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scorchieart · 7 months

Text

Understaffed

Genre: Comedy

Wordcount: 1326

Prompt: In A Flash CCC hosted by @flash-exchange - October 2023: Magic Apprenticeship

A/N: My first entry for the In A Flash CCC! This one was inspired by the folks over on Discord, you guys rock for helping me finish a fic after so long! I will try my best to write some more as the challenge continues. For this fic, it's been split up as 2 separate parts, the first part being mainly from Jin's perspective and the second continuing from Yves and Nokto's. Many thanks to @lorei-writes for the feedback and suggestions. Enjoy!

Jin Grandet was not a warlock. At least, not officially.

It wasn’t because he had a late start. Most children couldn’t even read spells from the rudimentary tomes at age six, let alone pronounce them. And it wasn’t as if he was without talent. It was common knowledge throughout the kingdoms that the sorcerer’s gene manifested strongest within royal bloodlines. No, the true reason Jin failed his Warlock Mastery Examination was far less magical than he’d like to admit.

But that’s a story for another time. And even if the minimum age to apply was fifteen, it didn’t mean he was barred from trying again another year. Heck, most applicants didn’t even make an attempt until they were double that! But of course, Chevalier came of age the next year, and while the exam was merely a formality for the prodigy, barely anyone bothered to register for that round. Fueled by fiery rivalry, Clavis was hot on Chevalier’s heels the year after that, and Jin was too preoccupied with helping him train to even consider enrolling himself. And just a few weeks prior, Leon passed his exam with flying colors. A feat Jin attributes to his apt sideline encouragement and diligent inspections of Leon’s daily meat intake.

So what if he didn’t pass? Jin could still perform magic as well as any warlock. He just didn’t have a staff to show for it. Instead, he could boast that the never-before-seen-three-year-streak of fifteen-year old graduates were his students.

“For the last time, we are not your students,” Yves declared.

“And why wouldn’t you want to be?” Jin asked. He waved a hand and the curtain of low-hanging branches before him parted, revealing a narrow dirt path ahead. “I have a one-hundred percent success rate. And you’re my next conquest, Yves.”

“Yeah, Evie. Why don’t you take him up on his offer?” Nokto said, following Licht as they climbed down after Jin. “Then you can tell us if he’s legit or not.”

“Oh, he’s the real deal,” Leon said. He took a steady stance beside a cherry oak and swung his newly acquired staff overhead, making all the barren trees in the vicinity shake and shoot their branches upward like spikes. Nokto watched in awe as Leon calmed the trees down and flashed him a toothy grin. “Can’t recommend the big guy enough.”

“No, no, no, my brothers. You mustn’t let the opinions of others sway your decision making!” Clavis said, pushing past Leon. “Ask yourselves this: do I want to be taught by a syrupy dropout, or by the youngest, most renowned warlock of our age?” He struck the ground with his own staff and the dirt rumbled. Moments later, roots and tubers erupted from the earth like the undead, making Yves screech and trip on an upright rose stem. Clavis laughed maniacally as the plants continued to grow, until Leon whacked him on the head and the vegetary scene immediately reverted underground as if it never happened.

“I’m younger than you, remember?” Leon countered.

“And I was younger than you both when I passed,” Chevalier added, his pace leisurely as he joined them.

“Yes, yes, you don’t have to remind us again how your test happened three days after your birthday,” Clavis said, rubbing his bruised forehead. “It is insufferably pedantic of you.

“Shall I remind everyone instead of how you only passed because the examiner happened to sneeze when you flubbed the fire retardancy enchantment on your trousers?”

“Like I said, little ones. Follow what Jin says, and you’ll do just fine,” Clavis said.

“If you’re done sharing my many virtues, hurry on over!” Jin called. The group exchanged speculative glances before filing through the unanimated greenery towards his excited voice.

Flummoxed by their seniors’ effortless display of magical prowess, Yves and Nokto insisted they take the lead, bewitching wayward wood knots and saplings from the path. Once or twice they glanced back, hopeful to receive praise for their successful spells, only to find the trio engrossed in their own conversation.

“Maybe he wants to take us all on at once? Six against one?” Leon suggested.

“Please,” Clavis yawned, stretching his arms above his head and waving his staff teasingly. “He could squash the kiddos, no problem. But he won’t get much farther than that unarmed.”

“He brought his sword. Or is your staff so far up your rear that you did not notice?” Chevalier said, swatting Clavis’s staff away from his face.

Yves and Nokto whirled their heads towards the track ahead, struggling to keep their attention back on moving the plants. Is that what this was all about? Despite Jin’s domineering stature, they had never once seen their brother in a fight. But Jin also was the most knowledgeable about the contents of the exam, even if he did fail his. Was this the type of error-correcting that guaranteed Chevalier, Clavis, and Leon’s successes?

The path eventually fed into a wide clearing as large as one of the training arenas at the palace. Even in peak autumn, thick shrubs still flanked all sides like a fence except for one; a cavernous cliff plummeted behind where Jin stood, his arms folded and mouth stretched in an expectant grin.

“Are we really gonna fight?” Nokto said nervously, reaching for his sword.

“Alright! Loser gets thrown off the cliff!” Clavis whooped. “Chevalier, fight me!”

“Slow down, we’re learning defensive tactics today,” Jin said. “Magic has limitless potential to attack, right? So it stands to reason that the same should be true in defense. Far too often does a warlock fall into the assumption that one trumps the other in combat.”

“Spoken nearly verbatim from Elemental Charms and Combat,” Chevalier said unamused.

“That means he knows his stuff,” said Leon. “But then why’d ya bring us here too, Jin?”

“No, Chevalier’s right. There’s only so much you can learn from theory alone. We need experience to connect the dots. And I sure as sugar wouldn’t hurt a hair on the little guys’ heads, so that’s where you lot come in.” Jin crouched beside Yves and Nokto and patted their shoulders. “Yves, you’ll spar with Chevalier. And Nokto, you get Clavis.”

Yves froze on the spot.

“Oh, goodie…” Nokto mumbled.

“Just remember the basics, and you’ll be fine,” Jin said, then he turned to the warlocks. “And don’t you go blasting infernos at them. We’re out here to prevent unnecessary bystander injuries. But remember, this is still a highly flammable area.” He glared at Clavis, who seemed to get a chill and wrapped his cloak firmly around himself.

“Wait. Where’s my partner?” Leon asked. A quick lookover of the clearing proved Licht was nowhere to be seen.

“Maybe Leon’s branches pulled him up to the sky?” Nokto suggested.

“Or Clavis’s roots dragged him down below!” Yves gasped.

“Both,” Chevalier said, pointing over the cliff. Halfway down, Licht hung suspended and looking below, his shirt caught on a thorny branch tangled with crisscrossing roots.

“Licht!” Yves and Nokto cried.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Clavis called down to him.

“Something tells me the branch will snap if he so much as breathes wrong,” Leon said. Licht answered with a shaky thumbs up.

“Everyone, change of plans!” Jin bellowed. “Today we’re doing rescue training. And not a word of this gets to Sariel, got it? Okay, let’s go!” He drew his sword and leaped over the edge, jamming it into the cliffside as he descended.

Shocked, and slightly relieved, Yves and Nokto followed Jin’s lead, the scraping sounds of their blades cutting rock disappearing with them.

“Moron,” Chevalier huffed. The air around him began to crackle as he inhaled deeply and swung his staff in a circular motion. “He didn’t even evaluate the situation for a full minute. And they still wonder why he didn’t pass—”

“You heard the boss!” Clavis and Leon yelled. Together they seized each of Chevalier’s arms and hurled themselves over the cliff, leaving their staves behind.

Listen, it is liberating to write Chevalier, Clavis, and Leon as comic relief side characters. Trust me.

Tagging: @queengiuliettafirstlady @violettduchess @venulus @thewitchofbooks @leonscape @rhodolitesrose @venti-tangents @dear-sciaphilia @ikesenwritings @myonlyjknight @ladyofcrowsx @otomefoxystar @my-day6

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

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bb / gg, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Jeon Jungkook is the lead singer in a rock band and failed his Biology class last semester, so he has to take remedial classes over the summer. You're the Biology TA, double major in Psychology and Biology, watching him freak out over his make-up exam because he had overslept. Both of you are surrounded by rumors. Does the title stand for bad boy / good girl or bad bitch / good guy? Who knows.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; not the healthiest dynamic tbh; slight angst due to perceived unrequited love; smut (fem reader, D/s dynamics, begging, scratching / marking, choking, handjob (he is still wearing underwear), multiple orgasms, cowgirl, hair pulling, edging / orgasm denial, cock ring usage, m-masturbation, cum-eating); non-idol!BTS – rock singer, sub!Jungkook x studious, dom!reader

yes, it's SOWOOZOO JK, both the first yellow tropical look and the shredded black shirt look; for those who wanted him to be dom!JK, there is a moment when he is but not in the way you think because that's how I operate

Jeon Jungkook was a bad boy.

Wore too much black, dyed his hair too much, had tattoos, always had girls hanging around him. Sang in a rock band on the weekends, played electric guitar, played the game of how-many-numbers-can-I-get tonight? Never gave a girl his leather jacket to wear but was happy to buy her a drink and flirt with her until she got hot with arousal.

You were a good girl.

Always wore a blazer. Crisp white dress shirt and pleated skirt underneath, usually in a dark color. Sensible heels, but always heels. Did too many units a semester because you were double majoring in psychology and biology. Always arrived to class early, always turned in your assignments on time, always turned in your tests early and aced that shit. Took physics with calculus even though you didn’t have to because it was the harder one and you wanted a challenge.

Against the wall, shoving a fist into the neck, lips to lips, teeth snapping, hand travelling down, whimpering pleas and harsh growls, keep crying, I like it, ecstasy and pain, nails to skin. Tearing clothes off, biting, marking, I own you, and then, yes, you do, mouth and tongue, aching pleasure, cocked eyebrow, mocking the pathetic whines and cries, stopping right before the end, no, please, I’ve been good, and, you take what you get, hand fitting onto the neck, squeezing the sides, eyes rolling back, skin to skin, bruising slaps that would be seen tomorrow in the mirror, traced with shaking fingers and pants of an open mouth, moaning at the memory of sky-high pleasure while lightheaded and thoughtless, desperate to do it again.

There was a rumor.

Everyone liked Jeon Jungkook. He had two smiles, an endearing one and a teasing one. Both encapsulated the kind of person he was, honest and playful. He always sang with conviction, he rapped with savagery, and his lyrics were always from the heart. He always hung out with his bandmates after their performances at bars and interacted with those that came up to him. No one ever said Jungkook was mean or rude in any way.

And yet.

There was a rumor.

A rumor that Jeon Jungkook was taken.

He was the kind of guy that always made sure a drunk girl got home safe even though he didn’t know them. Paid for their taxi and everything. He focused a lot on his music and writing lyrics he thought would connect with others while taking into account his band members. He always told the truth if a girl confessed to him, saying he wasn’t looking right now, that he was very sorry if she thought otherwise, that there was someone he was already interested in.

“Oi.”

You slammed a hand onto the tabletop and Jeon Jungkook jumped, the shredded black shirt he was wearing falling down his shoulder, revealing his ink black tattoos on his tan skin. He was wearing a black tank top underneath.

“What’s with you? You missed the exam for your remedial class and you’ve spent the past ten minutes spacing out at your make-up exam,” you barked, pointing to his empty exam sheet. “You haven’t even filled out you name.”

Jungkook swallowed hard. “S… Sorry.”

You frowned. Why was he apologizing to you? Honestly, why did you sign up for this summer TA position again? Oh, right, money and credits. Hmph. It was really just an excuse for the professor to slack off while you did the tedious things like grading and watching over idiots that skipped class. Sorry, overslept. Hung over, probably, since this was the Jeon Jungkook. Rockstar, hottie, famous in his own way.

Whatever.

He could be Jesus Christ and you would still be scolding him for missing his remedial Biology exam.

“Fill out your name so at least I can fail you properly.”

Not that it mattered, since you knew who he was. He didn’t know you knew who he was, and you had zero incentive to inform him that you were indeed aware of the existence of black-haired, tattooed, chiseled-jaw, sparkly-eyed Jeon Jungkook, all due to the constant snide remarks that followed you in your wake.

You wouldn’t be such a bitch if a guy like Jeon Jungkook put you in your place.

Who the fuck was Jeon Jungkook?

This guy, this weirdo about to fail his fucking Biology exam in front of your face.

Impatiently, you rolled up the sleeves of your gray blazer and grabbed a chair, dragging it up to the table. You snapped the chair down and sat in it, smoothing your skirt. You liked to be neat. Even though university didn’t have a uniform, you liked to keep some sort of uniform for yourself. There was a sense of security in knowing you didn’t have to select an outfit every morning. Today, white dress shirt, gray blazer, pleated black skirt that hit slightly higher than mid-thigh. Every other outfit was some variation of this and, in the winter, you wore thick stockings.

You clicked your heels together under the table sharply.

He flinched at the sound.

Jungkook wasn’t looking at you. He was mumbling at his paper.

“I… I think I studied the wrong chapters…”

You clicked your tongue. Jeez.

His hand was shaking so bad that his pen was practically vibrating. You leaned over the table, grabbing his fist to still it.

“Stop.”

Your bare knees hit his bare knees, mostly because he was wearing black jeans with giant holes in them. Jungkook froze, head snapping up, silver earrings jangling, black hair flying, undercut visible for a second.

“You want to pass this class or what?”

He nodded quickly in response.

“Good. I want to get out of here. Keep your mouth shut. Answer to the first question is A.”

His eyes widened.

“Are you… helping me cheat?” he whispered, terrified.

You cocked your head, letting go of his hand. “You said you studied the wrong chapters. I’m not spending forty-five minutes of my life to watch you panic and then ten minutes more failing you,” you replied lowly, dangerous edge to your voice.

“I… couldn’t… I mean…”

You shoved his knees open with yours, narrowing your eyes as he yelped, pleading look in those brown doe eyes. You pressed your knees on the inside of his thighs, keeping them open.

“Answer to the second question is C.”

When Jungkook didn’t move, you reached over and cupped his chin. Felt his racing heartbeat pounding through his veins, coursing through your fingertips. Stared deep into those eyes, lowering the octave of your voice, keeping his thighs spread for you under the table.

“Listen to me,” you murmured softly. “Okay, Jungkook?”

“O… Okay…”

And he did.

There was a rumor.

Nobody liked you. Maybe it was because of your high scores ruining the class test average. Maybe it was the dismissive way you spoke to people, almost demeaning. Most likely it was a combination of the two. Students talked behind your back all the time, spreading rumors. Friends? What friends? You had an average of twenty class credits a semester. You didn’t have time to make friends. And besides, why try to make friends when clearly nobody wanted to be your friend?

And yet.

There was a rumor.

You ignored such things. You didn’t need such distractions.

“It would be too suspicious if you got full marks. This score is high enough.”

“O… Okay…”

“Get on the table.”

Jungkook scrambled on the wooden tabletop as you pushed his exam aside. You were still sitting in your chair. Your head tilted, eyebrow lifting at his speedy response to your rather suspicious request.

“You listened.”

He blinked at you. “Uh… yeah?”

Silence.

“Why?” you finally said.

Jungkook gulped. “Be… because you asked,” he mumbled, knees on the table, hands clutching his knees.

“You can just walk out and report me.”

He shook his head quickly, black hair flying everywhere. “I don’t want to.”

Your other eyebrow raised. He chewed on his lip, a flash of pink tongue in his movement.

“Tell me what you want. I’ll do it.”

Well.

You decided to test his conviction.

“Edge of the table. Spread your legs for me.”

Instantly, obediently, Jeon Jungkook surprised you by doing it, putting each leg on either side of you, chunky black sneakers hanging down. Shredded black shirt open, hands behind his ass, towering over you, and yet his eyes were watching you, waiting for more, begging for instruction.

“Hm.”

You raised your chin, seeing his impressively muscular thighs and body displayed for you to take. He was so close you could smell his clean, dreamy scent, like a meadow in summer dusk, surrounded by peeking stars and blinking fireflies. Interesting.

But you didn’t need the distraction.

“That’s it. You can go now,” you said dismissively, about to push your chair back.

His legs closed in, pressing firmly into your upper arms. Your eyes flickered up to him.

Jungkook shook his head very slowly.

“Do what you want.”

You saw his chest rise and fall, his silvery voice deepening, pupils expanding.

“I know you want to do something to me.”

His erection was bulging against the zipper of his black jeans. Your eyes went back to his face. He shivered at your sharp stare. All of this was happening in an otherwise empty lecture hall, with you and Jungkook at the very bottom.

Just you and him.

You placed your hands on his thighs. He jumped a little, but scooted closer to you. You slid your hands up. You undid the button of his jeans, scrutinizing those brown eyes. He raised his hips to help you as you pulled the zipper down.

“You don’t know me,” you finally said, no inflection in your voice.

He didn’t look away. “I don’t care.”

“Hmm.” You smirked. “Bad boy, aren’t you?”

Jungkook shook his head slightly, but didn’t break eye contact as you pulled his pants to his knees and reached for his black boxer briefs. “No. I’m a good guy. I want to give you what you want.” You hooked your fingers over the waistband and nicked his skin with your nails, making him gasp, the pleasure evident in his tone. He did not try to hide it from you. “I want to be good for you.”

“Why is that?”

He hung his head a little.

“Something about… how you make me feel…” he muttered. His gaze finally faltered. You reached up and righted his chin, forcing him to look at you. Saw that Jungkook had a mole under his mouth, perfectly in the center. He had a nice shape to his pink lips. You tapped his cheek, nudging him to elaborate. “You… You’re so pretty… and smart… Everyone looks up to you because you have such good grades…”

You doubted that.

Jungkook probably had no idea that most of the school hated your guts.

You didn’t have classes with Jungkook, but you were sure he knew your name because your name was posted on the Dean’s List of the highest-ranking students of the university every semester. Also, you weren’t hard to miss. Every student moved out of your way when you walked through the halls, whispering behind their hands.

Jungkook brought you back to the present.

“I feel,” he whispered, voice trembling, gaze locking with yours. “I feel like I want to be on my knees for you.”

His skin was warm under your nails.

“Like this is where I belong, in your hands.”

You stood up.

Jungkook started, turning into a tight squeak as you placed your hand on his chest and pushed him down.

“Lift up your shirt with both hands.”

He did was he was told, revealing his toned abs and the lower half of his pecs, biting his lip, clutching onto his tank top, ears turning red as he craned his head to look down at you. You didn’t give him any satisfying response. His tan skin seemed to glow under the overhead lights. You studied his face.

Reached up and began to rub his erection through his underwear.

“A… ah…”

“Gonna make you cum like this.”

He shook his head quickly. “P… Please, no…”

You felt him swell and twitch under your hand. He was pretty big. Thick. Pretty boy with a pretty dick, probably. You rubbed the head with your palm, feeling his pre-cum leaking through the thin fabric. He wasn’t kidding when he said you made him feel some kind of way.

“Why not? Make you cum in your underwear and then you have to go all the way home covered in it. All dirty, just for me.”

His handsome face twisted with sinful pleasure at your suggestion, whimpers in his throat. His cock jerked with need, wanting it.

“O… Okay. Whatever you want.”

So obedient.

“So obedient, Jungkook,” you purred, rubbing faster.

He nodded. “For you. Only for you. Just for you.”

Was it just saying those things because he thought that was what you wanted to hear? Or was that how he actually felt? Surely not the latter, considering he didn’t really know you. You leaned over him, placing your free elbow on the table to stabilize yourself. You hadn’t even kissed him.

“You’re so hard for me,” your drawled, lowering your head, letting your warm breath float down onto his skin. “You want to cum for me, don’t you?”

“Y… yes, please…”

“You want to be my toy?”

You pressed your lips to his bellybutton, feeling the smoothness of his skin, tasting it. He moaned at your kiss, your swift tongue flickering out to that delicious skin, whining when your teeth nipped at the softness. Fuck, he tasted so good that you wanted to mark him. Looked so fucking good that you wanted to mess him up, mar him with temporary imperfections on the perfection that was Jeon Jungkook.

“Yes…”

With breathless, lustful conviction.

You licked up his abs, increasing the intensity and speed of rubbing the engorged head of his cock, the pre-cum already soaked through and creating a slippery surface, turning Jungkook’s pitched whines to deep moans, a melody that filled up the entire lecture hall until was the only thing you could hear, Jungkook’s moans as you bit his skin, his moans as you sucked on his skin, moans as you kissed the hard muscle, cries for more at you left marks, pleading for you, sweet and beautiful, clutching his shirt so tight that his knuckles were white, the black tattoos of his right hand standing out, his cock throbbing in your hand, his hips rising to hump your palm, your name on his lips, over and over and over.

“Gonna… gonna cum…” he panted, sniffing slightly, cheeks flushing pink. “Gonna cum like how you want me to, all over my underwear…”

Your fingertips touched his side, seeing him stiffen and then shudder at your gentle caress.

“Do it,” you murmured. “Show me how good you are at listening, Jungkook.”

He bit his lower lip, jaw clenching, squeezing his eyes shut, tipping his head back into the tabletop, whining your name in his chest, your palm working him, slick and hot and hard, pulsating under your roughness. With a sharp moan, his lower lip popped out of his teeth, dark red and swollen, small mole quivering.

“F-Fuck…!”

You felt it and heard it, the unmistakable jolt and squelch as his orgasm splattered inside his boxer briefs, drenching the fabric, drenching your hand, his embarrassed whines as he realized what he had done but still humping your hand, forcing out every last twitch of dribbling cum, causing you to smear it everywhere, coating the sensitive head and adding to the pleasure, his cheeks flushed red, eyes squeezed shut to savor the pleasure and avoid looking at you.

“Shh…”

You crawled onto the table, still holding his cock through his soiled underwear, squeezing it, free hand slipping under his head and lifting him, his eyes weakly opening, scared and anxious, but all you did was lean down and kiss him, pressing your lips to that pure softness, exhaling his name into his mouth, his scent staining your hand, his cologne filling your nose, your whisper in his throat.

“Time for you to go home.”

Jungkook thought you would tell everyone.

You did no such thing.

Instead, you ignored him.

He would see you three times a week and, three times a week, you arrived with the professor and left with the professor. Jungkook tried much harder to attend classes, but you seemed not to care either way. He would come to the front and collect his assignment and find that you had marked it up exactly like everyone else, red marks all over his incorrect answers. You didn’t even look in his direction.

The next exam was coming up quickly.

Part of him considered skipping exam day to have one-on-one time with you again.

“Jungkook.”

He jumped, jerking his head towards the hall, confused. Somehow, he had heard your voice. Or rather, did he imagine it? His teeth sunk into his lip, placing a hand on his forehead, confused. His head was confused. He couldn’t think straight. Why had he done such an embarrassing thing with you? Even you had told him to leave and report you. But Jungkook just couldn’t. Not then and not now. He had asked for it.

He still wanted it.

Nobody knew. Everybody thought he was a cocky, womanizing playboy. And he was, but not because of the sex. It was only because he was bored and that was all he could get. There was power in being on top.

And there was power in letting go.

You were bad for him.

He was a good guy.

You were a bad bitch.

And nobody knew.

A hand slapped down on his shoulder and yanked him around, the loose short sleeves of his yellow tropical shirt flaring out, making his sunglasses rattle on his face. You narrowed your eyes at him. Instant shivers down his spine at your stern gaze.

“Are you deaf?” you snapped. “I’ve been calling your name for the past minute.”

“I… S-Sor–”

You waved a hand dismissively, grabbing his right hand and slapping down a post-it into it.

“Chapters for the exam, including the date and time. Do not miss it this time. I will not let you make it up and fail you on the spot.”

You turned on your heel, letting go of his hand.

His left one shot out and circled around your arm, his rings pressing into your skin.

“Wait.”

You jerked your head towards him, glaring sharply. “Don’t touch me.”

And you yanked your arm out of his grasp, but his legs made the choice for him, following your swift strides, his backpack hanging off one shoulder, clutching the post-it and his last strands of sanity.

“Please, wait.”

“What?” was your curt response, not looking back at him.

“Please do it again,” he gasped breathlessly, unable to stop himself.

“Do what?”

“Have your way with me.”

You stopped walking.

Jungkook walked straight into your back and banged his nose on your head. He winced, stepping back and rubbing it gingerly. He didn’t register you turning around until it was too late and you were right in his face. You raised your chin and eyebrow simultaneously.

“No.”

He blinked rapidly, his tinted sunglasses halfway down the bridge of his nose.

“W… Why? Did you not like it? Was… was I bad?”

You let out an amused scoff.

The side of your lips curved upwards.

He had made you smile, even if only a little bit. Just that small thing was enough to feed his courage.

“I…” Jungkook coughed, clearing his throat before he spoke again, voice still a soft whisper in his embarrassment even though no one was around to eavesdrop. “I can be better. I can do better.”

Silence.

He thought you were going to walk away again.

You reached up and plucked his glasses off his nose. Folded them neatly and tucked them in his tropical shirt pocket. Then your eyes found his again and he knew something was different. He could see you clearly now, his vision no longer clouded by sienna.

Now, Jungkook could no longer stop it.

He could feel it all over him, coursing through his veins, arousal like fire. Something about you and something about him. Jungkook could sense the danger, but he didn’t want to run even though he knew he should. He had heard the rumors surrounding you. They could be true.

And yet.

“I want it,” Jungkook breathed, inviting himself into the danger. “I want you. I want to be your toy.”

Your discerning expression didn’t change.

You reached up and gripped his chin, digging your nails into his soft skin.

He whimpered in his chest, moving closer to you.

“What’s my name?”

His brows furrowed, saying your name hesitantly.

You pulled his chin down so he was eye-level.

“Next time you say my name, I will be choking it out of you.”

Everyone thought Jeon Jungkook was the kind of guy to grip your wrist with his left hand and your throat in his right, his lips against your ear and his sweaty chest against your back as you slapped your ass into his crotch and fucked yourself with his rock-hard cock, his smirk in your ear as he provided you with a certain type of encouragement.

“That’s right, you want this dick, don’t you? Show me. Prove to me you want it.”

His fingertips tightening against the sides of your neck, listening to your pathetic cries and moans as you tried to squirm against him, brain running out of oxygen due to lack of blood, running out of thoughts, running out of pleas as Jungkook gripped your wrist, deep snarl against your hair as he roughly finished himself off using your body because that’s all you were, someone to be used by him and nothing more, neck suddenly released with a breathless gasp and shoved face first into the sheets with his right hand splayed on your back, his tattoos and your orgasm crashing down on you, his growls staining the air and a fierce jerk of his hips to spill into your tight hole and leave you moments after, nothing but a discarded toy in his eyes.

You thought.

That was what everyone thought when Jeon Jungkook stood on stage, flipping his dark violet microphone between verses and smirking like a devil, truly in command of every thought and every pair of eyes on him, surrounded by a heavy bass line and deafening drums, guitar solo tearing through the moment to emphasize the next of his lips nearing the mic again, entrancing the crowd with his beautiful lips and talented tongue.

No one knew.

You were riding him hard and fast, torn condom wrappers and used condoms littering his bed, back-to-back orgasms, his head pressed into his pillows, your hand around his neck, the other leaving long lines down his chest, scratching him so hard that it dotted red, blooming lines of pain.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop, f-fuck…”

Jungkook was hoarsely whispering, clutching his sheets, black hair soaked with sweat, raising his chest to your nails, whimpering, punish me, punish me, punish me, and you muttered plainly with a sharp edge, you talk too much, your grip tightening again, pressing onto the sides of his neck, cutting off the blood flow, and Jungkook moaned gratefully, eyelids fluttering, the slap of your hips to his louder and louder, filling up his whole bedroom, rattling his bedframe, fucking him so hard he was slowly sliding up to his headboard.

