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ellana-ravenwood · 4 years

Text

The art of taking care of the woman you love - Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : You’ve always had really bad period pains. You learned to live with it, and to take care of yourself during those times...Up until a certain Bruce Wayne came into your life, and made it his mission to be there for you.

For @meghan-maria, who gotta be the sweetest out there :), and for anyone who ever had really bad period pains. I hope you will like it :

TW : periods. It’s obvious given the theme, but I guess we never know and better safe than sorry.

My master list : @ella-ravenwood-archives

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The First time it happened

It’s the fact you cancelled your planned date with him without an explanation that makes him worry.

“Sorry, can’t make it tonight. Will see you tomorrow !”

You never did that before, and you two were so busy neither of you would miss a date really. Not unless something bad or important happened. But then in that case, you would’ve told him, no ?

It made him so anxious. And he was starting to clearly overthink things.

Were you maybe...having second thoughts ?

You and Bruce made your relationship official not long ago, was the media’s pressure becoming too much ? You told him you’d be fine, but after a few months experiencing the plague that were paparazzi and invasive questions, did you change your mind ?

Or maybe it was because of the whole Batman thing ? You discovered that a while ago, even before making your relationship official so...why would you change your mind about it now ?

Maybe he came home with too many cuts and bruises. Maybe you were freaking out ? He would understand if you did.

Or...There was a last option that came to his mind : he upset you somehow.

It was entirely possible, sometimes he could get stuck in his own mind, and be a jerk without even truly realizing it. He knew that fact very well about himself. It was often the reason of how he ruined multiple relationships, friends or more.

The way he sometimes just got too focused on his vigilante work. Too obsessed. And could be stuck in a “dark mode” like you’d say...

But, he also knew that you never took any of his shit. You would’ve told him if something was really the matter, right ?

Right ?!

Should he ask Alfred if he noticed anything ? His butler, and surrogate father, always saw things that escaped him. Especially when it came to feelings.

This was a less known trait about Bruce, but ever since he was a child, he’s always been anxious. He was usually really good at hiding it, and his “Brucie Wayne” persona made everyone think it wasn’t possible for him to be anything else but confident and cocky but...it wasn’t true.

Especially when it came to those he cared about. Especially when it came to you.

You loved him despite his flaws, accepted him fully, without any conditions. It was the first time it ever happened, that he LET it happen...So, with this simple plan cancellation that was quite unlike you, he freaked out a bit.

In the middle of the day, he finally decided to call you. One. Two. Three tones before you picked up, and oh. Oh he felt so relieved to hear your little “hello ?”

At the same time, his worry peaked. Was it just him, or did you sound really weak ?

“Hey honey, just wanted to check if you were alright ? Your text was a little short, and I know you don’t owe me any explanations of course, but I just wanted to check on you. You know. I-um...”

Clumsy Brooshy.

It made you smile, the way he could be a little flustered and lose his words, when with you. And it made you smile even wider that he chose to call you to make sure everything was ok.

Sweet Broosh.

If you really didn’t want to talk to him, you wouldn’t have answered. And he wasn’t the kind of man to “insist”. He would’ve left a voice message, and leave you alone until you felt like calling him back. Bruce was most definitely not invasive...but at the same time, you’d never leave him worrying for no reasons, knowing how anxious he could be.

The truth was, your text was short because...You didn’t know how to tell him the reasons you needed to cancel your date. You didn’t want to embarrass him. Men didn’t really like to talk about what you currently were suffering from.

You also were a little embarrassed yourself, because the entire society surrounding you made you feel wrong for having periods.

Periods.

One week a month. Every single months. That was a lot.

Especially for you because...you always had complicated and difficult periods. Painful. Making you feel like you couldn’t move. The pain making it impossible for you to even get out of bed for long.

You and Bruce had been dating for a while but...weren’t periods sort of a taboo subject ? You didn’t really know how to tell him. Especially since most men really seemed uncomfortable with the all thing.

Of course, you should’ve know Bruce wasn’t “most men”.

“Baby, are you there ?”

“Um yes yes, sorry I was lost in thoughts.”

“Are you ok ? You don’t sound right.”

The most observant man in the World was obviously going to realize your voice sounded weaker than usually. The truth was, you were trying really hard to keep it steady as pain filled your being.

“Yes yes, I’m ok, just feeling a bit...under the weather ?”

“Is there anything I can do ? Is it a cold or something ? If so, I can bring you buy some chicken noodle soup, and pick up any meds you might need.”

You almost cried at his words.

Super busy bee Bruce Wayne was telling you he’d go out of his way to bring you what you needed...It made you crack a little.

He was too damn nice. And your hormones were in shambles. It was very easy right now for you to cry.

This. How willing he was to help you, how he immediately asked if he could...Was what made you say the truth without thinking twice :

“I’m-I’m on my periods. They’re usually- They’re usually bad.”

“Oh.”

His response scared you a little bit. Were you right, was this maybe too much, too soon ? You were about to add something when he said :

“I’ll be there in about an hour, if it’s ok with you ? If you prefer to be alone I can send-”

“No ! No, I would love for you to come. I just-I wasn’t sure-I-”

“It’s ok. I understand. See you in a bit, love you.”

“Love you, too.”

On that note, Bruce hung up and leaves you with a wild beating heart.

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

Exactly an hour later, your doorbell rings.

With difficulties, you stand up, and go open the door. Surely enough, it’s your boyfriend.

“Hi.”

He has a bag in his hand, and you melt a little at the soft look and smile he gives you (even if there’s clear concerns behind it). You let him in, and go sit on the couch, even if just sitting up is already too much.

“Do you want to lie down ?”

“No. No I’m fine. You came all the way here, I can’t just stay in bed haha.”

“Of course you can.”

There’s a small silence for a little bit. Not awkward, you’re just not quite sure what to do. Should you go back to bed ? You really want to. And clearly, he understands. He always does.

“Ok.”

You stand, and wince because moving really makes everything worst. He approaches you, worried, but doesn’t dare to touch you and just follows you into your room. You get back in your comfy bed, under your comfy comforter.

Another silence. Until he breaks it, taking something out of the bag he was carrying and saying :

“So. I wasn’t sure you had a hot water bottle, I don’t ever recall seeing one in your apartment. So I bought one on the way just in case. Sorry if you don’t like the color, I can pick another one up later. It’s just, the woman on YouTube said that heat pads and hot water bottles were great.”

“The...woman on YouTube ?”

“Yes, I watched a video on menstruations on the way here.”

For a few seconds, you just stare at him, stunned. Never EVER in your entire life did you think you would hear THE Bruce Wayne say those words one day.

“A video on menstruations ?”

“Well, yes. Obviously, I don’t have periods. So I have no idea what it feels like. So I watched a video, to understand the process. And also so that you wouldn’t have to explain anything to me. You know what periods are, you don’t have to educate me on it. It’s not your job. And I definitely don’t want to sound patronizing about it. So I watched a video, and read a few articles. I won’t say I know how it feels, but I understand it more. Tell me if I ever step my bounds at any moment..”

You can’t help but smile, even as your lower belly is on fire. Ah. Of course he would search things about it. Bruce was the kind of man to be thorough in his researches before tackling a problem. As Batman, he always tried to know everything there is to know about a situation before finding any solutions. But he was like that in real life too.

And it particularly touched you that he did it so you wouldn’t have to explain...You had an ex, once, who sat down with you to talk about menstruations and it sort of drove you crazy. He thought it was nice, but your hormones were wreaking HAVOC and he was trying to explain to you how periods work and what it felt like ??? Give you advice about it and that it would be fine if you did what he said ?? Excuse me ??? As if you didn’t try everything already to feel less pain. And as if, as a woman, you didn’t know what it felt like or what it was exactly...

And there came Bruce. Reading up on it. And knowing he would never quite know how it feels. But educating himself so he won’t say something that could trigger you in any way.

Sweet sweet man...If only people knew.

He caressed your cheek softly, before whispering :

“Then I-I watched something on endometriosis, because I read in a previous article it felt horrible. And you said your periods were bad, when we were on the phone. It sounds awful. Do you-...Have endometriosis ?”

You shake your head weakly. Endometriosis was one of the reason why your periods were so painful and dreaded. And the worst ? It was a sickness many people said didn’t even exist.

A woman being in pain during her periods ? Drama queen. Right ? It didn’t hurt that baaaaad. See, some women didn’t feel anything, just bled for a bit and moved on with their months. So obviously every women felt the same. Some were just being too sensitive...

Endometriosis was still, even to this day, a rather unknown illness and one that was rarely taken seriously. Some people just couldn’t even fathom you being in pain because of your periods, so much so that you couldn’t move.

That you occasionally fainted, that you couldn’t eat much because it made you vomit, that you had awful migraines, stomach ache and back pain. That you couldn’t focus or sleep because of it. No.

No those were just “made up symptoms” because you were “weak”...What awful things to say, right ? It was even worst to hear. Someone telling you this, as you felt like you were dying because of the pain, made you feel GUILTY to have painful periods.

But it wasn’t your fault ? IT WASN’T YOUR FAULT ?! Nor were the moodswings, the cravings, the fatigue...

You hated going to the doctors when you were younger, because you knew he wouldn’t believe you when you said your periods hurt...

Anyway. Even without endometriosis, women who had bad periods pain were rarely taken seriously. Unless they met another woman who felt the same. Then they’d feel like they weren’t alone, or crazy. Like there were others who felt bad too.

Every woman was different. And you unfortunately never met someone else with the same problems than you...

You felt very alone, for so long, and it was enhanced by your hormones going crazy and the pain being unbearable at times.

And then, in come Bruce.

Your Broosh.

“Ok. Well. I brought you some of your favorite food. And um, I picked up some snacks if you want to do a movie marathon ? I brought all The Lord of the Rings extended editions. I got heat pads and a hot water bottle like I said. We can also just cuddle and relax if you prefer, I read that physical comfort was good ? Or, I can leave everything here, settle you in properly, and leave you alone. Just, tell me what you need my love ?”

What did...you need ?

Nobody ever asked you that. Nobody. Not even your parents.

What did you need ?

The answer came quickly.

Him. You need him. His warmth. His large and soothing hands. His comforting presence. His calming voice.

You knew you were in love with him since a while now. You exchanged “I love yous” already. But never did you feel as much love for him as right now, seeing him sitting in front of you, asking you what you needed...

A simple action. Simple words. And yet, it meant everything.

“What do you need, honey ?”

The concern in his eyes, and how he was very obviously ready to do whatever you wanted him to.

It already made you feel better. The physical pain didn’t go down, that’s not how it worked unfortunately. But the emotional anguish ? Gone.

Because he was there.

Without even realizing it, you started crying. This was too much for your heart, too overwhelming. It meant the World, in that moment.

It meant the world, to you and your overworked hormones. And so you cried. You cried hard.

Without thinking twice, Bruce moved towards you. Taking his coat off and leaving it on the floor (Alfred would scold him about this for sure), he climbs in your bed and engulfs you in his arms. And it’s so warm and comforting, comfortable, too.

“Just tell me what you need..”

He whispered to you, in his deep calming voice, his fingers running soothingly through your hair.

“Could you just...keep holding me ?”

He smiles softly, and says :

“Of course.”

He never, and never would, shy away from comforting you in any way. If you needed to have a good cry in his arms, so be it. And if you just needed him to be there, he would be there.

You cuddled for a bit, the soothing circles he rubbed on your back doing wonders to make you feel relax. He brought some essential oils, that he massaged on your belly before filling the hot water bottle and laying it there...It relieved the pain a little bit, as you started a marathon of your favorite movies.

He took great care of you all day long, answering your every need even as you didn’t dare to ask...as if he could read your mind. You almost suspected he really could. You never felt so in phase with anyone before like you did with him.

You had been together for less than a year. Although your anniversary was right around the corner. But him coming over as soon as he knew you weren’t feeling well. Him educating himself on what was it that hurt you...

If you weren’t sure yet that he was the one...You knew now.

It sucks to be a woman, sometimes

Bruce never knew periods could be that bad. Well, of course, he was a guy. And “periods” was never really a subject he talked about with anyone. He never really paid attention to it, like many men really.

Until he saw you while on it.

He knew you. He knew you were a tough lady. Once, you broke your leg while on a date with him. A silly accident really. Involving an ice rink, and an overzealous you chasing a hockey puck...Long story short, you ended up with a bad break. And you barely said a word about it.

Bruce had his bones broken many times, he knew the pain of it. It was one of the pain he hated the most, along with burns. One he dreaded the most. And you took it like a champ.

The break was bad enough you even needed surgery, yet you kept smiling at him (he might’ve feel bad that he let his over-competitive mind take over, “pushing” you to really want that puck...but of course, it was not his fault, after all, you too were very competitive, it was a pure accident). Saying you were fine, and that it’d be ok.

He always hated seeing you hurt, it hurt him too. Inside. And scared the Hell out of him, to even think about you being harmed. So that day, he was rather frantic. You staying calm helped him, which made him feel a little guilty that even as you were the hurt one, you reassured him.

But then you reminded him the roles were often reversed when he came back hurt from a rough vigilante night...You always had the right words to ease his mind.

Anyway. That one time, after badly breaking your leg, you stayed rather calm and collected. But when you had your periods ?

He never knew it could hurt so much. You couldn’t hide your pain, or pretend everything was alright.

It was clearly a really bad moment to go through.

He knew about the terrible migraines, being unable to sleep which made everything worst, feeling like your lower belly was being twisted from the inside, being sore all over for no reasons, not being able to move...

Seeing you, was enough for him to know that periods sucked.

“Being a woman is the worst, sometimes!”

You’d often say during those moments, and he’d just soothe you, wishing he was in your place...

He hated when you were hurting. It hurt him too. Inside.

And never. NEVER would he doubt that you were in real pain. Because unlike the doctors who kept telling you it was in your head, he knew you. He saw you get injured before. He knew you were tough. So for you to not be able to pretend everything was fine...

You were hurting. Badly. And it was awful. But he believed you. He believed you and that’s all that mattered to you.

Space

He also knew how to give you space when you needed it, though.

He would be here if you needed him, bring you any food you craved, giving you relaxing massages, rubbing essential oils on your belly, filling up your hot water bottle etc etc.

