather the little train of comforting thoughts that rides around in your mind.

From the little moments of laughter you shared with Jungwoo, to the sweet brown eyes of your soulmate that you continuously gaze into whenever you close your own.

It makes you feel warm inside

Your eyes - as they usually are when you're in bed - are closed as you want to go over all of the little big things of today. Yet, by now, you should know that it's a task you won't be able to fulfill.

While the colour is sometimes considered dull, the brown colour of his eyes seem to create other feelings. Feelings of warmth and wholesomeness as you gaze into them. The green palette of the park surrounds the two of you and you can feel the trunk of the Quercus dentata against your back.

"Don't pluck me daisies. Just make me be your flower"

「 ᴡʜɪᴛᴇꜱᴍᴏᴋᴇ # ꜰ5ꜰ5ꜰ5 」

"I don't understand what else I have to find out, Cyan" you breathe out as you drop the heavy-weighted book on top of some others that you had been scanning through for the past four and a half hours. Another two hundred seventy minutes wasted, and yes, wasted was the right word to use for all the time you spent in the library so far.

Cyan easily notices the high level of pressure, she already noticed when you first made your entrance of the day. "What do you mean by that?" She asks you as she tries to lift her body to sit on the side of the moon-shaped table but eventually just leans against it before accidents happen. "I already found out I have to play a game with the daisies, and my soulmate's birthday is February nineteen. What else do I have to find out?"

The way you say your words makes it easy for Cyan to see through them and bump into a big lump of exhaustion. It's a price many people pay but at the same time no one asked them to pay the fee, it's something people do to themselves because they're so desperate to claim someone to be theirs. You're no different from anyone when it comes to that, no one is any different. At least humans have one thing in common even though it doesn't make them less unique.

"Potentially, you could look for your soulmate"

A scowl coats your entire facial expression, your muscles doing work without you having to ask about it. You open your mouth to speak up but silence yourself from the string of curses and confusion that blend together to a feeling called bitterness.

"What?" You ask as you wish to get rid of your confusion, you swallow the curses you want to throw at her. You shouldn't curse at her, seeing that aside from her vague way of phrasing things, she's a blessing. The bitter feeling on the tip of your tongue is something you want to out but just like tastebuds, they stay in their place for you to enjoy the lingering bitterness a bit more. "You mean I've been here 24/7 for nothing?" you ask her, quick to hold her back because you receive a vague answer to your surprised exclaim, but even if this time your question is unmistakable, you still expect a similar answer.

"Darling," Cyan is about to continue but you hold up your hand in aim for her to stop. You know where her "darling" leads you in life. And that destination is non-existent.

Despite your tries to stop, she doesn't. "Listen to me y/n. You can go out and find your soulmate right now, no one ever told you to stay inside the library. If you know how to find your soulmate, go for it"

Now, that is something Cyan doesn't need to tell you twice. Instead of cursing at you, you now want to hug her tightly and press numerous pecks to her cheek to thank her. It's something you don't do though, but you could if you follow your current happy hunch.

It's the isolation that took a toll on your well-being and affected your way of coping with different emotions and situations. Before you entered this enchanted place, you were as sweet as a strawberry but now that you were allowed to leave, you walked out as a bitter cranberry that was kept in the fridge for one day too long.

"Are you serious?" You just want to hear her say the words once more, confirm that it was what she truly said before. You expect yourself to run out of the library within an instant, but your feet are attached to the tile as you wait for her to repeat the words once more.

She doesn't repeat the words once more, she simply nods and drifts off before you're able to stop her from doing so. Your eyes follow every movement she makes in the direction of another door and disappears behind it before you're able to see what is behind that door.

With your feet securely attached to the tiled-floor, you had no other option but to awkwardly stay still for at least sixty seconds. Your thoughts go blank at you look around the library.

Jungwoo is still sitting where he usually sits, his head buried between a book while his right hand is holding a pen in case he has to make notes. There is a white pair of earbuds in his ear so you assume or hope that he didn't hear the exclamations you made during the conversation with Cyan.

Generally, things aren't any more filled or less empty as they usually are. If anything misses, it's the presence of the other soulmate-searching humans. Today there's no Johnny, Ley, Isabelle, Donghyuck or any of the others that would usually be around at this hour of the day. You're aware they don't come every day, but you're so used to their presence filling up the ancient space even if they constantly read.

Your feet take you a step backwards, going towards the door to head outside. It's too early to celebrate that you can finally leave this antiquated hellhole because there's a hint of truth in Cyan's words, and you fear not being able to come back once you leave permanently.

"I'm going to go out for some air" you announce to no one in particular, it's not like anyone is available to you, but you still feel like telling so that Cyan and Jungwoo both know that you'll be back in a matter of minutes. You mean to see that Jungwoo nods, but realise soon that he's only bobbing his head along to a pop song.

You spin around and take the silence as an opportunity to leave for a few minutes, it doesn't have to be long, just some time to properly think and put everything on a non-organised timeline in your head. The iron door closes as you take your leave and follow the stairs up, right now they seem to lead to temporary freedom.

Once you're outside, it seems like you haven't seen the world in more than a year, even if it's been a matter of days, not even enough to make a sum that ends in enough days for a month. You have no idea what time it is until you look up at the sky and imagine this must be what the sky looks like when it's afternoon.

Your freedom only lasts for a minute, before you know it, you're claimed by whoever is making your phone vibrate in your back pocket. How did you even forget about the little device you used to be obsessed with?

Your hand slips in your pocket, clutching the phone between your parted fingertips before pulling it out of the pocket. It's only a matter of seconds before the phone is facing you with a bright screen, revealing that it's not just a text message but that someone is calling you.

Called ID is no other than your best friend Sicheng, and you waste no time in picking up the phone to hear what he has to say. You breathe into the speaker without realising that you do, already looking forward to hearing a voice other than Cyan's.

"y/n? Are you okay?" Sicheng asks, hiding a cough because he thinks he disturbed you in a heated moment, yet that's far from what is going on right now. "I am, sorry" you quickly say, regaining control over yourself to not pull such weird stunts once again. The last thing you want is Sicheng to think about your bed-activities.

"I've been trying to call you for the past two hours now, but it never went through" Sicheng breathes out himself but it's a sigh of relief that he finally gets to talk to you. He's not the type to call, so he must have been in a state of distress when he wasn't able to reach you. "I was busy, sorry" you apologise once more to him.

Sicheng sighs for the second time, it's another exhale of pure relief. "I have to talk to you, do you have time? It's important," he says before you're able to ask why he called you non-stop for the past two hours. You opt to nod but after a few seconds, realise that he can't see it. Normally he's next to you but now you're hearing his voice through the phone so he can't see you, and you can't see him.

"Of course, I have time" you answer Sicheng as you try to speak in a comforting tone, not aware of what Sicheng is about to say but it already sounds like it's something serious. "What is it?" you ask when your eyes don't pick up any response, no sound, nix.

"It's about the daisies"

You are all eyes and ears once he mentions the little flowers that have become so precious to you. Your eyes even glance to the spot where you thought you saw a daisy dwindling a couple of days ago, back when Jungwoo must have labelled you as lunatic.

"What about the daisies?" you ask back carefully, your hand fumbling with the edge of your shirt as your heartbeat picks up the pace. Through your veins spread nothing but fear, because deep in your heart you know exactly what happened to the white-coloured flowers.

"How long has it been since you were in the park?"

The question doesn't take you by surprise but it makes your nerves build up even more. The pit in your stomach now seems to take up al available space and even then, it only seems to grow bigger and bigger. Your mind has to dig through countless of book pages to get to the asked piece of information: when was the last time you had been in the park?

"A few days ago?" you answer in a questioning tone, admitting the words take you by surprise. It gives you time to reflect on yourself: how you abandoned the park for the library, and the real tree for a fantasia daydream of it. All of that for your soulmate, even if it's your own fault.

Sicheng hears how unsure you are by the underlying tone in your voice, it gives away that you're either way insecure or scared. He opts for the second one: it obviously wasn't going to be good news if he had been trying to reach you for over two hours just to happily talk about your visits to the park. "I was there today, y/n."

"And?" you impatiently urge for him to continue speaking before you properly processed the words that he went to the park. It's nerve-wracking to wait until he finally speaks up, even if you doubt that you want to hear what he has to say.

Nix.

"The daisies are gone, someone plucked them off. Only some stems are left"

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

When you wished for freedom, you didn't wish for the four daisies to be plucked away from you.

Your fingers dig through the grass in an attempt to find remains of the daisies, or find new barely-blooming daisies. You run your fingers through the cold grass multiple times, your eyes observing between the blades of grass to hopefully encounter something.

Sadly, you have to conclude that everything is gone, aside from the stems that are hidden between the grass. Clearly, the non-beautiful pieces were left even if they were critical to the white-yellow-coloured flower. There is a torn piece of a white petal laying in the depths of the grass, and you grieve over it.

Tears are endangering the soft and dry skin fo your cheeks, but the wet tears stay hidden in the corners of your eyes for as long as you're strong enough to hold them back. "Why?"

You don't get a response to your question, simply because you're not asking anyone, and no one is around you to answer. You know it's a question you can answer for yourself, and there is only one answer possible: you're the one to blame.

The blame is put on yourself, for various and valid reasons. For starters, you abandoned the park to spend your time in a library where books guide your feelings instead of your heart. Second, you were the person that wished for freedom and it heavily affected your chances to ever meet your soulmate in this life.

The combination of thoughts trigger the tears and they take their chance to slowly roll down your cheeks in grief. You feel your cheeks getting wet with remains of sadness, regret and grief. Before the first one falls onto the green grass, another one already rushes out and follows the wet trail.

You want to close your eyes and disappear from reality, but you don't allow yourself to see your soulmate's soft orbs when you close your own. Instead, you can only stare at what should have been the flowers guiding you as you walked on the path to your soulmate.

Whatever there is left to grasp, you grasp between your fingertips. You pull pieces of grass from the earth in the process of taking the leftover stems from their designated growing space.

When you stand up from your kneeled position, you faintly notice that the jeans fabric that covers your knees became a mixed colour of green and brown: the colours of grass and dirt. But the discoloured jeans are the least of your concerns right now.

With the stems of the daisies tightly clutched in your fist, you leave the daimyo oak alone by running out of the park. There's only one place you can go, and only one person that can tell you what to do: Cyan.