Your name fell from his lips in pure ecstasy, back arching to shove his whole length fully into you, thick and hard and twitching with need, your slick walls clamping down on him, fitting to him with a hiss. He began to match you, breathless, lightheaded, world hazy, moaning from deep in his chest, I love you, and your reply was only tightening your grip, your hand and your pussy, harder, harder, harder.

“Aren’t you such a good guy?” you scoffed sarcastically, letting up for only a second to let him reply, blood rocketing back into his brain, flooding him with oxygen, and Jungkook sucked in a lungful of air, reeling.

“N-No…” he panted. “You’re the good girl… you’re always s-so… so good to me…”

His eyes locked with yours hazy with lust and love. You almost looked away out of instinct.

“You a-always remember… what I like…” he managed to choke out.

You left him when you were done using him.

You pretended he didn’t say those words to you. There was no point in acknowledging the nonsense that he said in the middle of being choked and barely functioning. You tapped your pencil against your textbook.

You caught yourself thinking about him.

Jeon Jungkook.

Your eyes flickered to the clock. Late at night on a Friday. He was probably at a bar. You watched the second hand of your plain silver clock tick, tick away. You never asked to watch him and his band perform even though Jungkook always made it a point to text you the address and the time.

It was obvious Jungkook didn’t want you to be his secret.

He wasn’t really your secret either. You just saw no benefit to letting anyone know there was a connection between you and Jeon Jungkook. After all, you were just using him.

You stopped tapping your pencil.

Stared at the second hand.

Tick.

Heard the voices of the rumors poisoning you, saying the things they said.

She thinks she’s so much better than everyone else because she’s a nerd.

The only reason she has good grades is because she fucked that one professor.

I heard she dated him.

I mean, there’s a reason he left in the middle of the semester, right?

He had a wife!

Snap.

Your eyes flickered down.

The tip of your pencil lead rolled across the page, leaving tiny pinpricks of granite.

There was never any evidence because nothing happened. Nothing happened between you and said psychology professor. He left in the middle of the semester because his wife had a miscarriage and he wanted to be with her. It had nothing to do with you. You had long discussions with him about life and existentialism, hanging out during his office hours.

Sometimes, you felt bad.

Had you kept him from his wife? Would it have not happened if he just skipped his office hours and didn’t spend them talking to you? These were irrational, foolish thoughts. They made you guilty even when there was nothing to be guilty about.

He was a nice guy, mid-thirties. Everyone liked this professor.

They blamed you because they didn’t know.

Only you knew, because he told you with tears in his eyes and thanked you for being his student.

You didn’t tell anyone, because he did not owe you an explanation and you were not going to divulge someone’s personal business that they had shared with you in confidence. You watched your reputation crumble and fall apart, watched friends ostracize you, because you didn’t tell them anything and they didn’t believe you. You watched yourself turn bitter and hateful.

Just tell the truth.

There was no truth to be told.

You put your pencil down.

Closed your eyes.

Remembered Jungkook’s face.

Your hands were in his hair, pulling hard. His hot breath was in your face, arms shaking as he held himself up, fucking you into his mattress with whines in his chest, begging you, begging you, begging you.

“P-Please… let me cum, please…”

You liked to watch the sweat clinging to his high cheekbones and neck, jaw glistening with tension, feeling his strong body between your legs, his twitching hardness sliding into you repeatedly in rough, hard smacks, squeezing him every time he was fully sheathed inside you, vibrations coursing through you every time he came down.

“Not until I’m done,” you growled and he whimpered, pleading look in those brown doe eyes, black pupils expanded, unable to cum because a vibrating cock ring was restricting his orgasm, keeping him hard but unable to climax, sending thundering pleasure through him and into you. He watched helplessly as you gripped his hair, hissing sharply as another wave of pleasure overtook you, closing your eyes to savor it, savor his swollen cock twitching inside you as he felt the intense massage of your pussy walls closing around him, throbbing around the head and driving him insane, moaning pathetically because he couldn’t follow suit no matter how desperate he was.

Jungkook didn’t ask if you were done.

He just kept going because you told him he couldn’t cum until you were done.

And you didn’t say you were done.

You stared into those brown orbs, hazy with lust and full of conviction to be good for you.

Desperate to be the best and the only one, not knowing there was no one else because no one else wanted you like the way Jeon Jungkook wanted you.

“Pull out.”

“B-But…”

“You heard me,” you exhaled, throbs of pleasure still trembling through you. Your hands slid down, cupping his chin, nails digging into his sweaty cheeks. “Obey.”

With a pained whine, Jungkook obeyed, pulling out of you, his cock covered in your juices, wearing a condom and the black cock ring. You reached over with one hand to press the button on the remote to turn in off.

“Take it all off. Let me see your cock.”

He reached down and slowly pulled the cock ring off, taking the condom with it, whimpering at the sensitivity, his tone hitting a lovely pitched groan as the silicone squeezed the base of the head. His whole body was shaking as it fell from his hands, the veins on his length standing out, head purple-red and angry, white pre-cum slowly beading at the tip, and his face, looking down at you, waiting for your next move.

Cock waiting to be used.

You tapped your chest.

“Cum on my tits.”

“B-But–”

You cut him off.

“You’re going to cum on my tits and then you’re going to lick it off while I watch.”

He listened.

Jungkook straddled your waist with his thighs, muscular and defined, right hand wrapping around his cock, sweat making the tattoos on his forearm and shoulder glow in the low light, smelling like sex and musk, his core tightening as he touched his overstimulated length, using the lube of the condom and his own pre-cum to add to the pleasure as he began to stroke himself, moaning as you lifted your hands and cupped your breasts, pushing them together, his eyes on the curve of your cleavage and points of your hard nipples sticking out, and then your face, an indifferent look with a cocked eyebrow, taunting him, unimpressed by his timid grip on his cock, so he squeezed harder, tighter, embarrassing cries falling from his mouth, living for the smirk that slowly began to form on your lips.

It empowered him somehow, that smirk, the little inkling of satisfaction that Jungkook wanted, needed, craved, knowing he was doing well, being good, furiously pumping his aching cock over your pressed-together tits and he couldn’t last, couldn’t help it, too overstimulated and too turned on, too in love with this to prevent himself from tipping over with a hot gasp, spilling streams of sticky white lines over your breasts, spreading them everywhere, making a huge mess because he wanted a huge mess to clean up, shoving the head into your cleavage and shuddering at the sensation of warmth to his scorching heat, able to feel the pulse of the engorged tip dripping out what was left, shivers up and down his spine, the words falling from his mouth that he never stopped saying even though you never acknowledged them.

“I... l-love you…”

He stayed like that for nearly a full minute, but you didn’t tell him to get off.

His eyes were closed, savoring the feeling.

Slowly, Jungkook gingerly removed himself, lowering his body over yours, tongue sliding out, touching your skin covered in his cum, his taste, mine, no one else’s, him on you, lapping it up, salty and bitter and yet he loved it, loved that you told him to do it, loved that you let him paint your skin with his orgasm and now his saliva. He didn’t care that you never said anything to his I love you, didn’t care that you seemed to pretend he never said it, because he would continue saying it when he was with you, hopeless as it was.

It was the small things that kept him going, sucking his own cum off your nipple and wrapping his lips around it, hearing your soft sigh of pleasure, feeling the tap on his thigh that instructed him to scoot up, the small thing of your hand closing in on his spent cock, sending sparks of pain but also pleasure, moaning into your skin as you massaged his balls with your fingers, knowing that he could take more pressure and roughness because he had just came, the small thing of your thumb rubbing the sensitive slit, his face pressing into your breasts, smearing his cheek with his cum and saliva, sliding across your slick skin because of the intensity of the high it gave him, the pleasure and the pain, his right arm coming up to wrap around you, tattoos cradling your torso.

“I love you…” he whispered to your racing heart under his ear, lost in the rhythm of your heartbeat and the firmness of your touch. Jungkook did not care if you hated him saying it.

He would continue saying it as long as he was with you.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing…?”

“Hmm.”

He placed his hand over the bottom of his phone and smiled at the cute girl that was talking to him at the bar.

“Sorry. I have to take this call. It’s important to me.”

He didn’t hear her response, because he backed away, bowing lightly, pressing his phone back to his ear.

“Ah, never mind, Jungkook.”

“No, no. What is it? Tell me.”

“You’re at a noisy place. It’s Saturday night.”

Jungkook pushed through the people, mumbling his apologies and straining to hear your voice over the thundering bass. “I finished. Well, we finished. We’re only drinking. I can leave at any time. I’ll just text the guys to bring my equipment back for me. Where are you?”

“Forget it.”

He opened the door of the club as the dial tone rang in his ear.

Looked up.

Your hand dropped to your side. You were still in your white dress shirt and navy skirt, dressed exactly like you were when at school minus the blazer. Jungkook’s eyes widened. He was in a torn-up long-sleeve shirt with the right sleeve removed, showing off his tattoos. His black hair was wild and half-wet, and he was wearing tight leather pants.

You clicked your tongue.

“I said forget it,” you repeated hollowly.

You sighed and turned around, skirt swishing in your wake.

“Wait, I’ll come with you–”

“Go back to where you belong, Jungkook.”

His hand closed around your forearm, holding tight.

“I belong with you.”

You stopped walking, silent.

“What is it? Tell me.”

You scowled. “It’s dumb.”

“So am I, remember?” he chuckled, his hand slipping down, squeezing yours. “I’m not very good at school.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment. Cars and people brushed past, but Jungkook was focused onto on your stillness, watching your eyes seemed to be thinking about many things. You hadn’t pulled your hand out of his yet. By now, Jungkook knew that if you didn’t want something, you wouldn’t be shy about telling him right away.

You started walking again. Jungkook was still holding your hand.

“It was just a moment of weakness,” you mumbled under your breath.

“A guy…?”

You didn’t answer.

Jungkook squeezed your hand. “It’s okay,” he murmured tightly. “I understand.”

He did not. He wanted to cry.

Your eyes shot to him, pinning him in place. “You don’t understand, Jeon Jungkook. You understand nothing.” You pulled your hand out of his and Jungkook let go, trying to hold his pain, trying not to breathe because he was preparing himself for the inevitable, the moment you were going to break his heart and, if it was right here and right now, then so be it, because he had said how he felt repeatedly and there was nothing more he could do than that.

He loved you so, so bad.

Jungkook knew he shouldn’t, that it was madness, but he did anyway.

But you surprised him.

Your sharp gaze softened.

“You know what they say about me. You have to know,” you exhaled, shaking your head. “You must know the rumors.”

Good girl gone bad.

Jungkook frowned. “About you and the professor?”

He watched your jaw clench.

“Does it matter?” he asked.

Your eyes shifted, not quite looking at him.

“Whether something did or didn’t happen, what does that have to do with me?”

And now you looked at him, guarded, not letting him know your thoughts.

“You…” He swallowed, trying to press the lump down in his throat. “You’re just using me, right? It doesn’t… doesn’t really matter, because in the end I don’t matter to you anyway… right?”

He did not want to cry and yet he did, because he knew he loved you. It was the small things, the way you never let up on him even in class, the way you picked days that were never the weekend and never before exams, the way you would brush your fingertips on his knuckles before leaving when you thought he was asleep, the way on the last time, the last time you were together, that you pressed your lips to his forehead when you thought he was asleep, running your fingers through his hair.

Jungkook was standing outside this bar and there were people he knew walking past, seeing you and him, but he kept his eyes on you, because the only one that mattered was you.

The one he belonged to was you.

He had decided that when he climbed onto the table that day.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and let out a heavy breath. “If people say things about you, then they say things about you. Whether it’s the truth or not doesn’t change the fact I love you. It doesn’t make me love you less,” Jungkook said, speaking at his usual volume, because there was no reason to whisper the truth. “Even if it’s pointless and crazy, I want to be with you until the day you don’t want to be with me.”

His smiled and blinked back tears.

“Even if that day is today, I will never regret it.”

In this cruel summer, you could have ruined his reputation. You could have told everyone the kind of person he really was and you didn’t. You could have spread embarrassing stories of the things you made him do and you didn’t.

Even if he didn’t matter to you, Jungkook was confident that you weren’t a malicious person.

You rubbed your forehead. “The rumors will come to you.”

Jungkook laughed. “So what? I heard a rumor that I removed two ribs so I could suck my own dick. I admit, I considered doing it after hearing that.”

You scowled, but Jungkook only smiled in return. He could see the tension falling from your face with his comment. You clicked your tongue and tilted your head, as if to say, can’t be helped.

“There’s no other guy,” you muttered. “There’s just you and you’re dumb.”

Jungkook blinked rapidly, confused.

“You say it over and over and make me think about it all the time.” You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair. “I’m not a good girl. People pushed me away and I stayed there instead of trying to repair the burned bridges. I don’t even think I want to repair them. Who knows what will happen next? I don’t think it would be a good idea to put you through that shit.”

You sucked on the inside of your cheek, looking at him apologetically.

“You’re not the bad boy everyone says you are. You’re a good guy. You should find a good girl.”

Is that what you think? Jungkook chuckled, taking out his hand and rubbing his nose thoughtfully.

“I don’t want a good girl.”

He stepped toward you, lowering his hand and his head so that he was eye level with you.

“I love a bad bitch who can push me around and makes me their toy.”

He tilted his head, small curve on those beautiful lips, tiny mole underneath appearing with every smile.

“Which can only be you, you know.”

Jungkook didn’t try to kiss you. He only wanted to look into your eyes so you knew his conviction.

“I love you.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’ve heard you say it.”

He nodded. “And I’m going to keep saying it until the day you leave me.”

Silence.

Ah.

Your eyebrow lowered and you gave him an indifferent look.

“Hm. I wonder when that will be, Jungkook.”

You leaned in, but before you kissed him, he heard the whisper against his lips, felt the shape of yours as they brushed against his, words he prepared himself to never hear from you, words that he thought you would never say, and that was fine with him, because you showed it, and that was enough.

He thought.

“I love you.”

And then your lips on his and his tears fell onto your cheeks because Jungkook wanted to cry all this time and he could not stop now, knowing that he was so, so in love with you and you finally, finally said it back to him.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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alinastracker · 3 years

Note

If you’re still doing the prompts I have oneeeee hehe

" i mean... i-i'm cool with sharing the bed if you are. "

you got it baby 🥰

but i know something’s starting right now

It’s a sweltering Ravkan summer day, but nothing brings heat to her body like watching Mal in the pool, water droplets racing down his chest. His shaggy hair is a mop on his head, and she realizes this is what he must look like in the shower.

This is exactly why she didn’t want to bring him on the trip.

It’s the first week of July, and for the past three years, that’s meant a trip to the Os Alta Resort with Genya and Zoya. It’s a way for them to relax after exams and catch up now that they all attend different schools. But at the end of May, the two of them had FaceTimed her about a change for this year.

“We were thinking of taking the boys with,” Genya says gently, nervous for her reaction.

Zoya is frank as ever. “It’s cheaper that way. Besides, after all this long distance, I could use a week of uninterrupted fuc—”

“Zoya!”

“Relax, Starkov. We’re all adults here.”

“Anyway,” Genya cuts in. “We’re just telling you in case you wanted to bring someone, too. Maybe Mal?”

“Mal and I aren’t dating.”

Only in her dreams.

“Might as well be,” Zoya mutters.

So in the choice between bringing Mal on what has basically turned into a couple’s retreat and going to said couple’s retreat alone, she’s chosen the former. It would be fine. Mal knows her friends. Him and Nikolai like to talk sports. Maybe it’ll be a little weird, being the only non-couple, but they could deal.

It would have been fine, if it weren’t for this morning’s check in.

"So it looks like we have you booked for three single rooms," the concierge says.

Alina frowns. "One of those should be a double."

The concierge checks again, each click of his mouse making her anxiety rise. He frowns. "Sorry, miss. It's showing me all singles."

"It's fine," Mal says. "Could we just upgrade it to a double, then?"

"Er, I'm afraid we're all booked, sir."

Nikolai claps his hands together, cheerful as ever at Zoya's side. "Well, I'll just switch with Alina, and Mal and I can — shit, Zoy!"

Zoya had stomped on his foot.

"We are not switching shit," she hisses under her breath.

Nikolai sighs. "My deadly dearest, certainly it's no big deal—"

"I bought us a new toy for this trip. We are not switching."

There is a brief moment where everyone freezes, then Genya groans, shaking her head as she murmurs apologies to the concierge, who is trying hard to pretend he hasn’t heard a thing. The tips of Mal's ears go red, and Alina is sure hers match. David, lost in his audiobook, is oblivious to all of it.

Nikolai clears his throat and turns to the two of them with a sheepish grin. "Sorry, mate. You're on your own."

The concierge slowly raises a finger and says, "We might be able to supply a cot?"

Alina can feel everyone's eyes on her, which is the last thing she ever wants. She has the strong desire to curl in on herself, but that only really works in the winter when she dons large coats and sweaters. But it’s summer, and she is in only a mustard yellow crop top and jean shorts, though she suddenly feels as exposed as if she were completely naked.

Mal takes one look at her and gently nudges his foot against hers. "I mean . . . I'm cool with sharing the bed if you are?"

Her brain is looking for anyway out of this whole conversation, so she nods.

So far, they have been in their room once to drop off their things and change into bathing suits, both of them dancing around the bed without ever touching it. The air in the room feels charged even with sunlight still pouring in. What would tonight be like?

More importantly, how was she supposed to handle sleeping beside him when she can’t even handle watching him in the pool?

Genya climbs on Mal’s shoulders for a game of chicken — David is, unsurprisingly, not in the pool, but sitting beside Alina on a lounge chair. She feels a pang of something like jealousy as she watches the game commence, which cannot be more ridiculous.

They can’t avoid the night forever, and it comes much too quickly despite how long they spend mingling at the resort bar. In their room, Mal lets Alina use the bathroom first. A kind offer, she thinks, until she realizes it leaves her to stake out a spot on the bed first. No more dancing.

Left side or right? Does Mal have a preference? Does she? How long until Mal finishes in the bathroom and comes out to see her staring at the bed like a mental person?

Right side, she chooses finally. She curls up on the left side of her body usually, so this way, she doesn’t have to face him as they sleep. Good call. As she untucks the covers from the bed, she secretly hopes to find something horrifying, like blood or bugs, so they can get a refund and leave. Sadly, it is a perfectly fine bed. Alina plops onto it and tucks herself in.

Mal finishes in the bathroom a few minutes later, and if he’s as rattled about their sleeping arrangement as she is, he does not show it. There’s plenty of space between them as he settles into bed. Maybe this won’t be as bad as she feared.

“Well, goodnight,” Mal says through a yawn.

“Goodnight,” Alina replies.

They each turn off their bedside lamps. Mal is softly snoring soon after, but Alina stays awake much too long for her liking, thinking of how close he is.

They fall into a similar routine for the next couple nights. During the day, all is fine. Their little group meshes well. Genya and Nikolai are often off together, both of them on a mission, it seems, to try every flavor of ice cream from Os Alta's ice cream bar. Or sometimes it’s Nikolai and Mal running off, joining a game of pool volleyball, both of them stupidly competitive. When Zoya gets annoyed with the overload of children at the waterpark, she joins David on one of the lounge chairs to read for a while — Zoya a smutty historical romance and David a nonfiction on modern space travel. We just shouldn't let Jeff Bezos come back, he argues to Genya later, while Zoya murmurs to Nikolai something she wants him to do to her that night.

Alina thanks the saints her room isn’t next to Zoya’s.

The trip is going so smoothly that she doesn’t realize what trouble Sunday brings with it. It’s always their favorite part of the trip: bottomless margarita night. They all have absolutely horrific, hilarious pictures and videos of themselves from the past three years thanks to bottomless margarita night at Os Alta. But the thought of being drunk like that while she’s sharing a bed with Mal?

Okay, so she just won’t drink tonight. Problem solved.

“You can’t not drink!” Zoya says, personally offended.

“Come on, it’s tradition!” Genya agrees.

But she’s determined to hold out. Only when she sees the others with their drinks, she decides one sip won’t hurt. One sip becomes one drink, and one drink becomes a couple. Soon enough, she’s drunk enough to sign herself up for karaoke, another Os Alta tradition.

“I dunno what I should siiiing,” she slurs, swaying lightly on her feet.

“I have the perfect song for you!” Genya cheers excitedly.

So that’s how she ends up on stage, drunk off her ass, horridly singing Taylor Swift’s We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together. She really gets into it, jumping and nailing the talking parts a little too well. But she can hear Genya and Zoya screaming the lyrics along with her, and it only encourages her.

Genya records a Snapchat of her performance, snickering to Mal and David about how she’s going to accidentally send it to the asshole Alina dated last year who’s still entirely too obsessed with her.

Nikolai is the only one of the boys drunk enough to sign up, taking the stage after Alina to perform a disgustingly off-key version of Queen’s Don’t Stop Me Now. They all agree that Freddie Mercury is rolling in his grave.

By the end of the night, the four of them are totally wasted. David, who had spent the night nursing one drink, his focus on getting Genya her drinks and ensuring that she didn’t trip over herself, has to help the aforementioned redhead up to their room. Nikolai and Zoya are a sight, both wickedly drunk, trying to help each other stay upright. Mal had only downed a couple drinks and is mostly sober, which Alina is very thankful for, as she can’t hold herself up to save her life. She nearly trips on absolutely nothing so many times that Mal finally scoops her into his arms, carrying her the rest of the way to the room. Alina giggles the whole way.

There’s no getting ready for bed that night. Mal sets her on the bed, and she resigns to sleeping in her red summer dress. When Mal joins her after having a shower, drunk Alina has no qualms curling up against him and sniffing him.

“Mm, you smell good,” she hums.

Mal chuckles even as he tenses. Alina has her arm around him and her face pressed into his side. He’s not sure he can breathe. She’s too drunk to notice the blush on his face.

“That’s probably just because you smell like alcohol,” he hedges.

Alina giggles and shakes her head. “No, you always smell good.”

He doesn’t know what to do with this information, but he does a lot of thinking instead of sleeping as Alina passes out next to him.

Monday morning brings with it a pounding headache for Alina. She prepares for the bright sunlight streaming through the window, but the room is dark when she opens her eyes. Mal isn’t beside her, but he left aspirin and a glass of water on the nightstand in addition to pulling out the blackout curtains. She falls in love with him a little bit more.

The day is a quiet one. The girls and Nikolai spend their time at the spa, Mal and David off doing saints know what. She gets the best massage of her life, and while her head still aches despite the pain pill, seeing Nikolai get his toenails painted bright red makes every sip she had last night worth it.

When they’re in the room again after dinner, tucking themselves into bed, Mal says, “You told me I smell good last night.”

Alina pauses. “I did?”

The night comes back to her. She totally told him he smelled good, and she had closed the space between them on the bed, curling up right next to him. She remembers all of it, suddenly and painfully.

“Oh, saints. Mal, I’m so sorry. I didn’t . . . I shouldn’t have—”

He cuts her off. “It’s okay, ‘Lina. You don’t have to apologize.”

“I don’t?”

Mal smiles an amused smile and leans over, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “No, you don’t. Not you. Never you.”

Alina is almost positive she can hear her heart pounding as Mal reaches for something tucked in the drawer of his nightstand.

“For you,” he says, handing her a long rectangular box. “Saw it today when I was out with David and I just— I thought of you.”

She can’t even process the image of Mal and David out shopping together, needing to open this damn box. With shaky fingers, she lifts the lid. Waiting for her inside is a dainty necklace with a gorgeous gold sun charm.

“Oh,” she says softly.

Mal blushes, and this time, Alina notices. “Do you like it?” he asks. “I just thought of you singing last night when I saw it. You’re so bright, Alina. All the time. Just like the sun.”

She has no idea what this confession means, or how she earned it from drunkenly telling him how good he smells — which his really quite good — but her heart has kicked into overdrive. She isn’t sure what, or how, but she knows something’s starting right now.

“I love it, Mal.” She turns so her back is facing him and hands over the necklace. “Will you help me put it on?”

He wraps the chain around her neck. The sun rests perfectly against her heart. She notices every little brush of his fingers against the back of her neck as Mal works the clasp.

When the necklace is secure, they both lay back down, noticeably closer this time. Not as close as last night, but close enough that their arms occasionally brush, close enough that she’ll end up kicking him during the night. Alina sleeps on her right side.

Their trip might be ending tomorrow, but something better was beginning tonight.

#malina #malina fanfic #fanfic #grishaverse fanfic #writing #my writing #THIS IS DAYS LATE BUT I KEPT STARTING THIS OVER BC I WASNT HAPPY WITH IT #also tried writing in present tense which i rarely write in so excuse if it's a mess lmao #short and sweet and not my best imo but i hope u still like it bb!!#cuddlingwithharry #if u spot the song reference (besides the obvious) u r superior

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nightswithkookmin · 3 years

Text

MONDAY, JANUARY 18TH: GOLDY'S LOG

I miss Suga. Scratch that. I miss Agust D. My spirit animal.

I've been thinking about him a lot lately, wondering if his injury isn't an exemption to military service. I wonder if he qualifies, in light of his injury, as an able body. I wonder what their law defines as able body.

I wonder if he passed the legal physical exam and health assessment test when he turned 19, since he's had that injury way before debut. Or if BTS have undergone that mandatory military service assessment since they are all past 19 and what their results are.

Jimin has chronic back pain too. That should qualify him for an exemption to military duty. He can still do desk work if it's that serious.

I should talk to ***** and look into South Korea's law on exemptions to military service.

Moon values the arts and culture industry. There's already been an extension for conscription for the benefit of BTS. Their success and longevity in the spot light perhaps influenced this decision. Should BTS maintain this momentum, an exemption would be inevitable I feel.

I miss them. They've been gone for too long. I'm worried about the impact this is going to have on their popularity if they disconnect from fans for so long or be mechanical about the way they connect with their fans.

I hate the limited access to them. But Scarcity increases the value of a product and it's not surprising if this is the approach BigHit is adopting in the wake of the pandemic.

Limited access not only raises value, it creates demand. Bang PD is a bigbrain marketing genius- I hate it.

They are taking a huge risk with this new marketing strategy. Personally, I'd stick to what works but then I am no marketing guru. Just a consumer who likes to play it safe. I guess I won't be getting hired anytime soon. Fuck.

It's all very fascinating.

What's equally fascinating is the shippers out here on these streets. The Jokers.

I... they confuse the hell out of me sometimes.

How are they going to question my rationality when I talk about moments I feel Jikook are having issues in their relationship or had broken up etc but then have no problem with and even applaud that same rationality when I talk about moments that has led me to believe there is lack of depth in Tae Kook's dynamics or that they are not real by any standard or that another ship in BTS isn't real.

Do I have two minds? Or are they more inclined to be selective in their beliefs based on their biases towards Jikook and against other ships? It's weird.

By the same lens I define Jikook as real, I define Tae Kook or any other ship that includes JK and Jimin as not real. And by that same lens if I feel Jikook aren't together then I'm wrong and irrational?

It really confounds me.

Not sure if they expect me to apply double standards to Jikook in those instances.

I don't think there is right and wrong opinions or perspective when it comes to shipping, but I think if they are right about me being wrong about my perspective on Jikook then I must be wrong about my perspective on any other ship in BTS as well.