To be honest, his reaction to you being on your period is what made you sure he would be a great father one day...And you were right.

Not a perfect father.

But oh. Oh he cared. And wanted so much to do good...

And he knew.

He knew exactly when he had to be there, and when he had to give you space.

His hoodie

Bruce couldn’t always be with you when you had your periods, of course.

He often took time off to be. But it was unrealistic to think he could be 24/7 with you the entire week.

And sometimes, when he was away, you really suddenly craved his presence...So you came up with a trick.

You stole his clothes.

Particularly, hoodies he often wore when hanging out casually in the Manor.

First of, they were very comfortable. And second, and most importantly : they smelled like him.

They were warm, had his scent, and you could fall asleep feeling like he was almost there.

Bruce couldn’t count the number of hoodies he lost to you....Then again, after a while, you’d ruthlessly abandon one because it stopped smelling like him, and would steal another one.

Of course, he never minded. In fact, beyond the fact hoodies were nice and comfortable, he started to wear them a lot while in the house or during times he didn’t need to wear a suit (in every sense of the term), specifically because he knew you’d steal them when you felt lonely.

It was cute. And it made his heart beat faster just thinking about it.

Nobody.

Nobody ever needed him that much before. Nobody ever loved him so much that sometimes him not being around was distressing.

Of course, he felt the same. And the knowledge that you too, would sometimes feel lovesick when you were separated for too long...Filled his heart to the brim with the best feelings.

For so long, he thought someone being dependable of him, and him being dependable of someone was bad...Oh, how he was wrong.

It’s not because you open your heart to someone that you’ll get hurt, or that they’ll use it against you. You just have to find the right person...

So. Yes. He will always cancel plans just to be with you.

To bring you hot water bottles whenever you need. To cook your favorite food and snacks. To be there during all your mood swings, and endure even if you’re not the nicest to him (it’s not your fault). To watch your favorite movies. To let you sleep in and run your errands...

Periods sucked.

He didn’t need to be a woman to know that.

So he was there. Right there. For you. Taking care of you. And he would forever be there for that.

But when he wasn’t ?

Then he’d strategically leave one of his hoodie near the bed, so you could steal it, and comfort yourself with his smell...

Mood Swings

“Brooooooooooosssssh...”

You’re crying. You’re crying !

And it makes Bruce panic. You cry very rarely, so when you do it means something really bad must’ve happened or..or...

Bruce makes a quick calculation in his head and...Yup.

It’s that time of the month again.

Already ? Poor you..

This means that tomorrow, you’ll be a mess as everything will hurt too much, and today, the eve right before, you’re overly emotional.

Hence you clinging to him right now, sobbing while repeating “I love you so much Bruce, I love you soooo much”.

Hormones could really turn your head around. Right at the start of your period, before the pain, you had a rush of many emotions.

You could either get very irritated for no reason (like “WHY IS THIS FLOOR ON THE FLOOR ?!”) or cry at everything. Right now, you were crying because you realized you loved your Broosh to death and you just had to tell him and you didn’t want him to go that night and...ah...

“It’s alright, it’s alright my love. You’re ok. We’re ok.”

He lets you cry in his arms, of course. And already made the decision to not go out tonight, and stay with you. Kate could take over. He couldn’t leave knowing your emotions were doing quite a trick on you...

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

Your mood swings during your periods were particularly bad.

You guessed it went in pairs with all the pain. Of course, not just one thing had to be exacerbated. Oh no. EVERYTHING bad about periods had to be turned to the max for you. Otherwise, were was the fun, right ? Sarcasm.

You’d get irritated for no reasons. Then feel bad and cry for hours. To then feel ridiculously giddy once again for seemingly no reason...and then suddenly a burst of anxiety would attack you.

It was a circus in your mind, and in your body.

You couldn’t focus on anything. You couldn’t sleep properly. You felt awful all the time. Everything hurt. God...

And there he was. Bruce. Taking the brunt of your bad moods without saying a word. He knew it wasn’t your fault. That you didn’t mean it. That your hormones dictated your behavior against your own will.

He knew.

And he was there.

He was there.

“Every little moment is important, Son” - Thomas Wayne, to Bruce during the Flashpoint events.

“Bruce ? What are you doing here ? Thought you had important meetings ?”

“They weren’t that important.”

“Really ? Lucious said-”

“Lucious is overdramatic. Anyway, Tim is taking care of it.”

“...You’re letting our sixteen years old son taking care of the future of your company ?”

“To be honest, he’s probably more competent about it than me.”

“...That’s actually pretty accurate. But, why did you cancel things ?”

“Because it’s this unpleasant time of the month, right ?”

“Oh. You don’t have to-”

“I absolutely do.”

Disappearing for a few seconds, your husbands comes back, wearing one of his favorite silk pajamas (and by “his” favorite, he really means : he knows you love them and think they look good on him, but won’t ever admit it because they’re “damn pajamas, it’s silly”...but he likes to please you). He then climbs in bed with you, and settles comfortable against you.

“So, what’s the program today ?”

This wasn’t unusual, for him to do this when you were on your periods.

In fact, it was almost a ritual. Delegating his works to others, so he could take care of you.

Ever since that first time, all those years ago, things didn’t change much. He would ask you what you need, you’d tell him, and he would do it happily.

He knew it was a tough moment for you, physically, hormonally, mentally...Having your periods sucked. So he was there. Right there.

The words his father...Well, not really his father. The “Thomas Wayne” of another dimension. What his father would’ve become if he died that fateful night, instead of his parents. Regardless, to him, it was his father.

The father that never saw him grow up and became the man he was now...Yet who had important words for him.

“Take advantage of every little moments, you never know when it’ll end.”

Those words stuck with him. Because it was true. It only took a few seconds in an alleyway for his whole world to turn upside down...Why would it take any less for it to completely change now too ?

What if something happened to you ? And he didn’t spend enough time by your side ? Or to his kids ?

There was a time, being Batman was everything to Bruce. Because he was angry, lost, and devastated.

But over the years...Over the years this role stayed important. But he expended his vision. He included others in it.

So. Yes. He would treasure those small moments with you. And if it meant taking a day and night off to take care of you during a rough time, then he’d do it. If it meant missing work (both his works) because one of his children was sick, so be it.

He was Batman. But he was also a husband. A father.

And now...Now he knew his priorities.

He’d never stop being Batman. Never.

But he knew now. He knew there was more to life than this dark world he thought he’d get stuck in till the end of his life.

“I was about to watch a movie.”

“A movie it is. If you want me here, of course.”

“Do you even have to ask ?”

“To make sure you’re ok ? Always.”

“-sigh- Yes. Yes Bruce, I want you here. I want nothing else, in fact.”

“Ah, not even pop-corn ?”

“...Once we’ll have pop-corn, I’ll want nothing else.”

“Um, why is there tampons in your drawer ??”

One day, one of Bruce’s associate, Carlton, needed some paperworks to finish a deal, and came into his office. Bruce was on the phone, and gestured to him to just pick the papers up in one of his desk’s drawer.

Only the man misunderstood and opened the wrong drawer and...

“What the-Why is there tampons and pads in your drawers ?”

He asked, half-bewildered half-amused. Bruce finished his phone call, and answered :

“Why wouldn’t there be ?”

“Um, are you a woman ?”

“No, but my wife, who often come to this office, is.”

“Jeez Louise Bruce, never pegged you to be such a simp haha ! Oh man, they’re even “organic”, how far can you go for one woman right ? Haha joking of course, or maybe..haha !”

There was something in the tone Carlton took that brushed Bruce the wrong way. Something disrespectful and irritating. Not disrespectful to him, as if he cared to be called a “simp” (by a grown ass man by the way, which made it even more ridiculous). No. He didn’t care. But..This was his wife, they were talking about, in the end.

“A...”simp” ? Because I have items who can be useful to my wife in my desk drawer ? A place in which she often comes, as I already said ?”

His voice was cold, and Carlton definitely noticed. He always thought Bruce was an affable man, but sometimes...Sometimes he had something almost scary in his eyes.

Ah, but Carlton wasn’t the kind of man to really take this things seriously. And he added :

“Come on Bruce, don’t you think it’s a little ridiculous ?”

“No.”

“I just think it’s funny you have a drawer full of those things.”

“As I said, my wife comes by often, and might need it sometimes. I keep them here for her. It often came in handy you know.”

“Don’t say that, that’s so gross.”

“Why ?”

“Just thinking about it.”

“Just thinking about something my wife, but also yours by the way, have no control over ?”

“My wife doesn’t- We just don’t talk about it.”

“Well I guess yes. Or you wouldn’t react that way. Do you not take care of her when she has her periods ?”

At the word “periods”, the man opened his eyes wide, which made your husband roll his. It truly TRULY baffled him that this dude was being grossed by OBJECTS and most likely didn’t take care of his wife ? How could you love someone and not want to comfort them ?!

“Well, I don’t think she- I- She doesn’t - I ...It’s embarrassing, no ?”

“No.”

“Well, maybe it’s not with your wife but with mine it has been. She asked me a few times to buy pads for her.”

“Why would it be embarrassing ? I can assure you, nobody is going to think it’s for you.”

Carlton’s face was steadily going red. He said :

“It’s just something we don’t talk about.”

“Why not ?”

“It’s just...gross and...”

“Why is it gross though ? Why do you think that way ?”

“I mean, you know what periods are right ?”

“Of course I do. It’s something happening to a very large chunk of our population, and that is a natural phase in their life. Do you think your wife wants to have periods ? Most likely not. Mine definitely doesn’t. But she does. So I do keep pads and tampons here in case of an emergency, in case she has nothing else on her.”

“Nothing else ?”

“Do you think only pads and tampons exist for women’s periods ?”

“I-”

“It’s not hard to read up on it a bit. Especially when someone as close as your own wife is a “victim” of it."

Awkard silence. Clearly, the man was uncomfortable. Bruce sighed, and said :

“Just go take care of those papers.”

Evidently relieved, his associate almost ran out of the room.

Bruce kept thinking about how funny Carlton thought it was to have pads in his drawers. How he was about to mock him further before he got called out. “Simp”. If taking care of the woman he loved meant being a simp, then whatever.

Bruce couldn’t stop thinking about his associate’s words. And it gave him an idea...

The next day, every newspapers and local news channel talked about how the (Y/N) Wayne Foundation gave millions of dollars to every school and public places in the country to provide free tampons and pads to women. And how Bruce Wayne became a huge advocate of the “period positivity” movement his wife started.

“Periods shouldn’t be taboo.”, he said in his speech for the grand-opening of thousands and thousands of free pads distributors.

When the kids are around.

Dick

Dick was little when he first witnessed what your periods did to you, and he downright panicked when you fainted in front of him while you two were shopping for Bruce’s birthday present !

That morning when you woke up, you knew you were going to have your periods. You always felt it in your bones, a little bit before it truly started...But you also promised little Dickie you’d help him chose a gift for your husband.

You hated breaking your promises. Especially the one you made to your kid. He was just nine, and already experienced so many heartache...You couldn’t just break a promise you made to him, no matter what.

So you went anyway, knowing there was a high chance you’d feel ill during the day. You were hoping, in fact, your periods wouldn’t truly start up until the evening, and so you could spend the day with your son.

Alas...

“Mom ? Mom !? Someone help !!”

Your fainting during your period never lasted long. Just a sudden drop of energy, feeling dizzy, and falling...you woke up fast. Opening your eyes to see your baby boy with tears in his eyes. You knew what happened, and reassured him immediately.

You refused to call an ambulance, and instead called Alfred to ask if he could come pick you two up (you would NOT risk driving while in this state).

And there you were, sitting on a bench with your son while waiting for Alfred who would be there as soon as it takes to get from Wayne Manor to Gotham’s City Center.

“Are you sure you’re ok ?”

“Yes, don’t worry, this is normal.”

“Fainting is not normal !”

Dick looked so distressed...Should you tell him what was going on ? But he was such a young child.

Ah. But you were amongst the people who thought that kids weren’t as stupid as many people thought. And that they could handle the truth, especially this kind of things.

Understand what was happening to you would surely easy his mind. And make him understand, and act accordingly in the future. Wether with you, or a possible girlfriend ?

So you do just that.

You explain to him what is going on. You don’t give too many scientific details, but you explain as best you can so he understands.

“And every women has it ?”

“Every women have periods yes. But not everyone’s hurt.”

“Why do yours hurt ?”

“We don’t really know. I guess I wasn’t lucky ?”

“Scientists don’t know ?”

“Well, research on it are rather recents to be honest.”

“Why ? Women had it long ago too no ?”

“Yes, but it was a little taboo.”

“Why ?”

“Patriarchy.”

“Oh, damn patriarchy.”

You laugh. You knows he didn’t understand your answer, said as a joke to yourself. But it’s absolutely adorable how he immediately sides with you anyway.

“When I grow up, I’ll be a scientist. So I can help.”

“Ah, I thought you wanted to be an adventurer like Indiana Jones ? Or “whatever dad is doing I want to do it too” ?”

“Well. I can do more than once things at the same time, right ?”

“Sure you can. You can do anything.”

He smiles at you, and get closer for a little cuddle. And that’s how Alfred finds you two, your son hugging you, and you hugging him back, on a bench in the streets...

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

After the initial panic, Dick made it his mission to take care of you. He got really scared when he saw you faint, and would actually be a little...overbearing.

When he knew you were on your periods, he’d literally forbid you to walk around, and would make sure you had everything you needed.

His attentions, plus Bruce’s, made you feel like periods weren’t so bad in the end ?

Even as a grown up, Dick would often come by the manor with your favorite cake, for example, when he knew you didn’t feel well. And he would still get strict with you if he saw you roaming around and getting too busy while he knew you were in pain.

He’d do whatever you had to, for you. Wether it was cleaning things up, picking groceries...Running any errands for you, so you could rest.

You were definitely grateful. Even if sometimes, you wish you could just tell him to ease up a bit...Ah. But how could you really ?

The trauma Dick felt when loosing his parents made him overprotective and rather intransigeant. This was just how he was. And you always loved all your children unconditionally. You could take him being a bit too overprotective sometimes, because oh, oh he brought so much in your life...

Jason

You having really bad periods is the reason why when Jason, as a child or an adult, heard anyone say to a girl : “Jeez, why you so moody are you on your periods ?!”, would get mad.