Your feet had never been this fast whilst running to the library, nor had your eyes done an effort of this kind to make sure you didn't bump into fellow humans or objects. That was one less disappointment for you to worry about. You had no idea for how long you ran when you finally arrived at the library, it seemed to have taken hours but in reality, it must have been a matter of minutes.

"Ecru" leaves you lips before you run through the barely-opened door to get inside the library. You look around frantically, searching for Cyan but you can only see Jungwoo who is still studying whatever he got to know about his soulmate.

Your feet skip over the large tiles as you march over to Jungwoo, trying to be understanding but you pull at the cord of his earbuds so that at least one of them falls from his ear. His lips are parted in surprise and it takes him a second to turn his head and realise that it's you who did it.

"Where is Cyan?"

Jungwoo doesn't answer your question immediately, causing you to only get more anxious. Tears start to rapidly flow down your cheeks, they do it gracefully but the sight looks far from that in third-person view.

"Why are you crying?" Jungwoo asks you worriedly, grasping your arm in an attempt to pull you into a comforting hug. But your trembling hands don't allow it, yet, they're too weak to stay together to protect whatever is left of the little daisies.

The remains sadly fall to the floor, descending from between your fingertips and onto the cold tiles. Your eyes meet Jungwoo's momentarily but as soon as you become aware of the emptiness in your hands, your blurry vision shifts to your hands, and towards the floor.

One droplet, two droplets and still flowing. Falling on the sadly fallen flower stems and petals.

"They plucked my daisies" you croak out in a broken voice, staring at the floor where the faint green colour becomes the eye-catcher of the scenery. Your blurry vision leaves you with nothing but hues, you can't even recognise the shape of a stem in the little heap that was on the floor.

You still feel the stems falling from between your fingers even though you're left empty-handed.

"Your daisies?" Jungwoo asks as he stares at the floor as well. His vision clear enough to see blades of grass, mixed with a couple of while petals and next to them some more greenery that he can't particularly name because they look the same as grass but a different texture. It's the little petal that makes him realise what you mean when you say the word 'daisies' but it still doesn't click in his mind.

His hand awkwardly moves towards you as you continue to sadly drop your tears over the greenery, his hand is reaching towards your back but pulls back in hesitation.

Before Jungwoo is able to make up his mind about the right way of comforting you, your name is called by Cyan who almost spurts from the hidden room within the library. She marches over to you with quick and heavy steps until she's right in front of you.

"y/n, what's wrong?" Cyan asks as her foot hovers over the stems unnoticeably, her hands move to your shoulders to make looking into your eyes possible. Her hands instantly straighten your shoulders but your eyes never leave the stems that are now crushed by a pair of elderly-woman shoes. You don't have the guts to say anything about it, if anything, it makes you realise that your chance to meet your soulmate is crushed.

"My daisies" you start to say but you can't finish off what you said so far. The daisies were the only living organism that mattered to you aside from your soulmate, and now, both of those were lost. Your arms that limply hang from your body bring a movement to your index finger, merely pointing down to where Cyan is standing. The effort goes by unnoticed, even by yourself.

"Your daisies?" Cyan inquires but the tears that freely run down your cheeks give away the answer before you even have to tell her what's going on. Better than you know, she is aware of your task and aware of the five daisies that led you to your soulmate. She doesn't judge even if she knows, she listens.

You nod your head, hiccuping due to the lump of sadness that is stuck in your throat. "Someone plucked my daisies and now they are gone."

Cyan's hands that had been on your shoulders, rapidly move to the back of your head as she pulls your body against her own. Her lips part as she wants to say everything will be okay any upcoming day, but that sadly wasn't the truth, nor would you believe it if she said that.

"Look at me," she tells you, once again holding onto your shoulders as she distances your bodies. Your tear-filled eyes are slow to react and ignorant as you can barely focus them on her. "This doesn't mean the end, y/n. I'm going to help you look for a way to make this right."

You want to trust her, you really do. But you can't bring yourself to put a grain of trust in her words because they seem unrealistic, just like everything else that is happening in this library.

"y/n," she says your name effortlessly because she knows you're listening even if you are not willing to. "I'm going to help you. Together we can still find your soulmate" she tells you, just the same words as earlier but with different words and phrases.

You take her hands away from your shoulders and shake your head in response. Your earlier wish for freedom becomes the wish to never remember any of the things that happened, a wish for the daimyo oak to permanently and magically disappear from the park so that you never have to look back at it again.

"Sorry Cyan," You say to her, the words hide the exact phrase that you're giving up or you've already given up at this point. Once more, your eyes meet the floor in sadness.

A virgin-white petal stares at you from its position on the floor, it's as damaged as your heart is, yet, its condition doesn't make you feel less lonely. You bend down, not caring if both Cyan and Jungwoo are staring at you whilst you grieve over the lost and broken petals.

Your fingertip reaches out for the petal, carefully lifting it as it rests on your fingertip.

You have to decide if you're going to wilt like a daisy or if you're just going to go forward and live the life that you've been granted

「 ʙᴇɪɢᴇ # ꜰ5ꜰ5ᴅᴄ 」

Your fingertip caresses the outline of the daisy that is printed on the spine of the book, your finger lifting slightly when it comes across one of the raised bands in the middle of the spine. It's useless to open the book but you can't help it, you open the book until the gutter is steady enough to separate the two parts.

Another illustration of a daisy stares back at you as you observe it, it's the anatomy of a daisy, something you surely knew by head at this point. Why did you still remember it even when you would never be able to use the knowledge?

Your heart hurts, almost symbolically sinks when your thumb tumbles over a few chapters, a new page greeting you with the uses of a daisy. Your eyes follow the different uses: culinary when its young leaves are between other edible greenery in a salad, herbal medicine when their juice is extracted to heal wounds, soulmate when it's destined that a person looks for an object of affection through the French game effeuiller la marguerite.

You swallow away the lump of sentiment in the back of your throat, trying not to gaze upon the infamous word, but you read out the word silently at least five times, once for every flower you abandoned in the park. Your thumb moves to the corner of the page, over the page number in hopes to skip over the page.

Yet, two minutes later, your eyes still read over the words while your thumb is frozen upon the digits that you don't want to change. It's like you're sentimentally obsessed, a bad consequence of not being able to say goodbye before your grieving process began.

Donghyuck who has been studying a book about dreams -as he has been dreaming about his soulmate and still would dream about them until the day they would meet one another -, stands up from his stool as he sees you lurking around the bookshelves in distress and grief.

"Are you alright, y/n?" he asks with a caring smile on his lips, you miss the sight because your eyes are endlessly pasted on the page of the book. At first, you only nod in response before muttering out a quiet, "yes."

Donghyuck shakes his head, his hand pulling on the top edge of the book to take it from your tight grip. "Focus on me for a few seconds, please. I know you're not alright," he says as he manages to conquer your weak grip, receiving the book between his hands even if it was never your intention for it to end up in his hands.

"I don't want to talk," You say as you look at Donghyuck but only momentarily, not allowing him to look at your tear-filled eyes for longer than a handful of seconds. You lower your head, facing the floor and mistakably see the green hue of the stems even when the floor is clean and only matte in its own dark-blue colouration.

"I know," Donghyuck responds, his hands gently put away the book on the nearby bookshelf before he takes your hands in his to hold. "But you can't give up now, your soulmate is waiting somewhere for you. Are you going to give all of that up because of the daisies?"

Even if you don't want to listen to what he has to say - because you've heard the same words at least twenty times in the past week - you can't help but listen to every word and consider it in the depths of your mind. "I know," you answer to his words but leave his question unanswered.

Yes, you are going to give up the progress you made because your daisies are plucked away. There is no reason for you to continue the search of your object of affection just to please your inner-soulmate personality or dreams. The longer you think about it, the more doubts you start to have with everything that has happened. No one could change your mind thus far: not Johnny who came by to say he met his soulmate, not Émilie that took your seat the times she was there, not Cyan who tried her hardest to be a positivist in this situation.

"Don't give up yet," Donghyuck said as he looked at you, a sad smile coating his lips because he felt emotional by just the sight and thought. If he were to lose the one thing that could lead him to his soulmate, he would have given up too, perhaps even earlier than you did. "You still have the daimyo oak in the park right? Please don't give up so soon."

You don't plan on replying to Donghyuck's endless pleading about you giving up, but a response is not anticipated anymore when the noise of the iron doors opening suddenly interrupts the conversation. All heads turn to the door, even yours is quick to react by giving all of your focus to the door instead of the melancholic-looking floor.

You catch a glimpse of who is running out of the door before it slowly starts to close again.

Black-haired Jungwoo who had been dressed in his usual jeans with nothing but a simple shirt to dress him up casually for the daily library visits. The white Converse-branded shoes on his feet take him out of the library as fast as his feet allow him to go. Walking is not even an option, he is running.

"What is going on?" Donghyuck and you simultaneously blurt out when seeing the young boy run out like his life is depending on it. Even when the iron-grated door slowly closes again, your eyes don't recolate, too astonished by the sudden unexplained and unexpected situation.

Cyan slowly steps forward towards the door as she sees it closing, she carries a smile on her lips as she knows exactly what is going on. She glances proudly at the closed doors, her eyes slowly blinking as her imagination is prepared to show her what is going to follow next. "His soulmate," she answers shortly, giving you and Donghyuck a soft look "flowers are blooming on his path, he must know the way."

The words leave you and Donghyuck clueless, but it's the smile displayed on her lips that make you the most confused that you have been in a while. You have the perception that Jungwoo found his soulmate, or at least is one step further than he was last week.

As you feel your heart breaking, you experience happiness that Jungwoo found his soulmate.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

The minute hand ticks around the clock twice, it signals four times in two hours: when a new hour is announced and when that same hour passed halfway already.

One hundred sixty-six minutes pass by on the clock, you don't count any of the minutes but you're aware enough of the time each time you take a small glance. Due to the observing skill, it's not hard to count how many minutes pass by.

The minute hand is about to move a millimetre under your watching eyes, but you get distraught by the sound of the door opening. It can only be one person, the person everyone waited for: the person Donghyuck and you stayed longer for, the person Cyan dropped her work for.