I can't be right about one and wrong about another. I'm either right about all or wrong about all.

I can't be 'right' about Tae Kook having 'issues' in their bond in such a way I think it often bars them from fully nurturing their bond and developing depth to it but then be 'wrong' about Jikook also having issues that mess with their bond from time to time when it's the same measurement I use in accessing the depth of bond of both ships.

I really don't understand their way of thinking.

What is right and what is wrong and who decides on that?

I think we ought to substitute right and wrong with 'believe and believable.' The approach to such discourse should be about what one is willing to believe or not believe about certain discussions: I believe this. I don't believe that. Because believes stem from our personal biases towards a subject.

And the people that come running to me with 'look, Jikook smiled at each other in On era so change your mind'

I would except I hear this debate all the time. I wonder if they realize they sound exactly like the Tuktukkers in my DMs trying to convince me Tae Kook is real.

'Look Tae sat on JK's laps! How can you say there is no depth to Tae kook' ' He squished JK's cheeks' 'Jk said he wants to ride with Tae, if there was no depth why did he say he wanted to ride with him'

I have a feeling Soft Koo is back. The days of Terminator JK might be over. Too bad, I liked terminator JK. He was a bad ass.

I like that he is experimenting with his looks. But I'm glad his Ravi-esque phase is over. I wonder who he is drawing inspiration from this time. He reminds me of Jimin though. There is something peaceful and serene about his looks.

Can't really tell much because Bighit is sitting on tons of footages. I think I need to send a truck to Bang PD HQ.

I don't like that Jimin posted a Vhopemin photo for Tae's birthday. It was cute and all but I don't like it. That shit felt passive aggressive as fuxk. Lmho. What, he didn't have a V or Vmin photo in his gallery? Sounds like someone didn't put much effort in their VMin agenda for this post.

I wonder if he will keep the same energy come JK's birthday. I mean both him and Tae didn't post for him💀

May be I'm reaching on this one. But a single post where V was not even the focus of the post... I think his birthday means a lot to him and he enjoys when people shower him with love and attention and I don't think his birthday is an exception.

And he kept reiterating after such said birthday how he recently discovered he loves to be loved and how he does most of the things he does in order to be loved by his fans, friends and family.

And it breaks my heart that, the headlines read BTS shower X, Y with love on his birthday but the two people close to him were missing from that list this time. The media talks about BTS posting for eachother as them showering eachother with love. Certainly they all know this.

And the fact Jin posted for Tae after Tae's birthday says a lot about Tae and JK. Tae had no intention of posting perhaps because he left JM a message on the packages. With Jin I feel he was overcompensating for not posting for him on his birthday...

JK gets a pass. If JM wasn't happy about him not posting for his birthday, he would have pulled a Jin.

Jimin talking about coming to the realization he loves to be loved makes me think JK withholding his affections openly made him come to the realization he loves to be loved. Just a hunch. And the only reason JK would withhold his affections is if Jimin himself estopps him. Those two give me headaches.

I think I got the closure I needed from this.

LESSON: dont get on JM's bad side and bloody post for his birthday 💀

Tae been releasing photos of Jimin and Jhope a lot lately. Not sure how that makes me feel either. I think it's beautiful. But when I think about all these beautiful photos he has of Jimin on his phone and how generous he is with them- I think they would have been more meaningful had he released it on JM's birthday. The snow photo he posted still sits in my Vmin heart somewhere.

I really don't like this not posting for each other's birthday business. It's 2021. They need to cut it out.

I feel JK set a bad precedent but personal happiness first so good for him.

This moment haunts me for some reason.

What was going through V's head. I want to know. RM looks done. Lol.

Jimin is really beautiful. I love his eyes when he smiles and the thing he does with his shoulders.

Some people complain I write a lot. Some say I don't write enough. Ayayayai!!!!!!

What to do.

I think I accidentally deleted a post.

I'm looking forward to JKK1. Stay Gold, Still with you, Your eyes tell... I hope he hasn't given his best away cos those were bops.

PJM1... oh God I'm nervous. I'm excited for it but nervous. I think Serendipity is a classic. The Christmas song was equally great and frankly the only good Christmas Ive heard so far and I don't even like Christmas- nothing against Baby Jesus I just think it sucks. That bridge in Dis-ease is something.

I want to read his thoughts. His spotify playlist is insightful but I want to confirm if he really sees himself as a mess who is always causing his lover grief.

I mean he did say he has realized he needs to be considerate towards those that love him. Not sure yet the connection there.

I want to read his thoughts.

PJM1....

I love JHOPE. I think his ship with Jimin is beautiful and healing. They make my insides warm. Not sure if their shippers think they are real. Do they? That would be awkward.

I think RM and Jimin need to spend time together... it would be good for them.

Jimin and Sungwoon shippers are alleging Jimin has been staying with Sungwoon all this while. LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL

But the bit about him living with Sungwoon before the start of Bon V 4 has me🤔

Around that period, I don't believe JM was at the dorms and Jikook were not together then too. He must have been staying somewhere...

I'll let them have that.

But around November 2019 when he was having issues with JK he was staying with Tae too so no I don't think that means Sungwoon is queer or that Jimin is sleeping with him💀

They need to get out of their imaginations.

I think Jikook will drive me crazy one day.

I can feel my cranium swelling.

JiRose shippers need to pack it up. They really think Jimin is straight? 💀

It's the bad editing for me.

That doesn't look like a straight face to me. Unless his butt was on fire and he was uncomfortable looking at that black interviewer, I think that's his flirting face.

Lately I've been thinking about what ifs.

What if Jikook is not real?

I wish I believed that.

62 notes · View notes

plaidbooks · 3 years

Text

Cursed

A/N: So! I was rereading Warmth on a Cold Day, and I noticed all the asks for a part two/proposal scene. And I thought, “well, why the hell not?” And then I thought, “I wanna torture this poor bastard.” So, here we are. This is a Rafael Barba x reader fic, and a part two to Warmth on a Cold Day (but could be read as a standalone).

Tags: mentions/implied smut, some fluff, mentions of a broken arm, angst with a happy ending

Words: 2k+

Taglist: @the-baby-bookworm @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba

Tonight was the night…the night. Rafael kept repeating that to himself, over and over again, his hand subtly brushing against the ring box in his coat pocket—to make sure it was there, he told himself. Though he could feel it pressing against his breast with every movement he made. His heart was beating rapidly, and his stomach was doing flips. He hadn’t been this nervous since he was cramming for the bar exam, and even that didn’t compare to what he was feeling now. But, he was able to keep his face calm, collected, as he sat next to you in the booth, tucked in the corner of the cozy restaurant—the same place he had taken you on your first date. You were leaning against his side, his arm wrapped arm your shoulder, his fingertips ghosting over your arm absentmindedly. Rafael had absolutely no idea how you didn’t hear his heart thundering in his chest as his free hand felt the ring box in his pocket once more.

“Tonight’s been lovely,” you murmured, turning your head to place a soft kiss against his cheek, the light stubble he got by the end of the day tickling your lips. “Thank you.”

Rafael smiled at you, kissing your forehead gently. “Thank you, mi amor. I’m glad we were able to come out tonight, work’s been…” he trailed off, letting the sentence die in his throat. He wanted to say something profound, to really express how much you meant to him, how much he adored you, loved you. Bringing up his work—with all the rape, trafficking, and pedophilia—was not the way to do that. “You know…I—”

“Dessert?” the waiter asked, appearing out of nowhere and cutting Rafael off.

“Oh, I’m good, thanks. Raf?” you looked to him.

He was a little annoyed at being cut off, but he shook it off, replying, “no thank you.” The waiter passed him the bill, then scooped up your empty dishes before retreating. He cleared his throat, trying to remember what he was going to say before his train of thought was destroyed.

“Are you working tomorrow?” you asked, scratching his back lovingly. You leaned your chin on his shoulder, breathing in his expensive cologne—your favorite one, the one you had bought him.

He huffed out a humorless laugh. “’Course. When am I not at work?” He didn’t mean for the words to come out as rude as they did, but he was miffed that the moment was ruined. Maybe he could finagle a walk in the park with you after you left the restaurant…propose under the stars…he knew you’d like that, too.

You gave him a sympathetic look, not at all offended by his tone; you knew Rafael well enough to know it wasn’t directed at you. You gave him a grin. “You work too hard.” Bringing your lips close to his ear, you whispered, “run away with me, Raf…let’s go somewhere quiet, away from the city…just us.”

His cock twitched in his pants from your voice. God was that a tempting thought. “I…I can’t, cariño…you know I couldn’t leave the courthouse for that long.”

Your hot breath danced across his skin, and he felt goosebumps, the hairs on his neck standing up. “Not even for a week? Think about it, Rafi,” you put your hand on his thigh and he tensed. “Just you…me…and no one else.”

Rafael let out a shaky breath. At this rate, he wasn’t making it to a park with you. Hell, he’d be lucky if he made it out of the restaurant without bending you over the table. He vaguely felt the ring box in his pocket, pressed against his chest. But your hand on his thigh was slowly taking all of his attention.

He cleared his throat. “M-maybe one day…I’ll have to put in for it well in advance….”

“You know what else you can put in?” you raised an eyebrow suggestively at him, and he chuckled nervously.

“Let me pay first, then we can get out of here,” he murmured, waving down a waiter and handing them his card.

“Mmm…” you mused. “Think there’s enough room in the back of your car?”

******************************

Okay, tonight was definitely the night. It had been over a month since the dinner where Rafael had failed to propose to you. But he was feeling optimistic about tonight. He had booked you both a couple’s massage, ending in a walk through the park under the stars. He was right the first night; you loved walking under the stars, and there was one spot in Brooklyn Bridge Park that he had taken you before—where you had shared your first kiss, which had led to one of the most magical evenings of either of your lives.

The massage was amazing—and much needed—and had left you both feeling light and relaxed. You walked hand-in-hand into the park, comfortable in each other’s presence. Wandering the paths, you looked up at the stars, letting Rafael guide you, keep you from walking into trees or into a ditch. He glanced into your face, smiling at your reaction, the stars reflected in your eyes.

Eventually, you had meandered to the spot, and you turned to Rafael, grinning, eyes bright. You pulled him close to you, giving him a sweet kiss, remembering that night when he had nervously asked to kiss you, almost two years ago now. He pulled back, a small smile on his lips.

“[Y/N]…I love you so much…. If I had a thousand years to tell you how much I loved you, it still wouldn’t be enough time,” Rafael murmured. You felt tears in your eyes and Rafael opened his coat, reaching for his inner pocket—

A cell phone rang out in the silence. You both froze, then Rafael groaned as he realized it was his phone ringing. The hand reaching for his jacket pocket went to his pants pocket, pulling out his phone. Glancing at the screen, he answered, “Rafael Barba.” He listened for a moment, his face falling. “Yeah, Liv, I can be there in 20 minutes. You owe me.” He hung up angrily, shoving his phone back in his pocket and giving you a sad look. “I’m so sorry—”

“It’s fine, Raf. Let’s get you back to civilization.”

*******************************

It was a full three months later that Rafael was ready to propose again. Mostly because trying to coordinate time off was next to impossible. But also, because he was still incredibly pissed off about last time, even though you weren’t mad that he got called in. He wasn’t sure if you knew his intentions yet or not, but he was starting to feel antsy carrying the ring around everywhere, terrified that he was going to lose it.

This time, though, it was going to be perfect. Rafael had pulled McCoy, his boss, aside and demanded that he be granted time off—he had over a year’s worth of vacation time saved as it was. Once approved, he called Olivia and told her to lose his number for a week. Then, he called your boss, told them his plan, and got you approved off for that week, too. And the final piece to his plan, he packed a bag for you and for himself—checking, double checking, and triple checking that he had the ring— and putting them in his car early in the morning. He came back to the bedroom, waking you with a gentle kiss on the cheek, before you turned and captured his lips in a lazy kiss.

“Get up, mi amor. We gotta go,” he murmured.

“Hmm?” you asked sleepily, rolling over.

“Come on, baby. We’re going to a cabin in Vermont. You can sleep in the car; I’m driving.”

“V-Vermont? What?” you asked, slowly waking up. You sat up, your still-asleep mind trying to work through what Rafael was saying.

“Remember? You asked for a week away from the city. Just us. Well, I got the time off, and I already talked to your boss; you’re off too,” he grinned at you.

Now you were awake, hurrying to get dressed. “You’re serious?”

Rafael nodded. “You. Me. No one else.”

**************************

You were buzzing in the seat next to Rafael, excited to have a week to yourselves. He had a small smile the whole drive, obviously just as thrilled as you to be leaving the city behind. He also assured you that he had talked to the detectives at SVU, telling them not to disturb him all week. You verbally double-checked what he had packed, making sure you had all your essentials—plus extra “necessities,” such as lube, condoms, toys, batteries, and other fun things. You had Rafael alone for a full week, and you planned to take advantage of every single second.

Rafael pulled into the driveway of the cabin, putting the car in park and hurrying around the car to open your door for you. You giggled as he held his hand out to you, tugging you into his arms and kissing you deeply.

“We can get the bags later,” he murmured, picking you up and carrying you inside, his lips never leaving yours.

*************************

You were sitting on the couch, wearing only panties and one of Rafael’s shirts, a blanket around your shoulders. You were on day four out of seven of your vacation, your body a good kind of sore, hickeys and marks covering your body. Rafael was in the kitchen, making dinner for the night, and you were vaguely watching the Mets/Yankees game, just waiting for him to come back. You both ate quickly, feeding each other little bites and stealing kisses and touches throughout the meal, desperate to be all over each other again. Once done, you were pulling him to you, your tongue in his mouth, tasting the food and him in an intoxicating mixture.

“Don’t you want to digest a little?” Rafael chuckled, pulling you onto his lap.

“No; I was actually thinking about eating some dessert,” you purred at him, rolling your hips against him. Growling, Rafael stood with you, carrying you towards the bedroom, his mouth searching for new skin to leave marks on. You thrusted against his hips again, making him groan against your neck.

“Mmm…fuck me hard, Guapo,” you moaned into his ear. His cock twitched between your bodies and you both rocked into each other roughly, both turned on. But the motion threw Rafael off balance. He stumbled backwards and twisted, trying to regain his balance. His instincts taking over as he started to fall, he clutched onto you tighter, and you both hit the wall. You yelped in pain, hearing—and feeling—a snap in your arm before crashing to the ground in a heap. You gripped your arm, laying uselessly on the floor.

“Fuck, [Y/N], are you okay?” Rafael asked, concerned, his hands all over you.

“I-I think my arm is broken,” you huffed through gritted teeth.

*************************

You were laying in a hospital bed, a brand-new cast on your arm and your cheeks still burning from explaining to the doctor and nurses what had happened. Though, with the marks all over your body, you were pretty sure they could come to their own conclusions. Rafael sat in the chair next to your bed, his face in his hands, looking as miserable as you felt. But you wanted to lighten the mood, to make him feel better; you knew he blamed himself.

“Leave it to us to finally have a week to ourselves, and we still can’t even do that right,” you joked.

He dropped his hands from his face, looking at you with such sadness, it wiped the smirk off your face and tears threatened to form. “This is all my fault…I’m fucking cursed.” He lowered his eyes, staring at the bed.

You reached out, taking one of his hands in yours. “You’re cursed? I’m the one with the broken arm, baby.” You gave him a soft smile, waiting until he looked at you again. “Besides, we had four amazing days of alone time…plus pretty fucking great sex.”

This got his lips to twitch upward for a moment, before his frown returned. “T-that’s not what I meant.” You raised an eyebrow at him, confused. Rafael sighed. “I was going to…I’ve been trying now, for months, to set up the perfect timing for this….”

“For what, baby?” you asked, squeezing his hand.

He looked deeply into your eyes, his normally bright, minty green eyes dimmed with sadness. He sighed once more before he took his hand back from you, opening his jacket and reaching into his inner pocket, pulling out a small ring box. He fiddled with it for a moment between his long fingers while your eyes widened.

“Is…is that what I think it is?” you breathed out, voice low.

Rafael swallowed. “Yes, it is…I’ve been trying to propose to you, in the perfect way, with the perfect words. But every time I try, I get interrupted by waiters, or work, or…broken arms,” he gave you a small smile. “That’s what I meant when I said I was cursed; I think I’m just…not meant to have you.” The silence stretched on for a long time before you replied to him, your voice firm.

“Rafael Barba, that’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said.”

He whipped his eyes up to look at you, stunned. You gave him a stern look before continuing, “we’ve been dating for over two years now. You should know by now that I don’t need any kind of fancy or extravagant display for a proposal. I just need you.” You gave him a soft smile, putting all your love and affection into your expression. “I love you, Raf; always have, always will. Of course, you were meant to have me. Because I’m meant to have you.”

There were tears in your eyes by the time you finished talking, and you saw them start to well in his, too, making the green brighter. “I-I love you, too [Y/N].” Rafael looked down to the ring box he was still fidgeting with, as if he had forgotten he was holding it. He opened it, showing his abuelita’s ring to you. It was a thin, silver band, a small ruby in the center. It wasn’t flashy, which is exactly why you loved it—plus, it was coming from the love of your life.

“Will you marry me?” Rafael asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You breathed out, feeling your heart in your throat. “Yes, of course I will,” you breathed back, eyes glittering in the fluorescent lights. A grin broke out across his face as he got out of the hospital chair. He leaned over you, giving you a gentle kiss, all the love you felt for each other in the simple touch. You were both like that for a long time, your lips bruised by the time he pulled back from you, sitting down once more. “Though, I did break my left arm, so you��ll have to hold onto that ring for a little while longer.”

Rafael chuckled, shaking his head. “See? I’m cursed.”

#rafael barba x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #fanfic #my writing #poor raf lol

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fantastic-bby · 4 years

Text

緣份

Pairing: (F)Reader x Mark | ft Jackson and Jinyoung |

Word count: 7k

Genre: Fluff | Angst (?) | Ex Lovers to Lovers | CEO AU | Non-Idol AU

Summary: 緣份 (Yuan fen): The destiny written between people. Mark Tuan was your college boyfriend. Unfortunately, your relationship fell apart when he expresses his discomfort towards your friendship with Jackson. After you graduate, you assume you would never meet him ever again. It isn’t until one day when you need to form an alliance with another company that you realise your relationship with Mark isn’t over just yet...

Warnings: -

Masterlist

You run your hands over your light beige blazer as you look at yourself through the full body mirror. You take a deep breath to calm the nerves that were wreaking havoc in your mind. Honestly, there was very little reason for you to be this nervous. You’ve met clients before - but you knew this wasn’t a client. This man is vital for your company. If you fail to get him on board, the company would lose more money than it ever has before. Meaning you as the CEO would also lose more money than you have before.

There’s a knock on your office door and you turn around to see your secretary poking her head in, “Miss, he’s here,” Lex states and you nod in acknowledgement. She leaves your office and you give yourself a double-check in the mirror, making sure you looked fine before leaving. She hands you a folder, “All of the documents you need are in here - including the whole plan and everything. Mr Wang’s already in the conference room, I told him he should wait for you, but… you know how he is,” she further adds and you can’t hold back the laugh that slips past your lips as you flip through the documents.

“Jackson’s a handful, but he knows what he’s doing,” you reassure her. “Thank you, Lex.” The feeling of knowing that Jackson is already in the meeting room adds to your confidence. There’s no way this meeting could go wrong with him around. His charisma was one of the main reasons you started this company with him in the first place.

You push open the glass door and your heart drops when you see who’s inside. Your entire body freezes, your confidence leaving as you stare at him.

“Ah! (Y/n), you’re here.” Jackson immediately stands up and makes his way to you. Judging by the nervous look on his face, he already knows. “I’m handing it off to you,” he whispers hastily and forces your frozen body to your seat.

“(Y/n)? That’s a name I haven’t heard in years,” the man chuckles as he watches you sit down. You extend your hand to shake his.

“It’s really been a while, Mark.” He shakes yours. The feeling of his skin against yours brings back all of those distant, college memories that you had pushed to the back of your mind. “I honestly didn’t know that you’re the man we’d be meeting today,” you confess as you start to open the folder.

“I would’ve assumed that you would’ve done your research on me.” Mark leans forward, “it’s not exactly the most flattering thing when someone who’s trying to join hands with my company doesn’t even know who the head is.” His tone makes you even more nervous than you already were before.

“I-I,” you clear your throat and kick Jackson underneath the desk. His body flinches when you do and he’s quick to help.

“W-We assumed your father would be coming for the meeting instead. He is still the head of the company,” he quickly says and you thank the lord that Jackson is sitting beside you. Mark eyes the both of you as you slide the documents towards him; there's no way he didn't hear the thud from below the table.

“By joining hands, both our companies would be benefitting from both incomes of our merchandise. Jackson’s jewelry line as well as my makeup line are already very well-known. If we collaborate with your clothing line, we would be exposing our brands to more buyers.” You're surprised that you manage to explain it calmly, and it seems that Jackson is as well when his hand squeezes your knee.

“You would seriously be helping us a lot here, hyung-nim,” Jackson adds. Mark glances up at the two of you before returning to read through the folder.

“Jackson and I are also planning to start a model agency under our company. Doing so would make it easier for us to find models as well as guaranteeing that our models would be treated fairly. We don’t tolerate mistreatment in this company.” You finish with a soft chuckle. Mark finally looks up from the folder and flashes you a smile,

“It seems you’ve both gotten quite far. Why do you suddenly need our company to help?” he raises an eyebrow. Shit. The plan in your mind is fleeting by the second.

“It would reduce the competition for both of our companies, hyung-nim. We’ve been against Def. for the past few years, and I know that you’ve had a handful of rivalries with Ars and Dandelion. You’d be surprised how many of our rivals are actually people that went to our college," Jackson chuckles, clasping his hands in front of himself as he gives Mark a look. Mark stares at him for a moment, the words moving around in his mind before he shrugs.

“If you're doing so well, then how do you explain your sudden drop in sales?" he questions.

"The sudden drop in sales is one of the few reasons we've asked for this alliance. There was a small issue with a few of the batches for the makeup. The factory wasn't following the hygiene orders, and they're being reprimanded for it," Jackson explains.

"We hope that you'll at least take this into thought, Mark." You bite your lip as you watch the way he goes through the contract you slid towards him. He gives you a look that you can't quite understand before looking down at the contract.

"I'll think about it," he speaks up after a moment as he stands up. "I'll get in contact with you when I've made up my mind." Mark's halfway out the door when he speaks up, "I honestly never thought I'd be seeing you again (Y/n)." And with that, Mark left the conference room. You stared ahead with your mouth agape as you tried to process everything that just happened.

Never in your life had you thought you'd see Mark Tuan again. What adds to the disbelief is that his company is the one that you and Jackson need to pick up your sales. Mark’s existence was nothing more than a memory - a college fling - that you had pushed away when you graduated. You weren’t supposed to see him anymore.

“Hey,” Jackson’s hand finds your back and it makes you turn to him. “I don’t think whatever happened in college might affect what’ll happen now,” he reassures you, but it’s not enough to convince you.

“It just might, Jackson.” You shake your head. Whether or not Mark agrees with the merge would determine the future of your company. The drop in sales was massive, and if Mark decided against it just because of what happened between you two, your company would plummet even further.

“He can’t be that immature,” he shakes his head, leaning back in his chair.

“We can’t be too sure,” you mutter out.

»»————-　　————-««

“(Y/n), come on! Let loose!” Jackson laughs as he hands you a drink. You glare at him as he does. The line between drunk and tipsy was starting to get blurrier and blurrier to in his mind, and he didn’t really care.

“I told you. I’m only here to drive you home,” you remind him, but you take the drink from his hands nonetheless.

“God,” Jinyoung groans, his head hanging back as he leans against the bar. “Go get laid or something. You haven't gone wild since our second semester. Get drunk. It’s not like there’s any exams coming up anytime soon,” he shrugs as he orders another drink while you stare at him, wondering how he can always remain calm.

“Guys, we have exams in two weeks!” you exclaim in disbelief and he snorts in response.

“You’re smart. You’ll pass.” Jackson’s gaze moves towards the crowd of drunk, dancing college students. “Go find yourself someone nice, get drunk, get laid - I don’t know. Just don’t be a buzzkill.” You watch as he downs his drink. “There’s a nice girl over there. If you’re going to leave, let me know,” is the last thing he says before he leaves you at the bar. You turn to Jinyoung with a pleading look.

“There’s a girl here that I’ve been trying to ask out for months,” he pats you on the shoulder. “I’m not letting this moment go,” he says and leaves you alone, disappearing into the crowd.

You look down at your drink with a sigh, swirling the alcohol inside of it. You wonder how Jackson keeps convincing you to come to these parties even though he knows you’re just there to drive Jinyoung home and Jackson to your shared flat. You don’t release as much energy as Jackson does, leaving you more isolated from the groups whenever you did party. You’re not as good at sweet talking as Jinyoung is which meant you could not flirt properly to save your own life. You’re always the person at the bar, watching your friends get drunk so that you would eventually drive them home, and that’s the only thing that keeps you at the club.

You watch from the bar as Jackson grinds on a girl while Jinyoung tries to sweet talk his way into Jade’s heart. As your eyes scan the crowd, you lock eyes with an unfamiliar face watching you from the booth filled with a few students you do recognise. The only one you can put a name on is Jaebeom; he’s in your management class.

You turn your attention away from their booth and towards your phone instead. It’s only one a.m., the night is still young and you were going to be stuck here for another two hours or so. Might as well burn the hours by scrolling through your feed to see what your other friends were doing instead.

“Hey.” The voice makes you look up to see the same man watching you from before. You flash him a small smile as you take a sip from your drink. “Is anyone sitting here?” he gestures to the empty seat beside you and you quickly shake your head, gesturing for him to sit. He orders a drink before turning to the crowd, leaning back against the bar. “I’m Mark.”

“(Y/n).”

“What are you doing sitting here all alone?” he questions. You let out a hum, clicking your tongue as your eyes once again fall on your friends who are wasting the night away.

“I always get invited to clubs, but I’m more of a chauffeur than anything. I come, I wait, and I drive my friends home,” you raise your hand, pointing with your glass towards Jackson and Jinyoung.

“I see we have the same job,” Mark chuckles as he reaches behind to grab the glass from the bartender, bringing it to his lips. “I always have to drive Jaebeom home because he insists on coming. He also ends up bringing Youngjae with him, too.” He gestures to his own friends.

“These people need to pay us for this one day.” You joke, enticing a laugh out of Mark. It’s a nice sound that comes out of his throat.

“If I earned a dollar for every time I had to drive these guys home, I’d probably have enough money to actually hire a driver for them.” He chuckles. You laugh as well, glancing over to look at Mark. You have to admit he was pretty handsome. If his chiseled jaw wasn’t what made you realise it, then it was his smile. “Wanna dance?” Mark turns to you and you look at him wide eyed.

“I’m not much of a dancer,” you shake your head.

“It’s not that hard.” He downs his drink as he slides off of his chair and reaches for your hand. “No one’s even going to notice. Everyone here is drunk.” He flashes you a smile and it was enough to convince you to join him. You finish your own drink, taking Mark’s hand and he pulls you into the crowd. With the amount of people on the dance floor, your body is flushed against Mark, causing your cheeks to heat up. “You okay?” he questions and you’re glad it’s too dark for him to properly see your face.

“Y-Yeah,” you nod. He leans down to your ear,

“Just put your hands around my neck.” His breath tickles your skin and you oblige, snaking your hands up until you lock your fingers behind his neck. You both start swaying with the music, his hands resting above your hips to guide you gently.