It was cute to see his little ten years old self lecture grown adults about it : “Periods are really tough on a girl ! It’s not their fault is they don’t feel well or have mood swings, be more empathetic !”.

And it was still cute to see him as an adult glare at those who’d say this and give them a sermon about why it was wrong, and they better not say it again “or else” (and when a man like your son said the words “or else”, literally no one wanted to find out what he meant by it).

Once, someone told him, sarcastically :

“Wow, you drunk a lot of “respect women juice” huh ?”

“What is that even suppose to mean ? I’m being a decent human being. You should try it sometimes. If respecting women is so foreign to you, that hearing me say what I said is funny and ridiculous, reassess your life mate.”

It’s really not like anyone really wanted to argue with your son. Besides the fact he was very tall, and as a vigilante definitely worked out a lot...he had a “dangerous” air about him. It was his eyes maybe, daring anyone to argue and making them understand he wouldn’t back down without a fight ?

Ah. But if only people tried to look beyond that. If they only tried to know your son.

They’d realize he’s the sweetest little buddy around.

It surprised people that you still called him “little buddy” even as he was fast approaching his mid-twenties. But for you...

For you he was still that little, sweet Jay he was before he died. The one that you could still see sometimes, behind all his anger, trauma and hurt.

Ever since he was a child, Jason always felt everything more than anyone around him. He was an “hypersensitive” child. When he was angry, he was enraged. When he was happy, he was the happiest boy on Earth. When he was sad, it was hard to console him.

When he grew up, and all those bad things happened to him...This trait of his got even more enhanced. It was sometimes hard to reach him under all those negative emotions...Yet. Yet you managed to do it.

Bruce too...But that was another story.

For now, you just always felt extremely proud that your son was actually not as harsh as some people thought (the same mistakes they all kept making about your husband...you hated this kind of assumptions).

He always stood up for the underdogs. And was always respectful, and would voice his opinions.

Like how he hated when people told women : “ugh are you on your periods ?!” if they were being just a tiny bit difficult (sometimes, not even).

As a kid, Jason would worry a lot about you when you were on your periods. He hounded Bruce to know if you were ok, which your husband didn’t mind, of course. But he never quite dared to “bother you”.

Of course, he would never bother you. But Jason was a complicated kid who always worried too much. He didn’t want to get in your way, or annoy you.

So he had little quiet actions for you.

Like getting your slippers warm when you’d wake up, by placing them near the radiators all night and putting them right beside your bed before you’d wake up. Or bringing you hot beverages. Baking your favorite treats, and leaving them in strategic places so you’d see it. Or scolding his dad when he thought he wasn’t taking care of you enough haha.

Jason was a good kid. Nobody would ever change your mind on that. He was a good kid, to whom bad things happened. Yet he never strayed from his principles...No matter how people could see his recent actions.

Jason was a good kid.

He was your kid.

As a child, he hated this week during which you had your periods. He dreaded them as much as you did. Just like Bruce, he had a hard time standing you being hurt...

As an adult. It was the same. And he still had little silent actions to make you feel better. To make your day easier.

That was Jason for you.

Such, such a good kid...

Tim

Tim, very much like his father, was a boy who needed to always have a plan, and to know everything before finding solutions.

When you were on your periods, he’d always know. Because he kept a calendar about it.

Some people might find it weird, but...Why ? He kept count of the days to know when you’d have your periods, so he could act accordingly. So he wouldn’t be caught off guard by one of your mood swings. And so he could take care of you ??

It was an act of care, to keep track of your periods. Sometimes, he even knew before you when you were going to have it.

People who thought it was weird to kept such a calendar, were the same people who thought periods were gross and a taboo subject.

Sure, it was definitely not very glamorous. But it was part of half of the World’s population life ?? Why keep it taboo and refusing to talk about it ?

Tim immediately, just like his dad, did a lot of research on women’s menstruations...Which got you to be called in his principal’s office once.

The man was worried, and unhappy that your son was reading a magazine “for woman” about “menstruations”, he thought the topic was vulgar and inappropriate.

Your son was 13. Which was also the age many of his girl friends were experiencing their first periods. And that principal was out there, scolding him because he talked about it, making an entire generation of little girls thinking they were wrong for having periods ?

Needless to say, you got rather mad. And the principle never called you ever again (if he had to call, he was always making sure to get your husband on the line, and not you).

And so Tim kept learning everything possible about it, in the hope also to find the perfect remedies to ease your pain. He tried a lot, to help you out. Gave tricks to Bruce, too.

And so, kept a calendar.

This allowed him to know if something was wrong, as well.

He was the first one to guess you were pregnant with Thomas, because of his calendar. And one time, you had hormonal problems and he’s the one that told you you should check an endocrinologist because you’d been too irregular with your periods time !

Yes. Just like his dad, Tim needed to know a situation fully before acting. And seeing him trying to know as much as he could in order to help you was...why, it was the most adorable thing in the world.

Cass

Cass’ periods were not painful, and you were so glad for her.

To her, it was a mild annoyance, there was no pain, it was just irritating. And yes, she had mood swings and could easily get mad, but it was nothing major.

She never even knew other women could have it so bad...The education about periods was really lacking ! They never talked about it anywhere !

Cass was a woman of few words...but she knew how to pass her emotions through her body language. Oh, how she knew.

“Momma.”

Just like your other kids, she’d come check on you when Bruce couldn’t take care of you. You wanted space sometimes, which they all understood. But honestly, during your periods, when you were so sensitive about everything ? You also wanted them around almost all the time.

A paradox. Very fitting of those damn periods time.

Cass would just sit with you, and make sure you were comfortable. She wouldn’t say a word. Lay her head on your shoulder, and hold your hand. Watch movies with you. Hold you close.

She was delicate with you, as if afraid to break you.

Just like your husband, her presence had a soothing effect ? As if nothing bad could ever happen to you as long as she was there (and that probably was right, Cassandra would never let anyone touch her “momma”).

She didn’t need to talk. She didn’t need to do anything more than stay with you when you didn’t want to be alone.

She never experienced the pain you had, but if even to her, who had painless periods, it was annoying and a damn plague ? Then to you...

She didn’t need to do much.

Just her being there already meant a lot.

Her holding onto you, even as she stayed afraid of anyone’s touch for so long.

“Momma.”

Cassandra was your only daughter. And oh you were glad her periods weren’t as bad as yours. That’s all that really mattered to you.

“Momma.”

You often fell asleep with the warmth of your kiddo right there. Next to you. Knowing she wasn’t going to leave unless you wanted to. Knowing she wish she could take your pain on.

Ah. But no. No even if it was possible you’d never allow that. You were the mom. YOU were supposed to take their pains on.

And knowing that Cass never suffered on her periods as bad as you did, was enough. After all, your baby suffered enough in the past...She could get a little lucky, right ?

“Momma.”

That word was music to your hear. Cass’ first word to you.

She didn’t need to talk anyway. Being here was enough...

It was more than enough.

Damian

Everyone who saw Damian around you would notice that he wasn’t quite the same boy than "normally”.

He was calmer, nicer, and sweeter.

You’d argue that it was his real self. That this was his “normal”. That he was just never allowed to show his true heart before, and wasn’t used to trust others and open up. And you were definitely more than happy that he finally managed to do that after arriving into your home.

That none of you ever gave up on him.

You especially had a calming effect on him. After all, he never had a “conventional” mom, who could take care of him when he was sick, kiss him good night and make sure he always had everything he needed.

Some would say you coddled him too much...And you didn’t care. Because that boy lived 10 years being the opposite of coddled. So what, if you’d cut the crust off of his sandwiches, or read him bed time stories every single night ?

Damian loved it. As he often said, being a momma’s boy was “hardly something he was ashamed of”. He never felt loved and safe before, you bet he’d take every chance he got to be cared for.

He never got to act like an actual kid. You allowed him to do just that, AND you made him feel like he belonged. Finally. Like he had an actual family.

So...The day he heard about your absolutely awful periods, what did he do ?

Every single day of your life with him, you had at least one nice intention to him. Wether it was baking his favorite cookies, or telling him how proud you were of him, you always had nothing but kindness for him, often going out of your way for your son.

It was normal for you. Of course. And you did it with all your children...but you had to admit maybe Damian had just a little more of it, because he really never had anything like that to him.

And to him, it only felt normal then, when you felt at your worst, that he’d be there for you exactly like you were there for him.

During any mood swings, he’d have comforting words for you. He had little attentions for you that just made life easier.

Again, it would greatly surprise anyone but his family, but when you had your periods, he did a lot of overly sappy little things.

Like for example : every month, he wrote seven things he found extraordinary about you and would put them in a jar. Seven. The number of day in a week. And usually the number of day, give or take, your periods would last.

The jar would be sitting right on your bedside table on the first day, with the indications you had to read one paper every morning, or every time you felt down (it was supposed to be one paper a day). Sometimes, you’d go through his seven messages in less than a day...and magically, the next day, the jar would be filled again.

Damian made sure of it.

This was just a small example. But it showed exactly what kind of boy your son really was.

If he was heartless, a killer, someone destined to destroy the World...would he really put that much effort into making you feel love ? Into making you feel better any way he could ?

You didn’t think so. The only way your son could ever “turn bad”, was if you (and Bruce) stopped caring for him. Left him alone (A/N : this is a CLEAR jab at current comics canon, if you know what I mean :I ). Only if he felt abandoned, unloved, and rejected.

You knew your boy had, just like you, “rejection dysphoria”. It was hard for him to accept any kind of rejection, and it made him act out and hurt. But that was another story...

Right now, all that mattered to you, is that you knew your son was always going to be there for you, just like you’d always be there for him.

That he finally learned how to love, and care. That he would never unlearn it, as long as you lived.

Your periods sucked.

So bad.

But Damian was a ray of light in the darkness of those seven dreaded days...

Duke

Duke’s mom also had endometriosis.

Over the years, he perfected a “special remedy” he always made her when she had her periods.

He hesitated to make it for you. After all, it was something that made him bond greatly with his own mom...was making it for you, now, acceptable ? Did it mean he forgot about his mother ?

No. No of course not.

Duke scolded himself for even thinking that. You too, became his mom. He learned over the years that it was ok, to have two mom. That when they’ll find a cure for his parents, it wouldn’t take away the years you filled in for the mother role, and took care of Duke as if he was your own.

So here we go.

Some ginger. Some lemon. A dash of his little secret ingredients. Your favorite blend of tea. And it was done.

He brought it to you, saying it always soothed his mom...

And just that.

Just those words. It meant so much.

“It always used to soothe my mom. Used to do it all the time, ever since I was five !”

He said with a smile.

It was something he used to do for his mom, and now he did it for you. Just this. Just that fact, it was enough to make you feel better.

It didn’t take away the pain, but mentally ? It felt amazing.

You drunk his concoction and...Oh god.

Oh god it was disgusting. And...Ah. Yes. His mom probably pretended she liked it. “Ever since I was five !”. Ha. So cute. But also, it really was gross.

At the same time, you felt a pleasant warmth spread through your body as the terrible aftertaste slowly faded. Duke smiled to you, and with a little mischief in his voice said :

“It’s really gross, isn’t it ? But it does the trick haha”

There was a few seconds of silence. During which you blinked at him, not quite registering what he just said. Until...

You burst out laughing. The little mischievous smile, and the way he said “it’s really gross, isn’t it ?” was just too funny.

Your communicative laugh spread to Duke, and as he laughs it makes you laugh even louder too and...You forget.

For a moment you forget about your periods. The pain. The anguish. The emotional labor. This damn week of hell.

You forget.

And you just laugh.

You laugh alongside your son.

Thomas (if you wonder who the H is Thomas, you can check my “Batmom” masterlists, he appears from the story “the great mall adventure” ^^)

Thomas must’ve been about four, when he first saw you having your periods.

Your littlest baby was also one of the most sensitive out of them all (right along with Jason, the two of them cried their eyes out when they watched “Inside Out” and Bing Bong disappeared). Bruce always said he took that after you. And honestly, you couldn’t disagree. It’s true you could be very sensitive.

So one morning, when he woke up and went to breakfast and heard you weren’t feeling right, he immediately went to you and...

Bruce found him an hour later, crying in his room.

“Oh wow hey hey, what is it buddy ?”

He asked, trying to hide the panic in his voice. Thomas might’ve been sensitive, but he rarely cried. He was just a very empathetic boy. But also a cheerful one, and he had a knack to see the good even in the worst situations.

So seeing him sob like that, made Bruce’s heart drop.

“Is mommy going to die ?!”

It took Bruce a few seconds to get a hold of his racing heart. His son crying. And asking if you were going to die. It shortcircuited his brain for a few seconds. Until he realized what Thomas was talking about...

“Oh, oh no champ, no, mommy isn’t going to die.”

Your kids were used to see you strong and fierce. Of course the first time your little one would see you on your period, he’d think something big was wrong.

He had just recently learned what death really mean (you can read about this here : The day he understand what Death means), and since then was so scared it’d happen to his parents. Or his siblings. Or anyone he knew, really...

Picking up his son and slowly and softly tapping his back in soothing circles, he walked around the room and rocked him until the boy calmed down a bit, before trying to explain as best he could why mommy felt bad, without going in in too many details.

Once Thomas understood this was just like when he got a fever that time, that it would pass, he felt much better. But also worst. Because his mommy wasn’t feeling well ! And it happened often !

Bruce reassured him that there were ways they could help you...And soooo :

Thomas brought you hot water bottles, with the help of his dad (the bottles were almost as big as him), and ended up falling asleep on one as it laid on your belly (he heard that humans’ body heat was very strong and wanted to “help the hot water bottle”).

The water in the bottle became cold, and you removed it..Your son didn’t woke up, so you laid him back down on your belly. And he was warm and so tiny, and you loved him so much...It made you feel like the luckiest woman in the world, to be surrounded by people like this little one.

And all your kids. Alfred. Your friends. Broosh...You fell asleep with sweet dreams made of warmth and cuddles.

Not long after, Bruce came by to check on you, finding both you and Tommy deeply asleep and...An overwhelming feeling of happiness took him over.

You weren’t the only one feeling lucky. Except for Bruce...For Bruce it was even stronger, because after his parents died, he never thought he would be happy ever again.