Jungwoo appears inside again with a jubilant smile coating his lips, he looks like he won a singing contest but is out of breath due to the timeworn use of his voice. He breathes deeply as the doors close, giving him a cool breeze even though his body feels too warm to get cooled off.

"y/n," he starts immediately as his steps approach you, his pace fast but the rhythm in his footsteps are off due to the running back and forth he did. Twelve steps further, he stops when he is only two steps away from making physical contact with you.

You stay silent as you're taken by surprise, surprised by the sudden unexpected scenario that is yet to unfold right in front of your eyes. Speechless, even after a few seconds, you still can't utter out a response.

"I was in the park," Jungwoo says as he notices your silence, his breathing faintly coating a layer of warmth on your cheeks due to the condensation. His hand reaches out to yours gently, running only the pad of his thumb over the skin of your hand. "In the park?" you ask him soft, your expression brightening by a whisker, but it's enough for Jungwoo to see the changes.

"I was in the park" He repeats again, his other four fingertips slowly embracing yours until he is properly holding your hand in his. Your hand is trembling in anticipation or fear, for whatever is about to leave his lips next.

You nod in response, urging for him to continue speaking, you want to pull the words out of his mind so that you can hear them sooner, but realise he must have seen something unforeseen. "I went to the park for you, because I heard you talking about the Daimyo oak. So I immediately left and went there, and under the tree was a daisy."

A daisy. Those are the only two words you process out of all of the words he said. It's quiet when you try to once again process and accept what he said, your imagination running wild over the thought of one single daisy blooming under the oak, giving you another chance to meet your soulmate.

"Are you for real?" you ask as a smile slowly creeps onto your lips, your lips desire to curve upwards but you don't let them because your heart doesn't want to be harmed in case it was only a sick joke on your grieving process.

Jungwoo excitedly bobs his head up and down as a yes, he's excited but at the same time he has never been so serious about something before, he's torn with what way to bring over the news to you in order for you to believe it. But the young man can't contain the positivity that streamed through his veins when under the Daimyo oak, he saw a tiny daisy growing.

"You have to get to the park," Donghyuck says with a bright smile, Jungwoo's excitement clearly getting transferred to Donghyuck because he's unable to control the happy expression on his face. His eyes shift to Jungwoo and then back to you, not even considering Cyan who has been standing with you as well. "Go!"

Cyan clears her throat before you can do as Donghyuck says, it doesn't stop you from taking a step towards the door but does stop you from running out of the library to check if a daisy is really growing in the spot where the other four had been plucked away. She calls your name to make you turn towards her, which you do as you become aware that she wants to say something.

"Don't let it get plucked away again," She starts saying in a serious tone, almost strict as this might truly be the last chance you have to find your soulmate. You react by nodding your head, not giving her words attention, nor do you use your own words to reply to her.

It turns out to be Donghyuck who triggers you into ignoring Cyan "go!" he shouts and in reaction to that, you take off running. You exchange the library for the outside world again, this time not for freedom, but for your soulmate who might have given you one last chance.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Desire is like a storm. Things get broken

There is a quote saying "where flowers bloom, so does hope."

Hope bloomed in the depths of your heart as you ran all the way from the library to the park, running over the grass instead of the path just to get there a few seconds faster. From afar you weren't able to see if your tree engulfed a little blooming daisy.

But once you came closer, close enough to observe small-scaled details. One thing you're not able to observe is the growth of a little miracle in the grass.

Green is the only colour that paints the grass-filled space underneath the tree, you're not colour-blind, as no petals nor disks stare at you as you stare down in search for them. There are no daisies growing, peeking from out of the grass to grow even taller than the green blades.

"Where is the daisy?" you ask yourself quietly as you glance around your aura, circling around like a clock but it's useless. Nothing is growing, nor blooming, aside from the pain in your heart, even though you're embraced by the branches of the Daimyo oak.

Your view lowers itself another notch, this time in disappointment as there is nothing more to observe. Whether Jungwoo played a joke on you, or the flower got plucked away between the time that you and Jungwoo separately observed here, is something that doesn't matter. It's not Jungwoo's fault, nor is it the tree's that didn't protect its fellow natural miracle. It's your fault, you couldn't even live life as a natural flower, you bloomed like an artificial flower.

「 ꜰʟᴏʀᴀʟᴡʜɪᴛᴇ # ꜰꜰꜰᴀꜰ0 」

Your slouched shoulders effortlessly moved along with the natural movement as soon as you sigh, the walls seem to tighten after you let out the sigh. You feel closed in but the walls are so far away, it feels like you are left alone in a place you don't recognise anymore.

The physical sensation you feel when you sigh makes it clear that you're heartbroken, if not any feeling that is even worse than heartbreak. Even though heartbreak is the excellent word to use right now, broken not by your soulmate, but by yourself.

There's a hot cup in your hands, hot from the heat of the beverage, but it doesn't warm up your cold fingertips, nor does your heart feel warm by the little source of heat.

Less than one week ago, your days still felt enchanted. Filled to the upper brim with magic of the unexplained. Your warm beverage had tasted like the loveliest love potion, and you had willingly drunk every sip until the last drop fell on your tongue.

Each day was different but no less magical, if anything, each day that passed was more magical than the other. The twenty-four hours in a day resembled one step towards your soulmate, thus you walked the path for countless hours, and got one step closer to the promised land with each day that appeared on the calendar.

Dull. Days no longer felt magical or enchanted. Days were endlessly filled with dullness: every twenty-four hours, all one thousand four hundred forty hours, and the many seconds you could convert it to but that would fall into more depressive thoughts about never being able to walk the path.

Flowers had wilted on the path, blooming was something that wouldn't occur again. It was one of a kind opportunity to see the path filled with flowers. Unforgettable. Now you're doomed to walk on the same path and notice how the shades of reality coloured life but left the wilted flowers monochrome.

"ecru"

The word is hidden behind the muffled scoff that you let out but you can hear yourself saying the words. You don't expect a large door to grant you access to a library this time, if anything, you wish for something grander. Whether your grand wish has something to do with your soulmate is something you don't even know: you wish to meet him but at the same time you wish to forget everything that happened. Even though you're sitting in your own home, you hope that you can forget the past weeks and return home. A world without Daimyo oak and daisies.

Next to the post-it note where the term of the colour is scribbled down on, is your phone that has been endlessly occupied with its buzzing indications. It's something you opted to ignore for the past forty minutes even though the buzzing is more bothersome than the person who is spamming you with possible supportive messages.

You let out a soft sigh when the buzzing finally comes to a halt for longer than five seconds, you can't see it yourself but a sense of relief is washing over your facial expression, coating the sadness momentarily.

Now that the obnoxious buzzing isn't filling your eardrums, you feel tempted to pick up the phone and look at the messages, perhaps even force yourself to reply to some of them. Your temptation is hard to neglect, and within a span of nine seconds, the phone moves from the table into your hand.

The plain lockscreen of a professionally photographed scenery makes you think negatively about the way people see reality, it's them that see all of the nice colours while in reality, things are as coloured as you make them, and you're not planning on continuing your life with a pair of ecru-coloured glasses sugarcoating the world.

You're about to press the button to make your screen go black but get reminded of the many notifications because of the little border that restricts you from seeing the full picture on the screen. You take a second to stare at all of them: not individually even if multiple messages and useless emails have been displayed there, the global look seems to be your concept for picking who is important enough to reply to.

One name catches your attention, a name that you put in your contacts but never received a message from, nor ever sent a message to him: Kim Jungwoo.

Jungwoo [ 9 : 59 am ] : please reply, Cyan said that you shouldn't let the daisy get plucked away

The message makes you press the screen multiple times, once to say you want to read the message and twice to confirm to your phone that opening the messaging app is all you want at this moment. The coloured lockscreen disappears from your sight, instead, you're greeted with at least a dozen of one-sided messages, waiting for a response from you.

You scroll up lightly, until the moment your screen nearly hits the top of the saved conversation. Intensely, you read them word by word even though minutes ago, you swore you became a non-believer

Jungwoo [ 9 : 10 am ] : are you awake? There's something I need to say

Jungwoo [ 9 : 31 am ] : the daisy is under the oak in the park

Jungwoo [ 9 : 31 am ] : please believe me this time, I swear it's there

Jungwoo [ 9 : 46 am ] : let me go to the park with you, I'll show you

Jungwoo [ 9 : 48 am ] : please believe me. This oak is my birth flower and I believe in the magic that it would grant you a daisy because it did. I swear the daisy is there

Jungwoo [ 9 : 50 am ] : I'm staying here until you reply

Even though it was a waste of time, you still read the remaining seven messages to yourself, they all said the same, they all told you to reply or get your ass to the park as fast as possible. Another element that returned in more than half of the messages: the daisy.

Your feet are steadily placed on the floor, your legs seem to make it a forceful feeling like you're preparing to start running a marathon any second now. Indeed, you are ready for takeoff whenever the last straw triggers you into doing so. There's only one destination, one path, one marathon trail and that leads you straight to the park.

But it's your mind that runs a different marathon and prevents you from putting stupid thoughts into action, your mind endlessly avoids both of the paths there are: to go or not to go. You have enough reasons not to, seeing last time there hadn't been a daisy. If there is a reason to go, it's for your soulmate.

There is nothing you can lose by going, or at least that's what your heart tells you to tone down the loudness of your mind's unsteady footsteps. Plus you still trust Jungwoo, despite him being incorrect about the daisy last time, but you convince yourself that he stood under the wrong tree…

"The wrong tree?" You question the words you tried to convince yourself of, it's a thought that didn't cross your mind before but he had never explicitly said the Daimyo oak was his birth flower. It meant that he wouldn't be able to choose the wrong tree, there was only one Daimyo oak in the park, and apparently, it was accompanied by one daisy.

Jungwoo [ 10 : 13 ] : please come to the park

The buzz from the phone almost went through your veins, triggering you into the takeoff you had expected. Without responding to the text, you put the phone in your pocket as you got up from your chair.

Left your house, door wide open, heaven knows.

The daisy is so worth it, it is.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

The unbuttoned grey trenchcoat that Jungwoo is wearing immediately pulls your attention, almost no one could pull off being so tall and make a trenchcoat look shorter than it proportionally was. Yet, it is the pure-looking facial features that bring the small sign of happiness to your lips.