As you look up at him, you’re hit with this strange feeling in your heart. You assume it’s the alcohol because never once had you ever seen someone this… ethereal. The multicoloured lights flash above the two of you, every colour seeming to make him more and more beautiful in your eyes. You wouldn’t exactly call it ‘love at first sight’ because you know you’re not in love with him, but is strangely feels like you may be soon enough. Your hands gently tug on his neck, bringing his face closer to yours.

“Kiss me,” you state and Mark pulls away for a moment to look at you in slight surprise. When your eyes show no trace of regret towards the words, his eyes darken and he slowly leans down to press his lips against yours.

»»————-　　————-««

Of course you had to bump into him here. Out of all of the places in the world, it would be at a park where you’re walking Jackson’s dog. You look around frantically, trying to find a place - anywhere - to hide.

“(Y/n).” Damn it. You turn around and force a smile when you see Mark standing there.

“Hi, Mark,” you force out. His gaze moves down to the golden retriever that’s looking up at him curiously.

“When did you get a dog?” he questions as he crouches down, “may I?” He glances up at you and you blink a few times before nodding.

“He’s not mine. This is Jackson’s dog,” you tell him. You take note of the way Mark’s hand stops moving for a moment before resuming to run through Kika’s golden coat.

“How’s life been since college?” Mark asks, his eyes still on the dog.

“Well...” You don’t know exactly where to start. Should you start after college or after you and Mark split ways? “After college, I worked at Sony for a few years before Jackson and I decided to start Charmed together.”

“Together?” He looks up from Kika and you nod.

“We’ve known each other for so long, and we both decided that it would be easier and safer to start with someone we trust,” you add. Mark nods at that as he turns back to the dog before standing up. There’s an awkward silence that settles between you two for a moment before you decide you can’t stand it anymore. “I-I need to go. I need to take Kika back home,” you quickly excuse yourself and start walking in the opposite direction from Mark.

“(Y/n),” he reaches out to grab your wrist and it stops you from moving away any further, “I’ve changed.” You turn around slowly to look at him, you register his words before quickly retracting your hand.

“That’s…” you trail off as you stare at him. Without saying anything else, you quickly walk away from him and back to your apartment only to see Jackson rummaging through your fridge like a parasite. Well, maybe parasite was a bit of a stretch, but you knew giving him the code to your apartment was a bad idea.

He peeks up from the fridge to greet you, but he can tell from your face that something went wrong. Jackson being someone who could see right through you, does not leave you alone until you give up from trying to hide it. Turning on your Netflix, you plop yourself onto your couch and explain everything.

“Now, why would your college affair affect us now?” Jackson questions as he pulls two bottles of beer out from your fridge.

“Well, for starters, he hated you in college,” you groan, throwing your head back to lean over the edge of your couch. “I broke up with him because I would never abandon you,” you tell Jackson. He stands behind the couch with the opened bottles in his hand.

“Well, if he says he’s changed, then maybe he has.” He shrugs, plopping himself onto the spot beside you as Kika jumps up onto his lap.

“God, when I said Kika was your dog and not mine, he fucking froze, Jackson. You don’t do that if you’ve moved on,” you argue and Jackson responds by clinking his bottle with yours. “And that time in the conference room, you should’ve seen his face when I kicked your leg. I’m pretty damn sure he heard it.”

“You always overthink things, (Y/n),” he mutters out with a chuckle as he presses play on a random movie. “You don’t let things just go with the flow. That’s how you acted when you dumped him, and that’s how you’re acting now. Don’t try and force yourself to figure out whether he’s okay with you now, just wait things out and see.”

“Yes - but Jackson, if he lets those old feelings come back, it’ll affect his decision,” you grumble. Jackson lets out a sigh,

“Drink your beer before it gets warm. You hate warm beer,” he states and leans back, kicking his feet up onto your coffee table.

“And I hate it when you do that.” You smack his thigh and he whines as he lowers his legs.

“If you ask me, I really don’t think he’ll let me being your best friend affect business. If he does, then he’s really unprofessional,” Jackson shrugs as he takes a swig from his beer. You bite the inside of your cheek as you turn away from Jackson and towards your TV. Hopefully, Jackson’s right.

»»————-　　————-««

The knock on your door makes you dash out of your bedroom to answer it. Opening the door, you see Mark with his usual gummy smile when he sees you.

“Mark? What are you doing here?” you question, slightly surprised that he had suddenly shown up. After that night with Mark, you honestly had a lingering feeling that you would end up meeting him again. As though it was some kind of fate that you would end up crossing paths once again.

“I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me.” He licks his lips nervously as he scans your face for your reaction. You immediately nod, smiling slowly.

“Yeah, of course.” It was no secret that you may have grown to like the mysterious man from the club. That night you spent with him was one of the best nights you ever had, and you had to admit that you were quite sad when you remembered he was a one night stand.

“If you’re not doing anything now, maybe we could grab something to eat at the barbeque restaurant right outside campus,” Mark suggests and you immediately agree.

“Let me just grab my purse.” You gesture for him to step into your apartment before you disappear into your bedroom, grabbing your purse and your phone. You’re lucky he had come at a time when Jinyoung had cancelled your plans to grab some McDonalds, meaning you were already dressed up to go out.

“Do you live alone?” Mark asks as you lock your front door. You shake your head.

“I live with Jackson. Saves money for the both of us,” you hum.

“With Jackson? The guy from the club?” His eyes go wide and you nod.

“I’ve known Jackson since we were in elementary. We graduated high school together, and we’re probably gonna graduate college together. Who knows, maybe we’ll even work together.” You laugh lightly, failing to miss Mark’s baffled expression. He quickly wipes it off of his face as he walks beside you.

“You guys must be close,” he mutters out and you nod once again.

“Jackson’s pretty much been through everything I’ve been through. We’re like opposites of each other, but he’s almost like my other brain cell,” you joke. Mark purses his lips as you walk down the stairs of the apartment - walking saved time since you lived on the second floor - and out of the building.

“Isn’t it weird living with another guy?” His question surprises you and you quickly shake your head.

“Jackson’s like a brother to me,” you tell him and he lets out a hum at that. “Why?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ve just never met someone who I’m able to connect with that well.” Mark shrugs. You give him a weird look and decide to just brush it off.

“It’s never crossed my mind as weird. Jackson’s really just family for me,” you say. He lets out a hum and you can feel a strange tension starting to build between the two of you. “Is it weird?” you question softly. It’s rare to both you and Jackson that someone doesn’t find it weird.

“A little bit,” he mutters out, but you can hear from the tone in his voice that he really doesn’t mean it in a bad way. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that close to someone before, so maybe it’s just new to me.” Mark turns to you and gives you a reassuring smile.

“Are you okay with it?” you ask. He turns away from you for a moment before shrugging.

“I guess I’ll just try and get used to it.”

»»————-　　————-««

“Mark? Like Mark Tuan?” Jinyoung questions and Jackson nods. You’re laying your head on the table while Jackson tells Jinyoung of how unfortunate you are to have met Mark again. “If he isn’t over it, he’s a dick,” he scoffs as he takes a sip from his iced tea.

“See?” You look up to see Jackson giving you an ‘I told you so’ look.

“If he’s a dick, he might reject the contract,” you whine.

“She still overthinks, huh?” Jinyoung chuckles. You respond by glaring at him. “(Y/n), if he doesn’t want to have an alliance, do one with my company,” he suggests.

“Your company doesn’t make as much money as Mark’s company,” Jackson snorts and Jinyoung punches his arm.

“Yah, at least I’m still making more than you guys,” he snaps.

“I guess an alliance with Jinyoung’s company wouldn’t be that bad.” You sit up straight and Jinyoung gives you a smug look.

“I’d be saving your asses,” he proudly states.

“You’re still not our first option, Jinyoung,” Jackson points out, “if Mark accepts the alliance, then we’ll stick with that.” He takes a sip from his coffee while Jinyoung slides the plate of tiramisu your way.

“I really think you’re overthinking this, (Y/n),” Jinyoung adds, watching you take the plate and scoop the desert into your mouth.

“You guys don’t have to keep telling me that,” you grumble.

“Well, you keep bringing him up. Of course we’re going to keep telling you that.” He shrugs. “Why did you guys break up again?”

“He didn’t like the fact that I was so close to both you and Jackson,” you mutter out as the memories start to replay in your mind. “It was why I tried to spend less time with you guys and more time with Mark.”

“(Y/n) already told him about how we’ve been friends since forever,” Jackson adds and you nod.

“He tried to get me to stop hanging out with both of you. So,” you let out a sigh as you sat up, “I dumped him instead.”

“Understandable,” Jinyoung hums. “It’s the same reason Jade and I broke up.”

“Is it so terrible that the three of us are so close?” Jackson questions. There’s the familiar hint of annoyance and frustration in his tone.

“Maybe it’s less of the three of us and more of us,” he gestures to Jackson and himself, “and (Y/n).”

“Is it really that big of a deal? I’m tired of hearing the same ‘guys can’t be just friends with girls’ bullshit,” you sigh, “I even tried to make a deal that I would spend less time with Jackson, but he wanted me to cut ties with him instead.” Your two friends share the same tired glance. Ever since high school, it seemed to be some kind of weird narrative that you - a girl - couldn’t be close with a guy - Jackson, and it only heightened when the two of you met Jinyoung in college.

It was frustrating whenever people would question your relationship. The three of you are friends, and that was all. Whatever romantic or sexual feelings that were present had disappeared long ago. There was a moment in time where your platonic relationship with Jinyoung almost turned into something more, but you both decided it would be better to stay as friends rather than turning it into something more.

“If anything goes wrong with the contract, just give me a call,” Jinyoung spoke up. “You guys are free to join hands with my company.” He flashes you a reassuring smile and it helps to lift your spirits a bit more.

“Thanks, Jinyoung.” You return the smile.

“The best thing you can do right now is wait it out. Don’t do that thing where you end things because you’re scared someone else will end it,” Jackson warns jokingly.

“Shut up, you do that, too,” you snap at him. He lets out an exaggerated gasp and clutch his chest dramatically, starting the playful bicker between you two while Jinyoung watches in disbelief.

“We’re almost thirty and you both still argue like a bunch of fucking kids.” Jinyoung laughs. He lets out another laugh when you both ignore his statement and continue bickering with each other.

“Hold up, can we backtrack for a moment?” Jackson asks after your childish argument is over. “Didn’t Mark try and get you back up until he graduated?”

“Yeah,” you nod with a sigh. “That’s honestly what I’m the most scared of. He probably hates me because after he graduated because he kept trying even after we graduated a year later. Then, he just stopped contacting me completely. I honestly thought that was the last I would hear from him.” You mutter out.

“Wait, he kept trying even after our graduation?” Jinyoung’s eyes go wide. “Why didn’t you tell us?” He questions.

“I didn’t want you guys to beat him up or something - I don’t know.” You shrug.

“(Y/n), it was more than a year after you guys broke up. You told us he kept trying until right before our graduation.” Jackson’s tone sounds like he’s almost scolding you. You have to admit, you kept his messages away from the two because you knew for a fact that they would’ve tried to hunt him down and make him stop.

“If I told you he kept bothering me, it would’ve made it worse. Leave me alone, it’s been like seven years.” you grumble.

“If he held on for more than a year and even told her that he’s changed, doesn’t it mean he’s probably…” Jinyoung trails off and the real problem that was brewing in your mind hits Jackson.

“He’s probably still in love with you…” Jackson mutters out in realisation. “That’s why you’re so bothered by it.” He turns to you for clarification and you nod.

“Do you still love him?” Jinyoung questions and you breathe out through your nose as you think about it.

“Well, if I’m going to be honest, I don’t think I ever really fell out of love with him,” you confess softly and both of their eyes go wide. “I think I just pushed it away because if he’s not okay with my best friends, then I don’t want him,” you mutter out, leaning forward and resting your chin onto the table.

A silence falls between the three of you as Jackson and Jinyoung think through it. Say Mark is still in love with you, but has not gotten over the fact that you’re best friends with Jackson, he could easily reject the offer to avoid heartache. But, if Mark isn’t in love with you and he hates you for leaving him for your friends, then he could also reject the offer out of pure spite. The more they thought about it, the harder it seemed to get out of the situation.

“Can we just hope he’s finally moved on?” Jinyoung suggests and you sigh for the umpteenth time, your head nodding slowly.

»»————-　　————-««

“I just don’t trust him, babe,” Mark mutters out. You turn to him with sad eyes. A year and a half, and it’s always the same fight with him.

“Mark, I’ve known him since we were eight, and I’ve known Jinyoung since our first year. We’re just friends, I promise,” you try to assure him.

“It’s not exactly comforting when your girlfriend’s only best friends are two guys,” he huffs out. You shut your eyes and hang your head. Of course it would be because Jackson and Jinyoung. Mark’s dislike towards Jackson and Jinyoung was getting more and more obvious as the months went by; specifically towards Jackson. For some reason, he just couldn’t bear through the fact that you two were so close.

“I don’t understand why it’s such a problem. I’ve been spending less time with the both of them to be with you. I want to be with you - I love you.” You reach out to hold his hand. Mark looks down at yours on top of his for a moment before interlacing your fingers together.

“I love you too, (Y/n). But, I don’t think I’m comfortable with you hanging out with them at all.” Your hand immediately retracts from his and you stand up from the couch, his words replaying in your head.

“I’m not going to leave my friends behind, Mark,” you scoff, “I’ve been trying so hard to get you to see why they’re so important to me, but you keep pushing that away and focus on the fact that they’re men.”

“It’s more than that!” he exclaims, shooting from the couch. “I just don’t trust Jackson! Is it that hard to ask you to not see him anymore?” Mark’s words sound so childish to you. It would’ve been more understandable if he took the time to get to know them, but he wouldn’t. He always declined whenever you invited him to hang out with all three of you.

“Make the effort, Mark. I’ve tried to bring you over so you could actually sit and talk to both of them, but you always push me away whenever I try to get you guys to meet. I can’t just throw away my best friends just because you tell me to.” You see Mark’s jaw clench as he stares at you.

“(Y/n), come on!” His eyes hold so much disbelief and anger.

“I’ve known Jackson for more than ten years. I’m not just going to drop him because you don’t trust him. I’ve already tried to spend more time with you instead so that maybe you could just stop thinking so negatively of him!” you defend, your voice faltering as tears start to well up in your eyes. Mark’s increasingly getting more and more upset. You can practically see the steam shooting out of his ears.

“Would you choose them over me?” His voice is low, and by the way it falters ever so slightly, you know he’s close to tears as well.

“I can’t just abandon them,” you answer softly. It strikes him to the core and Mark has a hard time trying to keep himself composed. Tears are falling freely from your eyes and you don’t care to wipe or hide them. “I just don’t understand why you won’t just try and see who they are as people instead of judging them straight up,” you sniffle, “we’ve been fighting over this for a year and a half, and... I can’t do this anymore.” You grab your bag and your sweater off of the arm rest of his couch before rushing out of his apartment, leaving Mark alone in his living room.

You stand outside of his door for a moment, debating whether or not you should wait to see if he would come for you. You shake your head and walk away. You weren’t going to give him the chance.

»»————-　　————-««

You step out of the lift and make your way to your office, being greeted by Lex who was already sitting at her desk.

“Miss (Y/n), you have a message,” she speaks up, stopping you from entering your office. You step closer to her desk and give her a questioning hum. “It’s from Mark Tuan; he wants to talk to you.” Your body tenses at the mention of his name.

“Let him know I’m here,” you manage to say and Lex nods as she sits back down. You make your way into your office, immediately moving to sit at your desk. Curse professional looking glass walls for not giving you any room to obviously panic for a moment. Instead, you take a few deep breaths as you wait for his call. It doesn’t take long before the phone starts ringing. You pick up the phone without hesitation.

“Morning, (Y/n),” Mark’s voice comes through the speaker.

“Good morning, Mark,” you greet, leaning back in your chair. “Have you given the offer a thought?” you ask.

“I’m still thinking about it. I called to ask if you were free for lunch,” he clarifies and once again, your body tenses up. “It’s nice to catch up with an old friend. You could also explain more about the alliance to me.”

“I- Sure. There’s a cafe by the park where we bumped into each other. I’ll meet you there.” You place the phone down and stare at it for a moment. Your eyes move to the clock to the wall; you had about three hours before you would meet him. So, you burn the hours with work and skimming over documents that need your approval. You're lucky Jackson’s off to Jeju Island with his fiancee for the week, meaning you don’t have to think about lunch with the amount of work you have to cover for him.

“Miss (Y/n),” Lex knocks on your door before poking her head in, “It’s lunch time.” She tells you and it causes you to look away from your computer monitor to look at her. “Mr Kim is already here to take you to the cafe.” You nod at her and she leaves. You grab your leather messenger bag as well as your phone before making your way down the forty floors to reach the lobby. The ride to the cafe is nerve wracking, and you’re so quiet throughout that your usual chauffeur takes notice.

“Are you alright, Miss (Y/n)?” Mr Kim questions, looking at you through the rear view mirror. Mr Kim’s pretty old, but sometimes you and Jackson feel as though he deserves a raise since he works pretty well as your therapist whenever he’s driving you around.

“Ah,” you’re too nervous to feel flustered that he notices. “The man I’m meeting is someone I used to know in college.”

“An ex lover, perhaps?” He raises a brow. Now, you’re blushing.

“Yeah,” you chuckle nervously. “I’m worried that maybe he’s still holding on to those spiteful feelings.”

“You must’ve been quite a wild one, huh,” Mr Kim chuckles.

“I had no other choice. He made me choose between him or Jackson and Jinyoung,” you explain softly, leaning your head against the window as you watch the buildings go by. Even to this day, you would still admit that you would choose both Jinyoung and Jackson in a heartbeat. “You know how close I am to those two. I could never just leave them behind because Mark told me to,” you sigh. Mr Kim nods at that, peeking at you through the mirror once again.

“Based on the stories I’ve heard from the two of you, you both might as well be siblings - especially with the way you bicker. You remind me of my children,” he chuckles, enticing a soft laugh out of you as well. “I don’t think it should matter what happened in the past, Miss (Y/n). A word of advice: people regret the things they didn’t do more than the things they did. If he’s taken the time to mature, there’s a possibility that he might be hurting inside more from the things he failed to do as your partner,” Mr Kim hums out. His words lift your spirits slightly and it sparks realisation deep within you. You think that maybe you should’ve thought about what you failed to do as Mark’s girlfriend as well. “Now, what didn’t you do while you were together?”

“I-” You pause and think about it deeply. “I don’t think I listened to him the way he wanted me to,” you say slowly, thinking through your words as the memories flood your mind.

“If he was upset over your relationship with Jackson, he may have some form of insecurity hidden deep within him - maybe another ex of his had left him for someone he trusted,” Mr Kim adds. That’s when it hit you. Mark had mentioned once of his ex girlfriend who ended up cheating on him with her best friend.

“Oh my god,” you let out a breath as you let everything come into your mind. More and more regret starts to fill your gut as you realise that Mark was scared. He wasn’t being a dick because he wanted to, he was just scared. Instead of being able to translate it into words, his mind built a hard wall instead. That wall was the anger he kept showing whenever he heard Jackson’s name in college.

“Do you understand now?” he questions just as he parks outside of the cafe. “That feeling of feeling wronged tends to blind you from what’s really happening on the inside.” Mr Kim adds. You nod slowly as you look at the cafe, already seeing Mark sitting inside with his back facing the large glass window.

“Thank you, Mr Kim. You made me realise just how blind I was being in college.” You chuckle as you make sure you have your things.

“Good luck, Miss (Y/n).” He chuckles as well as he watches you leave the car. You puff your cheeks with air, holding your breath as you walk into the cafe. Mark immediately looks up when he hears the bell and raises his hand into the air to wave at you, a soft smile on his face as you make your way over to him.

“Hey,” you greet him and sit down across from him.

“I ordered a green tea latte.” He clears his throat, gesturing towards the green beverage. “It was, uh, it was always your favourite when we were in college,” he mutters out. You stare at the drink in front of you for a moment before smiling softly as well,

“Thank you, Mark.” You take a small folder out from your bag and place it in front of him. “This has all of the details for the possible projects that could come from the alliance.” You watch as he looks through it, the round glasses on the bridge of his nose slowly sliding down until he’s forced to push them back up. “Are those the same glasses from when we were in college?” The words slip out of your mouth before you could stop them, and he looks up at you, flustered. Your cheeks immediately go red as you look at him with wide eyes.

“I actually broke those a few years after,” Mark explains softly. “I thought round glasses looked nice on my face, so I bought one that was similar.” He nods before looking back down, obviously trying to hide the faint blush that was creeping onto his cheeks. There’s a pause in his movements before he looks up at you. “Everything here seems tempting.” He nods slowly, his eyes still going over them. “I’ll agree to the alliance,” Mark smiles. You feel a wave of relief wash over you and your shoulders start to relax. “If you have the contract with you now, I’ll sign it right here.”

“Thank you so much, Mark.” You smile as you reach into your bag to pull out the contract, sliding it towards him as well as a pen. You watch as he reads through it briefly before signing it and handing it back to you. You look at the paper, seeing his signature at the bottom. “Your signature never changed, huh?” you chuckle softly and Mark’s ears turn slightly red.

“I never thought I needed to change it. It looks legit enough,” he chuckles nervously.

“I remember how you only figured out your signature when we were together, and even then it was only because you were tired of signing your notebook over and over again,” you giggle, enticing a laugh from Mark. You notice that his laugh is still the same. Pretty much almost everything about him is the same. The only thing different is that his hair isn’t the same messily styled lilac it used to be. Instead, it’s highlighted with light brown streaks and styled neatly. “It’s nice,” you state softly as you run your thumb over the dried ink.

“Do you regret being with me?” he asks. You look up from the paper with wide eyes and quickly shake your head.

“Of course not!” Your voice comes out louder than you expected it to, and you quickly shut your eyes at the embarrassment of doing so. “I don’t regret anything between us. I just,” you pause for a moment. “I’m just upset that I didn’t try to understand why you didn’t like Jackson,” you confess softly and you can see Mark’s body relax slightly. “I think it took a while before I realised that maybe I wasn’t listening to what you were trying to tell me.” He exhales softly, sitting up straighter.

“I don’t blame you.” He shakes his head. “Honestly, I thought through it for a really long time and I realise it’s not that easy to give up someone you’ve known for almost your entire life. I’m sorry I tried to make you cut him off. When I saw you again at your company, I realised you two are pretty much joint together,” Mark chuckles softly and takes a sip from his coffee. “I’m sorry for being such a dick.” You see the genuinity behind his brown eyes and for the first time in years, you can feel your heart melting just from a look.

“I forgive you.” You nod with a smile. Mark’s lips slowly curl into a smile and he looks down at your hands that are resting on the table; inches away from his own.

“Did you fall out of love with me?” he questions, turning back up to look at you.

“I honestly don’t think I ever did,” you chuckle. He bites his lip as he tries to hold back his smile.

“Would it hurt to try again?” Mark’s tone softens further. As you look into his eyes, you feel that familiar feeling you felt all those years ago when you first met him; the feeling of knowing something about you two attracted each other. With a smile, you reach for his hand.

“I would love if we could.”

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cheezritsu · 4 years

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Haikyuu Couple Aesthetics (pt 2)

part one here!

Kageyama Tobio: couple workouts, linked pinkies, lingering touches, butterflies in your stomach even after years of knowing him, parting his sweaty bangs after a gruelling match, sitting in your lap during study sessions. The childhood friends couple; always attending his games, setting a separate ringtone for when he calls at 2 am from another country, his thumb caressing your cheek when he kisses you, walking home after practices with his face washed with sunset; tiny, barely there smiles meant for your eyes only; mundane tasks as dates, buying magazine covers with his face on them; knuckle kisses, massaging his tense muscles after long, grueling days; pressing your foreheads together, looking deep into his love filled eyes; always following your advice, wrapping his arms around your waist and breathing in your scent; recalling old memories with his grandfather, cooing over baby pictures, having each other as your phone background, being prideful for him, trophy husband jokes; standing up for him no matter what. Slow, unsure kisses, even after so many years; always saying “see you later” and never goodbye, soothing his worries with a hug, knowing what he means even when he’s quiet. You two are the star crossed lovers, never quite separated as long as you’re in love.

Hinata Shoyo: 8 hour phone calls, tan lines, bruised arms, giving Natsu advice like she’s your sister; the sunshine couple; constant encouragement, sitting on the back of his bike and going down hills, Marvel movie marathons, talking so much you forget to eat, reading Shonen jump together, him teaching you volleyball, showing up to all his matches; the number 10 proudly across your chest; brushing away his frustrated tears with the back of your hand; video calls with 12 hours between you two, spontaneous dates, convenience store slushies, being shown off to his friends, pinky promises, cheek kisses, running through the streets with intertwined hands, laughing maniacally; making any day an adventure, getting meat buns at 2am, sitting in the stands at practices, learning Brazilian recipes, smiling contently as he tells yet another story about Brazil; holding his face so gently he might cry, hugging him like he’ll vanish under your fingertips; never whispering “I love you,” only screaming it so everyone can hear. Proud smiles, even in hard times. You two are Icarus and the sun, your fierce love the one thing that keeps the wax from melting under your wings.

Azumane Asahi: braiding each others hair, linking pinkies, slightly mismatched appearances, long, ambling walks home while the sun sets; comforting whispers, spinning hugs, promise rings, the sweet couple; always having the right words, modeling his designs, long distance calls on Saturday nights, dried roses, brown sugar boba tea, framed couple photos, bubble baths, fingers tangled in each other’s hair, running errands as dates; sleeping in his tee shirts while he’s away, stealing glances at one another, shoulders always touching on train rides, still blushing whenever your hands brush, being his personal cheerleader, having a mailbox with both your names on it, at home haircuts, rainy day dates; softly kissing each other awake; candid photos, monthly anniversary gifts, a comforting touch always close at hand. You two are Orpheus and Eurydice, willing to plunge the depths of hell to stay together.

Iwaizumi Hajime: late night FaceTimes, learning to skateboard, insulting one another as a love language, stuttering out “I love yous”, couple workouts, being in each other’s profile pictures, bullying each other at any given moment, double dates, matching denim jackets, couple outfit of the day posts, melting into his arms, airport reunions, stealing his food during dates, the laid back couple; stealing his hoodies, long walks filled with easy conversation, having a dog as a child, being dubbed “Iwaizumi’s cool partner,” wherever you go; late night convenience store runs, sunrise hikes, arm wrestling competitions to win arguments, protective arms around your waist as you sleep, unironically calling him “Iwa-Chan”; cheesy Disneyland California couple photos, staying up with him as he studies for exams, rubbing the tension out of his shoulders, listening to his old Seijoh stories, being loved by Makki, Mattsun and Oikawa, resting a comforting hand on his chest, taking pictures of him in the background at sports events, taking pride in everything each other does. Not so much saying it love you,’ but seeing it. You two are the moon and the ocean; tidally locked with one another, and never wanting it any other way.