This was why he’d always be there for you. You gave him another family...

His schedule was freed, and he had a busy day. A nap sounded perfect. Especially while nestled against you, with his little one right there.

Dick came by in the afternoon, and found all of you like this. Bruce holding both you and his son, Thomas taking way more space than such a small body would make you thing he’d take.

Dick snapped a picture, and send it to the group chat he had with his siblings and some other close friends and such (like Clark, Wally, Conner, Diana etc etc they used the group chat to gossip about Bruce, mainly). With the caption : “Big bad bat tamed by a four year old”.

Cass send multiple hearteyes emojis. Jason said it was adorable and send a crying emoji, and didn’t care one bit what anyone would think of him saying such things. Damian yelled at Dick that he should’ve put the comforter back up on his baby brother and mom because it wasn’t properly put on !! Duke send a : “I’m downloading that picture for the next time he gets mad at us and we need to soften him up”. Tim replied with a gif of Maes Hughes from Full Metal Alchemist saying : “dis dad”. Clark said “they look so peaceful, you wouldn’t believe he threatened me just yesterday to punch me because I made a joke” to which Diana answered : “that joke was so bad I wanted to punch you to. Cute pic btw, give kisses to Tommy for me, you should come see me more, I just stocked my freezer with nothing but ice creams”..Everyone send a little comment about it.

Because even superheroes, could have normal conversations about those they love.

Suffering alone is a thing of the past

It’s funny. You couldn’t even remember, now, what it felt like “before”.

Before.

Before you met Bruce.

Before that first time he showed up to your apartment to take care of you.

How were your periods before that ? The worst.

Definitely.

Actual Hell.

Not that they were feeling better now. Oh no. There were time your overdramatic self exclaimed : “uuuugh just kill me alreadyyyy” when the pain was too grand...But you weren’t alone anymore.

That’s what made it a bearable moment of the month.

It still felt as bad as it used to when you were younger.

But it wasn’t just you agonizing in your bedroom all alone anymore.

It wasn’t you wishing you’d have someone to take care of you, and to try and ease the pain. Not anymore.

It wasn’t you crying with nobody to dry your tears anymore...

No. You had an entire army of people right there just for you.

Alfred, your children, and most of all...Bruce.

Your Broosh.

Ah. If only some people could see this side of him you and your family knew. The caring and loving one. In a way though, it was rather comforting and made you feel special, that only you and your kiddos knew the real Bruce ?

Of course nowadays, some of his closest friends like Clark and Diana weren’t fooled anymore either. But they’d never see him the way you did, when you were in unbearable pain, and he was right there, drawing soothing circle on your back, keeping you warm and safe...

This was only privy to you.

Your Broosh.

Yes.

Your periods were still as painful as they used to. But now...

Now you weren’t alone anymore.

The end.

________________________________________________

Hey guys ! I hope you liked this :). As usual, feedbacks and reblogs are always welcomed ! (Especially lately, the reblog ratio seems at its worst haha). And again, I really hope you liked this. I was finally able to sit down and write after weeks of being stuck in a depressed mood, so I’m quite excited about sharing this. But as usual, always a bit nervous that you’ll be disappointed blahblahblah low self-esteem and all that haha... :). I just hope this is to your liking. Thank you.

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boowanie · 3 years

Text

Pairing: Wonwoo x Reader

Genre: Angst and fluff

Warnings: Minor character death and slight mention of a panic attack.

WC: 6.7K+

Summary: You never thought that the stranger you met one night would become someone special to you.

“What’s happening?” Wonwoo called out as soon as he set foot into the house he shared with his close friends. He could hear the distant shouting happening somewhere in the house, a possible indication of a fight occurring between his housemates again. And he was right, there stood Seokmin and Mingyu, throwing harsh words at each other; something to do with dirty laundry sprawled across the kitchen floor.

“Didn’t I tell you to do your laundry THREE days ago Seokmin?” Mingyu bellowed at the top of his lungs. Seokmin’s glare only intensified as he clenched his right hand into a fist. Wonwoo stood at the bottom of the stairs, worried eyes observing the two.

“You yell at me for nagging you but here you are doing the same thing!” Seokmin snapped back. Before Mingyu could reply back, Joshua came in between the two, stretching his arms out to separate the fuming boys.

“Alright boys, it’s just laundry. Seokmin do your laundry now and Mingyu, take a nap to cool off or something.”

Seokmin turned on his heels, rushing down the stairs to do as he was told, greeting Wonwoo with an apologetic smile. Wonwoo sighed, walking up to his room to get the rest he was yearning for for the past week. He closed his door, padding towards his window to move the curtains shut. Without any source of light coming into his room, he laid down on his unmade bed, sighing as his head softly hit the pillows.

Wonwoo didn’t realise he fell asleep until a gentle nudge awoke him from his nap. “Wonu, it’s dinner time,” Soonyoung whispered, afraid to frighten Wonwoo with his normal tone of voice.

Wonwoo hummed in response, nuzzling his head against the pillow, “I’ll be down in a sec, Hoshi.” Soonyoung patted his cheek gently before making his way out of the room while Wonwoo tried his best to sleep again. However, Wonwoo’s ear perked up to the sound of his phone ringing in the pocket of his jeans.

He released an irritated sigh as he unhurriedly answered the phone. “Hello?” Wonwoo greeted with sleep dripping from his voice. “Wonwoo?” the person on the other line asked. Wonwoo’s sleepy eyes widened at the sound of Jiyeon’s, his ex-girlfriend’s, voice. An uncomfortable silence lingered in the air as Wonwoo sat up on his bed.

“What do you want?” he asked without any hint of friendliness in his voice. He heard something shuffle on Jiyeon’s end before she began to sob uncontrollably. Wonwoo could only roll his eyes at how pathetic she could be.

“P-please take me back, I promise I’ll be faithful to you and only you. He was a mistake, you have to believe me,” Jiyeon cried but Wonwoo remained stoic despite her pleas. He muttered a quick “no” before ending the call with her. He sighed for the last time before laying back down on his bed again.

—

Wonwoo devoured the pork belly Jeonghan left on the kitchen table for him since he took another nap after the unexpected call from Jiyeon. He began to ponder on the idea of getting back with his ex while he placed his plate on the rack. However, he quickly dismissed the idea after he remembered the pain he went through when he caught Jiyeon and her classmate in the middle of a makeout session on her bed. Wonwoo couldn’t believe his eyes and his first instinct was to punch the guy before fleeing the scene in tears.

But he couldn’t deny the hurt coursing through him after the phonecall he had with her but he also knew it was wrong to keep hurting himself like that. His eyes lingered on the washed plate, blinking once in awhile to stop the tears gathering in his eyes. Mingyu, who entered the kitchen not too long ago, watched him as he leaned silently on the fridge, careful not to scare him although it failed as soon as Wonwoo faced the door. The older male jumped, clutching his chest in the process. “Kim Mingyu, what the hell?” Mingyu waved at him from where he was standing, a sad smile on his lips.

“Wanna talk about it?” Mingyu asked. Wonwoo shook his head, knowing that he had already drunkenly poured out his feelings to Mingyu and the rest of his housemates for weeks after the breakup. He didn’t want to burden them more with his personal problems.

“Nah, I’m good. I think I just need to get some fresh air.”

—

He wandered around his university campus, finding the empty rooftop Mingyu mentioned the night before. Mingyu discovered it after a stressful exam where he walked around campus, trying to find somewhere to spill his tears. And that’s when he found the rooftop of the science building, empty and abandoned through the blurriness of his tears.

Wonwoo spotted the science building and made his way up through a secret passage that Mingyu instructed him to take. He climbed the rusty stairs that creaked with every step he took which alarmed him but he continued his way up anyway. When he got to the top, he found the door shut tightly which he nudged open with all the force he could muster.

When the door finally budged, Wonwoo heard a loud curse which made him panic at the sound coming from the other side.

“Who the fuck?”

“Shit I’m so so so sorry-”

“Well don’t just fucking stand there, help me up.”

Wonwoo blinked at you for a couple of seconds before your words registered in his mind. He let out a faint “oh right” before offering you his hand. You gladly took it, wincing at the shooting pain in your elbow which you were convinced was bleeding.

“Fuck, my elbow’s bleeding. Thanks a lot you idiot.”

Wonwoo reached out to grab your elbow in his hand. His eyes lingered on your bleeding elbow before taking some unused tissues that were shoved in his coat pocket. He dabbed the tissue on the bleeding wound, wincing now and again.

“You do know I’m the one bleeding and not you?” you scoffed, your eyes focused on his face rather than the blood trickling down your elbow.

“You shouldn’t have been standing there anyway,” Wonwoo muttered.

“So you think it’s my fault?” you questioned.

“No, why are you even up here at this ungodly hour,” he whispered, not wanting you to hear.

“I could ask you the same,” you replied. Wonwoo took out another tissue and asked you to hold it in place since he didn’t have any band aids with him, but you shrugged off his order and thanked him instead before taking a seat on the ground. You chugged the remaining beer in your can and crushed it with your hands.

Wonwoo watched you with curious eyes as you cracked open another can and handed it over to him. You stood up and gathered the cans of beer lying on the ground before making your way towards the door.

“Rooftop’s all yours.”

You were gone before Wonwoo could answer. He began to wonder who you were and what you were doing on the rooftop at this hour of the night but he realised that maybe you were here for the same reason he was; to get away from reality. He took a long sip of the beer you handed him, his eyes spotting a notebook where the crush cans were once scattered.

He reached out, reading the black ink across the cover of the notebook, y/n. he didn’t mean to flip through it but curiosity got the better of him and he opened the notebook to find art pieces scattered on the pages.

“Huh, aren’t you a mystery.”

—

You awoke the following morning to the sound of your roommate yelling at you. As soon as you opened your eyes, you instantly massaged your temples to soothe your throbbing headache but it wasn’t enough to calm the soreness you were feeling. Your roommate’s voice did nothing to help ease the pain and Seungkwan only worsened it by pushing your bedroom door against the wall with a loud thud.

“Drunk again?” he huffed, pinching his nostrils close to stop the smell of alcohol from making him gag. Seungkwan never liked it when you drank, he didn’t like the smell and he certainly hated the fact that you were slowly drowning yourself with alcohol to make the pain of losing someone go away. Seungkwan tried to convince you that he could help but you always turned down his offer with a lousy excuse that you “can handle it”. As a year passed by, your drinking habit only worsened but you still managed to ace your classes and somehow function with all the alcohol that was in your system.

“That’s the last time I’ll ever drink Seungkwan, I promise,” you stuck your pinky finger towards him, wiggling it as you waited for him to wrap his own around your finger. You really wanted to stop and this time, you wanted to keep your promise to your bestfriend to ease the worries he had for you and your health. Seungkwan could only sigh at his bestfriend as he took your pinky finger around his.

“I made you hangover soup y/n” is all he said after he turned on his heel and left your room with a quiet sigh. You looked around your room, the curtains still shut to prevent any source of light from shining through the window but the god awful smell of alcohol that reeked in your room was enough for you to stand up and pull the curtains open. You nudged the window with your hand and the sudden gust of wind had you almost stepping back by its force. You still welcomed it and as you cleaned around your room, the smell of alcohol slowly dissipated (with the help of some yankee candles).

When you entered the kitchen, the smell of bacon made your stomach churn and your nose wrinkle at the slight scent of burning food. “Seungkwan! your bacon is burning,” you yelled, walking over to remove the bacon from the frying pan. You heard Seungkwan yell something you couldn’t quite hear so you shrugged and turned off the hob. Your eyes landed on the hangover soup he made you and your stomach growled at the sight.

“Thanks for the soup, Kwannie,” you yelled out to him.

You were thankful for the fact that your photography lecture didn’t start until one in the afternoon so you had plenty of time to soothe your headache and plan out your night carefully without having to involve bottles and bottles of soju this time. You wanted to go up to the rooftop to retrieve your notebook that you forgot to take before leaving the handsome stranger all alone.

Your mind wandered back to him. You remembered the panic in his eyes when he saw the blood gushing down your elbow and it made you chuckle slightly. You lifted up your elbow to glance down if a scab was starting to form on the wound. Your grimaced at the sight and continued to eat your soup again.

“Hey, I found this in your jacket,” Seungkwan held up some bloody tissues with a worried look on his face. You shook your head at him, raising your pointer finger asking him to wait.

“I fell yesterday,” you finally spoke once your mouth was clear of any traces of food. Seungkwan quirked an eyebrow at you, his hands settling on his hips to wait for an explanation.

“I was up at the rooftop last night and some guy pushed the door open and I happened to be sitting right in front of it which was totally my fault,” you explained. You watched as your bestfriend sighed, walking over to the bin to throw at the tissues.

“You should be more careful next time y/n.”

“Sorry Seungkwan,” you picked at your food guiltily. You didn’t want to worry him all the time but you always manage to anyway. He watched you pick at your food for a while before making his way over towards you.

“Look at me,” he muttered softly, bringing his hand under your chin. You raised your head to look up at him. He gave you a small smile before pressing his lips on your forehead.

“You know I’ll always be here for you y/n, right?”

—

Wonwoo awoke not too long ago because of Seokmin and Mingyu yet again. He rolled his eyes when he heard Mingyu yelling as Seokmin chased him around the house. He stretched his arms above his head, his top slowly riding up to reveal a small section of his lower stomach. He grabbed his glasses that were sitting on his bedside table along with the notebook that belonged to you.

He mentally noted to ask Minghao if he knew anyone called “y/n”. It seemed like you were an art student so Minghao was the first person he thought of. He stood up from his made and made his way over to his bathroom to start getting ready for his morning lectures.

He brushed his teeth slowly, his mind wandering back to how you cursed at him last night which made him chuckle at the memory. He didn’t mean to continue flipping through your artwork last night but he was mesmirised by your pieces. He even found a picture of you tucked between the last few pages of your notebook and he admired the small smile that you gave the camera.

“WONU!” Mingyu yelled from outside, making him slightly choke on water as he gargled.

“Food’s ready downstairs!”

“I’ll be out in a sec Mingyu.”

—

You fished out your phone from your pocket, turning the flashlight on to help you see the rusty stairs better. The sound of the stairs leading to the rooftop creaked slightly with every step you took.