"Finally!" He breathes out as you take the last few steps towards him, removing his hands from the 'storm' pockets to immediately run them through his black haircut instead. His body is filled with healthy tension and perhaps fear as well, because he badly wants you to believe him, after all, he had been speaking the truth all this time.

"How long have you been here?" You ask worriedly as you imagine him being here for way longer than you might realise, especially when you think about the forty minutes that he begged for you to come to the park. Jungwoo shrugs in response but there's a mischievous smile that tells you everything you need to know, "not too long".

As you look at Jungwoo, the Daimyo oak seems to naturally catch your attention by being as tall as it is. You don't need to tell the black-haired boy in front of you about the oak, nor about your newly-found excitement and hope about the daisy because Jungwoo can almost feel your emotions spreading through the many veins in his body.

"Oh!" Jungwoo reminds himself when he remembers why the mischievous smile was on his lips and the reason why he had been waiting here at the park for over an hour. "You have to come and look at the daisy," he said as his hand leaves his hair and immediately reaches out for your hand.

It would have looked like him dragging you along if it weren't for your own fast-paced footsteps that match Jungwoo's as you march towards the oak. You stay quiet as you anticipate the appearance of a little daisy, but Jungwoo can only let out a happy sound that almost sounds like a giggle.

You heard those happy giggles before, years ago, when your friends played "loves me, loves me not" with the daisies in the park and you wonder if soon you will be the giggly person because there is someone who answered you positively. You might not be at the appropriate age to giggle about such things, but better late than never. And when you're old: nostalgia is nostalgia, no matter at which age you were giggly over a lover you met through a game of loves me, loves me not.

Your feet move slightly faster than Jungwoo's when you're only a few steps away from being under what seems like your safe haven. Jungwoo takes it as a sign and slowly lets go of your hand, stopping his feet from moving before he's able to step into your safe bubble.

His eyes follow every movement you make, his eyes shining with happiness for you but he feels a little piece of his heart hiding the feelings that he isn't supposed to feel. He doesn't want to feel as okay as he feels, he wants to tear up but something tells him it's okay to be okay. His thoughts take him to fragments of time: when he saw you laugh or when he saw the tears rolling down your cheeks, all of the times he can look back on with his honest heart that stays hidden for the outside world.

"Jungwoo?"

Your voice pulls him out of his thoughts, he doesn't need to move his head to be able to see you as he had been staring at you and the scenery unknowingly. Nervously, his hand itches the back of his neck but still doesn't get the hint that something is expected from him.

"There is no daisy," You tell him even if it is too quiet for him to hear it, you only hear yourself say the words. You wish you were in a phase of denial, a phase where your mind will sugarcoat the sad story with something untrue and non-realistic. "There is no daisy!"

The second time the words leave your lips, Jungwoo can clearly hear what you said. "What do you mean?" Jungwoo asks incoherently, confusion fills his mind but he can't see anything because you're standing in front of the spot where he saw the daisy before.

His lips part slightly to speak but nothing comes out, he swore he saw the daisy here before you were here, and the time when you didn't show up at all as well. There was only one flower so how would he be mistaken so much? His breathing is stuck in his throat from the bundle of nerves that block the way.

With heavy - almost plumbum-feeling - feet he drags himself under your safe haven and his birth tree. Just like all the times before this one, he feels a sense of warmth engulfing him like the tree is holding protective branches around his body and above his head.

His feet come to a halt right next to you, like an anchor sinking to the depths of the sea, he stranded to this particular spot and isn't able to move another step. He moves his head to the right slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of the green grass that should surround the white flower. "The daisy," Jungwoo exclaims in a whisper as there are no white petals of which the colour deviates with the green of the grass.

Geen madeliefje

"y/n," Jungwoo starts anxiously as he placed his hand on your shoulder, the grip barely non-existent as the happiness from before is replaced with a heap of other mixed feelings. He feels sad for you, he truly does, on the other hand, he can't help but feel blank and empty now that there is no flower that grants your wish to find your soulmate.

Your lower lip nearly trembles as you hold it back from parting to yell at the world, yell at Jungwoo for once again saying he saw a daisy while there is no daisy waiting for you. It bothers you more how his warm and comforting hand is placed upon your shoulder.

"Jungwoo," you repeat his name as he said yours, the difference is found in the tone: whereas he sounded anxious, you sound broken. It's a symbolical thing but Jungwoo can almost hear your heart breaking in pieces when you say his name like that, even though, your heart would never react in any form or shape when saying his name.

Your body turns to him, causing his hand to limply drop to where it is supposed to be next to his body. Your eyes are closed but you find the courage to slowly open them to look at Jungwoo, you hope disappointment isn't the blinding emotion in them because you try to keep it hidden.

"It's okay, thank you for trying," You say in a soft tone, curving your lips into a smile but the corners stay as tight at they are now, not even moving the tiniest inch because you keep them in tone. "I'm sorry, I really thought I saw a daisy here," Jungwoo noiselessly admits, his eyes non-stop going between you and the spot where he saw the flower blooming.

You look at him to meet his eyes, knowing you can believe him when he says that, and you want him to know that you believe him but at the same time that you're disappointed in yourself for allowing the situation to get out of hand. The brown eyes seem familiar, a little too familiar as you swear you've been staring into them every time you close your eyes.

Jungwoo tilts his head as you look into his eyes, confused by the sudden change in your non-verbal attitude even though he unknowingly feels the same emotions as you do. The more you stare at him, the further his head tilts as he continues to gaze back.

Something as tiny as a snowflake appears in front of your visions, Jungwoo sees it as it dwindles down in front of your eyes, you can see it peacefully falling from his hair and onto his grey trenchcoat. Your eyes want to shift to the sky but you're stopped by the colour contrast going on in Jungwoo's hair.

White petals elegantly rest on the black strands of hair and a single minuscule daisy is trapped between the locks of his bangs. The white petals contrast against his black hair and the yellow-coloured disk makes the look wholesome. Disbelief spreads through your body, causing your eyes to widen as you try to make sense of the situation.

"There is a daisy in your hair, Jungwoo," you whisper nervously as your fingertip points towards the non-artificial flower in his hair. The sight makes your heart beat faster: a nearly adoring feeling spreading from your heart into your tiniest bloodstream.

You're standing under Jungwoo's birth flower, the Daimyo oak. While you're standing there: you are looking for a daisy to find your soulmate with and Jungwoo is next to you with multiple petals in his hair and one daisy to complete the look.

"In my hair?" Jungwoo asks as he uses his hand to almost comb through his hair, causing a few of the petals to fall from his hair and onto his fabric-covered shoulders. He feels the softness of the petals under his fingertips and can almost feel his quickened heartbeat in the tips of his fingers with each touch he leaves onto the petals.

You don't have to conclude, it's premade and there's only one possibility. Jungwoo is your soulmate.

Saying the words out loud isn't something beefed, by the time the conclusion is given to you, Jungwoo already has a bright smile on his lips. Smiling like a flower receiving a bit of sunlight to grow towards, smiling like a person who just found his soulmate.

His gaze is locked with yours, staring at one another as the droplets of reality sink in. The brief silence that follows is as tender as a rainstorm of daisies.

"It's you," you whisper to break the silence, your eyes endlessly locked on your soulmate who can't help but mirror your actions because he's stunned. A smile breaks through your facial expression as the last sigh finally pushes past your lips.

The flower in your heart was blooming and you could feel the effect it had on you. The person that you had fun with and cried with, the person you motivated into searching for his soulmate. He was your object of affection.

Jungwoo slowly nods even if he is still trying to grasp the situation with both hands, his fingertips slip from reality and dip into the ecru world he unconsciously chose for when Cyan told him to choose a colour. "It's me, " he says in a soft tone, a nervous chuckle slipping from his lips as his ecru world no longer seems divergent from reality.

Under the embrace of the tree, Jungwoo reached his arms out to you and within seconds engulfed you in his arms. His arms felt warm and sincere, feeling the desperation by the strong grip he had on you.

Your eyes were closed, as were Jungwoo's, almost overly used to the vague image of one another. But the heartfelt moment keeps you in reality, the freshly-bloomed love between two soulmates.

"Their desire was silent yet magnificent, like a thousand daisies attuning their faces toward the path of the sun"

「 ᴇᴄʀᴜ # ꜰᴀꜰ0ᴇ6 」

The chorus of your alarm needlessly plays its tune to wake you up, it's only on the bedside table so you have no trouble in reaching out your arm and pressing your index finger onto anything that feels like a phone screen. It's a Sunday morning, a day of only domestic softness and time for loved ones.

"Why did you set your alarm?" You hear the voice next to you question out loud even if it only sounds like a mumble, the slight chilliness makes everything sound louder than it truly is. The sheets even produce slight sounds as Jungwoo turns his body to you, pulling your body against his until there is no space for gaps to breathe. "I have no idea," you mumble in response, your heart relaxing after being awoken by the music.

It's too late to fall into slumber again and you would rather spend your time looking at your soulmate, Kim Jungwoo. You slowly turn your body around until you're facing him and smile once you see his somewhat swollen cheeks from laying on them all night. "Stop."

You let out a small laugh at Jungwoo's simple request for you to stop staring at him, his voice makes it sound effortlessly adorable and from that, you conclude that he must be happy with the specific way of affection you're giving him. Still, you don't follow his request and stare at him for a few seconds longer: giving him your coloured eyes full of admiration and love.

"You're still doing it, flower ~" Jungwoo sings almost impossibly high, his morning voice straining his throat which results in him letting out a small cough. After giving your boyfriend a worried look, you let out a hum as you know you've been caught in the act.

"Gotta admire it before it gets plucked away"

Jungwoo scoffs in response to your words, his fingertips pressing onto your skin like it is a sign that he wouldn't get plucked away and wouldn't let you get plucked from his life either. It's a soft feeling on your warm skin, his fingertips caress protectively. "I won't get plucked away," Jungwoo says to ease your mind a bit from the worries, he can imagine the thoughts that go through your mind on this lovely Sunday morning "but you'll have to water me every day," he whispers against the shell of your ear, hoping to hear you laugh at those words.

It is not the joke that makes you laugh, it is not the dirty undertone of the words, but it is Jungwoo simply being himself that makes the smile return to your lips. Worries fade like the moon does in the sky who temporarily exchanges his position so that the sun can make flowers grow a little more towards the light.