Ushijima Wakatoshi: taping his matches on tv, wearing his coats when he’s away, champagne flutes, fancy dinner parties, the classy couple; musky, dark cologne, tacky souvenirs from countries he’s visited, indoor plants everywhere, cooking breakfast together whenever possible, courtside seats at his games, peaceful silences, quiet vacations, fancy dinner dates, pearl necklaces, first class flights, monogrammed luggage, smiling at your shared last name, french manicures, laced hands, moonlit walks, promise rings, handwritten letters, traditional weddings, feather light kisses to your knuckles; listening to his voice to fall asleep, mindless touches, secret smiles, ironic heart emojis, learning each other’s love language, sitting in his lap while he watches matches, coming home together after long days apart, fluffy white robes, his and hers sinks, forehead kisses, patiences, evenings spent reminiscing with Shiratorizawa, never losing sight of what’s important: each other. Accepting him no matter what, squeezing his hand for reassurance, saying ‘goodbye’ just so you can say ‘hello’. You two are like wild ivy, growing and entangling in one other until you’ve become one.

Tendou Satori: watching anime until the sun comes up, taping his bruised fingers, singing his impromptu songs, cheering loudly for him at games, exchanging memes for hours, the silly couple; walking home with swinging intertwined hands, comic shop dates, playful banter, calling him “miracle boy” with a seriousness that makes him blush; bullying Goshiki, amusement park dates, stuffed animal presents, incoherent love notes, keeping pictures of you in his wallet, making chocolates in the dead of night, singing loudly in the shower, tickle fights, sneaking into his dorm when you can’t sleep, coming to his defense whenever, wherever; spit shakes, inside jokes, teasing whispers, learning tiktok dances, anime hoodies, cooing over his baby pictures, protective glares, shoulder touches, identical laughter, falling deeper in love with every passing second. You two are a hurricane; a force to be reckoned with with no intentions of stopping.

Bokuto Kotarou: Being Akaashi’s worst nightmare, screaming songs in the car together, throwing rocks at each others windows in the dark, laughing on the phone underneath blankets, kisses every time you see each other; the inseparable couple; always knowing when he needs a hug, playing with his hair, wearing his jersey to volleyball matches, spoiling him at any chance, staying in bed an extra five minutes, trying new restaurants every other day, getting lost in the city for hours, constant snapchats, good morning texts, surprise visits at work, piggy back rides, ice cream on summer days, friendship bracelets, comedy movies, Polaroid pictures, bear hugs, beach dates, sleeping with his head in the crook of your neck. Hands always touching, nose kisses, spikes dedicated to you, air kisses across crowded stadiums, posing for paparazzi, the entire world knowing your name because he can’t keep your name out of his mouth for ten seconds. You two are remnants of the same star, finding one another across space and time.

Semi Eita: dyed hair, eyebrow piercings, walls lined with guitars, dive bars, muffled singing from the shower, sake shots, world tours, chain necklaces, wearing his merchandise, karaoke dates, fishnet stockings, luxury hotels,the sexy couple; being his muse, velvet sofas, singing duets in the kitchen while making breakfast, dazzling smiles, having a makeshift recording studio in your living room, papers littered with song lyrics, starving artist budgets, breakthroughs at 4am, meeting his old teammates at concerts, silly audio recordings of meaningless conversations, “babe, listen to this!” the intimacy of sharing headphones, pressing kisses to his calloused fingertips, having more amps than furniture, spending hours in comfortable silence untangling his chords, the rush of listening to his new songs, constantly being on your toes, kisses that make your heart stop, being so proud of him. Long days spent slaving over work, his soft voice smooth like honey. Agonizing practices, staying by his side no matter what. You two are Bonnie and Clyd; absolute ride or dies through thick and thin.

Kozume Kenma: watching all his videos, popping by work to give him lunch, singing softly while doing laundry at his house, making out in his gaming chair, soft, the intuitive couple; teasing fingers up your thigh, expensive gifts, housewife jokes, blanket burritos, at home dates, Speedrunning videos games, botched apple pies, having delivery on speed dial, curling his hair behind his ear before kisses, cat cafes, Gucci sunglasses, jamming to video game soundtracks, DND game nights, being in the background of his live streams, owning cats like children, bingeing on convenience store snacks, horror movie marathons, making fun of Kuroo, carding your hands through his growing hair, quick, stolen kisses, feeling completely at home with one another; watching cartoons till one am, matching stickers on your Nintendo switches, animal crossing weddings, sharing scarves, waking up curled into each other with the afternoon sun through your blinds, genuine and ugly laughter; smiles so soft you think you’re imaging them, listening to him pour his heart out about a game that broke him; ever laughing at him, slowly slipping to sleep while he plays video games, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. You two are video game protagonists, falling in love like the universe intended you to.

Suna Rintaro: Black sports cars, luxury apartments, Adidas track pants, fresh Nike sneakers, black and white everything; the aesthetic couple; matching outfits, silver rings, flashing lights, hazy bars, rolled blunts, hip hop beats rattling through your car speakers, late night texts, slow, languid kisses; rainy days, bedroom eyes, button down shirts, chipped nail polish, saying “bruh,” instead of “babe,” petty insults, wandering hands, dipping out of family reunions, noise complaints, throwing snacks into each other’s mouths, having your orders known at a restaurant, red solo cups, ash trays, house parties, spinning a record and listening to it for hours, laying on the floor with nothing to do; silk sheets, midnight drives, stupid jokes, lazy smiles, fist bumps, the inherent romanticism of not being romantic; bathroom selfies, upsetting the twins, always being one the same page, wilted flowers, tracing the outline of his lips before diving in for a kiss, trusting one another completely. You two are silver screen lovers, having the romance all teenagers would die to have.

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nightofthemeteor · 4 years

Text

Falconry/Bonsai

(Also here on AO3)

“Tobirama, can you come help me with something?”

“What?” came the disgruntled answer from down the hall.

Hashirama stuck his head out the door. “I need you to take a picture for my Instagram!”

He could hear his little brother stomping down the hallway, so Hashirama returned to his table and picked up a pair of pruning shears, considering the lighting in the room and the best angle to take a photo. A moment later, Tobirama walked into the room, saw Hashirama, and immediately turned around and walked out.

“Hey! Come back!”

“No way,” said Tobirama, without turning around. “I am not taking a picture of you in your underwear.”

“I’m not in only my underwear!” Hashirama protested. “I’m wearing a shirt!” Granted, it was the shortest shirt he owned, and it did leave a substantial strip of skin bare, but still.

“Can I ask,” Tobirama said witheringly, stopped in the doorway but without turning around, “Why you’re posing for a half-naked picture to put on your gardening blog? Don’t tell me you’re that desperate for exposure.” He was forced to turn around for this last part, because he had to raise his eyebrows at Hashirama to make sure he got the double entendre.

“Very funny, Tobirama. No, it’s not for more followers.” Although that could be a nice side effect, come to think of it. “It’s a…” Hashirama knew there was a word for this, if only he could remember – “Thirst trap!” he announced, proud of himself for getting the terminology right.

Tobirama wrinkled his nose. “Please never say that again, Anija. Do I know the person you’re posting this for?”

“Nah – I just met him yesterday! I ran into him on the subway as I was bringing home this very bonsai.” Hashirama affectionately patted the pot containing his newest leafy charge, a lovely boxwood tree rescued from the back shelves of a garden store on the other side of town. “I’m telling you, Tobirama, this tree is good luck!”

“Are you out of your mind, Anija? You gave your Instagram handle to some random stranger on the subway, and now you’re posting – ” Tobirama made a vague, sort of circular gesture to encompass Hashirama’s general state of undress “ – for him to see? I’m begging you to have just a shred of common sense.”

“No, this guy is fine, I promise! I have excellent judgement about this sort of thing.” Tobirama crossed his arms and gave him a flat look that said, Your judgement is terrible and we both know it. Hashirama sighed. “If you help me, I’ll buy you that expensive, iced coffee you like,” he wheedled.

“Two coffees,” Tobirama snapped. “And when you end up with some creepy stalker, I’m not going to help you.”

“Yes! Thank you!” Hashirama shoved his phone into Tobirama’s hands before he could change his mind and struck a pose next to the boxwood, shears in hand. He’d just finished pruning the tree, in fact – this picture was to show off his handiwork with the bonsai, too. The guy on the subway - Madara, he'd said his name was - had asked about it, after all. “Is the shape of the tree still good from that angle?”

“It’s fine,” Tobirama sighed in exasperation, and then, apparently resigned to his role, added: “Maybe turn it clockwise a little.”

Hashirama complied, spending a few more seconds arranging the miniature branches. “Did you get your exam marks back yet?” he asked, to keep Tobirama occupied while he fussed with the tree.

“Just got my mark for organic chem,” his brother replied, lips pressed together in an angry pout. “One point away from perfect. I swear, that TA was just trying to find some excuse to take marks away; he was a huge asshole to me all semester, just because I pointed out his synthesis problems had more than one correct solution.”

That explained why Tobirama was even grumpier than usual. “Well, you must have done an excellent job, if this TA could only find one point to take away,” Hashirama tried, in an attempt to mollify him; Tobirama’s stony expression remained unchanged. “Plus, the year is over, so you’ll never have to deal with him again!”

That got a grudging half-smile out of Tobirama. “Yeah – at least there’s that. Are you ready, Anija? I want to get this over with.”

---

The picture was…it was…different from the majority of Hashirama’s posts. Madara had been stalking his Instagram for the past half hour – was it really stalking if the guy had given him his handle and invited him to look for updates on the bonsai he’d been carrying? Probably not, right? – Madara had been looking at his Instagram for the past half hour, and it was all innocent pictures of trees, flowers, and houseplants, meticulously cared for and clearly thriving. Occasionally, Hashirama’s smiling face appeared in the background of a photo, or his hand showed up in a close-up to showcase some clippings, but there was nothing like…that. Broad shoulders in a loosely draped shirt; smooth skin over taut muscle at his stomach; sharp hipbones leading down to –

“What are you looking at, Nii-san?”

Madara jumped, fumbled his phone, and dropped it onto his chest. “Izuna! How many times do I have to tell you to knock?”

“Oh, it was porn? Sorry,” said Izuna, sticking his face obnoxiously through the crack between Madara’s bedroom door and the wall.

“It wasn’t porn,” Madara replied reflexively, before realizing that not only was he now going to have to provide an explanation, but he sort of had been looking at porn. Almost. “It’s this guy I met yesterday,” Madara mumbled at his phone. “I'm on his Instagram.”

“You met someone?!” Izuna exclaimed in delight. Madara sighed – there was no keeping his little brother out of his business now. Sure enough, Izuna threw open his door the rest of the way and bounded over to sit next to Madara on the bed. “How did this miracle occur?”

“It was…kind of accidental.” Madara wasn’t exactly the sociable type, and he certainly didn’t strike up conversations with strangers on public transit – in fact, he usually did his best to maintain a menacing aura so that people didn’t talk to him. But yesterday, after staring for probably a solid five minutes at the impressively muscled forearms of the guy standing in front of him, Madara had realized even those muscles might get tired of holding an entire bonsai tree, and he should probably offer the guy his seat. The man had accepted the offer with a very genuine-sounding thanks, and then had proceeded to flash Madara an implausibly sunny grin, gesture to the bonsai in his lap, and say, “Trees-ed to meet you!”. The line was so terrible Madara hadn't been able to let it go without comment, and before he knew what was happening, he’d been talking to the guy for twenty minutes and had acquired his Instagram handle.

“Well, can I see a picture?” Izuna demanded.

Madara winced, rapidly weighed his options, and reluctantly unlocked his phone to show Izuna the picture he’d been looking at. Izuna, shockingly, didn’t comment on the nature of the photo, but squinted down at it and said, “Hm…I think I know that guy.”

“You do?”

“I’m pretty sure I met him on campus one time, when I was waiting for your lab to finish. He was waiting for someone too, so we chatted for a few minutes. Nice guy.”

With sudden, dawning horror, Madara asked, “Was he hitting on you?”

“No, no! Nothing like that. I think he’s just a friendly type of person.”

Well, a man who flirted with anything that moved – or worse, Izuna – would have been a crushing disappointment, but a ‘friendly type of person’ was nearly as bad. Hashirama had given him his Instagram handle and told him to watch for a post with an update on ‘his’ bonsai, and said bonsai update had included a half-naked Hashirama. Madara had nearly dared to interpret that as interest…but if Hashirama was just a ‘friendly type of person,’ Madara could have been reading the cues entirely wrong. Perhaps their conversation yesterday had just been a fun way to pass the time, and the photo was intended for somebody else.

As if reading his mind, Izuna said, “You should ask him out for drinks or something.”

“I followed his Instagram,” Madara announced, “And that is exactly the number of moves I am willing to make. I’m busy, you know – I can’t go chasing all the time like you.” Just one of many excellent reasons to save that picture for his fantasies and never meet the real person ever again.

“You just finished marking all your exams,” Izuna countered. “I know you’re not that busy. Come on, Nii-san, be reasonable: when are you ever going to get another chance like this again?”

“Thanks for that, Izuna,” Madara muttered. Who said he was even interested in dating, anyways? Relationships were messy, confusing, and time-consuming; not at all worth the hassle –

Madara’s phone buzzed. Instagram message from Hashirama: Hey, sorry if this is presumptuous, but do you want to meet up for drinks sometime?

Madara stared at his screen. Then, disbelieving, he held out the phone for Izuna to read. A stunned moment of silence, and then Izuna shrieked, “You have to go!”

Well, maybe this wasn’t quite as complicated as Madara had feared. Izuna was right; he wasn’t that busy. Pursing his lips in concentration, Madara typed out a reply.

---

Tobirama had been completely wrong, as it turned out: Madara was neither a creep nor a stalker. He was a grad student with an acerbic tongue, passionate opinions, and a lovely embarrassed blush. Hashirama had become so absorbed in the conversation he’d completely forgotten to order more drinks, which was seriously unlike him – although, since he’d made up his mind to pay for the date, it was probably for the best.

“I can’t believe I’m here,” Madara remarked abruptly, somewhere around hour three or four.

“You mean existentially?”

“Literally here, in a bar, having drinks with you,” Madara clarified. “I mean – my younger brother is convinced I’m incapable of socializing. He was probably planning to set me up with one of his friends from…art school…” He leveled a suspicious glare at Hashirama as he said these last few words. “He didn’t put you up to this, did he? What’s he paying you?”

“It wasn’t your brother,” said Hashirama seriously. “It was the bonsai.”

“The bonsai paid you to take me out for drinks?”

“The bonsai brought us together.” Hashirama raised his glass; Madara followed suit, looking a little bemused but playing along, nonetheless. “To the bonsai!” Hashirama announced. He drained his glass, surreptitiously watched the way Madara’s throat moved as he drank, and thought. Tobirama would definitely judge him for thinking it, but though Hashirama barely knew Madara, he felt an immediate connection to him. He didn’t want to lose this opportunity.

“Madara,” he said. Madara looked at him with his dark, expressive eyes, shadows from his hair falling across his face, and Hashirama bit his lip. Careful, he thought. “I really am glad you’re here, in this bar, having drinks with me.”

Madara flushed again, his cheeks and the tips of his ears turning red; Hashirama wondered if he could make Madara flush anywhere else. “I’m glad, too,” he said, low and a little shaky, as though he was unused to saying things like that.

Hashirama immediately abandoned his caution of just a moment before and said, “Do you want to get out of here? We can go to my place – my brother won’t be home.”

“Yes,” said Madara. “Yes, definitely.”

---

Hashirama had the bonsai – Madara’s bonsai, the one he’d toasted that evening – set up in pride of place in his bedroom. That should have prompted Madara to suspect Hashirama had planned for this to happen, and make him annoyed at Hashirama’s confidence. He should also have been a lot more panicked when he looked at Hashirama’s face, sleepy and content, with his previously immaculate hair tangled on the pillow, and felt a tug somewhere under his sternum. Instead, he looked at that bonsai on his way out of the room and thought, Thanks.

Hashirama’s apartment wasn’t very large, considering it housed two people, but it was still annoying to search for the bathroom in an unfamiliar place. Madara had been sure Hashirama had told him it was down the hall on the left, but now he was in the entranceway. He was about to retrace his steps and try again when he heard a key jingling in the door.

“Hey, Anija, I just came back for – ” The man in the doorway spotted Madara and froze. Madara, too, had frozen in horror, because even in the dim light he’d immediately recognized Hashirama’s brother.

“You!” yelped Senju Tobirama.

“No,” Madara said, backing up a step. “Absolutely not.”

Tobirama pointed an accusing finger at him. “I was supposed to be done with you!” he hissed. “You took off that one mark on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Oh, because you think all your solutions are perfect, do you?” He’d certainly acted that way all through that torturous organic chemistry class.

“Tobirama?” came Hashirama’s concerned voice from the hallway.

“Tell me you’re not sleeping with my TA, Anija!” Tobirama practically wailed, and suddenly, Madara’s annoyance at the appearance of his least favourite student was replaced with pure schadenfreude.

“I’m afraid he very much is,” he said, before Hashirama could reply. “So you’d better get used to seeing a lot of me.” And to his great satisfaction, he watched Hashirama’s face brighten in delight, and Tobirama’s drop in utter horror.

#I don't actually know how instagram works but i did my best #inspired by art by thelistening #plus the time the two of us had to lug a huge lavender tree on the subway #hashimada happenings 2020 #hashimada #naruto #my writing

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sad-sweet-cowboah · 4 years

Text

My Little Secret part 8

Summary: Filled to the brim with curiosity, you find out more about Arthur’s life and, well, afterlife. All the while you share some tender moments with him.

Warnings: It’s just fluff kiddos.

For the first time you could not wait to get to work. Excitement and anxiety took hold of you in anticipation of your next meeting with Arthur. Even when you woke up the next morning, your mind still reeled with the amount of information you received the night before.

Not only was Arthur a vampire, but he was also a famous outlaw. A double whammy that classified as both interesting and terrifying. You had so many more questions, an incomprehensible amount that would not even be covered in just one night.

As you headed out of the building, you heard a voice call to you from across the courtyard. You turned to see Sam jogging toward you, a huge smile on her face. She slowed down to fall in step with you.

“Hey Y/N!” Sam greeted somewhat breathlessly. “So… tell me how it went!”

“How what went?”

“Your date, silly!” Sam giggled. “Come on, give me all the juicy details!”

“Oh,” you said rather sheepishly. God, what could you even say? “It was… interesting.” You finally answered.

Sam’s eyes narrowed in suspicion at your tone. “What happened? Did it turn out he was a douche?”

“No not at all!” you rebutted. “The opposite actually. I learned… so much more about him than I thought I would.”

Sam’s eyebrows raised. “Ooh, did you sleep with him?”

“No Sam,” you sighed. “He’s just such a peculiar guy. So much more different than anyone I’ve ever dated before, but that’s what makes him so interesting.”

“Different how?” Sam pressed with curiosity.

You hesitated, unsure how to exactly word it without giving too much away. You thought for another moment before speaking again. “He doesn’t follow a conventional lifestyle, has a whole completely different diet even. Had a bit of a… wild past.”

“You make it sound like he’s part of a convent or something.” Sam said with a giggle.

You rolled your eyes, knowing full well it was the complete opposite. Could he even step foot inside a church? “That he definitely isn’t. But I’m still learning more about him, he said he might swing by my work later.”

“Wow, sounds like he’s really got a thing for you, visiting you while you’re sticky with liquor,” Sam laughed. “Next thing you know you’ll be walking down the aisle!”

You scoffed and gave her a gentle elbow nudge, though you couldn’t hide the smile on your face. “We’ll see how it goes.”

You spoke with Sam for a few more minutes before parting ways. You had a few hours until work and a large load of homework that weighed you down both physically and mentally. You made your way back to your apartment and settled with a cup of tea, ready to pore into your studies.

It impressed how much you’d gotten done in the span of two hours. There was only a month left in the school year, meaning final exams were soon around the corner. You were taking the time to wrap up projects you should have completed already, only your mind had been too warped thinking of Arthur. You managed to keep thoughts of him at bay until you were satisfied with the amount of work you’d completed for the day.

As you ate dinner and prepared for work afterward, your mind was flittering with questions you were preparing to ask him. Hell, what would be the first one? How many could you get through before your break was up? Would he still be around after you clocked out for the night?

You stopped yourself. There was still a chance he may not show up tonight at all, which spurred you to wonder about his job. What did his job entail specifically, and what jobs did vampires even hold? Were they something completely crazy or were they jobs similar to what regular humans had? You found yourself pondering too deeply, as an hour passed and you had an entire discussion with yourself on theoretical vampire politics.

Good thing you didn’t have a roommate.

You left afterward, your mind on autopilot as more questions and theories spread through it. You considered his life beforehand and how much you’d learned: an infamous outlaw from one of the most notorious gangs in history who made his mark in more ways than one in the state of Lemoyne. Why was he turned and when? Records mention he was last seen alive in 1899, assumed to have died. So what events transpired to lead to his final moments as a human?

Maybe you should write them all down when you have a chance.

You arrived at work sooner than you anticipated. Despite it being a weekday, it was karaoke night at the bar, which meant a usually heavier crowd. Tuesdays were generally a favorite night to work since you had to appreciate the patrons who were drunk enough to go up and sing. You settled yourself behind the bar as the first few of the night began to pile in. The sun was low in the sky, and you wondered when exactly he would wake up.

You kept yourself busy for the first few hours, passing out multiple beers and bar snacks while listening to the entertainment. The karaoke crowd was always the same few people, all of which had decent voices so it wasn’t a dreadful evening. You found yourself glancing at the door every time it opened, once again feeling both excitement and disappointment when you found each new body was not him.

Until it was.

You swore the atmosphere changed the moment Arthur stepped in. He seemed to have a different gait than everyone else, you noticed. Light on his feet and quick moments that reminded you almost of a big cat. You guessed in some weird way, he was.

His eyes locked onto you and smiled, making his way over to the bar. Once he reached it he pulled up a seat, placing himself in front of you. “Hey Y/N.” he greeted.

“Hey yourself,” you responded with a smile of your own, leaning on the bar. “Glad you came.”

“Glad I haven’t scared you off.” He jokingly countered.

Your smile widened, and you glanced back at your other coworkers in case any of them were watching. “So…uh, want a drink?” you offered with a shrug.

Arthur hesitated for a moment with a thoughtful look. “Did say I’d indulge, but I’d hate for a good whiskey to go to waste.”

You giggled at his reply. “Alright Mr. Morgan, you gonna sing instead?” you tilted your head toward the DJ booth. An older man stood up there, singing some old country song.

Arthur turned toward the show in curiosity, observing the man for a good moment before he shook his head. “I ain’t much of a singer,” He chuckled. “Least not in a long time.”

“Well, I guess you can just enjoy the entertainment then,” you said and then dropped your voice. “By the way, my break’s in an hour. I’ll be out back.”

He nodded once, flashing a subtle smile before he moved away from the bar.

And that next hour moved much slower than you liked. Despite having enough patrons to keep a steady workflow, your eyes kept drifting over to Arthur. He would watch the singers, nod his head to the beats of the songs, but would otherwise keep to himself. He moved around every once in a while, sometimes passing by you to briefly catch your gaze before wandering off into the crowd.

Once the clock struck to the next hour, you practically leapt over the bar to escape. After a quick bathroom and drink break, you made your way outside into the humid air. Even though the place was air conditioned, the amount of people would often make the air feel stuffy. You breathed in and leaned against the cool brick wall, your eyes scanning across the parking lot. Within moments you caught the familiar sight of his motorcycle, and you remembered with a jolt you’d left it behind at the restaurant last night.

“Hey.”

You flinched from his voice, turning to see him appearing out of the darkness almost silently. “Jesus,” you breathed, resting your hand over your heart. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he said with a slight chuckle, sidling up to you. “I tend to forget I don’t move like a normal human.”

Normal human. Those words sent a shiver up your spine, stirring up those memories of last night. A predator with a human face. You shouldn’t be afraid at this point, and you grounded yourself by reaching for his hand and interlacing your fingers with his. He didn’t hesitate to reciprocate. Little touches and moments to remind you he still has human emotions.

“How was your day?” he asked quietly.

You shrugged. “Same old, school then work. Boring as usual. How was yours?” you began, then realized it was a stupid thing to ask. “I mean – shit.”

He smiled in amusement. “Been nice so far, I get to see you.” He answered.

“Do you work tonight?” you asked next, thankful he didn’t make a fuss from your stupidity.

Arthur shrugged. “I’m on-call, I guess you could say. That don’t stop me from enjoying life’s pleasures though.” He gently raised your hand to his face, planting a sweet kiss on the back of it. Your heart fluttered in response.

“On-call,” you repeated. “Are you a doctor or something?”

“Or somethin’,” he replied lowly. “Anyway, I believe you had more questions to ask?”

As soon as he said that, your mind completely blanked. That entire mental list had disappeared within an instant. You frowned, trying to think of one, just any one, and failed. “Uh –” you paused. “What’s your favorite color?” you blurted out, inwardly cringing at yourself.

Another chuckle rumbled in his throat. “Blue, like the sky durin’ the day,” he answered with a sigh. “Somethin’ I miss a lot.”

Oh, maybe that wasn’t a good question to start with. “Sorry.”

He shook his head, smiling at you once again. “You’re alright, sweetheart. Got about 150 years’ worth of memories, ya know.”

Over a century. It however spiked up some of the prior inquiries you had. “So… what was your life like before you – er, turned?”

He leaned his head back against the wall, tilting his head up as his eyes searched the night sky. A look of faint longing crossed his face. His lips parted for a moment though no words accompanied it, as if he were trying to search for the right ones. “Well, I…” he trailed off, fixing his gaze to you. “How ‘bout you tell me what ya know, Y/N. That way I can confirm or disprove.”

The turnaround surprised you, however it made sense. Facts can become fiction over the course of time. “I know the most obvious, that you were an outlaw. You ran with the Van der Linde gang. You committed some heinous crimes of your time.”

Arthur nodded. “Any bounty poster or internet search coulda told ya that. What else?”

You took a deep breath, taking mental steps backward to the past few weeks. The museum in Saint Denis, Shady Belle, the library. Every place visited told the same story of him, the same few factoids without delving much into his personal life. It felt as if you were being quizzed.

“To be honest, there’s not much about you in history,” You admitted. “At least from what I’ve seen so far.”

“Wouldn’t expect otherwise,” he mumbled. “Back then people like me were a blemish to society, best left forgotten over time.”

“So were you really as cruel and heartless as history says?” you continue.

His smile turned rueful. “There was a time that I thought I was. I hurt a lot of people, killed even more…” he turned his head to face forward. There was an emotion in his eyes you couldn’t detect. “But I weren’t some killin’ machine. Didn’t like doin’ it, but I had to. I… we helped people too. As Dutch used to put it, ‘we save people that need savin’.”

“Really?”

He turned to look at you once again. “That surprise ya?”

“I…” you hesitated in thought. “A lot is surprising me these days.”

He huffed out hollow laugh. “Fair ‘nough. That life led to some interestin’ adventures. Robbed banks, trains, stagecoaches. Lived in multiple states when tryin’ to escape the law. Met some interestin’ folk along the way, took in a lot of ‘em too.”

“That’s something I learned, that many of you were just people looking for something better.” You remarked.

“Yeah, a bunch o’ lost souls fed with the promise we’d have a better life, only it ended with more bloodshed. Some were luckier than others, got out to live peacefully. Me, well…” he trailed off once more and gestured to himself with his free hand.

“You were turned.” You finished for him.

“Yes.” He nodded.

It fell silent between the two of you, and you pondered what to ask next. You chewed on your lip for a moment as a myriad formed in your head, many of which could possibly seem too prying or personal. Should you ask more about his life as an outlaw or about after he turned?

“You okay?” he asked, taking note of your silence.

You blinked, turning to look at him. “I am, I just…I’m not sure what to ask next.”