“These steps are going to break one of these days,” you muttered to yourself, keeping the cup of coffee near your chest to warm you up. The weather didn’t co-operate with you tonight. You were forced to wear something warm by your bestfriend and he even made you wear a beanie to protect your head from the cold.

As soon as you got to the top, you pushed the door open with your frame. When the steel door finally opened, you quickly heard a loud thud when it hit something or someone as soon as it opened.

“Shit,” you heard a deep voice say from the other side.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” you began to apologise as you pulled the door shut to reveal the person that was standing behind it and to your surprise, you found the stranger from last night, clutching his arm tightly. You both gave each other a look of shock before bursting out into a fit of laughter.

“You again?” you both said at the same time.

“I guess I deserved that,” Wonwoo said, sitting back down on the ground. You gave him a guilty look before sitting beside him.

“I’m really sorry about your arm,” you said, poking it before sipping on your hot coffee. He quirked an eyebrow at you, “I’m surprised you’re not cursing me out right now.” You gave him another guilty look, blowing on your coffee and taking another sip to before answering him.

“That wasn’t me yesterday,” you said, giggling as Wonwoo rolled his eyes at you.

“I don’t even know your name,” you laughed.

“I remember you giving me a name last night though.”

“What?”

“Yeah, something along the lines of idiot,” he teased, watching as your eyes widened in surprise again.

“I’m so embarrassing,” you groaned, placing your coffee on the ground to cover your heating face with your hands. You heard Wonwoo laugh at your embarrassment, patting your back as you continued to mutter words to yourself.

“Don’t sweat about it y/n,” he giggled. Your ears perked up to the sound of your name leaving his lips, not remembering if you told him your name or not.

“How’d you know my name,” you asked, removing your hands away from your face. He gave you a shy smile before pulling your missing notebook out of his jacket. He waved it around before handing it back to you.

“You forgot this last night and I may have snooped around.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to..I was just really intrigued by your art. They’re all amazing by the way,” he complimented, rubbing the back of his neck while looking at you.

“Oh no, it’s absolutely okay. Thanks for bringing it back to me and thanks for the compliments,” you shyly replied, picking up your cup of coffee again. Comfortable silence enveloped you while you both looked at the bright moon. You suddenly remembered why you were up here.

“Shoot,” you whispered, fishing out your camera that was tucked carefully in your jacket.

“Do you mind if I do something for my photography class?” you glaced at Wonwoo.

“No go ahead,” he smiled.

Wonwoo watched as you brought the camera up to face, adjusting the lens before taking multiple shots of the night sky. Wonwoo would be lying if he didn’t think the view before him was mesmerising. He didn’t know why the beating of his heart fastened when you looked satisfied at the shots you took.

“Can I ask for your opinion...” you started.

“Wonwoo.”

“Right, so can I ask for your opinion on these pictures Wonwoo?” you shyly asked him, tucking piece of hair behind your ear.

“Let me see them,” he scooted closer to you, leaning down to look at the pictures.

And that’s how you and Wonwoo spent the rest of the night, chatting about your art, his course and anything that you and him could think of. You and Wonwoo didn’t realise it was past one in the morning until Seungkwan texted you to come home.

“Oh shit,” you muttered, quickly standing up and gathering your notebook and the empty cup of coffee in your hands. Wonwoo also stood up, taking his phone out before thrusting it in your direction.

“C-can I maybe have your number y/n? I’d really like to talk to you more,” he asked, his ears turning red at his own question. You nodded, taking his phone to put your number in his contacts.

“I’ll walk you back to your apartment if you want?” he offered.

“If it’s not too much to ask,” you replied, chucking the empty cup into the bed as soon as you got down from the rooftop.

“Let’s get you home then.”

—

You tapped your fingers on your thighs, waiting patiently for Wonwoo to come pick you up from your apartment. It had been four months since you and Wonwoo met on the rooftop. You both realised how much you complimented each other. It was nice that he got you to experience some of his hobbies while you taught him the things you were learning in your photography lectures. He was also patient with you whenever you were in one of your moods while you gave him the space he needed whenever he was having a hard time with things he would rather not tell you, yet.

Seungkwan and Mingyu even thought that you and him were good for each other. You were barely drinking now and even if you did, it was always with Wonwoo at the convenience store, talking about everything and anything your minds could think of.

You’ve grown to love Wonwoo’s company.

Woo 🐱: I’m outside your apartment bld ☺️

You: Be down in a sec 💕

You yelled out to Seungkwan that you were going, slipping your shoes on by the door before leaving your apartment with a big smile on your face. You and Wonwoo decided to visit the museum outside your university campus. You were excited to to find some inspiration for your upcoming art project and Wonwoo just wanted to spend time with you.

“Hey,” you walked over to Wonwoo, giving him a side hug.

“Do you think you’d be able to come with me to the recording studio after going to the museum?” he grabbed your elbow before crossing the street to get to the bus stop.

“Yeah, are you and Jihoon recording a new song?” you hummed, taking out your bus card when you saw the bus approaching.

“Yeah, it’s for our music theory class. Jihoon wanted to put some vocals on his new track so he asked me to be his partner.”

You’ve never heard Wonwoo sing but according to Mingyu and Soonyoung, he sounded angelic whenever he sung.

“Can’t wait,” you tapped your bus card, taking a seat at the back by the window. Wonwoo followed you, sitting beside and leaning his head on your shoulder. He yawned, closing his eyes and nuzzling his head against your shoulder.

“Tired?”

“Just a little bit,” he yawned again.

“I’ll wake you up when we’re near.”

—

You walked around the museum in silence with your notebook in hand, doodling some pieces that sparked your interest. Wonwoo, on the other hand, read each and every information that came along with the art pieces. You found it adorable when he would tilt his head as he focused on reading the information. He would look at you whenever you giggled at him, smiling and nudging you with his hip.

Your eyes landed on the final artwork in the museum, a grin making its way to your face. It was a simple artwork of the moon but the different shades of dark colours to mimic the sky made you more and more interested in the artwork. Wonwoo finally caught up to you and stood by your side.

“I..i think this is my favourite out of them all y/n,” he whispered beside you.

“Mine too.” You took out your notebook again, doodling on your notebook while Wonwoo watched you. You didn’t notice that Wonwoo took out his phone and backed away from you slightly. He tapped his phone to get his camera to focus on you, taking a picture of you as you doodled on your notebook.

“Beautiful,” he whispered quietly.

You looked up at Wonwoo, smiling brightly at him.

“I think I’m done ‘Woo,” you finally showed him your drawing, his eyes looking at the artwork.

“You’re so talented y/n!” He ruffled your hair before placing his arm around your shoulder. Wonwoo and you looked at the artwork for the last time.

“To the studio we go?”

“To the studio we go.”

—

“If you keep staring at Wonwoo like that, he might melt,” Mingyu sneaked up from behind you. You jolted in your seat, clutching your chest as you tried to calm your beating heart.

“Are you serious Kim Mingyu?”

“I didn’t realise you were this jumpy y/n.”

You threw a piece of crumpled paper at his face which he dodged, knocking the spare seat along the way. This caught the attention of a couple of people that were quietly sipping on their beverages in the coffee shop. Wonwoo watched you and Mingyu bicker while he took another coffee order. He chuckled softly when he saw you throw another piece of crumpled paper at Mingyu’s face.

While you and Mingyu were bickering about your apparent feelings for Wonwoo, both of you didn’t notice Wonwoo’s face drop when his ex-girlfriend entered the coffee shop. Mingyu finally looked up to find Wonwoo arguing with Jiyeon at the side of the coffee shop. Seungcheol who now took over Wonwoo’s shift, glanced at the younger male with worry evident on his face.

You didn’t notice what was happening until Mingyu tapped your shoulder.

“C-can you do me a favour y/n?”

You hummed in response, looking up to see Mingyu’s face. You dropped your pencil immediately and gave all your attention to Mingyu.

“I need you to pretend to be Wonwoo’s girlfriend like right now,” he blurted out.

“What the fuck?”

He nibbled on his lower lip before pointing his finger at Wonwoo who looked distressed as he talked to a girl you didn’t recognise.

“Who-”

“Wonwoo’s ex-girlfriend who cheated on him.”

With that piece of information, you stood up quickly and made your way towards Wonwoo. You looped your arms through his and placed your head on his arm.

“Baby,” you whined, catching both of their attention.

“I-”

“You have a girlfriend now Wonwon?” she sounded hurt as she looked you up and down.

Wonwoo cleared his throat, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him.

“Yeah, now please leave before my girlfriend makes a scene. And you wouldn’t like that. Trust me.”

You waved at her mockingly, grabbing Wonwoo’s hand and dragging him where you and Mingyu were sat at.

“I want the ground to swallow me whole,” you groaned when you and the boys watched Jiyeon disappear from the coffee shop.

“You owe ME Jeon!”

“How about a free kiss?” Mingyu suggested making you and Wonwoo glare at him.

“How about an explanation? Meet me at the rooftop at 8 tonight?” he glanced at the clock, realising that his break was nearly over.

“I’ll see you later,” he placed a quick peck on your forehead, leaving you and Mingyu by yourselves again.

“Forehead kisses, multiple dates and rooftop sessions? And you two still AREN’T dating?!”

“Oh fuck off Kim Mingyu.”

—

“So she fucking cheated on you and now she’s asking for you to take her back?”

Wonwoo nodded, eating another cheeseball that you bought for him before coming up to the rooftop.

“And are you going to?” you asked nervously, not knowing why your heart hurt at the thought of Wonwoo taking back Jiyeon. It’s not like there was anything going on between you two, you thought.

You saw him hesitate, swallowing another cheeseball.

“I kinda thought about it but no, I’m never going to take her back. I don’t want to go through the pain all over again.”

You sighed in relief, “Good.”

“Why? You scared I won’t spend as much time with you anymore?”

“To be honest, yeah.”

Wonwoo watched you shyly eat a piece of chicken, avoiding his eyes. He scooted closer to you until your arms were touching. He placed an arm around your waist and placed his head on top of yours.

“Never, sweetheart. You’re very special to me, you know,” he whispered softly.

“O-okay.”

—

You were gasping for air once you woke up from your dream. You saw the look of disappointment on his face again, making your heart clench with sadness all over again.

“Not again,” you cried, placing your covers over your mouth to muffle your cries. Your hands were shaking at this point and you knew you were having an episode again. You tried to breathe calmly but memories of your time with him kept appearing in your mind.

“F-fuck,” you reached out to grab your phone from the bedside table. You dialled Wonwoo’s number, placing the phone on your ear. After the fifth ring, Wonwoo picked up humming as you called out his name.

“H-help me,” you cried, tears streaming down your cheeks as you tried to tell him the passcode to your apartment door.

“I’m on my way sweetheart. Please breathe for me okay? I’ll be there in no time.”

Wonwoo arrived ten minutes later, panting when he finally entered your room. He rushed over to your bed and removed your covers so that he could take you in his arms.

“I’m here baby, i’m here,” he took you in his lap, and began to rock you body gently to soothe your cries.

“I’m right here,” he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, on your forehead and finally, on your cheek.

You gripped his shirt while you attempted to calm yourself down. You focused on his lips and then on his hushed voice.

“Woo,” you finally called out.

“I’m here y/n.”

“I’m s-sorry I called you here.”

“Don’t, you know I’ll always be here.”

—

After that night, you made it your job to avoid Wonwoo at all cost. You were embarrassed. You also realised how attached you’ve become to him. Seungkwan tried to get you to meet up with him and even Mingyu begged for you to stop avoiding Wonwoo.

“You’re leaving him in the dark y/n,” Seungkwan argued for the nth time. You sighed, leaning your canvas on the wall.

“I’m really busy Kwannie, can we not talk about this today?”

“Just admit that you’ve grown feelings for Wonwoo and you’re afraid that he might leave you!” Seungkwan blurted out. You dropped your paintbrush on the ground when Seungkwan snapped at you.

“I KNOW!” Seungkwan flinched as you yelled back at him.

“I’m scared I might lose him too but you can’t blame me for my own trauma Seungkwan! Now get out,” you picked up your brush again, turning your back away from him.

—

You knew you were dreaming. It had to be a dream because he was here. He was in your arms while you talked about your on going piece of artwork. Vernon leaned his head on your chest while he played with your fingers that were placed on his chest.

“I love you, you know that right?”

You gripped his fingers tightly in your hands, not wanting to let him go incase he disappeared like he always did whenever you had a dream about him.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything to save you, Vernon-”

“Shh, what happened to me was not your fault y/n,” he got up from where he was laying on your chest and took you in his lap.

“Nothing was your fault, okay?” he kissed your forehead.

“I shouldn’t have fought with you that day,” you mumbled, tears starting to stream down your cheeks. You gripped his shirt as he continued to whisper calming words into your ear.

“I want you to be happy. I’m at peace now, y/n.” Vernon kissed your cheek before he disappeared again.

You jolted awake, gasping for air again. Clutching your chest, you called out for Seungkwan who heard you since he was sweeping outside your door. He barged in with the sweeping brush in his hand.

“Vernon again?” You nodded, sniffling while you opened your arms for him.

“I know he’s watching over you y/n.”

You sobbed in his shirt, seeping the piece of clothing with your tears. Seungkwan’s heart broke when he continued to rub your back. He shook his head at how unfair the world could be. You didn’t deserve the heart ache of losing Vernon to a crash. You didn’t deserve to lose the man that was once the love of your life.

“What happened to Vernon wasn’t your fault, y/n.”

“I-i know,” you breathed out, “V-vernon told me it wasn’t. Seungkwan, he finally talked to me in my dreams.”

Seungkwan gave you a soft smile, soothing you with comforting words again.

“I know he’d love for you to be happy with Wonwoo.”

—

A month passed by when you saw Wonwoo again. It was only for a couple of minutes until him and Jihoon entered the studio. Despite only seeing him for a few minutes, you noticed the dark circles under his eyes and the smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes when he looked at you.

You clutched the canvas tighter against your chest as you made your way to the arts building to go into the studio to finally finish your painting that was going to be included in the exhibition a few days. When you entered the studio, you flicked the lights on and settled your canvas against the wall. You rolled your sleeves up and began to prepare your paints and paintbrushes that were going to finalise your artwork.