"Was that supposed to sound as dirty as it did?" You ask him as you can finally find the laughter in his words and you seize the opportunity to make this morning a good one. Jungwoo's facial expression deadpans but it's noticeable that he's trying to bite the corners of his lips with the intention keep them on the thin verge of curving upwards. "Nope," he says, his lips pressed together but laughter breaks the non-existent glue between his bottom- and lower- lip.

"I don't believe you, look into my eyes and say again that those words were not meant to sound dirty," you request from him as you get yourself comfortable on the free space of his pillow, making it easier to look into the homely-brown pair of eyes. Which he does: his eyes travel from the exposed skin near your chest, up to your lips and into your eyes. "Those words were not supposed to sound dirty, your interpretation was wrong… but I guess you just think about sex often," he teases.

In disbelief, you playfully roll your eyes at what you've been told about yourself, by none other than your own soulmate. "You think so? I think you should go out for a walk and reflect on who has the dirtiest mind here," you suggest, using the same playfulness from when you rolled your eyes.

Jungwoo's laugh fills the room, ringing decibels louder than your alarm did before you were awake. But the sound is music to your ears: it's the perfect song, played at a loud volume that it deserves to get played on because everyone should hear his laugh. Seconds after he started, his laugh slowly dies down as his lips gaze towards your lips again.

"Maybe it's me," he admits in a serious tone as his lips copy yours unconsciously, making slow movements like yours as you part your lips to respond to his words. His serious tone doesn't make you laugh but it still sounds strangely sincere, perhaps because his mind did shift to a sexier setting once he saw your lips moving like they usually did.

Once you catch up with his newly-found interest for your lips, you also catch up with his confession of why he is the one with the dirtiest mind between the two of you. You become aware of your lips being the centre of attention and play along at the moment by biting the right corner of your lower lip. "I bet it is".

Jungwoo huffs when he realises your teases are not a coincidence, nor an accident. But he's quick-witted and pulls your body on top of his without hesitation: giving you no other option but to once again look into his brown eyes. His expression is unreadable: he doesn't look like he's playing around anymore, but the same softness is still displayed in the depths of his orbs.

He puckers his lips and pouts them upwards, getting more and more desperate until he finally reaches your soft lips with his own. The kiss that he initiates is soft for the first few seconds and he can feel your smiling lips against his out of happiness.

Soon his lips start to move against yours, the kiss getting more heated as you notice his body is yearning for certain touches and that special kind of affection. Energy and excitement mix together and spread through his limbs and even his lips get affected by it: his lips that were moving against yours slowly lower themselves in a trail filled with open-mouthed kisses. He doesn't stop until the moment he kisses the side of your exposed neck, the kisses finally arrived at the planned destination.

The soft breath you let out as reaction only makes Jungwoo press more kisses in your neck, knowing by the reaction that they make your morning a little more pleasurable. His unoccupied hands trail to your hips, keeping you still before you can even start to make slow grinding motions on top of him, his fingertips squeeze your covered skin whilst his imagination starts running wild.

"Is it not too early for this?" you ask soft as your head lulls to one side, allowing his kisses to take up more space and press on the more sensitive spots of your skin. A hum leaves Jungwoo's lips and you feel the vibrations of his hum against your throat "it's never too early for this," he whispers against your skin, placing another kiss down before he pulls away from you.

Jungwoo sits up on his knees and rids himself of his layers of nightwear: the shirt that covers his skin and the pair of sweatpants that hide the hairs on his legs. His boxers are tightly covering the crotch area and it only gets worse as he winds himself up over the thought of your body. Once he's undressed, he gapes at you as you do the same he did seconds ago. Your shirt is discarded and your shorts soon join to coat the floor with a layer of fabric.

"Look at you," he whispers as he smiles at the sight of you bare, it's not just naked, it's bare and outside of that, it's beautiful. More beautiful than watching blooming flowers in the park but he shouldn't pluck petals, he only waters them so that they grow.

After taking in the sight of your body once more, he leans down to your abdomen and runs his fingertips over every little bump of your skin, every soft little patch and every rough one too. When he reaches the waistband of your underwear, he loops his fingers through them and starts to remove them in a teasingly slow manner: first an inch on the left, then only half an inch on the right. The fabric feels smooth as it runs over your legs but it's his fingers that provide warmth.

Your underwear soon joins the little heap of discarded clothes on the floor, you opt to look at where it lands out of habit but Jungwoo pays no attention to the piece of clothing.

Unlike your previous position, Jungwoo now hovers over you instead. His lips press kisses over every spot of your skin: what you expected to be a heated moment of not-so-delicate touches ends up being a moment where his lips caress over your skin with adoration.

"I love you so much," he whispers to you, his lips pressing against your earlobe to give a tiny kiss there before his loving path continues down your body. Your response follows minutes later when his lips have almost reached the lower part of your stomach but you're simply in bliss due to these soft petal-like kisses. "I love you too," you whisper back to him, sucking in some fresh air but it results in your mouth allowing a quiet moan to slip out.

The way his soft lips press kisses against your sensitive skin makes the moment last longer, it makes you more impatient for more but you're enjoying the slow pace towards a possible love-filled morning. His lips press together on the smooth path of your inner thigh: giving both sides an equal amount of kisses but teasingly kisses towards your sensitive areas more.

"I want to make love to you," Jungwoo mumbles against your smooth skin, his warm breathing reflecting on his cheeks that start to feel slightly damp but he doesn't care. "Can I?"

Luckily he looks up at you when he's asking the question, he sees you nod almost right after he says the words. A smile changes his current appearance and he looks even softer than he did a few minutes ago, you wonder how it's even possible that he looks even more soft and loving.

"Yes?" he asks as you don't reply to his words by actually saying something, even if he is content with the nod, he still wants to hear your voice and have your consent. "Yes," you breathe out, repeating his words without the questioning hue.

He sits up slightly, straightening his back as he is admiring you for a few seconds. His impatient hand runs over the many spots that have been touched by his lips before, it's a teasing trail full of little twists and minimal touches that leave you wanting more. His index finger reaches the most anticipated spot once his trail has been hiked.

"Sex is the seed and love is the flower"

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Jungwoo hides your hand together with his in the sleeves of his trenchcoat, even though the warmth is provided by the sun, you feel more warmth from his - unnecessary - gesture.

The colour palette that is used to create the scenery of the park comes into view, and you can't help but smile as if you're seeing it for the first time in your life. It's like an ancient painting in a museum, you have seen it on the internet but never in real life, but in reality, it's just been long enough for you to forget the many shades of nature.

Almost six months ago, this would have looked like the stereotypical scenery but minds change, and views change too. From afar you can see the green grass and some white collectables of which you know that they are daisies, they fill the grass like butterflies fill your stomach each time you look at Jungwoo.

"Why are you smiling like that?" Jungwoo asks as he notices the smile on your lips and the way your eyes are trying to catch a glimpse of the park that suddenly isn't as far away anymore. He knows why you smile, but he still asks because he is delighted to hear the story being told from scratch. The story is the book his soulmate picked out for him and his heart willingly read every page.

"Because the park," you respond to him as your eyes shortly move to him but you don't want to lose sight of the real-life painting in front of you, you don't want it to get plucked away. Jungwoo looks away from you to look at the same piece of art, getting lost in the familiarity that sparks a collectibles in his mind.  

The world seems strangely different, the painting seems strangely different despite its familiar setting. The only thing that stays the same is the love between you and Jungwoo as you walk hand-in-hand towards the park. It's only a few seconds away, ten to be exact, nine if you pick up the pace a bit.

Jungwoo's feet halt before he's about to step on the grass field, not because it's something not everyone appreciates, but because his eyes observe why the world seems strangely different. You don't seem to notice yet, your sight is blinded by the colour ecru and you're not aware that the effect might wear off soon.

"y/n"

Your attention goes to your boyfriend again, the scenery that you've been vaguely looking at is replaced by the sight of two very surprised eyes. You hum in response as you continue to look at him, not questioning his look until he mentions it himself, which you're positive of that he will.

"W-where's the oak?" He asks as he looks at you before his eyes drift back to the missing piece of nature in the center of the park, he can see the tree in his imagination but notices its absence when he dips into the river of real life. He thickly swallows even though his throat is waterless.

Your head moves a few degrees to the right as you can only look at your boyfriend, "huh," you ask him as you eye him with your confused orbs.

"The oak," Jungwoo says in a more steady tone even though he has to keep himself steady, for some reason his long legs seem ready to give out any second. His hand untangles itself from yours to point towards the place where he met his soulmate, under a tree that was no longer there, but he was, and you were too.

Your eyes follow his fingertip until you can't see his finger in your eye-width anymore. The greenery of the park doesn't state it but your eyes officially discover the absence of the familiar oak: Jungwoo's birth tree, the tree where you found your soulmate under, the tree where daisies dwindled upon your shoulders once Jungwoo leaned towards you to hold you for the first time.

The memories are close in your embrace but you're no longer held by the tree that made all of those memories possible.  You lower your head, noticing the vague image of little daisies that are spread out all over the field, endlessly gracing every few inches with their appearance.

"Did it get plucked away?" Jungwoo asks soft as his voice almost stops cooperating, he's filled with confusion and emotions, his mind going over at least ninety-nine scenarios and he loses you in every single one of them. His hand is close to yours and he takes the opportunity to hold you tight before - just like the four daisies, and the oak - you get plucked away.

From the uninhabited space in the park, your eyes go to the movements on the little pathway of the park. A pair of unsteady footsteps shuffle over the stone-filled ground but they come to an abrupt stop when she bumps into a young man: as she stumbles back a notch, a smile coats her lips. As the young man helps her by placing his hand on her upper arm, you can see the bright colour of her eyes. Cyan, that's the exact term to the colour of her intoxicating eyes.

"Pick a colour," you read the words that fall from her lips and you can't help but mouth them in relay one second after she does. It's a familiar phrase and you even taste the remains of the colour you picked on your lips: it's a soft shade with a not-so-matching name.

Ecru.

The word effortlessly brings a smile to your lips: it's the colour of your soul and the colour of Jungwoo's love for you. Ecru: ecru was the colour of your world, ecru was atmosphere, ecru was the little steps on your path, ecru were tears when the path was unreadable. Ecru was and is magic.