“Haven’t scared you any, have I?” he cautiously asked.

You shook your head. “Not since last night,” you joked with a giggle. “But there’s so much more to find out, like – when were you turned?”

“1899.” he said simply.

Well that made sense. “Okay, so how old are you?”

“36, like I said,” he continued. “Well…that’s how old I was when I turned. But I’ve physically been on this earth for 157 years.”

“And you don’t age?” you pondered, your eyes once again observing the faint wrinkles and scars that decorated his face.

“Nah, I’ve had this same unfortunate face for the past 121 years.” He shrugged.

You frowned at his response. Why did he always seem to talk down about his looks? “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Acting as if you’re hideous when you’re not.” You pointed out.

Arthur shook his head in disbelief, a dry half smile crossing his lips that highlighted it. “Old habits I guess. Never had a high opinion o’ myself, hadn’t changed much over the years. Still surprises me that you wanna be with me, all things considerin’.”

You sighed heavily, reaching to take his other hand. You held them both, meeting his eyes directly as he stared at you in faint curiosity. “Arthur, I happen to think you’re easily one of the most handsome men I’ve ever met, that’s the truth. And…vampire, outlaw, whatever or not…I think you’re worth being with.”

Surprise shadowed Arthur’s face at your words, and then a shy smile crossed his lips as he ducked his head, expressing a short laugh. “You’re sweet, Y/N. Too sweet for my own good…” he let out a low breath and tugged you toward him, which you offered no resistance. His hands broke from yours and his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you so lightly to draw you in for a kiss.

You melted to his touch immediately, your own arms sliding around his neck to lock him to you. His lips moved against yours with little effort, his hands tightening just a smidge. His cool touch sent tingles along your bare skin. Your fingers threaded through his hair, prodding him to deepen the kiss. His tongue briefly met yours, sparking something deep in you that you wanted to chase.

He then parted his lips from yours, pulling his head back just enough to look into your eyes. Those blue-green hues were so gorgeous that it left you breathless. One hand left your waist to rest on your cheek, his thumb smoothing across the raise of your cheekbone. “Forgot what it was like to be like this…” he murmured.

“Like what?” you whispered, your mind still reeling.

“Bein’ sweet on someone,” he said, and noted your look of confusion. “Bein’ in a relationship, I mean.”

You tilted your head. “How long has it been for you?”

“Long time,” he sighed. “Lost count in years when they start to mold together.”

Your eyebrows raised. “Really? I find that hard to believe with someone as good looking as you.”

He exhaled a small chuckle. “I’ll admit some women have…tried over the years. Never did look at ‘em twice.”

“So what makes me different?” you ask, smiling a little.

Arthur tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, his smile mirroring yours. “You’re the first person to speak to me in a while. I tend to avoid most folk, but I won’t turn down a good conversation. Somethin’ about ya jus’ kept drawin’ me back. Your curiosity ‘bout me. Your excitement ‘bout your dreams n’ ambitions. And I ‘spose one o’ us has to be pretty.”

You giggled shyly, turning your eyes away from him for a brief moment. “Didn’t think I wasn’t all that special either.”

“Gotta say you’re wrong, sweetheart.” Arthur said to you. “More interestin’ than me.”

You laughed at his statement. “Now that I highly doubt, Mr. Morgan.” At that same moment, your phone vibrated in your pocket. It was the alarm you’d set to remind you to get back to work. Shoot, had your break passed that quickly? You sighed heavily and retrieved your phone to turn it off.

“Guessin’ you gotta get back inside.” Arthur said as a statement rather than a question.

You nodded solemnly, peering back up at him with disappointment. “I still have so much more I wanna find out.” You murmured.

His other hand raised to rest on your cheek, gently cradling your face in his grasp. “Always next time.”

You nodded. Tomorrow you had a morning class, which meant no time for idle chitchat after work. You were also working the next two nights, and it wouldn’t be fair to have him come here a second night when he had no concrete reason to stay other than to talk to you. “I’m free on Friday, if you wanna meet up again.”

A warm smile touched his lips. “Sure, where?”

“My house, doesn’t seem very proper to go out somewhere conventional when only one of us can eat.” You pointed out.

He laughed at your response. “’Spose so. Anyway, I won’t keep ya much longer…” he leaned forward to place a kiss on your forehead before his mouth traveled down to meet yours, eliciting such gentle tenderness in nearly made your head spin. He stepped back, releasing you. “Go on. Don’t want ya gettin’ in trouble.”

God, all you wanted to do was to stand out here and kiss him forever. Biting back a sigh, you bid him goodbye before glancing at the parking lot. The motorcycle stirred up the thought you had earlier. “Oh, you got your bike back. I forgot about it last night…”

“There’s perks of bein’ what I am,” he replied with a small smirk. “Cars n’ such ain’t a necessity to us, they’re jus’ fun to drive around.”

That certainly set an ease to the momentary concern of accidentally stranding him. “What, you turn into a bat?”

He snorted. “Nah, that’s jus’ fiction. Some things we made up ourselves.”

You tilted your head in confusion. “Well, alright. Even more to find out. See you Friday, Arthur.”

He nodded, the amusement still plain on his face. “See ya Friday, darlin’.”

#Arthur Morgan x reader #vampire AU #Arthur Morgan #vampire!Arthur

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retroateez · 4 years

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Prophecy - Chapter Ten

i’ve been so excited to introduce this character purely because i’m absolutely whipped for him,,, hope u enjoy xx

wc;3542 Prophecy Masterlist

The next morning, you and Yeosang prepare yourselves for the final hurdle of your journey, the mage believing that you'll arrive just before sunset.

"Why can't you just teleport us there?" you ask him as you wolf down a bowl of porridge at the bar downstairs. "Or are you just trying to torture me?"

"It drains too much of my energy to move two people such a long distance," he explains. "There's a cost with magic."

You nod, finishing your breakfast as Yeosang double checks you haven't forgotten anything.

"What do you think happened to that bear?" you look around cautiously as you exit the tavern, scared that the beast will come lumbering around the corner and separate your head and your shoulders with ease like a mangled children's toy.

"I don't know," Yeosang shrugs. "somebody might've hunted it."

The mage's hypothesis does nothing to soothe your worries, still anxiously peering into the woods around you. You cast your mind back to your dream, remembering the image of the wounded bear, wanting nothing more to put your new mecidinal skills to use and patch him up. You have to keep reminding yourself that it was merely a dream, that the bear was fine and there was no gushing cut on his neck.

Still, you stay glued to Yeosang's side as he marches along the dirt path, ignoring your pleas to play another game to take your mind off the poor beast lurking in the forest.

More hours pass, consisting of nothing other than walking, except for Yeosang pausing momentarily to gather various plants along the side of the road. He spends countless minutes explaining the uses of hellebore petals, moleyarrow plants and nostrix leaves, tearing them apart and rubbing them between his fingers like they're spun from solid gold.

Of course you take no notice of what he's saying, which, of course he notices.

"These'll be on your next alchemy exam!" Yeosang declares. "Just to spite you for not listening to me!"

You huff and storm ahead of him, crossing your arms heavily to make a childish statement, which doesn't faze the mage in the slightest. Chuckling at your antics, he catches up to you and slings an arm around your shoulders.

"Awh, is little Iris sulking?" he teases you, and you press your lips together in an effort to completely ignore him.

He reaches round to poke your cheek, and you meet his ribcage with your elbow in response, smirking when you hear him exhale a small grunt of pain.

"I'm not sulking," you stick your tongue out at him. "Are we nearly there yet?"

Nursing his freshly bruised torso with a pout, he nods at you and points to his left with his free hand.

"See that tower?" he mumbles through the pain, and you nod when your eyesight lands on a pointed roof just on the horizon. "He lives there."

Seeing your destination within reach lifts your spirits back up, and you slap Yeosang on the back in encouragement, dismissing the way he doubles over and coughs into his knees.

"Hurry up, teach!" you call. "We've got an astrolomer to see!"

-----

The home of the astrologer is more beautiful than you could ever have imagined. You're stood at the beginning of a winding, cobblestone path, which leads to a wooden door in the main building of the house. Comprised of stone bricks, the primary feature is the tower. Taller than you can comprehend, the tower is circular, a few arched windows dotted in place of the brick. The main building is square, and honestly it would look like a completely normal house if not for the gigantic spire connected to it.

Ivy meanders up the stone walls, growing out of an overwhelming amount of undergrowth surrounding the entire structure. The amount of greenery is stunning and you can feel the excitement radiating off of Yeosang at the sheer thought of how many rare plants could be hiding in all that foliage.

Looking up, you spot a faint orange glow in the very top window of the tower, and you suppose that your certain somebody must be home.

Yeosang leads you along the curved footpath, marvelling at the growths of flowers and ferns spread out throughout the astrologer's garden.

"I might have to borrow some of these petals when we leave..." Yeosang trails off, lightening flickering around his pupils uncontrollably.

You roll your eyes at him and lift an arm up to knock confidently on the door, but the mage lightly grabs your arm and pulls it back.

"Just go in," he instructs you. "If he's up in the tower he won't be able to hear you anyway."

"But that's rude!" you counter. "You can't just charge into somebodies house!"

"Why not? It's not like we mean any harm!"

"Well he doesn't know that, does h-"

"Ahem."

Lost in your bickering with Yeosang, neither you nor the mage notice the wooden door swing open, and you certainly don't notice the man standing on the other side.

And you're not sure how you missed him, because you've never seen anyone as beautiful as him. Sure, Seonghwa, the kingsguard, was exeptionally handsome, but in a tall, dark way. And Yeosang was pretty, but in a soft, comforting way. But this stranger was something else, something entirely ethereal like he's stepped straight of a children's fairytale book. and you couldn't do anything except for stare at him, mouth agape from having your speech abruptly interrupted and being absolutely bewildered.

You scan over his face, and you're aware that he knows you're watching him, and he's aware that you're aware of that. But you really don't care.

His hair is inky black, mirroring the night sky on a clear night and you've half a mind to run your fingers through it and see if you can map out the constellations within the strands.

"Can I help you?" the stranger speaks and your knees would've buckled if you weren't frozen to the spot, your mind completely boggled. You're embarrassed, to be frank. One person shouldn't have such an affect on you, but he does and you don't know how to handle it.

"Hello!" you blurt. "Help?"

His eyes snap to you questioningly, and it's only then you notice the way they sparkle a gorgeous amethyst purple. You don't think he could get any better. The concern he's glaring at you with is outshined by how beautiful his everything is and you momentarily forget how much of a fool you look. That is, until Yeosang grabs you by the arm.

"Are you okay?" he asks. "You've gone really pale."

You keep your gaze fixed on the astrologer, whose overgrown, midnight black hair falls into his eyes when he moves forward a bit to get a closer glance at the mage.

"Yeosang?" the stranger says. "It's been so long!"

Like old friends, the stranger leaves the safety of his home and approaches Yeosang, giving you the opportunity to recollect yourself. But instead you continue to study him. From his side profile, you see he's got quite a big nose, high, slender cheekbones and the most heart-warming smile you've ever seen in your entire life. You can't see much else except the oddly pointed tip of his ear peeking out through his hair.

"This is Iris," Yeosang points the stranger towards you, and luckily you manage to pull yourself together enough to wave politely and utter a meek 'hello'.

He's dressed in a white shirt, quite similar to Yeosang's (do they all go to the same tailor?) and black, leather trousers. A few buttons on his shirt are undone, his collarbones exposed and glittering in the sun, and that's almost the final straw for your poor heart.

The astrologer extends a palm towards you, and grins widely, clearly having forgotten about your instantaneous, smitten demeanour. You notice a prominent freckle on one of his cheeks, and you can hear the sound of your heart shattering into a million pieces.

"Wooyoung," he shakes your palm firmly and you swear you feel lightening shooting through your entire arm when your hands connect. "Jung Wooyoung."

"Nice to meet you, Wooyoung." you smile shyly.

"Likewise, Iris" he's still grinning down at you, but you avert your eyes nervously and you miss the crimson that seeps into his cheeks.

"Anyway..." Yeosang rudely snaps you out of your daze, shooting you a confused look that you pretend not to notice. "We came to ask for your help, Wooyoung."

Wooyoung nods, motioning for the two of you to follow him into his house hurriedly. The main section of the building is very typical, stone brick walls and a cobblestone floor with some type of furred rug thrown over it. There's a lit hearth to your left, a large, wooden table and accompanying chairs, as well as a small designated area for cooking. The only thing remotely out of place is the bottom of a endless, spiralling staircase off to the right, which you assume led to the top of the tower.

You and Yeosang sit down at the table, watching Wooyoung bolt the door numerous times. From the handle all the way down to his feet, there's latches, locks and bolts littered down the door.

"Scared of a break-in?" you crack a joke, realising very quickly there's an element of truth to your poor attempt at humour.

"Something like that." Wooyoung nods grimly, and Yeosang glares at you, kicking you under the table as a warning to keep your mouth shut. After all, you still need to convince Wooyoung to help you, and you're definitely not helping.

Wooyoung turns to face you and Yeosang once he's finished locking the door. He smiles a little, resting his hands on his hips.

"What can I help you with?" he questions, directing his attention to Yeosang.

"We've run into a little... predicament," Yeosang explains through gritted teeth, side-eyeing you to hammer home the fact this entire thing is your fault. Wooyoung follows Yeosang's death stare and stifles a laugh at the way you flush bright red, reclining further into the stiff back of the wooden chair. "Somebody agreed to help King Hongjoong with matters we know little about."

"And what matters would those be?"

"Divination matters."

You expect Wooyoung to smirk, to nod straight away and agree to help you and an old friend. But instead, his face drops a mile, crossing his arms and a deep frown that doesn't suit him etches into his features.

"I'm sorry, 'Sang. I can't help you. It's too dan-"

"I know it's dangerous for you," Yeosang interrupts the astrologer, standing up from his seat at the table. "But the king'll protect you if you're on his side, you don't need to worry about that."

Wooyoungs's gaze narrows, and his nostrils flare outwards in anger.

"The king would kill me in a heartbeat, mage." Wooyoung spits harshly, his violet eyes laced with poison. "They'd sell my blood and display my ears like some kind of freak attraction fror wanderers all over the galaxy to come and gawk at, so no, I don't quite think you do know it's dangerous."

A moments silence passes between the mage and the astrologer and you can only sit, bewildered. You have no idea what happened to Wooyoung in the past, but it must be equally as dangerous for Yeosang too, especially as a mage?

"They're still after you, aren't they?" Yeosang asks quietly, flicking his gaze up to Wooyoung long enough to watch him nod solemnly.

"I've only been home for about a week," the astrologer whispers. "I was planning on leaving again tomorrow night, they keep managing to track me and I don't know how."

You sit on the chair, looking back and forth between the men and you're not sure what you're supposed to do. It's clear they're both thinking quietly to themselves, and your curiosity outweighs your reason, so you go for it.

"Who's tracking you?" you ask shamelessly. "And why? Are you a mage too, Wooyoung?"

Wooyoung keeps his lips sealed, looking at Yeosang nervously. They have a silent conversation, Yeosang's icy blue eyes boring into Wooyoung deep lavender ones until they finally reach a mutual conclusion.

He tucks his raven black locks behind his ears, drawing your attention to the unusually pointed tips. With the hair out of the way, you can see the glittering jewellery decorating his entire outer ear, all the way from the lobes up the shell. You also notice a scar, already healed but you can tell it was once a painful, angry red. The scar starts where the bottom of the lobe attaches to the face, and runs up to the forward helix. The longer you look, the quicker you realise just why life is so dangerous for the astrologer.

"You're an elf, aren't you?" you breathe before Wooyoung can begin to explain.

You stand up, reaching out to gently glide your fingers across the scar, and you feel for him, you really do. You don't even know him and yet it's like every emotion he's ever felt in his entire life hits you in all one go.

He inhales sharply, moving back instintively and letting his fair fall back over his face like a curtain for him to hide behind.

"Yes," he confirms. "I'm Elven."

"The people that are tracking you," you ask hesitantly, after all, you've only just met the guy. "Did they give you that scar?"

There's a flash of bitterness in Wooyoung's eyes, a momentary lapse of rage and pent up, unresolved hurt and you regret asking.

"Yes." he repeats. "They would've done a lot worse to me. I was one of the lucky ones." His piercing gaze is locked onto Yeosang, and the mage wears an unreadable expression.

"We need your help, Wooyoung." Yeosang says suddenly. "You can bargain with Hongjoong for your safety, and we'll see to it that you're safe."

"I don't thin-"

"Please," you butt in the conversation. "If you play your cards right, you could get so much more from the King than you think. You can get eternal safety and protection from him just by offering him the tiniest piece of information that he needs."

The elf considers your words for a few seconds, scowling as he ponders every possible way you might be planning to trick him. His eyes flick between you and the mage as he thinks carefully. He knew Yeosang well enough to tell that his intentions were true and pure, but you complicated things slightly; he didn't know you at all. He had no idea where you came from, how you even met Yeosang, whether you could be trusted or not. Hell, he didn't even know if you were human. You intrigued him. There was something off about you, but he couldn't quite figure it out. Yet on the other hand, he yearned for safety, wanted nothing more than to be surrounded by people who cared about him and offered him protection. He was tired of running for his life and dealing cards with danger at every turn.

"Before I agree, what exactly do you require from me?"

-----

Yeosang had explained the entire situation to Wooyoung in minute detail, even including the day he found you lifeless on the beach, much to your embarrassment. He informed the elven astrologer about the prophecy and how no other in his field had managed to prove useful thus far.

"Then they're clearly not very good astrologers." Wooyoung sniffs, lifting his nose into the air proudly.

He had taken you both up the spiralled staircase to the top of the tower, where the majority of his work took place. The room was circular and dimly lit, but in a comfortable way. There was a huge, round window in the back wall with a telescope positioned in front of it, the scope itself aimed straight up into the clouds. Wooyoung's bed was pressed against the opposing wall, the blankets a mess and strewn half upon the floor. Papers were stuck to the wall and littered across every surface in the room, and stacks of books covered almost every inch of the stone floor.

Were all elves this messy?

"I wasn't expecting company..." Wooyoung motioned to the clutter with an embarrassed smile, trying his best to shove a wad of papers into his desk drawer.

"So what does an astrologer actually do?" you ask, studying the various drawings of planets and diagrams plastered all over his walls.

Wooyoung paces over to you and plucks one of them into his hands, turning it upside down and showing it to you.

"I study the stars and the planets, and relate their positions and relativity to how they affect the events that happen to us, in our world." he explains, and his violet eyes begin to glow with enthusiasm. "This one for example, you see that miniscule dot?"

He points to a tiny circle he'd drawn on the paper, and you nod.

"That's one of our moons, and because it is positioned exactly there, at an incredibly specific time, it caused a torrential storm down here on our planet."

"That's bullshit," you scoff in disbelief. "There's no way that something up in the sky can do something like that here."

"Is that so? Then maybe you'd like to explain why this diagram is dated the exact same day you washed up outside Yeosang's home? Just after a brutal storm, no less?" Wooyoung raises his eyebrows at you, challenging your logic and almost begging you to try and argue with him.

"It's merely a coincidence." you insist, crossing your arms and turning away from his smug smirk.

"Is she always this annoying?" He points his question to the mage who sighs at your bickering.

"I've told you Iris," Yeosang purposefully avoids the question and instead decides to lecture you. "There's no such thing as coincedences, everything is determined by fate, especially when the stars and planets are involved."

You roll your eyes at him and decide to ignore the lesson.

"So will you help us or not?" you turn back to Wooyoung, who's evidently having an internal battle with himself.

He wants to help, he really does. Honestly, he'd like the company and it would give his work more purpose than it does when he's constantly on the run. Plus, he could try and bargain for protection from Hongjoong in return for his work.

The thought of even stepping through the Ateez kingdom walls makes his stomach churn.

"What about the witch hunters?" he asks quietly.

"You're not a witch, they won't care, will they?" you tilt your head slightly in confusion.

"They'll take anyone who isn't human or has even a single ounce of magic blood in them." Yeosang explains. "Especially elves."

"I'll take us directly into the castle, straight to Hongjoong. The bastards aren't allowed into the castle grounds unless they're requested, so we'll be okay." The mage reassures Wooyoung, who's standing there still looking unconvinced.

He looks at Yeosang, and then to you and the pleading expressions you're both wearing. He doesn't know what life'll be like for him once he was properly avoiding the people chasing him. He could be dead in a matter of days, truthfully.

"I'll need a few things before I get started." he sighs.

"You'll help us?" You grin, almost throwing your arms around him in a hug.

"Yes," he nods. "But I'm doing it for me, and to ensure my own protection. Not for you, understand?"

Yeosang nods. How could he have expected less from the reserved astrologer? It's a a miracle you even managed to convince him to help. But like he said, he was only doing it for the safety Hongjoong would have to give him for his work. Yeosang supposed he would probably do the same if he was in Wooyoung's shoes.

"I'll have to spend the next few days gathering things I need," Wooyoung says. "You're welcome to stay here, I have a guest room downstairs. Besides, there's information I'll need from you regarding the nature of the prophecy."

You let Wooyoung and Yeosang discuss the situation, pouring over the notes on the table, while you sit and watch the sunset through the giant window. Yeosang had been reluctant to show you or even tell you very much about the prophecy, claiming to protect you from such dangerous things. Which you thought was ridiculous, but you didn't want to argue with him, so you let it go.

Hopefully now with Wooyoung by your side, you'll be able to decipher the prophecy quickly, fix the whole mess you created and be on your way, back at Yeosang's shack complaining about how difficult alchemy is.

Hopefully.

Proud of his skilled craftsmanship, he surveys his work with a smile; the second cog is complete, as is the third. There are more cogs yet to come, but the machine is coming together exactly as intended. He refers back to the blueprints, content that the process is progressing smoothly. Of course, something or some One could throw a spanner in the works at any moment. But he's prepared. After all, One must be ready for anything, and everything all at once, whether it be planned or not.

Chapter Eleven

#ateez #ateez au #medieval!ateez #god i'm so whipped for elven wooyoung #you have no idea #hongjoong #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #yunho #jongho #seonghwa

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purplesurveys · 3 years

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1072

survey by ccandacelove

Do you have sensitive skin? It actually kind of is. I bruise quite easily and my legs often end up itching badly if they’re exposed outside for too long, like it gets all warm and tingly; I have to keep slapping them to feel relief because scratching never helped.

Do you wear necklaces or earrings more? I don’t wear a lot of jewelry anymore, but if I had to start a collection of either of these I’d pick earrings.

Rings or bracelets? Bracelets. Never was crazy over rings.

Are you attracted to several guys at the moment? For the most part I don’t bat for that team, so nah.

Are you jealous of your best friend? Sometimes I will get just the teeniest bit of envy that Angela and Andi are both in committed, fulfilling relationships with healthy dynamics I never got to have with my own past relationship. But it happens just for a second and I’m always simply happy for them. I can’t envy them for being happy.

What year is it? It is 2021.

Are you egotistical? No.

Spring or autumn? I remember experiencing spring in Korea and that was sooo incredibly pleasant. But it wouldn’t be fair to pick it because I’ve never known what fall is like haha, so I guess neither.

Pasta or tacos? Right now, tacos. I like pasta too, but my parents make it all the time and I’m having leftover spaghetti from Yellow Cab literally right now, lol.

Water or soda? Water.

Irish accent or Aussie accent? Irish for me. I find the Australian accent hard to understand at times.

Do you consider yourself to be a bit gangster? Not for a second.

How many toilets are in your house? Two.

Do you have an older sister? Nope, I am the eldest sister in this home.

Do you have any ghetto friends? Idk, I wouldn’t call any of them that though?

Favorite song by Owl City? Vanilla Twilight has always been able to make me feel warm and peaceful.

What color is your mum's car? Both of our cars are white.

Do you live in an apartment? Nope, never have.

Is your attitude contagious? I wouldn’t say so. When it comes to setting the mood and things like that, I prefer that other people take the lead.

Cats are usually cuter than dogs right? Erm, I like dogs more but it doesn’t mean I don’t find cats cute. They are; I just wouldn’t seek them out.

Do you have a wallet? Yes. It was given by Gab, so I should probably buy a new one by now.

When is the last time you went to church? Physically, last March. But we watched a Christmas Eve mass livestream.

Where were you yesterday at 3pm? I was in my room working, but it was a slow day so I might have been looking for surveys to take then as well.

Is your favorite color green? It’s one of my least favorite colors.

Do you think black people are usually annoying? What an incredibly insensitive question.

Do you own purple socks? No.

Do you truly understand the (LDS) mormon religion? I am not too familiar with it since it’s not a common denomination here.

Do you think it's bullshit? I don’t have an opinion.

Where do you keep your kitty litter box? I don’t have my own, but a few months after Arlee passed away my sister gave away the litter box to her friend who got a kitten.

Are you part Scandinavian? Not a drop.

Did your aunt ever take you to the park back in the day? I don’t think any of my aunts took me out all by themselves when I was younger, actually. My mom was always around with an aunt/uncle to supervise.

Is your hair in a ponytail atm? Yes indeed. Low side ponytail.

Are you rude to little children? If they are being disrespectful then yes, I throw it back at them. I’m going to go ahead and say it, my youngest cousin (who also doubles as my godson) is poorly-raised and is ridiculously spoiled, whiny, and just a headache to be with for more than two minutes. During his birthday party last month he complained about guests who did not bring him gifts; and last week he was demanding my eldest cousin to get him a box of doughnuts. I’ve tried to be nice because he is my godson, but I’ve never met a kid so entitled; so both times I was unable to bite my tongue and told him to get his own gifts and to get his own doughnuts. Turns out I’m not ready to have kids just yet, lmfao.

Do you like Ethiopian food? I’ve not had a taste, but I’m very much interested.

Is your current crush younger than you? I don’t have a crush.

Are you a lighter complexion than your father? No. He has the fairest skin in the family.

Do you know any white people who desperately want to be Black or Hispanic? Sure. On a more relatable note, I’ve also seen white people try to be Asian.

Do you like apricots? No.

Do you go to the beach every summer? Well, we used to. I don’t know when we can go back.

Ranch or barbeque sunflower seeds? I’ve never had sunflower seeds, but I generally like barbecue flavor more. I’ve seldom had any ranch or ranch-flavored stuff; it’s not commonplace here.

Do you know the first 5 books of the bible in order? I know what the collective term is (Pentateuch), but right now only Genesis, Exodus, and Numbers come to mind. It’s been ages since I last opened a Bible.

Are you eager to attend anything tomorrow? No events tomorrow, but I’m planning to buy my very belated Christmas gift for Andi so it’s very likely that I’ll find myself in a mall again tomorrow.

Have you ever bullshitted a whole test or exam? For sure. I mostly did this with my advanced math exams in high school, when I didn’t have it in me to care anymore.

Are banana chips delicious? I can see the appeal, but my dislike of fruits has always come first so I never enjoyed it much.

Do you have a pet fish? Not in over a decade.

Are you happy with your eye color? I don’t really have a choice; all Asians on this side of the continent have dark brown eyes lol.

Do you have more energy at night or mornings? Night, usually.

Can you meow like a kitten? I guess? Sometimes I’ll trick Cooper and let out a meow, and he barks out the window every time hahaha.

Is your mum beautiful? Sure, she’s pretty and looks young for her age.

Shrimp tacos or beef? Beef. I’ve never had shrimp tacos.

Soft shell or hard shell? Crab? Either works fine. I’ve had both and they taste the same lol, it’s just more work with hard shell.