It took you 5 hours to complete your painting, your cheek and denim overalls sporting splotches of paint on them. You stood back and admired your work of art. You fished out your phone and captured a picture of your painting to send to Seungkwan.

While you were cleaning your brushes, your mind wandered back to a memory that inspired your artwork.

You and Wonwoo were walking home after spending hours on the rooftop. He urged you to go to the rooftop after he had a rough day. When you arrived at the rooftop, Wonwoo was already sitting on the ground with a can of beer clutched in his hand. He heard you but he didn’t bother turning around with how tired he was. You leaned down behind Wonwoo and wrapped your arms around him, placing your chin on his shoulder. You remembered Wonwoo spilling everything that went wrong that day while you hugged him tighter to calm him down.

After spending hours on the rooftop, he decided to walk you home. He was back to his normal self, nudging you with his hip as he teased you about hugging him on the rooftop for hours. You giggled when he tipsily laughed at a joke you told him. You reached for your phone that was in the back pocket of your jeans.

You quickly took a picture of Wonwoo while he laughed at another joke you told him.

“Hey! No fair,” he whined, chasing you down the empty streets of Seoul.

—

“Hey y/n, are you inviting Wonwoo to the exhibition?” Seungkwan chewed on a piece of gum while typing something on his phone.

“I already did.”

“What did he say?”

“Left me on read.”

“I’m sure he’ll come y/n,” Seungkwan reassured, squeezing your hand.

—

It was the day of the exhibition and you were walking around the hall to look at your other classmates’ paintings. You chatted to some of them and complimented them on their work while they gushed about yours. They loved the idea of your painting of the moon and a boy who was admiring the night sky. You thanked her, smiling at her art work again.

The event was coming to an end but you saw no sight of Wonwoo. Mingyu, Jihoon and even Soonyoung dropped by to see your work of art. The three of them admired your painting for awhile until it finally clicked in their minds who the boy was. They whipped their heads towards you at the same time, wearing matching smirks to tease you.

“Wonwoo huh?” Mingyu wiggled his eyebrows making you chuckle at him.

“Do you know if he’s coming?” you bit your lower lip, fiddling with your hands as you awaited for their answer.

The three boys looked at you with sympathetic smiles, “We’re not sure y/n.” They bid you goodbye after you chatted with them for a while, leaving you on your own again. Some people came up to you to ask you about your painting, asking what prompted you to paint the moon and a boy.

“Just someone special,” you smiled at the old lady.

The event came to an end at 8pm and your professor thanked all of you for presenting your paintings to the public. You were beyond tired when you grabbed your back from the staff room, wanting nothing more than to pick up some food from your favourite takeaway shop and watch reruns of your favourite show with Seungkwan.

You were the last person to leave the hall as your other classmates have already left while you were grabbing your belongings. You would be lying if you said that you weren’t disappointed that Wonwoo didn’t come to the event. However, you knew it was your fault for pushing him away when all he wanted was to be there for you.

You started walking away from the hall, halting once you heard a familiar voice calling out your name. You froze when you heard footsteps nearing you. He was here, you thought.

You turned around to see Wonwoo with a small bouquet of flowers in his hand. He smiled softly at you once he was in front of you. Wonwoo handed you the flowers and you gladly took them from his hand.

“I didn’t want to disturb you when you were talking to people so I decided not to come up to you and just admire your work from afar.”

“Did you like it?”

“I loved it y/n,” he stared at you, silence enveloping you both.

“Good, you were the inspiration for that painting,” you sheepishly revealed. He blushed at your words, tucking his hands behind the pockets of his jeans.

“How about I walk you back to your apartment?”

“I’d love that.”

You walked side by side in comfortable silence with only the noises of passing cars filling in the silence that enveloped you both. It was nice seeing Wonwoo again and you loved the new hair colour he was sporting now.

When you neared your apartment building, Wonwoo spotted the playground that he frequently passed by whenever he collected you from your apartment. He nudged your hip with his own, pointing at the swings nearby.

“Wanna chat for a bit?” You could only nod, following him as he led the way to the swings. You sat down on of the swings while he sat on the other, immediately pushing himself off. You watched in amusement as he got higher and higher, wanting to do the same. But you were too tired to even move your legs so you decided just to watch him goof off.

“Woo,” you called out.

He suddenly stopped, using his feet to stop himself from swinging any further. He turned towards you, raising his eyebrows to urge you to speak.

“I-i’m really sorry for avoiding you,” you started, fiddling with the flowers that laid on your lap.

“Wanna tell me why you did?”

You looked up at him, his eyes staring intently at you. You gulped, feeling nervous the more he looked at you with curious eyes.

“I didn’t want you to get to close..because I was afraid I’d lose you like I lost my ex-boyfriend,” you confessed, running your hand through your hair. You saw him furrow his eyebrows, probably confused as to why you were afraid of losing him when you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

“H-he died after a drunk driver knocked him over,” you whispered, “He was going home after we argued at my apartment and that was the last conversation we had before he died the same night.”

Wonwoo gasped softly, standing up and kneeling in front of you. He tilted your head up with his pointer finger to get you to look at him. You didn’t resist, wanting nothing more but to look at Wonwoo. Tears started to form in your eyes once they met his.

“I’m really sorry Woo,” you sobbed, pulling him into a hug. He hugged you tightly, both of you nuzzling your heads into each other’s necks. You and him stayed in that position until he his knee started aching.

“You gotta let go of me for a bit, baby, my knees are starting to ache.” With the mention of the term of endearment, your heartbeat quickened.

“Baby huh?” You asked, your eyebrow raised at him.

“Yeah, because you’re my baby now,” he teased, offering you his hand to take. You gladly accepted it, swinging it softly as you and him continued to walk to your apartment building.

“I’ve something for you to listen to before you go to sleep, baby,” he smiled. You turned your head towards him, seeing the faint blush that coloured his cheeks. “What is it?” you asked. “I already sent it to you, you just have to play it when you get home okay?” You nodded, wrapping your arms around his torso. You rested your chin against his chest while you both stood outside your apartment building. You didn’t want to let him go nor did he want to leave you just yet.

“Wanna go out on a date with me tomorrow?” he asked, leaning down to peck your forehead with his lips. You nodded again, placing the side of your head against his chest. “I’d love to.”

“No more running away okay?” You pinched his back lightly before nodding again to reassure him that you weren’t going anywhere again. Despite the fear of losing him in the future lingering in the back of your mind, you were only certain of one thing. You were completely and utterly in love with the man who pushed a steel door against your body that one strange night. He was someone that your heart was longing for and he was the one who helped you heal your heart piece by piece like you did with his.

#wonwoo fluff #wonwoo angst #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo oneshots #wonwoo x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen angst #svt imagines #svt fluff #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you

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wondernimbus · 4 years

Text

meet the weasleys — george weasley

pairing: george weasley x female!reader

summary: george takes reader to meet his family.

requests are closed for now. please refrain from plagiarizing my work!

"I’m nervous."

"Well, don't be."

"Thank you, George. That somehow just alleviated all of my worries."

George snickers and squeezes her hand in reassurance. “Just relax. My family doesn't bite—or, well, Ron used to, but that was back when he was, what, five? And besides, you already know him, and he's never bit you before, has he?"

"Not helping."

"And you've met most of my family already."

“I haven't met your mum. Or your dad. Or Bill and Charlie,” she argues, eyes worriedly darting from George’s own to the wooden door in front of them.

George laughs again. His eyes don’t fail to catch onto the way she’s frantically tapping her foot against the ground, how she keeps worrying at her bottom lip. The sight has him grinning widely; he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t horribly endeared.

“Listen,” he says, removing his fingers from her own in favor of turning her around to face him. George’s hands go to her neck, cradling the sides of her cheeks. “They’re going to love you. And if they don’t—well, I can always find a different family.”

”George,” she sighs.

”Only joking,” he grins, and leans in to press a very brief kiss to the tip of her nose. “But I mean it. They’ll adore you. Possibly even more than I do, although that’s up for debate.”

She lets out a long breath, pursing her lips together in a feeble attempt at a smile, but George commends her for trying. He drops his hands back to his sides and laces his fingers through her own again, turning to face the door like they’re about to venture into some sort of grand adventure and not into his family’s living room—and George is about to twist open the knob, until [Y/N] goes, “Wait.”

He glances at her. Her eyes are wide and the look on her face still so uncertain. Sucking in a breath through her teeth, she asks him, “How do I look?”

The grin on George’s face is so impossibly wide. “Like a billion galleons,” he tells her. Just because he can’t resist the urge, he swoops down to press one more chaste kiss to her lips. And then finally, he twists the knob.

The moment George steps foot through the door, he’s immediately enveloped by the wafting scent of something being cooked on the stove. It smells familiar, like he should know what it is, but George has never been much of a chef. But he recognizes the sounds—the voices—coming from the kitchen despite all of them mingling together to form one raucous chorus of chatter. He knows exactly which voice belongs to who—knows that the loud shriek is his mum reprimanding one of them, knows that the sound of someone whining is very likely Ron. That laugh is Bill’s, too, mingled with Fred’s voice. George just knows, automatically, without even having to think about it. George knows, too, without looking down on the “welcome” mat in front of the door, that there are going to be muddy boots on top it—and there they are. He steps around them. George knows that there is going to be a quilt magically knitting itself together on the couch without even having to look at it—and there it is.

And just like that, he knows he’s home.

Something about having [Y/N] in the vicinity of a place so important to him—a place that’s part of him—has his heart feeling full. He pauses for a moment in the doorway, taking it all in, but he’s snapped out of his brief spell of inexplicable happiness when his father comes lumbering out of the door leading to the kitchen.

“George!” his dad exclaims loudly, and just like that all chatter from the room behind him ceases (“They’re here?!” he hears his mother panic). “We didn’t hear you come in!”

”Likely because mum was too busy screaming,” George grins, and walks forward to envelop his father in a hug.

”Ah, yes—Fred arrived half an hour ago and terrified Ron out of his wits with some sort of fake—no, actually, nevermind that! This must be [Y/N].”

Arthur’s eyes have landed on her, and George actually has to give her a little nudge for her to say something. Her eyes widen like she’s surprised at being addressed (as though the entire point of this gathering hadn’t been to get to introduce her), but then her lips break out into a smile and she steps forward to shake his father’s outstretched hand.

”It’s really nice to meet you,” she says, eyes crinkling at the edges. George stands to the side watching the scene unfold, feeling oddly proud.

”Yes, of course!” Arthur nods with remarkable enthusiasm, smiling just as wide. “I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you! You’re Muggle-born, correct?”

She lets out a tinkling laugh. “Yes, that’s right.”

”Brilliant!” he claps his hands together—but George knows exactly where this is going, so he cuts his father off and says, “I think we can address the function of a rubber duck later over dinner, dad.”

Arthur pauses, seemingly dejected, but then gathers himself and nods. “Oh, right, well, I suppose—“

”[Y/N]!”

And there’s George’s mum, Molly, coming from the kitchen, hurriedly pulling off her oven mitts to rush straight towards [Y/N] and envelop her in a big, warm hug. “Oh!” [Y/N] exclaims, obviously taken a bit by surprise given that the two of them have never met before, but eventually she breaks out into light laughs and hugs her back. [Y/N] meets George’s gaze over Molly’s shoulder; he gives her this encouraging sort of smile, and then jokingly complains, ”Blimey. S’pose I’m not missed here anymore.”

”Oh, quiet, you!” Molly frets, waving a dismissive hand in the air (George laughs) and then pulling away from [Y/N] to grip her by the arms and gush, “You’re far prettier than I could have ever imagined!”

[Y/N] flushes a shade of vibrant pink. “Oh, no—but thank you—“

”Have you gotten your vision checked lately, [Y/N]?” It’s Fred, leaning on the kitchen doorframe with a toy snake dangling from his hand. “Or do you really want to be with Georgey despite his baffling similarities to a mountain troll?"

”We’re twins, you prat.” George smacks the back of Fred’s head.

“Ah, right.” Fred is grinning despite having received a blow to the head. “It’s lovely seeing you, future-sister-in-law.”

Fred and [Y/N] have known each other just as long as she and George have, having gone to Hogwarts at the same time all those years ago. All three of them had bonded over their mutual love for pranks, although [Y/N] had always been their babysitter of sorts—the one who made sure none of their jokes went too far out of line. George loved her for it; loved how considerate and gentle she was despite her undeniable mischief. But he’d only really gotten himself to tell her after the war; one brief visit of hers to the joke shop turned into two, and then three, and then suddenly [Y/N] was always hanging around somewhere in Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, helping the business run along. It was Fred who convinced George, only six months ago, to confess his admiration for her after five years of holding himself back.

After the war, George had all the time in the world to take as many risks as he could. So he told her—and now here they are: [Y/N] ruffling Fred’s hair fondly, George trying to fend off his mother’s hands trying to fix his hair (“don’t you think you need a haircut, sweetie?”), and Ron making his grand entrance from behind Fred.

”Ron!” [Y/N] exclaims, catching sight of him, and then jokingly she adds, “I haven’t seen you in ages—last time I saw you you were the size of a Pygmy Puff.”

Ron scoffs out a laugh. “You’re only two years older than me, you know,” he huffs, but lets her hug him, anyway.

Brief introductions are made as Bill and Charlie enter the room. George watches as [Y/N] shakes their hands—Charlie hugs her, as he’s always been big on affection—and just like that George knows that she’s won all of them over, the way she’d done to him. The way she still does to him, after all this time.

Five minutes later they're being ushered into the garden behind the Burrow, where a long wooden table has been set up. There are golden streamers draped all around the bushes and hanging from the branches of trees, but that's hardly what captures George and [Y/N]'s attention first because at the very end of the long table, a large banner is floating in mid-air: one that says "WELCOME TO THE FAMILY!" in glittering silver letters.

George doesn't miss the look on [Y/N]'s face when she sees this; her eyes almost seem to well up with tears, and despite the picture-perfect setting in front of him—despite the golden streamers and the balloons and the faerie lights hanging in mid-air—it's that look on [Y/N]'s face that has his breath catching in his throat and his heart doing odd little double-takes inside his chest.