"I don't think it did," you finally respond to Jungwoo has been looking at you until the answer fell from your lips. Your lips press a small peck onto his to ease his nerves. "We just planted the seed elsewhere, and it's blooming right now."

A U T H O R S N O T E / I N S P O 

hello, little daisies. With this, you must have reached the end of “colourized ecru,��� it’s been an honor writing this. I know it’s not the best writing, not the best fic, or anything but I feel happy that I was able to finish this. For the longest time I put off writing this, even to the point where I wanted to tell the other writers that I wasn’t going to go through with the collab. But I did start writing and neatly finished the fic the day before it’s due. Thank you for reading, thank you for existing 

Inspo [music] - winner, remember ; d.o, that’s okay ; yesung, here i am ; yesung, paper umbrella (jungwoo acts in this mv if you didn’t know) ;  lee taeil ; one man (cover and yes I love taeil y’all know) ;  . . .

love, ambrosia aka moondustaeil  🌼

#neowritingsnet #nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct reactions #nct soft hours #nct smut #nct fluff #nct angst #nct x reader #nct imagines #nct 127 scenarios #nct fanfic #nct jungwoo #jungwoo #kim jungwoo #jungwoo scenario #jungwoo smut #jungwoo fluff #jungwoo angst #jungwoo x reader #jungwoo imagines #jungwoo scenarios #jungwoo fic #nct fic #nct drabbles #nct blurb #nct au #nct social media au #Neo city

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH. 10

Even with the fatigue you felt after your laughing tic, you couldn't go to sleep at all last night. Which isn't a big deal, after all you are a chronic insomniac who has had an on off sleep schedule this week.

After twelve fifty-two hit and you still weren't tired or even close to doing your tired tics you did the only thing you could think to do on this technical Saturday morning. You started on your weekly tidy of the house. Bless whatever powers at be that you ended up in this cottage outside of town rather than an apartment unit surrounded by neighbors. The amount of complaints you would've gotten would have surely gotten you evicted.

It's not like you could stop this behavior, well you could but if you start doing nothing when you have spurts of insomnia you'll get lazier when you need to be productive. Banking on the fact that you'll just do it when you have insomnia. It happened all the time when you were in school, and while that worked for a while it wasn't a healthy way to cope with your sleep disorder.

You've found doing productive things or anything you would do when the sun was up typically helps you regulate you circadian rhythm faster than it ever did when you just laid in bed praying for sleep to take you.

It isn't at all surprising when you finish your chores around two forty that morning. With nothing better to do and not being at all in the mood to do any attempt at art or reading. You decide to settle in to watch a movie. It starts with scrolling through Netflix and seeing Coraline, then that turns into Paranorman, which turned into Corpse Bride, several episodes of the old Twilight Zone.

By the time you were finished with the fourth episode it was already one in the afternoon. You really needed to start baking if you wanted fresh cookies for the movie tonight. Setting up your monster movie hard drive to play a movie for background noise you set out on baking.

It's a super simple recipe you started using back in high school but it's always a hit at parties. Maybe it's because you fold candies, chocolates, nuts, or whatever topping into each cookie individually. You can't say for sure but everyone loves them, and you think that's nice.

Creaming butter while the sounds of a woman screaming in agony as a zombie eats her lower intestine seems very much on point for you. However, you soon find yourself drowning out the movie as you hyper focus on the mixing of ingredients. You tripled the recipe, hoping to make a mixture of mini sugar cookies, mini chocolate chip cookies, and mini mini M&M cookies. If you had thought about it more you might have grabbed a jar of maraschino cherries to add them to the mix. Although you think three batches of mini cookies might be a little excessive so four may have been overkill.

'Oh well, no turning back now.' you think preheating the oven for four hundred degrees and roll tiny half inch dough balls while you wait.

After about fifteen minutes you assume the oven is hot enough to start baking. You line the first tray up all with sugar cookies. You only get two thirds of the bowl down on that tray. It was your biggest one too. Setting a timer for ten minutes so you could turn the cookies to let them bake for another three after that, you turn your attention to folding a handful of chocolate chips into the next bowl's dough balls. Placing the new chocolate chip dough into the bowl holding the rest of the sugar cookie dough as you go. You nearly finish that when the timer goes off to spin the tray. Honestly at this rate all your dough will be ready before you even have one bowl down. You hope you can finish baking in time for the movie.

It's five o' two by the time you put the last batch in the oven. You've been cleaning as the cookies baked and now your kitchen is nearly clean once more. Just a few more dishes to do after that batch comes out and you pack up the cookies.

Letting the most recent batch have a chance to cool you start placing all the cookies in your three largest containers. You'll need to grab a fourth container for the last of the cookies, but all the cool cookies are now ready for transport.

And with how early in the evening it is you should eat something now so you can have some room for snacks later. Time to finish off that pizza. Taking a slice out to the bins and placing it neatly on the ground for Chonk, whenever it is he decides to come and claim it, you turn back around to finish baking and get your dinner. After pulling the cookies out and setting them to cool you reheat your dinner for tonight.

Sitting down, plate in hand, you're just able to catch the shift into the next movie. Teen Wolf 1985 starring Micheal J. Foxx. Not a scary movie by any means but you keep it in the storage drive for rainy days. And even though today isn't raining you think it'll be a good watch.

You can not believe how utterly painful that was to have just watched. It was so average that it might as well not had the werewolf aspect at all! The acting was average, makeup was ok for the time, but the writing was just the worst. And the ending basket ball scene? It felt like a cheesy early 2000s Disney Channel original movie. You're pretty sure if you combined several Disney movies you'd have that exact plot. Hell Don't Look Under the Bed was scarier than that, and it was a better story too.

Checking the time you see you have about the average length of a Disney Channel movie before you have to leave. Good because you really want to watch Don't Look Under the Bed now. Switching over to your Disney+ account you find said movie and rush to put everything up as it runs through the beginning credits. With cookies packed away and the containers stacked and ready you plop back on your couch to immerse yourself in the early 2000s “horror”.

Just as the hand comes from under the bench to caress Fran a knock rings through your home, effectively startling you. Your eyes shift over to your front door, it's nearly eight thirty on a Saturday who or what is all this far out? Getting up from the couch you make your way over to your door, unlike every horror movie you have your phone and contacts pulled up and ready to dial. Phone behind your back and thumb hovering over Hollis' contact you open the door. Where three figures greet you.

Tim stands in front of the other two, dressed in dark jeans a gray tank top and red flannel with the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. Brian stands behind him and to his right, he's wearing regular jeans and an olive v-neck. Jesus fucking Christ is it 2012 and no one told you? Toby off to Tim's left is in black jeans a black t-shirt with a green short sleeve button up that has a little alien head pattern. Well, they don't look like they're here to murder you with an ax, so you move the hand from behind your back and let it rest by your side.

Missing the two tense gazes as you move the appendage.

“...Um, hi?” what would normal people do in this situation? Was this even a normal situation to find yourself in, what with three men you've just met at your front door.

Tim seems to be looking for his words, he must be out of his element as well. On the other hand Brian seems content to let Tim flounder around for a bit, all the while Toby wrings his hands together. You can't tell if it's from nerves or his tics.

“Hey..uh, so you mentioned Saturday Dead. But we're new so..and we..” Tim is even worse with human interaction than you are.

“We were wondering if 'stop it' if you wanted to ride with us and give us directions.”

Oh that makes sense.

“Yea sure thing, c'mon in. I'll go get ready.”  You give the men some space to enter your home. Then lead them to your living room,

“Make yourselves comfy.” you say as you leave them to change.

Once in your room you lock the door, although you believe you have a good reading on Toby to not be the type you can't be too safe around new men.  You opt to change into the first shirt you grab from your closet, black t-shirt with several flatwoods monsters on it along with the phrase 'squad goals' and a pair a black joggers. Perfectly comfy for a chill movie night at the crypt.

“That was fast.” is the first thing you hear when you reenter the living room.

Toby had no problems making himself comfortable in your home, since he is sitting on the couch, seemingly watching the movie with your fidget cube in hand. Brian and Tim, on the other hand, were leaning on the wall separating the living room and kitchen.

“What d'you mean?” you asked Tim confused, tilting your head to the side.

“Well, uh” he seems embarrassed by this for some reason, “women normally take a long time changing is all.” Ooooooh now you get it he's a misogynist.

The room goes quiet with Tim's stupid opinion. Toby ceases all fidgeting, Brian however looks as though he's a cat that caught a canary. He must enjoy the pain and embarrassment of others, the dick.

“Mmmh I don't think that's true,” you'll let this one slide but Tim's on thin ice, “Anyway I'm not a woman. I'm trans agender.” Tim has the decency to look embarrassed for stuffing his foot into his mouth. But it isn't really his fault you never mentioned your pronouns or lack of gender to him, and you mix and match your masculine and feminine days. Understandably you won't blame him for not knowing your pronouns but that misogynistic comment will still be marked as a red flag.

“I am so sorry.” and he truly does sound sorry for the slip up.

You shake your head and shoo away his apology, “It's good, you didn't know.”

“We ready to go?” you ask looking around the room. Tim and Toby nod, the younger man moving off the couch to stand with you all when Brian speaks up.

“Actually, Toby don't you have to use the restroom?” Said man pauses on his way over to your little group, “No.” voice laced with confusion and irritation.

Tim jumps in with a stern, “I really think you should.” Toby cuts his eyes at Tim and Brian.

As weird as it is for one grown man to tell another to go to the bathroom, let alone two grown men, you quickly remember Toby's CIPA.

“Dude the drive itself is gonna be nearly an hour plus the two hour movie. The Cryptonomica only has one bathroom and like thirty people will be there tonight.” You assumed you'd also get a glare for insisting on the matter. But you only get Toby's furrowed brow in response and he looks uncomfortable right now, not intimidating. He's probably embarrassed that his new acquaintance...friend? Is also present for the topic of his bathroom habits.

With another glare to Tim and Brian, Toby pushes past you and down the hallway. Normally this would leave you in an awkward situation but thankfully you have escape tasks!

Marching over to the entertainment center you turn off the TV. Spotting your fidget cube on the table where Toby left it, you decide to pocket it just in case he'd want to use it for the movie.

A loud thud startles you and you look up to see Tim picking up a few books that fell from the bookshelf.