Do you live on the East coast? I do not live on either coast, if we’re talking of the US. We don’t base our geography based on coasts and for the most part, it’s either you live in Manila or you’re from the province haha.

Do you like kinky sex? Not really.

What country were you born in? Philippines.

Solid soap bar or liquid body wash? Body wash.

Do you believe being gay is a choice or a "disorder"? It’s someone’s identity.

Crest or Colgate? Colgate.

#survey #surveys

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savannahsdrabbles · 4 years

Text

Ocean Song - Part Two

rating: PG summary: Marine biology student April O’Neil makes a startling discovery.

notes: An AU originally based off of the 2012 TMNT universe, but can be compatible with most versions of the characters. <3 2.8k words. A03 link can be found here. Also special thanks to @cloakedrabbit and @starfiretheninja for beta-reading!

While he considered himself fairly levelheaded, there were a lot of things that ticked Casey Jones off: The referee calling foul play when an opponent obviously deserved to be body slammed, the cafeteria workers skimping on tater tots (in no universe was four enough), and people being jerks to those who couldn’t defend themselves.

The worst feeling of all, however, was when people intentionally kept secrets from him.

From the moment April O’Neil had walked into homeroom that Monday, he could tell that she had something heavy weighing on her mind. The redhead had avoided his attention-seeking gestures and whispers throughout class, seemingly intent on doodling in her notebook and not paying the slightest amount of attention to the lecture. She rested her chin in her palm, arm forming a barrier that blocked her page from anyone who walked past. Even when Casey flicked a pencil onto her desk, her only response was to absentmindedly return the utensil and continue scribbling.

By the time lunch rolled around, Casey was nearly shaking with curiosity and frustration over the unknown. With one hand firmly gripping his sack lunch, the eighteen-year-old searched the sea of dark hair on the patio and in the cafeteria, and then finally stuck his head into the library – a first for him. Sure enough, April was tucked away at a table in the far corner of the reference section with her nose to a computer monitor and the same expression of deep thought on her face.

“Alright, Red. Spill.” April jolted when he dragged over a chair with a deafening screech and then flopped into it. Turning his lunch bag over on the table and scattering its contents, Casey shoved an apple towards the hand she was clutching the mouse with and then picked out a peanut butter granola bar to munch on. “I can tell you’re freaking out about something. Is it homework related, or what?”

“It’s nothing,” she muttered, quickly attempting to minimize the tabs she had open on the screen – though not before Casey caught a glance of the website.

“Mysteries of the Deep: Unexplained Open Ocean Phenomena,” Casey snorted, sending a spray of granola crumbs flying, and leaned over to elbow the girl playfully. “What, are you trying to find the loch ness monster or something? Cause I’m pretty sure that’s in Canada.”

To his surprise, April let out a hiss of pain and grabbed her ribs right where Casey had poked her. The smirk on his face instantly vanished, and Casey raised his hands in surrender. “Whoa – I didn’t mean to hit so hard – my bad! Are you okay?”

April’s face tightened for a moment as if she were going to argue, her brows arching into the sassy look that Casey was used to seeing whenever he whined about how useless math was, but then she heaved a sigh and dropped her hand from her side. The girl motioned for Casey to quiet down, and then stood up quickly to peer over the row of computers around them. Once she seemed satisfied that no one was nearby, the redhead relented. “I got attacked when I was diving last night.”

“Wait – what?!” Casey nearly inhaled his granola bar and had to pause for a moment to cough violently. “By what? A fish? Or one of the other divers?”

“Shhh!” the librarian hissed from across the room.

“Don’t freak out – I’m fine.” April waved a hand dismissively, and then launched into a whispered explanation of what had happened. Casey listened with a furrowed brow, constantly interjecting with questions and April constantly hissing at him to quiet down and listen so that they would not be overheard. “He’s at Hamato Labs right now – probably still on constant sedation watch until they decide what to do with him. Dad wanted me to just go back to school today like nothing had happened, but –”

“You keep calling it a ‘him’. Did you get a look at –”

“Ew – no, Casey! Gross!” April let out a muffled shriek of indignation and punched the boy in the shoulder, though her quivering lips betrayed the hint of a smirk that Casey instantly decided was worth the shoulder pain. “I could just TELL that it was a ‘he’. He gave off a ‘guy’ vibe, I don’t know. And maybe the other one, too – though I didn’t get as good of a look at him.”

Casey seemed to calm down at this, as he leaned back in his chair with a grin and kicked his legs up onto the table – which April quickly shoved off with a jerk of her head towards the librarian’s desk. “Alright, so what’s going to happen to ‘him’ now? Or wait – do you get to name him as a new species or something? Like the ‘genus turtle-us, April-us’, or whatever?”

April shrugged, her fingers tapping unconsciously on the notebook that Casey finally realized was in her lap. The spiral bound pages bore dozens of doodles from throughout the day, all bearing features of turtles with cartoonish expressions. Several words had been written and crossed out in the margins, which Casey read aloud.

“Raph-ale? Donatello?”

The girl snapped her notebook shut with a ‘PAP!’ seeming to just notice that he had been looking at it. “Art history homework – another college course. Anyway, I should probably get back to class now. Thanks for letting me ramble – it’s just a really weird situation and I’m actually kind of glad to talk about it with someone that isn’t another scientist.”

“Well, I am definitely not a scientist, so no problem,” Casey flashed a thumbs up as April began to gather her belongings. “So, when do I get to see him?”

April froze, her hands hovering over her backpack. “Excuse me?”

The boy lifted his head to double check that they were alone, and then leaned closer to April. “You tell me all about some bizarre-o turtle man that might end up being on National Geographic or something, and then you won’t let me see it? That’s pretty low, dude.”

“It’s not that I’m against you seeing him – it’s just that I’m more than likely not even supposed to be mentioning the fact of his existence to anyone outside of the research team. Any number of hippie organizations or other laboratories would spring at the chance to claim him. Besides – if we determine that whatever made him like this is the source of an imminent biological or ecological threat, the lab is going to want to keep it out of the public eye until they’ve discovered a solution.”

“C’mon!” Casey slung an arm over April’s shoulder to keep her from standing up and leaving the table. “I won’t tell anyone! I promise – I just want to get a quick peek! It’s not every day that a kaiju saves your girlfriend – ”

“I am in no way, shape or form your girlfriend, and if you ever say that again I will punch you in the throat.”

“- from a squid! Come on – please?” Casey clasped his hands in a praying position and stuck out his bottom lip. “Please please please please please – I won’t stop until you say yes – please?”

April observed him for a moment with an expression of disgust, and then let out a deep sigh, earning a whoop of approval and a loud ‘Shhhhh!’ from the direction of the librarian’s desk. “Fine. I’m heading back to the lab after school anyway. You drive, and I’ll get my dad to sign off on letting you in with me.”

“Alright, all aboard the Jonesmobile, woo woo – ow! Why did you hit me?!”

***

The rest of the day went off without a hitch – though April would be the first to admit that she was less than focused during class. All she could think about was her interaction with the turtle, and the bubbling feeling in her stomach that occurred when she considered the fact that she would get to see him again that afternoon. Casey showed signs of distraction as well – though that was fairly normal for him. April made a mental note to ensure that he was getting his homework done and turned in.

When the last bell finally rang, the two teenagers hurried out to Casey’s old Jeep and gunned it to Hamato Laboratories. A quick knock on Dr. O’Neil’s door with no response told them that he was tied up on the phone, so the two decided to head towards the labs anyway.

“I don’t think they’ll let you into the actual exam room without my dad present, but you’ll probably be able to at least look through the glass,” April explained as the two rode the elevator down to the lower floors. Several marine biologists and lab technicians passed them on their way down, each stopping to ensure that April was doing well after the incident the day before.

“Didn’t you say he’d probably be unconscious or sedated or whatever?” Casey asked. He looked thoroughly out of place in the sleek laboratory building, all skinny jeans and beat up hoodie in contrast to the white lab coats and slacks worn by almost everyone they passed. Even April had grabbed her monogramed coat from the locker area before boarding the elevator and had thrown her hair up into a bun. Despite this, the eighteen-year-old still carried himself with an air of utter ease and confidence that April couldn’t help but respect. “Is that because he hurt you?”

April hesitated before answering. “Not specifically? It’s typically a standard procedure to sedate larger animals – particularly if they’re not reacting well to the lab environment. That way if they lash out, they’re less likely to hurt themselves or anyone else. But I could tell that he wasn’t trying to hurt me yesterday – it was just an accident.” She rubbed a hand on her side and grimaced slightly as her fingertips traced the tender bruises. “Unfortunately, it wasn’t easy explaining that to my dad. He still thinks that I was freaking out and imagined a lot of what I saw and felt.”

“How can you be sure that you didn’t?”

April’s eyes snapped to Casey’s as the elevator let out a ‘ping’ to alert them that they were nearing the correct floor. “Excuse me?”

Casey shrugged. “Nothing against you, but while this thing is cool and big and stuff, isn’t it possible that you kind of hallucinated him being… human-ish? I mean – maybe it didn’t really know that it was helping you?”

“No. He knew that he was helping me.” The words she spoke swelled with utter confidence that dimmed Casey’s doubts. “I just know it. You’ll see.”

Right as the words left her mouth, the elevator doors opened into a stark white hallway offset by the dark cement floor beneath it. Pipes and power lines ran the length of the ceiling in either direction, the whirring that they produced being the only sound in the otherwise quiet hallway. As the duo stepped out of the elevator, the motion activated lights immediately kicked on and flooded the halls with a dim light. A dozen heavy doors lined the walls, each accompanied by a keycard lock and a glass window to allow observation from outside. At the very end of the hallway, a large set of double doors beneath a glowing ‘Exit’ sign signaled the entrance to the garage through which creatures were delivered.

“Welp. I’m pretty sure we are going to get murdered in this hallway.”

April snorted and grabbed for Casey’s wrist, dragging him down the hallway towards Exam Room D. “C’mon, don’t be a baby.”

“I’m not. This… just looks like a hallway that someone in Saw would get murdered in.”

“Wuss.”

***

Despite her words of reassurance, April couldn’t help but feel on edge as well. She had grown up visiting labs with her dad and following him around as he worked. The smells of antiseptic and metallic surfaces were woven through her earliest memories, combined with days spent happily watching fish moving about in their tanks as her father helped to rehabilitate everything from enormous seals to tiny starfish. Such laboratories were what inspired her love of science and biology, and had always served as a safe place in her memories.

But even as she swiped her keycard and pushed open the door to the correct exam room, her recently donned lab coat rustling quietly around her, she could tell that something was very… off.

Casey stuck close behind, the warning of staying by the observation window clearly forgotten – or ignored - as the two walked hesitantly into the dimly lit room. April noticed that the main lights had been turned off – not unusual for when researchers dealt with deep sea or photosensitive creatures – and the only light being offered was from the panels that hung around the examination tables and over the door that led out to the loading dock. Filtered water gurgled in several tanks around the room, adding to the illusion that the room might have been located underwater or someplace hidden away from the rest of the world.

“Dude,” Casey murmured quietly. “I didn’t expect this place to be so creepy.”

“It’s not, usually,” April felt a palm along the white walls until she found the light dimmer and adjusted it just enough that they had a bit more light.

“Holy crap. You weren’t joking about how big he is.”

A large glass cage, usually reserved for seals, stood in one corner of the room. The bottom of the cage had been lined with a layer of sand, which had apparently been kicked up by the creature quietly whining and shifting inside of it.

The turtle within was currently laying on its side with his armored back to the two teenagers and one leg stretched at an uncomfortable angle as it seemed to be attempting to pull itself completely into the far corner of the container. A closer look told them that the turtle had been shackled, a large iron chain around its left leg prohibiting him from crawling into his shell.

“Yeah – he actually seems smaller than I remembered…” The red head hesitantly took a step forward, eyes watching as the turtle took a shuddering breath and twitched. He didn’t seem to have noticed their arrival yet – proving the recent sedative to be quite effective. “When he was moving around in the water I could have sworn he was taller than I was, but now he doesn’t even look five feet tall!”

“Tall or not, he looks kinda dead,” Casey suddenly strode forward to stand beside April and pressed one hand to the glass, tapping lightly with his knuckle. “Wake up, dude!”

“I doubt that will do anything, Casey – he’s really drugged up at the mo-”

As if on cue, the turtle jerked in its sleep and flailed momentarily in the sand, eliciting quiet shrieks of surprise from the two observers. They both leapt backwards as the turtle rolled itself onto all fours, limbs still trembling from sleep and head shaking this way and that as the creature attempted to orient itself. There was a moment of silence as he seemed to suddenly remember his predicament, and then the turtle caught sight of April and Casey.

Eyes shrinking to pinpricks, the turtle let out a squawk of terror and scrabbled backwards on his hands and rear end until the chain grew taut and he couldn’t retreat any further, chest heaving and eyes flicking in every direction as he searched for a way out. With a jolt, April watched as the turtle threw his body sideways against the glass and clawed at the walls. The laboratory room echoed with sounds of distress as the creature began to click and squawk frantically.

“Uh – do we need to go get somebody?” the dark-haired boy pressed both hands to his ears and furrowed his brow. “’Cause he doesn’t seem to be very happy about being in there!”

“We should probably get one of the lab technicians to administer another dose of sedative,” April nodded her head back towards the door, though her eyes remained on the turtle. The creature was still clicking loudly as it balled its hands into fists and beat them against the glass. “The walls should be strong enough to hold him, but he might hurt himself if he keeps freaking out!”

“Sounds good to me!”

The girl motioned for Casey to follow her, backing slowly away from the turtle and reaching out for the door handle. As they backed away, the noise seemed to falter and then suddenly -

“Help!”

April froze, her hand inches from the doorknob, and then turned to meet Casey’s round brown orbs. “Did you-?”

“Help!”

The two stared at each other silently for a heartbeat, and then slowly turned to face the panting terrapin. The creature’s amber eyes had tracked them across the room, and now locked onto April’s own eyes with an intensity she had never seen before.

“Crap,” Casey murmured under his breath. “What did you - ?”

“Tasukete kudasai!” The turtle pressed his trembling palms against the glass, eyes round and searching as they moved to meet Casey’s. “Help! Out!”

Next Chapter

#tmnt #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #tmnt 2018 #tmnt 2012 #savannah drabbles #nickelodeon #sea turtles au

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cycat4077 · 4 years

Text

Teacher, Teacher, Can You Teach Me?

Summary: You help Sonny study for the bar. That's it. That's the fic. (Takes place between 17x15 “Collateral Damages” and 17x16 “Star-Struck Victims”) Pairing: Sonny x Reader (who is a teacher) Warnings: nope Words: 1046 AO3 here

Part 5 of the Changes verse (though it’s pretty stand alone if a series isn’t your thing).

(Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4)

"I don't wanna!" pouts Sonny as he lays sprawled out across his couch. His long legs drape over the edge and a hand lies over-top his full belly. The two of you just finished wolfing down a "luxurious" take-out lunch for two.

"But you gotta!" you scold from the opposite end of the sofa. "The exam starts tomorrow morning bright and early and this is your last chance to study beforehand."

His response is a mere grumbly whine paired with a face contorted in protest.

"Come on," you coax tapping Sonny's leg, encouraging him to get up.

"No," he closes his eyes and turns his head away like a toddler.

"Dominick Carisi. You need to study! You haven't trudged through night school while working doubles to not give it one last push now." You fold your arms together and stare him down.

Sonny shakes his head defiantly.

"Okay, then. I'll leave." You shift as if you're about to get up.

"Yourra meany!" he groans.

"Bye," you state, continuing to fake standing up. You hope it calls his bluff.

Sonny shoots forward. "Noo! Don't leave me! I'll study! I'll study!"

You smile victoriously. "C'mon then, my future-lawyer boyfriend. I'll help you." Waving him over coaxes Sonny to follow as you cross the apartment towards his kitchen.

Like any student without a designated desk space, the dining room table is littered with law books and papers. Sonny rolls up the sleeves of his grey henley and you both sit down to delve in. "Can ya quiz me on somma this stuff?" he asks, handing you his handwritten notes and the list of bar exam topics.

Accepting the papers, you begin with the first term highlighted. Sonny stumbles out an answer, ending it with an inflection. Clearly, he's unsure of himself.

You read out the correct response which causes Sonny to dip his head in defeat. "Hey, now," you comfort. "Don't get discouraged." Then an idea strikes you. "How about this?" You hand him back his work, resulting in a quizzical look from your boyfriend. "Here. Use your notes if you want, but go through everything you've learned using me as your student. Teach me!" you smile warmly and fold your hands on the table in front of you.

Sonny cocks his head, purses his lips and narrows his eyes in contemplation. "Alright," he says eagerly, accepting your challenge.

You listen intently and even ask questions to get Sonny to clarify what he's explaining to you. The study session goes on for hours and the two of you tick off the exam topics one by one. While your head does spin from all the legal jargon, you suck it up to keep Sonny’s momentum going. He's expressive and engaged, proudly walking you through the material and bringing together all the knowledge he's acquired from his classes.

It's late evening by the time Sonny's “lecture” is over. "Well, I'm pooped," he says reaching for a glass of water to soothe his dry throat. "You must be exhausted too, doll."

"It's all good," you tap his arm. "I hope it was useful for you."

"We'll see tomorrow," he winks. "That'll be the real moment of truth…" But Sonny isn't brimming with the confidence you're used to seeing from him.

"Sonny," you utter, "you just have to do your best. That's all anyone can expect from you and that's all you can expect from yourself." You rest a hand on his arm and rub soothingly over his exposed skin. He peers at you with nervous eyes. "And if you don't pass this time around, you take it again." Sonny nods in understanding. "This is your dream and I know you won't quit until you succeed." You then lean in and press your lips to his, hoping to convey just how much faith you have in him. He pulls you into a hug and squeezes. He knows.

That night the two of you snuggle closely under Sonny's covers. A combined total of six alarms wait to guarantee Sonny’s timely arrival.

-x-

"You gotta call me once today's sessions are over," you tell him the next morning before you both leave.

"It could end up bein’ late, though," he counters, wringing his hands nervously.

"Doesn't matter," you assure him. You lean in to give him a kiss goodbye before wishing him good luck.

That night you get a call and on the other end a tired-sounding Sonny tells you that he thinks he did okay. The day after that you get a similar call. "It's over! I'm done!" he cheers. "I'm so relieved! I think it went well, but that's upta the state now."

"I think you did just great!" you remark happily. That exuberant spirit has returned to Sonny’s voice and you couldn’t be more thrilled.

"Say, all that brain powa has made me hungry. You up for some dinner?"

"When have you known me to say no to food?" you tease.

Sonny laughs. "Good point! Y'know, I kinda skipped out on Valentine's day 'cause a work, and takeout the other day was hardly a substitute."

Though a fancy Valentine's day was by no means essential to you, a dinner out with Sonny is never something you would refuse. The two of you meet at a restaurant and the moment you see Sonny, you leap into his arms to shower him in praises. He catches you with a surprised look before nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck, holding you close. Does it make a bit of a scene? Maybe, but you couldn't care less.

"I had the best teacher," he says setting you down and giving you an affectionate nudge.

"Woah, wait a minute! Don't forget that you were the one that taught me!" you counter, cleverly.

Sonny chuckles. "Whateva, you're still the one to suggest studyin' that way and then sit there ‘n listen to me yap on. I appreciate it."

"Anytime, Sonny," you say, heart swelling proudly. "Anytime."