He loves her, he realizes. It’s nothing new—shouldn't be anything new to him, as he's known it for quite a while now—but still there are moments like this one where he pauses and has to take a while to let it sink in; the fact that the woman next to him, whose smile reminds him of every single happy moment he has ever lived through, loves him just as much as he loves her.

Knowing that is absolutely surreal.

"We didn't expect you to arrive so early!" Molly says, obviously harried as she passes by them bearing a cauldron of steaming soup. “The cookies are still baking—and [Y/N], honey, I sent Ginny upstairs to go fetch your sweater, she should be down any time soon—Ron, Fred, will you stop that!”

The two, who had been wrestling with the toy snake Fred held in his hands earlier, immediately drop their hands to their sides. “T’was Fred who started it,” grumbles Ron.

”And I plan on ending it!” Fred emits some sort of war-cry, but stops when he spots the look on his mother’s face. “Kidding, mum.”

—

It takes a good half-hour or so before the last of the dishes are finally set on the table and everyone is seated. There’s food of all sorts in front of them—treacle tarts, cakes, pudding, pie—and [Y/N], who initially thought she’d feel too nervous to eat anything, eats with ease. Like everyone else around the table, she’s wearing a fuzzy red sweater with her initial sewn in front; a gift to her from Molly. The moment she’d laid eyes on it she knew it was her favorite thing in the entire world.

She tells this to George, who raises his eyebrows and replies snarkily, “I’m gonna have to ask for you to return the necklace I gave you, then.”

”Oh, sod off,” she laughs, rolling her eyes, but she lets him spoon pie into her mouth.

“Gah, get a room!” complains Fred.

”It’s not like they’re snogging,” says Charlie.

”Would you like us to?” grins George, earning him a slap to the shoulder from [Y/N].

”There are children here, George,” she scolds.

”You’re only two years older!” protests Ron.

No one really notices, but the sun has long since sunken below the horizon. Everyone around the table is immersed in chatter; Ron, for example, has been roped into a passionate debate with Fred and George about the true purpose of Pygmy Puffs. (“They only exist to ask for food and jump around and make annoying little noises!” says Ron, to which George responds with, “That sounds like you, Ron.”) [Y/N], meanwhile, is offering an explanation to Arthur about the rubber duck.

“They don’t do much of anything, really. They float and squirt and sometimes they make noises.”

But Arthur looks disappointed, as though he’d been expecting something much more grand. So [Y/N], not wanting to bring down his mood, decides to add, ”I believe they’re also used to keep—um—Grindylows away from your bathwater.”

Mr. Weasley positively beams with joy. “Is that right? I told you, Molly, rubber ducks are magnificent little things!”

Molly gives her husband an exasperated look, but it disappears the moment she turns to [Y/N]. “We’re so glad to have you here, sweetie,” she tells her, reaching over the table to grasp her hand and offering her the most motherly smile [Y/N] has ever seen. “We’ve heard so many good things about you. George speaks so very highly of you—and he was right, you really are perfect for him!"

[Y/N] flushes, smiling. “Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.”

”Oh, no, no, call me Molly,” she laughs, waving a hand in the air. “You’re part of the family now, dear. No need for formalities.”

And [Y/N] does feel like it—like she’s part of this table. This family. Not just the girlfriend of one of their sons but someone who actually belongs.

It’s odd, in a magical sort of way, how all of their random conversations blend together to form one harmonious burst of chatter, how everything and everyone in that table just works. Like puzzle pieces from different sets, she thinks to herself. And they shouldn't fit, but they do.

So this is home for George. This is the place he grew up in. This is where his heart lives.

She can't help the way her eyes stray to him every now and then, noting the sheer joy reflected in his eyes, the way the smile on his lips never really goes away. How, even when Ron flicks a strawberry at his face—even when George threatens to send a whole army of pygmy puffs after him—there's still that joyful glint in his eyes.

With the end of winter right around the corner, surrounded by the family that has welcomed her with open arms, holding the hand of her very favorite person underneath table, fireflies flitting around above them as laughter echoes around the table: [Y/N] feels safe. Happy.

So this is home.

—

The next morning, [Y/N] and George find themselves walking along the edge of the woods where meadow rues grow, a little ways away from the Burrow. They walk unhurried, the soles of their feet swishing against the blades of grass with each step, hands hanging loosely intertwined between them.

They’d woken up before anyone else, when the sun had just barely begun to rise. George had told her to "Get up, I want to take you somewhere" and admittedly she'd whined a little, claiming to need five more minutes of sleep, but George, laughing, threw her over his shoulder and threatened to carry her all the way there if she didn't oblige.

But now, she's glad she came with.

At one point she stops walking, lifts her face to the sky and closes her eyes against the warmth of the sun, taking a deep breath and soaking in everything that the morning wants to bring her. George watches her without question, a fond little smile already tugging on the edges of his lips without him even realizing. [Y/N] is beautiful in the sunlight—or any light at all, actually. George isn't entirely convinced someone like her—someone so breathtakingly beautiful and gentle and patient—would want someone like him. But when he tugs on her hand, turning her around to face him, and when he cups her jaw and guides her closer to press their mouths together, she lets him. She doesn't even think about it. Just melts into him like it's the only thing she knows how to do.

And then she pulls back slightly but stays close, runs a palm down the length of George’s arm and links their fingers together.

"It’s not much," he tells her, voice uncharacteristically quiet. A little unsure. "But it's home." Because, now that the excitement from yesterday has faded, George knows what his house could look like to someone who hasn't lived there all their life—knows that it looks messy, like pieces of it were thrown together haphazardly. It’s not a manor. Nothing like the kind of houses you see featured on Witch Weekly. He knows that [Y/N] isn't the type to care, but still—

"I love it," she pulls away, throwing her head back in an actual laugh—the kind that reminds George of everything good in the world. "I love this place, George. And your brothers and Ginny and your parents. Yesterday was.." she pauses, calming down a little, taking in a deep breath as she squeezes his hand in her own. "It was magical."

Quietly, with her eyes skittering away to look back at the Burrow behind them, she tells him, "I'm really happy, George."

George knows he'll remember this moment forever. The day is just beginning, and he is standing on the edge of a forest-line with a girl who looks at him like in spite of however many weird things he does, whatever dumb things he says, however embarrassing and difficult and painful some days might be, George is still worthy of being hers.

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warmblanketwhump · 3 years

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Idk if its too late to send this in but if it isn't, how about ⬤ and ✿?

✿: feeling so out of it, they need constant attention

⬤: being called soft things like baby, sweetheart or honey

(note: this MIGHT be cheating but my poor brain was stuck on ideas SO this is a part two to this prompt fill! would recommend reading that first for context, but pretty sure you can enjoy them independently :)

To any other person, the remote cabin would have looked like any old shack – slightly dilapidated, covered in moss, nested away among the trees. But to a lost, soaked, chilled-to-the-bone A, the cabin looks like a warm little slice of heaven, and it takes all they have not to run up the stairs. Instead, they slide an injured B off of their back and help them hobble to the small porch.

The pair limp across the threshold of the cabin and leave the pattering rain behind them, entering a small, spotlessly clean living room that smells of cedar and pine. A large, squashy-looking couch faces a dark fireplace with a tall stack of split logs nearby, and to the right of the doorway is a small kitchen. In the back, A spots a darkened bedroom, a tiny bathroom, and a linen closet. The cabin's rustic, so there's no electricity or hot water - just a single spigot and a gas stove for cooking.

They set a trembling B on the couch, pushing away the guilt of yelling at them earlier, of making them come out here in the first place.

“I’ll find us some towels and blankets. Can you start getting your wet clothes off?” Amid their violent shivers, B nods and starts shedding A’s raincoat and their own denim jacket with pruned, fumbling fingers. The sight nearly crushes A, but they know someone has to go find blankets to help them both get warm.

A pushes into the bathroom and locates several clean, threadbare towels, then heads to the linen closet. They nearly burst into happy tears when they see the large bundle of hideous plaid blankets and a couple piles of flannel and thermal clothing stacked neatly in the corner (forgotten by whoever rented it last, they guessed) and grab as much as their numb fingers can hold.

When they return to the couch, they find B in nearly the exact spot they left them - denim jacket off one arm, on the other, rain jacket fallen to the floor. They're hunched over, stiff with cold, arms crossed tightly.

“Oh sweetheart.…” A sighs, dropping the blankets on the couch and rushing to them.

“T-tried to ch-change. F-fingers won't-t work-k. I’m s-sorry-”

“B, you have nothing to be sorry about. I should’ve helped you in the first place.” A unthreads the soaked clothing from B’s shaking frame, gently patting their wet skin dry and lightly squeezing the water droplets out of their hair with a towel.

B’s eyes are bleary and unfocused, but they respond to A’s simple commands as they dress them in a pair of warm red flannel pants and a grey thermal long-sleeve. A casts a glance towards B's swollen ankle - it's not the worst injury they've ever seen, but it's definitely got to hurt. They dart back to the bathroom and locate a small first aid kit with a cloth bandage, and tenderly wrap up the sore ankle to immobilize it.

When they’re finished, they wrap B in two blankets: one around their legs and elevated ankle, and the other over their wet head and trembling shoulders. B sneezes, cinches the blanket tighter and groans.

“Look-k like a Russian p-peasant woman.” B grumbles, and A can’t help but let a chuckle escape. They really do look like a grandma, with only their face sticking out of the blanket cape.

“Alright, then, babushka. Let me get a fire started, and I’ll join you in a minute.”

Mercifully, it only takes a few minutes for A to get a roaring fire going. A drapes another blanket around B's shoulders and gives them a quick, reassuring rub.

“I’m gonna change, okay? You just worry about warming up.” B moans weakly and pulls the blanket over their nose, edging closer to the flame’s heat.

A peels off their wet clothing in the drafty bedroom, hurriedly drying their own cold skin and pulling on their own warm clothes - a cream thermal and blue flannel pants. The brief exposure makes them shiver, and they chafe their arms and legs to rub away the goosebumps and the damp chill that sinks into their marrow. For just a moment, they acknowledge how cold they are, too. God, they wish this place had hot water.

The adrenaline of the moment begins to fade, and several facts strike them at once. They were freezing. They were stuck in a remote cabin with no electricity for the weekend. This whole weekend was their idea - and all their fault. And they felt guilty as hell about it.

Squeezing their wet hair, they shove the intrusive thoughts from their mind and grab a blanket from the bed to wrap tightly around their own shoulders, along with a couple pillows from the bed for B.

On returning to the living room, they see B managed to hop on their one good leg over to the fire, leaving a trail of two of their other blankets behind. They’re huddled as close as possible to the warm glow, head resting on the hearth. A drops the pillows on the couch and kneels down, running their fingers through B’s damp hair, now exposed by the fallen blanket.

“Feeling any better, love?”

B gives a small, wan smile that fails to light up their peaked face and shakes their head, turning to cough. When they’ve finished, they shudder weakly, pulling the blanket tighter.

“Can’t shake the chill in my bones.” B coughs again. A can see them rubbing their arms under the blankets. “Heat’s bouncing right off me. And I ache all over, not just my ankle.” Another chill rattles their teeth, and they pull the blanket up to their chin. “I just can’t warm up at all.”

A pulls a shivery B into a hug, rubbing their shoulders and trying to share the little body heat they’ve created - unlike B, the fire’s warmth is beginning to thaw them out. In the dim firelight, A can see a sheen of sweat on B’s forehead, and alarm bells go off. Instinctively, A reaches out to press their cold hand to it. It’s warm now. Too warm for someone who just spent two hours trekking through the cold rain.

"Sweetheart, you're feverish. That’s why you’re achy and chilled.”

“S’pose it makes sense. I’m just freezing.” A gust of wind rattles the cabin, and a draft snakes its way into the living room, making B shudder and curl up even closer to A. “I’d kill for a hot shower right now.”

“Don’t go all ‘The Shining’ on me yet - we just got here.” A grabs a towel to try and further dry B’s damp hair. It was probably an old wives’ tale, but they didn’t have many options to keep a sick person comfortable out here, and wet hair couldn’t feel good.

B had complained about feeling a cold coming on a couple days ago, and mentioned that they might not want to go this weekend. A had made fun of them for it, joking about how someone like B never let a little cold get them down. And now, thanks to them, B was even sicker. They really were the worst friend in history.

“Do you think you could manage some tea?" A asks quietly. B closes their eyes and nods, laying their head back on the hearth.

 It takes a few minutes, but A manages to light the gas stove and locate a kettle, along with a dusty box of herbal tea tucked away in a cupboard. Whoever they had rented from had stocked it high with all kinds of canned soups and dry goods, so at least they’d be prepared for the long haul.

A sudden glance out the window reveals that the rain has turned into fat, white snowflakes, whirling in the sky and dusting the porch. A rubs their hands together, holding their chilled fingers as close to the stove flame as possible. The kettle whistles and A pours two cups, reveling in the warm steam that tickles their nose.

Once the tea is brewed, they make their way back to the fireplace. B's too weak to lift their own head, so A sits behind them and props them up, holding the teacup and helping them take small sips of the warm liquid. Once the cup is empty, A helps B lay their head back on the hearth before adding a few more logs to the fire and starting on their own tea.

Despite the warm fire, A can feel the ambient temperature of the room dropping. There's no way B's going to stay warm enough in the bedroom, so they’ll just have to make do out here for now.

After pushing the couch until it's just inches in front of the fire, A sweeps B into their arms and helps them back to the couch, easing them gently onto the pillows they've laid and tucking a blanket back around them. Even this close to the fire, the brief movement had set off another round of bone-shaking chills in B, and they grip their blanket so hard A’s afraid they’ll tear it.

“A?" B's voice is weak.

“I’m right here.”

“A, can you hold me? Please?” The desperation is palpable. B’s breathing is hoarse and they're close to tears, arms wrapped tightly around themselves. “Shivering hurts, but I can’t stop. I know you probably don’t want to get sick from me-”

A’s heart breaks. “Don’t be silly. Of course I’ll keep you warm.” They slide onto the couch and wrap their own blanket around the both of them, pulling B’s fevered body to their chest. B clings to their body, and A can feel the shakes that ripple through them. A gently massages their arms and back in slow circles and B presses closer, the vulnerability almost too much to bear.