'Weird...' you think as you watch him place them back onto the shelf they fell from.

“A...sorry.” as he places them back you notice one side of the shelf is tilted downwards. It must've just lost that little nub that holds the shelf up in that corner. You probably have a few spares floating around in one of your trinket holders.

You give Tim a small 'it's fine' as you pass him on your way to the kitchen. Cookies all set on the counter you go over to your fridge and grab the popcorn bag off the top. Opening the fridge and retrieving the Surge for Kirby you are all set on your snacks for tonight.

Placing the Surge and popcorn on top of your cookie containers you go back to the living room to join the boys in waiting for Toby. Who is already coming out of the bathroom, drying his hands on his jeans....He knows you had a towel for that right?

“We should be good to leave now.” Brian says turning from Toby to you.

“Ok yea, after you guys.” you side stepped  back into the kitchen doorway to let the men pass you.

“Want some help?” Toby asked as he walked closer. And as much as you wanted to say no you had it, you really didn't want to drop the Surge and have a big mess everywhere.

Nodding to him, thinking he was just going to take the things at the top or even the top container with them. Toby reaches out and barely brushes your hands at the bottom before taking the entire load into his own arms.

It felt like someone rubbed sandpaper across your knuckles and fingers where his hands touched. The burning sensation persisted even long after his hands had moved away.

It's the first time you've gotten bad vibes from Toby's touch. He's probably in a bad mood, his touch hasn't held much intention before but this hurts. Or you could totally be reading too much into this with too little sleep and you just aren't having a tactile day. You never have tactile days really just small windows where if someone is lucky they can squeeze a pat on the shoulder or a high five out of you.

“Hey, that's not helping.” you call out following the men out of your home.

“It's not?” he asks, “Then what is it?” why's he have to sound so smug about this.

“Condescending.” Toby blinks in surprise at the no nonsense tone of your voice.

You weren't harsh with your words...at least you don't think so. You were just stern in how you said them, wanting to get your point across.

Turning from the men you lock your door and check twice to make sure. When you turn back to face them you grab the top two containers of cookies, and subsequently the popcorn and Surge laying atop it, from Toby.

“This is helping. I could do this much at least.” Toby nods dumbly as you pass them and make your way to the cars.

“We can take ours, we'll drive you back.” Tim says unlocking their little sedan.

That seems fine, after all if you ended up wanting to stay later Kirby would totally let you crash on the couch in the basement and take you home in the morning. Or whenever he woke up tomorrow. And that way you wouldn't be keeping the boys too late. It is their first Saturday Night Dead and first time meeting most of the young adults in town. The night was bound to get draining.

You agree and hop into the back seat on the driver's side, Toby sliding in from the opposite side, leaving Brian to take the passenger seat and Tim to drive. You and Toby place the cookies in the middle seat and you thank him for his help. He quickly nods and looks out the window, knee starting to bounce slightly.

“Where am I going?” Tim asked as you all got buckled in.

“Ok, so we can either drive all the way through town or drive through the forest and across the river.”

“Which is faster?” Brian chimes in as Tim bristles.

“Forest.” You do catch Tim's reflection rolling his eyes at your reply.

To be fair with this group you wouldn't chance getting stuck in the forest on your way to a horror movie night. Like that's kind of a horror movie cliché right there. You and Toby are young enough that you're sure someone would mistake you two for late teens, in fact you know it's happened to you several times in the past week alone. While you're fine going into the forest at night by yourself it's only because horror movies don't center around one person dying in a forest by some ancient entity.

'But they do start that way.' that thought almost makes you want to cut back on your nightly hikes, unfortunately you have no other coping mechanisms for your insomnia other than hiking or driving. So you'll ignore that thought for now.

The car is quiet as everyone waits for someone to respond. Toby's knee bouncing is more obvious as it begins to jostle the car. He's also staring down at his hands, still red from his picking yesterday, wringing them together. Clearly the stationary car is getting to him, he breaks the silence.

“Will someone fucking say something?”

“Sorry,” you say gently to him, “Yea we can just go through town. Tim do you know where Whistle's Auto is?”

“Uh yea,” you catch his quick glance towards Toby in the rear view mirror.

“Cool just head in that direction and keep on Highland Street.”

That's all you had to say before Tim was shifting gears and driving off. You notice quickly that he's a faster driver than Toby was. It's yet to be seen if that should make you uneasy, you'll have to see how well he breaks.

When you guys had made it through town and Tim came to a stop in front of a sign proudly stating 'Welcome to the Cryptonomica' they were understandably concerned by the lack of a building or any other cars. You get out of the car and grab two of the cookie containers, when you made a grab for the other two and the snacks on top Toby kept them out of your reach and exited the car as well.

“So where is...everything?”

“Oh we have to hike. The shop's further in the forest.” you say as you walk on past Tim.

“You said people were gonna be here.” Brian chimes in.

Right this now looks like you have dragged them to a parking lot in the middle of no where in a small town that they don't really know people in. Great going YN. Way to look like the bait for a weird cult looking for sacrifices.

“Yea the Hornets. They're the local “biker” gang.” the stunt group probably had the dirt bikes out today, it was nice enough for it.

Understandably the men hesitated before following you. Toby was the one who quickly caught up with you, perks of longer legs, and matched your speed to the shop. It didn't even take five minutes before you saw the shop and a few Hornets out front smoking or just plain loitering.

A chorus of “YN!” “Hey we missed you last week.” “Yo, did you hear..” rang through as you greeted the group. Upon seeing the containers of cookies the chorus was replaced with cheers and you were given excited praise as they made way for the four of you to be let in. So embarrassing, you flush under the praise getting a little energy boost from it as well. Your mood however changes when you lock eyes with the person running the booth tonight. Keith Warren, second in command and assistant manager of the Hornets. Despite having no beef and all the same friends you two have never clicked. It's almost your thing to be completely rude to each other when you do interact.

“Warren.”

“LN” his disdain is clear too, “Ten dollars bucket.” he hadn't even looked at you the jerk!

“Forty tonight, brought friends.” you placed the containers you had on the table as you dug the money from your wallet to pay for you all.

Keith does look up at that, literally the only time more locals come in is during Halloween when they want to get into the spooky season. So he's surprised to see three new faces attending Saturday Night Dead.

“Hey there, name's Keith.” you roll your eyes as he introduces himself to the group, you'll just slip away now since you already paid.

“Rude!” Kieth calls out, “Small talk!” you respond. You vaguely hear the rest of the introductions and Keith waving off the guys when they try to pay again. Oh maybe you should have actually told them you'd pay for their tickets, you thought it was obvious you invited them and they even drove you here. It's just polite that you cover their tickets this week.

Soon Toby is back by your side, you have a feeling you won't be able to loose him tonight if you tried, as you walk through the shop and towards the trap door in the back. The trap door that leads to the panic room converted into movie theater on Saturdays. Once you get down you bee line for the table in the back that is already half filled with snacks and some sodas. With Toby still following you he copies your moves of opening the containers and placing them on the table. You take the Surge and popcorn away from Toby, throwing the popcorn over in the direction of your corner seat and bring the Surge over to the man working on the white screen set up.

“Present.” Kirby pays no mind to you as he struggles with the screen. So you wait silently for him to just kick the thing and move on. Like clockwork Kirby kicks the bottom cover and the rest unravels perfectly.

“I need to replace this.” he says, just like he does every week.

“Oooh thank you.” he grabs the battery acid marketed as a beverage and spirits off. Weird guy.

“That's Kirby, he runs this place. Normally very chill but between the Picnic and movie night he ….just needs a break.” it's the nicest way you can put it. Toby just nods and scans the room wringing his hands together uncomfortably. You've noticed he hasn't ticced once since leaving the car, maybe he's suppressing them despite how anxious he clearly is.

Doing your own scan of the room you see that Tim and Brian haven't made their way in yet, Keith probably talking their ears off. Better them than you, you suppose. You're about to ask Toby if he wants to find them when the local power couple walks in.

“Party starting soon my dudes sit tight!” Jake announces as he and Hollis walk in to take their usual seats.

“Op spoke too soon babe, YN's here.” Hollis let out a chuckle when you rolled your eyes.

“Came without a soap box, hope cookies are suitable.”

And both are already grabbing a few of your mini cookies before they've even sat down. You really are glad you made them. Remembering Toby's with you, you introduce him to your friends.

“Tobais these are my friends Jake,” the blonde smiles warmly, “and Hollis.” They cover their mouth and toss a peace sign up as their mouth is still full. “And this is my friend Tobais.” he raises a hand to greet them.

“Hey, you're the new guy over at Auto right? You fixed Katrina's bike up quicker than Lewis ever does.” When Toby nods Hollis continues, “Man she's been saying how much smoother it rides now. Think I can stop by this week and get you to take a look at mine?”

“Yea, that should be fine.” and with that the two began to talk shop, literally. They just started talking about Hollis' bike. Normally all the Hornets do their own maintenance on their bikes but their motorcycles still need inspections and what not. This is really working out for you, your friends all getting along.

Thankfully it seems the topic calms Toby down a little, and you can see a head twitch or two make it's appearance as the two speak. Hollis being the chill person they are, and being used to your own brand of tics, makes no comment or acknowledgment of his tics.

Jake pulls you into a conversation about plans for a hang out at H2Woah that was fun, later after all the picnicing was done. Said he wanted to try surfing in the wave pool, you aren't sure about it but you agreed you'd teach him at least the basics of surfing if he taught you how to snow board. Didn't take much for the deal to be sealed.

Tim and Brian finally made their way down to the basement and you raised a hand so they could find you and Toby. Really it wouldn't have been too difficult but with everyone starting to pack in you didn't want anyone to be out of the group. Introductions had been made and everyone took to their seats.

You were already in the corner opening your popcorn when Toby sat down on your left blocking you from the rest of the room. Thinking on it if Toby wanted to eat he'd probably be too self conscious of his scar to take his mask off.

“Hey...actually would you mind if we switched?” he just gave you a lazy look before standing up and letting you scoot into his previous spot before sitting down in your spot. This way you could in theory block the view of his scar later.

You notice how his eyes dart in the room, despite Brian and Tim being just behind you two Toby still seemed on edge in the space. He has looked a bit uncomfortable all night, maybe that's why he was sticking to your side. You're way less outgoing than Brian is and Tim seems content to let him do his own thing. You feel bad, like you pressured him into coming and now he's paying for it. Toby looks a few minutes away from ripping the skin around his nails off again and you don't want a repeat of that.