Two months later you would have more celebrating to do. Sonny's hard work and dedication, something you admire so deeply about him, would finally pay off. You would get to share in his excitement when he comes home to tell you that he passed the New York State bar exam.

~~~

Fun Facts about the NY State Bar Exam:

The exam is always given on the last Tuesday/Wednesday of each year. For 2016 that would have been Feb 23rd/24th.

However, according to SVU Sonny takes his exam a week before the day he talks to Barba about it. (So, Feb 16th/17th – a TV goof.)

The bar exam is a two-day affair with Day 1 being 3hrs in the morning (2 performance tests) and 3hrs in the afternoon (6 essay questions). Day 2 is divided up into the same time slots, but with 100 mcq in the morning and another 100 in the afternoon.

Morning sessions are 9:30-12:30 and afternoon sessions are 2:00-5:00.

Also according to SVU, Sonny finds out he passed the bar on April 15th 2016. Usually they are posted at the end of April or early May. But once again, Sonny is lucky and gets the results early too!

Feedback is loved (especially since I’m cheating on my own academic work by posting this...oops) and the next thing I want write about is “Sheltered Outcasts” and Sonny’s big UC gig :)

Part 6 here!

#sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #sonny x reader #law and order svu #svu fanfic #Sonnyshine of my life #my fanfic #It's crap I know. I'm writing a long boring report rn and I think it's rubbing off on me #The Changes verse

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peterthepark · 5 years

Text

crush culture - [prologue]

the double accident

pairing: steve harrington x reader (university au & modern au)

summary: He delivered newspapers, while you were one of smartest kids in school. It’s a weird combination, but the fact that he’s crushing on you is even weirder. And the weirdest? You’re falling in love with him - just a little bit.

warnings: strong language

series masterlist

You never knew who he was until his paper delivery route had changed almost a year ago, where he first stumbled upon your campus apartment during the peak of the morning. He would pedal quickly on a blue bike and would never wear a helmet in fear of ruining his hair. Sometimes, you’d see him from your balcony, or when you’d get into your car, he’d speed by and give you a polite nod before tossing the community newspaper onto the driveway.

Later in your life, you did find out that his name was Steve Harrington: the boy who delivered newspapers at five in the morning during weekdays and ten during weekends.

He was the guy who dated Ashley Cutler during his freshman year then broke up with her because he thought he was in love with Olivia Kim, but really, he wasn’t - rumor had it that he was actually in love with some sorority girl called Melissa.

He was the guy who would pass by you between seminars, accidentally making eye contact with you when you’d stride past him.

He was the guy who rode his blue bike to campus on Monday through Friday, and his red one on Saturday and Sunday.

But yeah, you didn’t know him at all.

You were backing out of the driveway, busy adjusting the rear-view mirror before you heard a loud thud and a string of questionable curses. Speak of the fucking devil. You open your door, poking your head out. Steve sat on the pavement, hissing as he examined the bloody mess of his scraped knee.

You are literally a dumbass. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Holy shit. Oh, my god, I am so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention-“ You ramble as you approach him, crouching down to his level with worry.

Steve glances at you, then gives you a second look when he recognizes your face. “No, no. You’re - you’re fine.” He gulps, cheeks tinted with a rosy hue. “I wasn’t looking, um, either. Yeah, sorry, I wasn’t looking either.” His tongue darts out to wet his lips. You help him to his feet, simultaneously blushing with him as he dusts off his dirty hands on his clothing. “Y/N, right?”

You nod with a smile. “I have a first aid kit in my car. Would you mind if I...?” You start, pointing to the trunk of your van. He shakes his head, urging you to go ahead. Standing patiently with his arms crossed against his chest, his eyes follow your panicked movements.

You sigh shakily as Steve takes the red box from you, thanking you before he picks up his fallen bike. You swipe your thumb over your bottom lip, hesitantly speaking, “Look, I’m really sorry. Uh, surely it’s appropriate for me to give you a ride? To school? If that’s where you’re headed.”

Steve flexes his hands against the handles of his bike, glancing around as if he didn’t want to be seen with you. He shrugs with a shy and hesitant grin, “Sure. Yeah, thanks.” He drives his bike over and helps you load it into the trunk of your van, his hair tickling your cheek as he reaches over your shoulder. He apologizes, before he makes a beeline towards the passenger seat.

Bouncing his leg, Steve gazes out the window. The car ride has been awkwardly silent for the past ten minutes - well, you wouldn’t be able to hide the awkwardness in the first place considering the fact you almost ran him over.

“So, what’s your major?” You pipe up with a squeaky voice, keeping a straight face towards the road in fear of eye contact. You clear your throat, shocked at how many octaves your voice had jumped.

What’s your major? Really? Such a stupid, boring question.

Steve chuckles, glad that you‘ve broken the tension in the car. “Criminal justice. Woo! So fun.” He pumps his fist in the air enthusiastically, smiling shyly when he looks over to you.

“Oh, that’s so cool!” You chuckle genuinely, “So are you trying to be like a police officer or something?”

“Yeah, something like that. Maybe a crime scene investigator, too.”

You nod understandably, and Steve continues to discuss his major as well as his plans after university. Then, he realizes that he’s been talking about himself the whole time, and instantly shifts the topic of the conversation to you. “What about you? What are you doing?”

You tell him about your major and all about your experiences on campus, and he listens, occasionally adding a witty remark to your delight.

“I haven’t had a break since the semester started, but you know, it’s almost Christmas so that means vacation, which then means no exams and no assignments. Thankfully.” You laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You take a turn into the parking lot, and part of you feels disappointed that the car ride has ended so quickly.

You open the trunk, moving to get his bike but Steve insists politely that he can do it. And before you know it, the bike slips out of his grasp and he accidentally elbows you in the face.

Steve cries out as your body plummets to the parking lot floor. You clutch your eyebrow, pulling your hand away from your face to be met with a small drop of blood.

“I am such an idiot. Y/N. God, I’m sorry. I should have been more careful and - and I didn’t want you to get the bike because I was trying to be a gentleman and I mean,” He chuckles, catching his breath, “Look where that got me.”

You manage to let out a breathy giggle. “Well, now we’re even.” Your eyes take a glimpse at his patched-up knee. “Happen to spare me a band-aid?”

He nods rapidly, before he takes your small hands into his own, lifting you up effortlessly from the ground. You nearly collide with his chest, but you’re able to grab onto his shoulders, steadying your weight.

If you had known this would be the start of your day, you probably would’ve stayed home.

Steve leans patiently against the side of your van as you clean up the wound on your face, catching his eye in the sun-visor mirror from time to time.

The two of you can’t help but snicker at each other when you finally get out of your car, looking absolutely ridiculous with a rainbow band-aid that matched the pony design on Steve’s knee.

Suddenly, the moment is stolen when a cloud of nervousness re-appears over your heads. Steve shifts from one foot to the other, scratching the back of his neck as he glances away from you. You don’t know what to do with your hands, resorting to tucking them away in your sweatshirt.

“I should go.” Steve says, shutting one eye as he throws his thumb over his shoulder.

Shit, that was cute. That was kinda, really cute. Okay, now say something.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, of course. Uh, thanks!”

“Um, for what?”

You truly are a mess. Why the hell are you thanking him? Get it together.

“Just - just for the company.” Smooth, real smooth. “Sorry about your knee... again.” You gesture to his leg, biting down on your lip. He chuckles with a scoff, nodding likewise towards your face.

“Oh! Wow, completely rude of me.” He shifts his bike to his left hand, holding out his right. “I’m Steve Harrington, by the way. I never introduced myself.”

“I know who you are.” You grin, shaking hands. Your eyes widen at how suddenly creepy that had sounded, and you stumble over your words in an effort to save yourself from embarrassment. “Jesus, that sounded really weird. Yeah, I-I know your name. In like a total, not stalker-ish way.” This is so bad. “I share an apartment with Robin and Kate, which you do bike by a lot, so...”

He must be really, really disturbed.

Steve flashes you a sweet, boyish smile, slowly retracting his hand from you after realizing that he had been holding onto it for the longest time. His palms are clammy, and he’s praying that you hadn’t felt it.

“Yeah. It was cool meeting you, finally. I pass by your apartment like you said so - so yeah, definitely, I...” He breathes out deeply, shaking his head with a scrunched up nose. “I’m gonna go now.”

Blushing visibly, Steve adjusts the drawstrings of his jacket before he takes a seat on his bike.

“I’ll see you around, Harrington.” You nibble on the inside of your cheek, taking a couple steps backwards. He waves awkwardly, then he’s off in the opposite direction, careful not to crash into any other cars.

You let out a strangled groan when he’s out of sight, bringing your hands up to your face in sheer frustration. Could you be any more awkward?

“I’m telling you, K. I’ll show you the data later. I don’t have my laptop, but trust me, it’ll make sense then.” You sigh at your friend, who seemed terribly confused with today’s lecture. You’re sitting in one of the cafés on campus, sipping away at your latte while Robin and Kate munched on a couple cookies.

“Okay, fine, later. Also what happened to your face?” She snorts, tilting her head at the not-so-subtle bandaid with teasing eyes. “Did you have that much fun with Henry last night?”

“Oh, my god. I did not screw Henry. He left right after we finished the project.” You huff, swirling your drink around. “I just... hit my head. On the trunk. Again.”

“Must’ve been painful.” Robin raises a brow at you, obviously suspicious of your reason.

“Anyways, you guys, there’s this thing next Friday. Levi is inviting us to this party at his friend’s, friends’s place. I was wondering...” She draws out the word, shimmying her shoulders. “Can you both come with? Please? It’s gonna be fun. Also, I wanna hook Y/N up with this guy I know.”

“Y/N might finally get some good dick.” Robin laughs, punching your shoulder lightly. You roll your eyes at her, flipping her off before you retreat to your phone.

Pulling up your instagram, your fingers hover over the search bar, and before you know it you’re searching for a special someone.

steveharrington98

Bingo.

But to your dismay, his account seemed to be private. You blow air from your puffed out cheeks, successfully moving the stray strand of hair from your face.

“Who is that?”

Levi comes up behind you, and he smashes his thumb onto the terrifying white button without care.

Requested.

No. No. No.

“You absolute dickhead!” You gasp at him, slapping his arm before you look back at your phone. “Fuck!” You throw your phone down onto the table, tugging on your hair as you swear under your breath.

“Is that Steve? That’s Steve, right?” Robin takes your phone, but honestly you don’t even care anymore.

Damage has been done, and all you could do at this point was wait.

“Y/N?” Kate calls out to you, snapping you out of your crazed state. “So, party? Friday? Yes?”

You whine, slipping your phone into your backpack. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Great!” She squeals, “I’ll send the address to you later. After you help me with that dumb data shit.”

Your phone buzzes loudly. With buttery fingers, you take it out again with trembling thumbs.

steveharrington98 accepted your follow request.

steveharrington98 has requested to follow you.

Cool.

So much for accidents.

514 notes · View notes

agustdomain · 4 years

Text

A Slideshow of Road Lines {2}

Synopsis: They say oil and water don’t mix. What about oil paint and engines? He’s an artist reaching toward his dream while the girl with an engine heart is too busy trying to get her hands on the wheel. Is there a way for them to hold onto each other?

Word Count: 5k words

Pairing: Chris x Reader

Genre: college!au, artist!Chris, angst

Warnings: Language, Physical Illness (mentions and depictions of it)

Author’s Note: Would any of you be interested in a character index? I’m going to do it anyways haha but I want to know if that’s something you’d like to see. You know, just in case you need a reference. It is an expansive world after all. Also, I have a playlist specifically for this universe so if that’s also something you’d like to see... Without further ado...

! IMPORTANT NOTE ! This story is taking place in TWO DIFFERENT TIMES. When you see these flowers ❁, the story is shifting from present to past. There will also be a “Then” next to the day in order to further indicate that. If you have any questions, let me know!

> Part One <

DAY 4

Her head is bobbing, her mind dipping in and out of consciousness. Any moment now and she’s going to hit rock bottom, far beyond return.

This is what Y/N deserved for putting off studying for her calculus exam until the night before. The last time she checked the clock-when she was more awake than she is now- it had read 2:03 AM. That had given her a nice seven-hour window to study for the exam in which she was massively unprepared.

Truthfully, she’s been using this exam as her go-to excuse until it was wrung dry. It had been enough to deter worried Hyunjin more than once and barely sated Yeji who’s relentless with pestering her this entire weekend. Even Minnie senses something is off, leaving a Crunch bar at her door for the past three nights.That’s one reason she preferred Chuu over all of her roommates, because she knew when to keep her distance.

The Crunch bars, however, are a nice late night snack.

Her phone buzzing made her head slide off her poised hand, almost right into her desk. Yawning loudly, she scratches at her cheek as she squints down at her phone. Swearing at the brightness, she turns it down before focusing on the only notification that’s lighting up her screen.

Honey

My spidey senses are tingling… Delivered at 3:08 AM

She waits patiently for the three dots to reveal whatever else Hyunjin’s spouting at her this late at night.

Honey

They’re telling me my favorite girl is in need of Honey time...

and Pistachio ice cream. Delivered at 3:09 AM

Even though she’s been trying to avoid him as much as possible, Y/N can’t avoid the smile trying to nudge her lips. She barely began to type a response before he shoots another text at her.

Honey

Before you heartlessly reject me, I’m waiting at the front door. Let me innnnnn

Delivered at 3:11 AM

That’s how after almost failing to creep down the creaky ass townhouse stairs and stubbing her toe on Minnie’s skateboard, she finds a gentle smile and her favorite companion waiting for her.

“Get in here,” She hisses, ignoring his outstretched arms and opting to yank him inside.

“Ouch. Don’t have to be so rough,” He whines a little too loudly.

“Uh, yeah I do. Especially when there’s a dumbass walking around late at night asking to get himself mugged. Or worse, killed.”

“Let them try. You know I could take anyone who tries to come at me,” Posting up, he swings at an invisible opponent, the grocery bag hanging on his wrist making him look ridiculous.

“Shut up before you wake up the Wicked Witch,” Y/N whispers.

His gaze trails to the stairs before shaking his head, kicking off his shoes. “We really need to get Minnie ear plugs or something. I’ve spent enough time around to know she’s louder than a boat horn.”

Y/N has to stifle her laughter. He always knows how to pull it out of her, no matter how hard things are. “Come on, loser. Watch your step. The stairs-”

“Creak. Yeah, I know. You act like I haven’t been here before. Are you going to tell me every single time?”

Not even five seconds later, she hears the stairs creak from behind her. Slowly turning back to look at him, she merely shakes her head at the grimace on his face before leading the way.

Once they close the door behind them, she gets her phone to text the roommate group chat. It’s a rule they had implemented when they first moved in together: keep each other in the loop. To maintain a level of respect, they always let each other know what was going on/who they are having over.

Right as she’s going to hit send, she hesitates. Hovering her thumb over the send button, her eyes peer at Hyunjin. She watches as he observes the wall adjacent to her desk. It’s where she had put up all of her photos when she first moved in. These days, she avoids them considering a lot has changed. She really needed to take some of those pictures down.

Feeling her eyes, he meets her gaze and nods at her in question. Erasing the text, she tosses her phone to her bed before settling at her desk. Instead of facing her notes, she spins the chair to face Hyunjin.

“Honey.”

“Yeah?” He’s still distracted, eyes drawn to the photos but mind somewhere else. What a sight. It’s been a long time since she’s seen him appear so peaceful. She doesn’t want to disrupt that. Unfortunately, she does have an exam she’s studying for and time’s dwindling down.

All she has to do is tell him she needs to focus. Apologize and tell him he needs to go. Thank him for the ice cream but she really needs to finish studying and get some rest. Reassure him that she’ll call him tomorrow.

Five minutes later, both of their backs are pressed against the wall beneath the photos, pistachio carton comfortably between them.

“You know, I used to hate this flavor.”

Y/N glances at him, unbothered at his disruption of the comfortable silence. The spoon rests in his mouth, hands comfortably in his lap. She watches as his right hand twists the metal ring on his left middle finger. Something’s on his mind.

“I think I remember something like that.”

“Yeah, it used to taste like shit. Whenever you got it, I would wonder who made such a nasty ass flavor. Of all things to make as ice cream, they chose pistachio? They must’ve died a virgin.”

“Wow,” Y/N coughs out a laugh, feeling bad for the inventor of pistachio ice cream. Digging her spoon into the carton, she asks, “What changed your mind?”

“You, of course.” Her eyes snap up to meet Hyunjin’s gaze.

“What?”

“What do you mean, what? I’m telling you the truth.”

They hold their gaze for a moment before Y/N breaks it, spooning the bite into her mouth before pointing the accusatory spoon at Hyunjin. “That’s bullshit.”

“Fine, don’t believe me. Why would I lie about something so stupid?” He tries to ignore her pointed stare before he adds, “I don’t know, I guess it could be taste buds changing the older you get and shit. But it really was your fault.”

“If I take credit for it, then I’m taking credit for changing your life for the better.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

An intimate silence falls around them, one that’s distinctly Hyunjin and Y/N. She believes their silence is one of the many reasons they work so well. They never need to fill the silence, not like she does when she’s with Yeji.

“I’m sorry.”

Y/N swallows the ice cream in her mouth. Licking her lips of the leftover residue, her gaze flickers over to him. He’s trying, that much is obvious. It hurt her to know that she’s being difficult about it all. Even to a stranger, it’d be easy to see she’s avoiding all human contact the moment she heard Chris is back. Her friends are worried about her, yet they respect that she needs time.

It hurts her to see the plain turmoil written in Hyunjin’s body. He hasn’t stopped fiddling with his ring since they sat down. He has this extremely irritating habit of licking his lips. The act itself isn’t frustrating, it was the after effects of him complaining about his dry lips and begging for her or Yeji’s chapstick.

“For what?”

He glances at her before looking forward, his smile sad. “I know him being back is tearing you up inside. And there’s nothing I can do.”

“Hey,” she reaches out and pats his thigh, “You being here is all I need. Well, you and pistachio. The pistachio a little bit more.”

“Shut up,” He laughs, shoving her hand off. Letting the moment pass, he grows serious once more. “I mean it when I say I would do anything to take away your pain. Chris may be my friend, but you’re my number one. I would take your pain and double my own in a heartbeat.”

“Aw, Honey,” reaching over, she ruffles his hair. He secretly loves it, smiling when he swats her hand away again, “Thank you.”

He gives her a short nod before looking off to the side. Never one for appraisal, he avoids the topic. Hyunjin admitted once that compliments were different when it came from Y/N, something along the lines that he knew she was genuine. The thought always makes her sad, so she shoves it aside.

Poking his cheek affectionately, she waits for him to swat her hand once more before leaning her head on his shoulder.

Any thought of Chris or her calculus exam fades away in the presence of the one person who always knows the right words to make her feel better. In that position, she falls asleep as easy as it is when she’s in her bed back home.

~~~~

Y/N doesn’t know how much time has passed. All she knows is her neck is stiff and her body is aching as someone gently shakes her arm.

“Hey. Hey, Y/N. Wake up.” Her eyes shoot open, flinching upright. Scanning her surroundings, she calms down at the sight of Hyunjin beside her. Looking just as exhausted as her, he is waiting on her to respond.

Rubbing at her neck, she sluggishly leans back on the wall, muttering, “What time is it?”

“It’s 5.”

Her eyes shoot open, gawking at him. Even in his sleepy state, he cracks a smile. “5?! Are you messing with me?”

Fumbling for her phone, she swears as she realizes it’s dead. She stumbles to her feet beelining to her desk.

“Come on, come on,” She chants as she waits for her computer screen to turn on. Sure enough, he was right. It’s just after 5 AM. “Shit!”

“What time’s your class?”

“9! I barely even studied!”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” He utters, distracted by his sleepiness.

“Um, that’s not how this works. If I don’t know the material, I’m guaranteed a failing grade.”

“Relax. It’s going to be fine.” Hyunjin can barely keep his eyes open. Y/N, on the other hand, is as awake as a cat in the middle of the night.

“I’m going to shower and then study some more before class.” She’s talking more to herself than him, because when she’s in this mode, hardly anyone can snap her out of it.

He hums, clearly not paying attention as she rummages through her dresser for clothes. Straightening out, she regards him for a moment before heaving a sigh. “You can sleep in my bed. Just don’t, I don’t know, pee in your sleep.”

“Thanks,” is all he can muster before he sprawls his body across her bed and passes out the moment his head hits the pillow.

Without a glance, she heads to her bathroom.

~~~~

By the time she’s back, it’s around 10:15. Thankfully, she only had one class. She wants to punch herself, though, because she’s running on fumes and has an essay due at midnight tonight.

Y/N isn’t expecting Hyunjin to still be knocked out in her bed, pausing in the doorway seeing his figure tucked underneath her comforter.

She hovers at the foot of the bed for a moment, watching him. He’s out cold, so she reaches out and shakes his foot to see if he’d wake up. Narrowing her eyes, she silently starts complaining. Why was he born with the ability to sleep so deeply?

Grumbling, she mutters, “At least we know who’d survive if there was an intruder,” grabbing her only other pillow and lying down in the opposite direction. Looking at him one last time, she yawns, “You’re lucky I don’t kick your ass out,” Before slipping asleep as easy as he must’ve.

~~~~

When her eyes flutter open, she senses someone’s looking at her. Holding her head up, she peers at Hyunjin through one eye before letting her head fall back into her pillow. “What time is it?”

“It’s 5.”

“What?” She screams, scrambling up. Y/N’s already up and off the bed before she realizes he’s laughing. Slowly turning her head toward him, her glare doesn’t deter him, only serves to make him laugh even harder. Lying back down, she slugs him in the leg, his giggles turning to gasps through the pain.

“You’re too easy.”

“Yeah, you would be too if you were still half asleep.” With her eyes still closed, she asks him again for the time.

“It’s 1:30. Boy, can we sleep.” Looking over her shoulder at him, she holds back the urge to laugh at his wild hair saying hello to her. “What?”

“Nothing.” As if he read her mind, he tugs and pulls at the strands, patting his hair down. He knows her mind well.

She doesn’t say anything as she lets herself wake up, and he gives her time. Eventually, they’re both lying there scrolling through their phones. At least, she thinks they are until she glances at him and sees he’s staring off into space.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” his voice is soft, barely audible. Where’s he at? “I think I’m actually going to head out. I have a late class today. I’m going to grab food and then go home and shower.”

“Oh. Okay.” She’s confused at his sudden change up but doesn’t find it suspicious. That is, until he avoids looking at her as he shrugs on his jacket. Awkwardly, she hovers near him as he gathered himself together. “You sure you’re okay?”

Finally, he looks at her. Something’s off and it’s clear as glass in his face. He smiles it off, his tone too bright as he says, “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s go.”

They walk down the stairs in silence, her silence one of questions and his, one that’s indecipherable. They pause at the bottom of the steps, grabbing the attention of Chuu who’s lounging on their living room couch.

“Hey, Chuu. Long time no see,” Hyunjin holds up a hand in saluting. She just politely smiles back.

Y/N opens the front door, suddenly very afraid Hyunjin might tell her something before he leaves. Holding the door open, she watches him closely, looking for any signs of what he’s thinking. His face is void of any clues.

She holds her breath in anticipation as he steps around her, before smiling and walking out the door. She exhales in relief, not noticing his lingering walk. Opening her mouth, she readies herself to tell him goodbye. He beats her to the punch as he whirls around.

“Jisung is throwing something this weekend.”

Y/N’s heart sinks, crossing her arms as she retreats within herself. Hyunjin’s face falls, knowing all too well what that looks like. “That’s… great.”

“Y/N…”

“I think it’ll be a lot of fun. You’ll have to tell me all about it afterward.” Her hand grips the door and moves to close it, but Hyunjin’s arm jets out to stop it. Stupid baseball pitcher.

“I want you to be there.”

“Oh yeah?” Y/N winces at her loud and fake voice, glancing at Chuu before stepping outside. Hyunjin’s eyes are pleading, his palms showing as if he’s offering her a truce. That’s the thing. It isn’t his responsibility or his place to offer that to her.

She doesn’t know if he’s playing dumb or if he thinks he’s some hero, but he isn’t miraculously going to fix the damage done. No one, not even Chris himself, can convince her otherwise.

“Tell me something, Hyunjin. Do you think I’m stupid?”

“No…”

“Then do you think I’d really show up to something I know he’ll be at?”

“Well, the party is for him.”

“Don’t be a smartass,” She shakes her head, taking a step back. “If all everyone is going to do is try and push me to make an effort, news flash. It’s too late for that. Maybe that’s what you guys should’ve been doing right before he left.”

Hyunjin opens his mouth, but she holds up her hand, silencing him.

“Have fun at the party,” Trying to hide her disappointment in him, Hyunjin’s hurt expression is the last thing she sees before closing the front door.

Staring at the door, she follows the curves and swirls in the wood, all together but never touching.

“Are you okay?” Her eyes find Chuu, her wide and innocent eyes regarding her with so much kindness, her own flood with tears.

“I don’t think I am, Chuu.”

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

Day 8, Then

To Y/N, there wasn’t a form of satisfaction quite as fulfilling as turning in an assignment. It was even more satisfying, considering her major wasn’t the easiest one out there. The way life goes, when one stress disappears, another one takes its place.

Trying to ignore the boiling pot of emotions brewing inside of her, she kept her mind as blank as it could be as she packed her duffel bag with clothes for the weekend. She used anything that flitted across her mind and snatched onto it, anything to distract her.

She hoped she did well on the statistics exam she just took yesterday. Studying wasn’t too bad, so she could bear to have a little confidence. Eating lunch with Yeji today was a relief. She thought they might’ve been on bad terms since their last conversation, but everything was normal.

Hyunjin had kind of been M.I.A, but they had been texting normally so she wasn’t too concerned.

As she was gathering her toiletries from the bathroom door, she heard keys jingling in the dorm door before it clicked open. Low voices filtered out from the hall as Chuu entered.

“Y/N?”

“In here!” She finished grabbing everything before walking out, “Aren’t you supposed to be in class-” Just as she finished her sentence, both Chuu and Hyunjin turned to watch her walk out. He took in her presence before his usual honey smile found his lips. “Hey!”

Stepping forward, he did his signature greeting: arms around her, lifting her off the floor, ending with a sweet smile. “Hey.”

“To answer your question, I got out early. Now I can get back to the beautiful Rio and the yummy Profesor. Mmmm,” Chuu said dreamily, Hyunjin’s face scrunching up in confusion while Y/N laughed.

Walking over to her bed, the sight of her duffel slammed her back down into reality. Avoiding Hyunjin’s gaze, she stuck her toiletries in her bag before zipping it up.

“Are you leaving somewhere?”

“I’m going home for the weekend.”

“Oh shit, I didn’t know,” Hyunjin’s tone changed. That’s why she didn’t want him to know, “How are you getting there?”

“Mom’s picking me up,” Stop. Block it out. Distraction, anything. Turning to Hyunjin, she quickly shifted the subject. “What’s up? You didn’t text me and tell me you were coming over.”

Hyunjin tilted his head, deciding to let her dismissiveness go for the time being. She was thankful. “I figured you were going to be pouring your energy out over some assignment. I was wrong.”

She was supposed to laugh, but she couldn’t find the energy. He noticed, but didn’t press. Instead, he gently knocked his knuckles into her chin, to tell her chin up. It eased her heart, as it always did.

“Actually, I was dropping by to tell you about a little get together we’re having this weekend. Not sure if you remember, but we mentioned our friend Chris? His birthday is in a couple days so next weekend we’re all going to an arcade. There’s this deal they’re doing this month with pizza and endless gameplay.”

She blinked in surprise. He read her mind.

“What? Arcades are fun no matter how old we are. And Chris loves shit like that. It’s going to be a blast.”

“Are you sure he won’t mind me being there? I mean, I’ve never even met him.”

Hyunjin sat on her desk chair, back facing him. Drumming a beat on his thighs, he shook his head, “Trust me, he’s the last person to mind.”

“O-kay,” Y/N turned away, packing her backpack with school stuff she would need for the weekend, “I’ll see. If I don’t have too much homework, I’ll go.”

“Thanks,” A look passed over his face, making her pause, before he uttered, “At least you’re supportive and willing to give my friends a chance. Unlike Yeji.”

She didn’t know what to say. Yeji had actually said something to him. Unbelievable. “Are you two good?”

“I guess.”

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

“It’s whatever. You know how she is.”

“Yeah.” Their silence was a symbol of their mutual understanding. Many people would never be able to fathom the bond the three of them had. Their friendship was a treehouse they had grown and built themselves, no one else had access to the inside.

She jumped when Hyunjin reached around her and shouldered her duffel bag. Searching his eyes, she imagined what he was thinking. Perhaps he was wondering why his cousin was making his life difficult. Y/N wished she had the solution and hoped Yeji would come around- though in all the years they’d known each other, she was as stubborn as a hangnail.

“I’ll walk you down.”

“Okay.”

~~~~

The wave of suffocation that washed over her was hard to shake off as she stepped into her childhood home. It was and it always had been her sanctuary. The same living room, the same kitchen, the same dining room table with mismatched chairs from different sets over the years. The same family photos scattered about, the same stains in the carpet. The same love in her heart for her parents.

Except it would never be the same.

Right after her high school graduation a few months ago, her parents told her that her dad wasn’t well. It wasn’t a cold, a flu, it wasn’t something he would get over in a month or two. It was something bigger than life itself, one that could command death with the clap of its hands.

She hated it with every single fiber of her being.

How could one illness dictate the paintings of memories? Now, she didn’t look at family photos of her and her dad and feel joy, only pain for a memory not tainted yet? When she smelled their laundry detergent in the air, she wondered if it would cover up her father’s scent in the unforeseeable future. It was morbid, it was suffocating.

Her sanctuary became her prison overnight.

“Your dad’s lying down in the room. If you want, you can bring him a snack,” Her mom suggested, Y/N nodding as she swallows the pool ball in her throat. She tried to ignore the paleness to her mother’s skin. Eyes bloodshot, body sluggish from lack of sleep. An alternate reality of the woman she once knew.

Her mom disappeared into the kitchen as Y/N shakily took off her shoes. This wasn’t the first time she had been home since she moved on campus, but she wasn’t used to the shift in her home. She probably never would be.

Just as she placed her bags down, her mom reappeared with her dad’s favorite snacks: Ritz crackers and sliced up cheese. In her other hand, a glass of orange juice.

“Thanks, mom,” Y/N didn’t recognize her own voice. She pretended not to hear the crack. Her mom ignored it, too.

“He’s going to be so happy to see you. All day, he’s been talking about you coming home.”

The words were a smack across the face-no, they were a hand reaching into her chest and breaking her ribs in half.

Her mind blanked.

And then she was in front of him. He was physically smaller than who used to be, his face pale and his hair greasy, but his spirit was just as scorching. His eyes were trained out the window, lips pursed in thought. His body might’ve been worn down, but his spirit would always be as bright as a fury.

She fought the urge to cry. Setting the glass down alerted him of her presence. At the sight of that same old smile she knew too well, all of her pain was washed away.

“Y/N, my girl. You’re home!”

“Hey, dad.”

His hugs were still strong, encasing her and letting her know she was safe.They talked for a bit, her heart swelling as she watched him eat his crackers. He asked her about school, he told her about what he’d been watching on tv these days. They even sidetracked and chatted about the new cars set to release this year. Hardly anyone knew it besides her best friends, but her and her dad shared even the smallest things in common- like their interest in cars.

When he invited her to watch a movie, she sat beside him on the bed and took a cracker when he offered. He put on some cringe comedy that they both made fun of, which is what really made them laugh.

There wasn’t any true remedy to her stress, to her unhappiness, like being home was. And her dad? Laughter was as natural as breathing when she was with him. Halfway through the movie, her mom joined them. She pretended she was okay just like her mom did, but with her dad cracking jokes it was easier to keep up the facade.

Once the end credits rolled, her eyes trailed to her dad. His eyes were distant, elsewhere. With one glance, she was reminded of a reality she hated. Noticing her staring, he shook it off and smiled beneath his moustache.

“Your dinner is in the microwave, Y/N,” Her mom told her. Y/N took that as a chance to breathe, standing up slowly. Right before she made it out the door, her dad called for her.

“Before I forget, here,” He shuffled through his bedside table before finding what he was looking for. Her mouth worked on its own, rejecting what he was clearly doing as he pulled out money from his wallet. The stern hush from him silenced her protests. “I want you to remember to treat yourself. I know how you get when you’re stressed. You don’t give yourself time to breathe. So treat yourself with this money, okay?”

“Dad…”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

~~~~

Several hours later, Y/N awoke from her already restless sleep. Her head was throbbing, her eyes puffy and nose runny, so she sluggishly made her way to the bathroom and cleaned herself up before deciding to go get some water. Quietly, she went down the stairs and turned the lights on in the kitchen.

She didn’t spend that much time in the kitchen, not anymore. Whenever she was home now, she wasn’t very hungry.

Just as she reached the halfway mark of her glass, her dad’s voice startled her and made her spill the rest all over her shirt. Her shock quickly dissolved into amusement as he tried not to laugh.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry,” She side-eyed him as he slowly made his way to the dining table. She knew he would get upset if she offered to help him. “What are you doing awake?”

“I have a lot on my mind.”

“Like what?” She asked, dreading the answer but asking nonetheless.

“The past,” He casually said, his eyes elsewhere once more. “Actually, I was thinking about when you were little.”

Y/N froze with her hands on the banana she had just taken off the bunch. She must’ve looked ridiculous, frozen like that. It was a good thing it was only her and her dad there, then. “Oh yeah?” She needed to get a handle on this. “What were you thinking of, exactly?”

He smiled to himself, then, and as he began to tell her a story, his voice coaxed her into the past.

“You had to have been six or seven, maybe eight. I had gotten off work early and decided to get you out of school early, too. You were so happy, not to see me, but to be out. Back then, you weren’t so wound tight about your studies, you know,” He teased her then, pointing a finger at her, “You wanted to be a grizzly bear when you grew up. Well, that day, when I was buckling you into your carseat you kept on saying, ‘Daddy, I’m so happy you’re here! You’re here! I’m so happy! Thank you, Daddy!’ I mean, I was your hero all because I picked you up early.

“After grabbing lunch, we were walking around the mall. Usually, you asked for candy or if we walked past a toy store, you wanted everything in it. That day was different. We walked past one of those off-brand shoe stores. You set your eyes on the most different pair of shoes I’ve ever seen. I mean, they were bright orange with blue shoelaces! And on each shoe, there was a drawing of a red bear.”

He paused in the story, and she looked away at the sight of his shining eyes. Laughing to himself, he continued.

“You said, ‘Daddy! That’s me! I’m a bear! Can we get those shoes? Please?’ I pretended to think about my answer, but I knew I was going to get whatever was at the end of the most pure adoration on your face.” Y/N blinked, realizing the story was over. They soaked in the feeling together, the ticking of the clock on the wall the only sound filling the kitchen. Except, it wasn’t the only sound. Even if she didn’t remember what he was talking about, she could picture those shoes as if she still wore them.

“Let’s go to bed, Dad.”

He nodded, both of them looking at each other and wishing they could rewind time. He, for nostalgia. She, to avoid the pain.

“Come on,” He said, wrapping his arms around her shoulder and kissing the crown of her head, steering her out the kitchen.

When she made it back to bed, she found it easier to fall asleep. Chest lighter, she seized the opportunity to ignore all of the overwhelming heartache that seeped into her skin whenever she was home.

> Part One <

> Part Three <

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