“Here.” you whisper as the lights go off, handing Toby the cube from your pocket.

It's a quiet moment between you two as the trailers of the DVD play out and Toby focuses in on the cube. You note how he gravitates to the marble and joystick sides the most, always moving his thumb across each in a counterclockwise motion before reversing for a beat. Counter counter switch counter counter switch counter counter counter switch.

Once he found his rhythm with the toy you see tension leave his shoulders a little. Is he even able to feel the tension in his muscles?

You shift focus to the screen as the opening credits play out. And if you weren't sitting so close to Toby you'd missed the clucking sound coming from him. Knowing he'd get more anxious about his tics in this “quiet” setting you opt to ignore them and focus on the movie. After all the more relaxed he is the less likely he is to tic meaning the less anxious he is and more he can enjoy himself tonight.

About a third of the way through the movie you catch Toby sliding his mask off one ear, letting it shield his scarred cheek, and grabbing a handful of popcorn. You can't hide the giddy grin on your face from the action. To say you were worried about Toby not enjoying tonight was an understatement. But he had to have felt some comfort to slide his mask off in public, right? Your reassurance comes in the form of another handful of popcorn, as Toby pays no mind to you and only to the demon currently dancing on the screen.

With a terrible movie playing and a less anxious friend at your side you settle down a bit more yourself. Barely noticing when your head falls on Toby's shoulder as you slip into unconsciousness.

You wake up to the roaring of Kirby's snores and popcorn in your hair. A typical Sunday morning for you since arriving in Kepler.

#A cure for insomnia #creepypasta fanfic #ticci tobyx reader #ticci toby #ticcitoby #brian thomas x reader #timothy wright x reader #timothy wright x brian thomas #timothy wright #brian thomas #masky x reader #masky #hoodie

[rookie-ramsey]

Songbird, Chapter 9 (Ethan X MC)

Description: She thought the biggest obstacle of her life was surviving medical school. Life had a funny away of proving her wrong with a breast cancer diagnosis.

Preview: His dad reached out and gave his shoulder a squeeze.“I’m proud of you, Ethan. I never thought I’d see this day.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Ethan smiled softly, relaxing and letting out a deep breath. “And honestly, I never thought I’d see it, either. I never thought it was something I’d want, but things change. I know that now.”

Previous Chapter

The next day, Ethan took Olivia home. He had plenty of days saved that he could take off to stay with her.

As soon as they walked into his apartment, Olivia made a beeline for the couch. She flopped unceremoniously onto it and curled up under the plush Edenbrook blanket Bryce and Sienna had gifted her.

“You rest for now. I’ll wake you up for dinner later.”

“Okay.” Closing her eyes, she wrapped her arms around a pillow and dozed off in a matter of minutes.

Unwilling to be far from her just yet, Ethan sat at the other end of the couch and quietly busied himself with some patient files. Once the afternoon sunlight gave way to evening, he left the living room to start dinner.

Per her request, Ethan made Georgian stuffed chicken. By the time the oven buzzed to alert him that the chicken was done, Olivia was awake and shuffled sleepily into the kitchen.

“How do you feel?”

“Still tired. I feel like I could go into hibernation.” Olivia washed her hands and accepted the plate of chicken he handed her. She took a seat at the table and took a bite of chicken.

Ethan sat down as well. “You need all the rest you can get. Your body is still recovering from the infection.”

“I know. I just wish I didn’t feel like sleeping all the time. At least I have an appetite today.”

He nodded encouragingly. “That’s good. You haven’t had one in a few days.”

Olivia ate her dinner in slow, small bites to avoid unsettling her stomach. She ate half of it before she felt full and stopped. “I won’t risk it. I’d like to get through one night without violently puking.”

“Understandable.”

After dinner, Olivia felt more alert and wanted to rest on the couch again instead of going to bed just yet. She made herself comfortable next to Ethan as she clicked through Netflix to find something to watch.

“There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”

“What is it?”

Ethan cupped her cheek in his hand and stroked her jaw with his thumb. “Do you remember that conversation we had several months ago? When we talked about our future.”

Olivia nodded curiously. “I remember.”

“You said you saw marriage in our future. Do you still see that?”

Her expression softened, her eyes giving way to longing and barely concealed pain. “I remember. I just hope that future is a reality for me one day.”

“Who says we need to put it off?”

At that, she arched a brow. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying? An impulse marriage?”

“I’ve given this plenty of thought. And your impulsivity… well, it’s contagious.” Ethan couldn’t contain an amused smile. He reached into his pocket and revealed a ring box.

Olivia’s eyes widened. “You’re serious…”

“Aren’t I always?” Ethan opened the box to reveal the sparkling band. “You told me once that love doesn’t have to make sense. I understand that now. I know you’re going to live to see your future and I’d like to be a part of it, if that’s what you want. Will you marry me?”

Her eyes glistened with tears. Nodding shakily, she threw her arms around him and smiled. “Yes.”

Ethan pulled her close and kissed her head. He took her hand into his and gently slipped the ring on her finger. “I love you.”

“I love you, too…” She laid her head on his shoulder. “I want to get married in the summer. I’ll be done with chemo then. Maybe by then I won’t look like a walking skeleton.”

“Don’t,” he chastised gently. “You would look beautiful regardless of when we held the wedding. But we can have the ceremony whenever you want. It’s up to you.”

“In the summer. I want the weather to be nice. And that gives me time to finish my treatments before we start planning.”

Ethan nodded and looped his arms around her. “I’ll be content with anything that you want.”

She grinned. “I feel so spoiled.”

“That’s my goal.” Ethan’s eyes softened. “Anything you want.”

“Whipped,” she teased.

“What can I say?” Ethan grinned and kissed her softly. “I enjoy spoiling you.”

Happier than she’d been in months, she leaned into his kiss. Then she held her hand out to admire the reflection of the light against its stones. “How long have you had the ring?”

“A while,” he admitted. “I had planned on an elaborate dinner proposal, but… some things don’t go as planned.”

“I like impulsive Ethan,” Olivia agreed. She leaned against his side and closed her eyes. “I’m ready to go back to sleep, but there’s one tiny problem.”

“What’s that?”

“The bed is all the way at the end of the hall, and I don’t feel like getting up.” She opened her eyes enough to give him an innocent pleading look.

“Sounds like a predicament. What am I supposed to do about that?” Ethan teased. He stood up and lifted her into his arms. With a smirk, she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned up to kiss him as he carried her to their bedroom.

“See? I told you. Whipped.”

Her first two nights of leave were peaceful enough. She knew it would only last until her next chemo session, so she took advantage of it while she could by spending as much time as possible eating her favorite foods and staying out of bed.

Just as Olivia suspected, her next chemo session left her feeling miserable. Normally, the side effects didn’t hit her until a few hours later, but this time she felt ill barely an hour after they’d left her appointment.

Half-asleep, she blinked tiredly when she heard keys in the front door, followed by the door opening and closing. A minute later, Ethan joined her in the bedroom. “That was fast.”

Ethan shrugged. “I didn’t want to leave you alone longer than absolutely necessary.” He reached into the bags and set out the ginger ale and medication he had picked up.

Nauseous and uncomfortable, Olivia sat up and dispensed two of the tablets into her mouth, following it with a slow sip of ginger ale. Any medication she had tried barely made a dent in the nausea, but she figured some relief was better than none at all.

Sighing, she curled up further under the covers. A tremor went through her, making her wince. Ethan’s hand smoothed over her forehead, brushing away a strand of cold sweat.

“Is there anything else I can get for you?”

She shook her head. “Just keep me company. I don’t want to be nauseous and bored at the same time.”

“We can’t have that.” Ethan sat on the bed and leaned against the headboard. He opened his arms to her. Grateful, Olivia snuggled into his chest and sighed.

“Ethan, I’ve been thinking about something.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t want to wait until summer. I want to get married sooner. I know everything is looking better for my illness, but… you know how unpredictable things can be. And I don’t want to risk not seeing that day happen.”

Ethan froze, his throat clenching a little. “You’re still worried that you won’t go into remission.”

She nodded slightly. “I know I’m supposed to focus on the positive test results, but all it takes is one setback to make things go south. I want to make sure our wedding day happens, if it’s okay with you for us to have it sooner.”

He rested his head against hers, kissing it softly. “I already told you that I’m happy with whatever you want. Are you sure that this is what you want?”

“I’m sure.”

“Then we’ll start planning.”

XXXXXX

All of their friends were surprised when Olivia rescheduled their wedding, but they understood.

She didn’t think she would ever lose the fear that her cancer would kill her, so she wanted to take every opportunity possible while she could. If things worked the way they were supposed to, then she would recover and they would enjoy a long married life together.

Still,  if there was even the slightest chance that waiting until summer would mean she would die before their wedding, she wouldn’t risk it.

A month after Ethan proposed to her in their living room, they held a small ceremony in the hospital’s chapel. They kept the guest list small and the ceremony simple.

Ethan felt his heart racing with an unusual nervousness as he waited. His dad reached out and gave his shoulder a squeeze.

“I’m proud of you, Ethan. I never thought I’d see this day.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Ethan smiled softly, relaxing and letting out a deep breath. “And honestly, I never thought I’d see it, either. I never thought it was something I’d want, but things change. I know that now.”

The pianist started playing a soft melody. Inhaling sharply, Ethan moved into his position on the altar and watched as their small wedding party walked down the aisle, stopping when they reached the altar.

When the melody changed and Ethan saw Olivia at the end of the aisle, standing next to Naveen, his breath hitched in his throat. A soft smile pulled at his lips as the two made their way down the aisle.

Halfway down the aisle, Olivia faltered a little with dizziness. Ethan noticed and instinctively started to step off of the altar, but Naveen steadied her and they started walking again.

When they reached the altar, Ethan reached out and gently took Olivia’s hands into her own. She smiled, leaning slightly into him for support. Ethan gazed down at her, his eyes softer than she’d ever seen them.

Naveen took his place and gave them a warm smile before he spoke. “We’re gathered here today to celebrate the marriage of Ethan Ramsey and Olivia Winchester…”

Next chapter

Tag List, Part 1

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