Finally, A says what’s been eating away at them for hours. “B, I’m so sorry for what I said on the trail. I shouldn’t have said it, and I didn’t mean it. I do want you here. And now we’re here, and you're sick and hurt and it’s my fault, and I’m sorry for that too.” The apology comes out in such a rush, and B is quiet for so long in their arms that they doubt B even heard it.

But then they feel B’s trembling arms squeezing their waist. “Nature’s not your fault, A. Besides, if being taken care of is a part of your apology, it's warm and I'll take it."

A grips B even tighter, fighting back tears. “Whatever happens this weekend, I’ve got you. You know that, right?”

“‘Course I do. You always have,” B mumbles as they slip into a restless sleep. In front of the warm fire, A reasons that the drafty bedroom was probably too cold for anyone to sleep in. No, they were perfectly content to stay right here with B - and not even the promise of a warm shower could lure them away.

#this is a damn novel but whatev #I loved it too much to stop #sickfic #sickfic prompt #whump prompt #cold whump #cabin whump #shivering #flu #fever #blankets #hurt comfort #lost in the woods #this was so fun to write #literally sat on this the entire holiday weekend #edited this SO MANY TIMES #this is what happens when you adore a trope #my writing

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closedafterdark · 3 years

Text

First Love

LOOΠΔ Park Gowon x Male Reader

11538 words

categories: fluff, smut, oral, light! bdsm, holy water required

notes: @mintwithchoco 👀

Read on AFF

There’s a popular saying that you find love when you least expect it.

For some, it’s about timing. What may not work out now can in the future. For others - it’s finding the courage to tell the other person how you feel. Perhaps it may also be the person was right next to you all along; just waiting patiently. Whatever the case, the roads to one another will be connected so long as both people are willing to meet halfway.

The new school year is always an exciting time. New classes. Teachers. Classmates. Getting to wear a freshly ironed uniform after having had a restless night due to excitement. A blonde haired girl walks down a heavily populated hallway. The sounds of students greeting each other after an extended summer break. Girls chattering away about the concert they went to or the latest gossip about who is dating who. Others run down the hallway as one student throws a crumpled up piece of paper and attempts to make a fadeaway, failing miserably and earning laughter from his friends nearby and especially the person recording with his phone. She walks past several classrooms with a piece of paper in hand before finally stopping in front of a row of lockers. Looking down, she finds the locker assigned to her as well as the combination to open it. Turning the metallic dial left, right and counterclockwise left once more, the locker door unlocks.

She places her notebook and several textbooks inside the locker, letting out a sigh of a relief as the weight has been removed from her backpack. Taking a sticker from the inside pocket of the notebook, she puts it on the door of the locker. The bell above the locker area suddenly rings, startling her. It was now time for homeroom class. Having barely closed her locker, she is almost blown away by a sudden gust of wind as various students run through the hall and try to find their homeroom.

“Listen up everyone, we have a new student joining us. Introduce yourself.” the homeroom teacher said, staring at you. You approached the front of the classroom with heavy steps and slumped shoulders. All eyes were on you which simultaneously caused you to close yours. Some watching intently, others having facial expressions unable to be read. Breathing deeply, you opened your eyes and addressed everyone.

“Hello, I just moved here yesterday.”

“That’s it?” the teacher asked. You nodded, not wanting to say anything else.

“Well, okay then. It seems our class is pretty full.. Do we have any open seats?” She scanned the room. Most were already taken. As her eyes reach the final two rows near the windows, she finds an opening at the very back of the room.

“Ah, you can sit there.” she said, pointing to a seat next to a girl who was the only person to not look at you.

“Park Chaewon, raise your hand.”

You noticed a small hand being raised as the blonde girl who it belonged to refused to look you in the eye. With the teacher motioning you to your newly assigned seat, you heard the murmurs of students after each step you took. Most were girls giggling and having genuine interest in the new person in their class, while others looked like they could burn your skin from their intense stares.

“Good luck.” one student said to you as you approached the back of the classroom.

Removing your backpack and placing the straps on either side of the backrest, you looked to your right and saw the girl known as Chaewon. Your first impression of her was that she possessed an intimidating aura, seemingly not wanting to be bothered by anyone else in the classroom. Her large, round eyes remained focused at the whiteboard in front. Catching yourself staring at her for a bit too long, you were slightly concerned as she still had not blinked once. She was diligent, taking notes earnestly using a cute pink mechanical pencil with a bunny design on it. Her side profile was further enhanced by the sunlight coming from the windows next to you.

Lunchtime was something Park Chaewon looked forward to. Besides replenishing her energy and filling up her stomach, it provided relief from the awkward looks and gossip of other students. She was a loner at school by choice. Many referred to Chaewon as the blonde ice princess - mainly due to her cold expressions and staring at people eye to eye.

Today was a special day at the cafeteria: bulgogi, rice and various other side dishes. Despite having many desserts and pastries to offer most students sought out one - the coveted pillowy soft bread filled with chocolate hazelnut spread. Only offered twice a month, it is always made in limited quantities; no more than ten at a time.

Chaewon had the unfortunate misfortune of missing out on the delicious bread as something always prevented her from seizing one: whether it be a teacher in the hall stopping her to discuss how she felt about the latest test to being bumped by students running by and dropping all of her things. Just a few weeks ago, Chaewon was late to the cafeteria due to having to retake a missed exam.

But this time was different. She calculated down to the second all the events leading up to lunch. For two weeks, Chaewon made sure to get at least 8 hours of sleep, do homework in the library or immediately when she got home. She studied the material right after class ended in order to ensure it was drilled into her mind. Being an introvert and considered “antisocial” and “uncool” by the other students meant she didn’t have to worry about offending anyone’s feelings or waiting up for them. The restless tapping of her foot increased in volume and speed with each passing second in the classroom. She kept a hand clutching her stomach, hoping it would not make loud noises of hunger like it usually did at home. A slight sweat formed on her body as the teacher’s lecture about the different types of Japanese architecture fell on deaf ears.

“... and that is why the legendary Pokemon known as Ho-Oh left Ecruteak City and the Bell Tower after the Brass Tower was burned down. Make sure to do your assigned homework.”

The moment the teacher left the room, Chaewon ran out of the classroom’s back entrance. Taking a look at her wristwatch, her eyes watched the number of seconds constantly cycle through as she timed the distance between where she currently was and the cafeteria. Stepping out of the way of two students helping another gather their belongings and almost running into another student who emerged from a blind spot to the left of her, Chaewon continued running down the hall and each step of the staircase. Placing her hands on her knees, she was mere feet from the entrance to the cafeteria. Gathering the last bit of energy she could muster, she quickly walked inside.

Getting a tray, she grabbed a pair of chopsticks and a spoon. Thankfully with no one nearby, they weren’t able to hear her stomach growled in hunger. She took the metal container of rice and a large amount of bulgogi in stride. Continuing on with the radish soup and a small amount of seaweed and kimchi, it was now time for Chaewon to arrive at the final area before the cashier. With her eyes scanning all the delicious smelling baked goods, she found what she was finally looking for.

Only to find out the last one was just sold to the person in front of her. With a heavy heart, Chaewon sighed deeply and grabbed a similar looking bread filled with vanilla cream and placed it on her tray. After paying for her meal, she found a completely empty table on the corner most part of the cafeteria. Placing her tray down, she tosses the bulgogi around with her chopsticks before eating a spoonful of rice. She tried her best to not be discouraged, reassuring herself that at least there would be something to look forward to two weeks from now. As her eyes wandered and looked at other students laughing and having a good time with friends, she can’t help but feel sad at seeing the chocolate filled bread. Chaewon being deep in thought meant she wasn’t able to hear someone place their tray next to her. She looked down at her meal until her view was replaced with a still packaged bread. With her eyes widening slightly, she turned to her right and saw you extending out your arm. You nudge your hand holding the bread towards her once more, telling her to take it. Despite her hesitance, the excitement and slight amount of drool coming out of Chaewon’s mouth has reassured you that the right choice was made giving up the still warm pastry.

The two of you make eye contact and you give her a small, comforting smile. This causes her to smile back in return and gently take the bread. You and Chaewon eat in silence - with the occasional eye contact and smiles continuing to be exchanged.

You and Park Chaewon quickly became friends - a fact that neither of you knew was that you were now each other’s first friend. The two of you talking to each other earned a lot of stolen glances and whispers amongst classmates, but that too subsided over time. It became commonplace for the two of you to share meals together during school and after studying at the nearby food stands outside the front gates.

You helped bring the best out in each other: you learned the importance of being patient and to not let your emotions get the better of you. Chaewon gained self-confidence to stand up for herself and to properly voice her concerns should they arise. Both of you became well known in your classroom and the neighboring ones; mainly due to the occasional people who tried to bully or tease her soon learning why they shouldn’t mess with her - or anyone else for that matter. Chaewon gradually was able to overcome her shyness and make more friends, expanding both of your social outreach in the school.

Just as quickly as the school year began, it ended. For the most part it was largely uneventful. Except for the one older student who was able to go home early when he was chased by a swarm of angry bees which caused him to jump into the fountain in the middle of the campus courtyard. You and Chaewon continued to grow close as friends, becoming almost as inseparable as Ash and Pikachu.

Summer was a different story. You weren’t able to see Chaewon much due to a rather long family vacation that included a month overseas. While you were disappointed, Chaewon was even moreso. She didn’t tell you, but she spent the first week of summer break planning out a list of places and things to do with you.

“Hey I’m sorry Gwonnie, this came so unexpectedly. They never want to go anywhere, but I guess there’s a first time for everything. With how things are looking, I probably won’t be back until about a week before the new school year begins.” you said during a phone conversation with Chaewon.

“Oh no it’s fine…” Chaewon replied, trying and being unsuccessful with hiding the sadness in her voice. You didn’t want to disappoint her - she had spent the last few months excited about summer vacation and would ask you questions about your interests and what you would be willing to try.

“I’ll make sure to bring back some snacks and other souvenir goodies. How does that sound, best friend?”

The two of you warmed up to calling each other that - something Chaewon took very seriously. She brought up the term when you were both at a bubble tea cafe stating she never had a friend she could open up to and be herself. Until now.

“Tch, yeah okay.” she replied nonchalantly. “... and maybe some bread?”

The sounds of the opening bell and students running across the grassy football field and outside area signifies the beginning of another school year. Park Chaewon held onto the straps of her new mint green colored backpack, happily humming along to the song her headphones were currently playing. Being an upperclassman meant she finally got her own locker - something she has been looking forward to since she woke up. Removing one of the earbuds, she was able to hear what a few passing students were saying.

“Did you hear? She’s going to confess to the handsome oppa.”

“No way, are you serious? Let’s go check it out!”

Tilting her head in confusion, Chaewon shrugged her shoulders and continued walking down the long hallway. Distracted by the thought of something else, she passed by a small gathering of people without so much as a glance.

Various clusters of students watched as two people stood near the steps and between two rows of lockers. The familiar sounds of murmurs, whispers and a few students taking out their phones to record what was happening added to the anticipation. The girl shyly moved her foot back and forth as she looked down, unable to make eye contact with the person she was standing across from. With her left hand appearing to hold something behind her back, she used her right to tuck several bangs behind her ear. She was able to use that to muster up the courage and tilt her head up.

She is the epitome of a beautiful person: long luscious brown hair, bright big eyes, fair skin that almost represented the color of a block of tofu, and proportions that would make even a supermodel envious. Her nametag rested neatly above her coat’s pocket. Word spread quickly of the new junior’s beauty - with many waiting outside her classroom holding notes and various gifts. It was then known that she rejected them all kindly. At least, that’s what the rumor mill around the school said. So it comes as a surprise that she suddenly showed interest in someone, an upperclassman at that.

“I… I’ve liked you for a long time now, oppa.” she timidly said, presenting what she was holding behind her - a bouquet of red and white roses. Her cheeks blushed as she gathered up confidence and continued. “Will you go out with me?”

Her sudden confession earned cheers and applause from the audience. Several commented on how they didn’t expect her to be so bold on the first day of the school year. Some of the people who tried asking her out looked away in disappointment. But eventually all eyes were on you, awaiting your response.

Looking around - being the center of attention was something you actively tried to avoid. Your brain began processing the new information you were given and actively trying to find the best outcome to get yourself out of the current situation. You’d like to imagine that inside your mind were miniature versions of yourself working on a desk, stacks of paper on either side of your computer as you were busily typing away. Another version of yourself wearing a golf visor suddenly approaches.

“Just got an order from the boss. Dump everything that isn’t about how to reject someone!”

“Everything?” you asked yourself in confusion.

“Everything! Come on, let’s move it!”

With your visor self putting his hands on his hips, the entire department is thrown into chaos as the regular employee versions of yourself begin to run around frantically. Announcements of asking where the nearest shredder is could be heard as you held a giant stack of papers and began to run it through. Papers labeled as spice garden tips, top 5 bubble tea flavors, and what bread Park Chaewon liked were seen being destroyed.

“Come on, let’s get moving!” Visor you yelled as he approached another version of you who was standing in front of an open cabinet. “Hurry up, what do you think I’m paying you for?”

“You don’t pay me. We don’t even exist. We’re just a clever visual metaphor used to personify the abstract concept of thought.”

“One more crack like that and you’re out of here!” Visor you said as his momentary surprise turned into a frown of disappointment.

“No, please! I have three kids!” you begged.

A trashcan is then filled with a box labeled math while yet another version of you is shoveling piles of paper on the ground into an industrial furnace. You were slightly squeamish watching paper being slowly flushed down the toilet. The once well-oiled machine of your mind became a chaotic office full of flying paper and employees losing their sanity. Having the appearance of nothingness in your eyes and with your mouth slightly open, the girl brings you back to your senses.

“Well oppa, how do you feel?” she asked.

Thankfully for your mental well-being, your knight in shining armor appears in the form of a girl carrying a guitar with one strap and a chocolate-dipped peppero in another. Closing the locker door, she gathers the attention of you both.

“Wow, you’re outright flirting with him.”

“What?”

Using the peppero as a pointer she continued. “You’re wearing makeup even though it’s against school rules to do so. Your eyeliner isn’t even winged properly. Your hair is dyed which is again, also against the rules. You got him a bouquet of roses without even taking into consideration if he is allergic to them or not. And finally you’re wearing mint green colored socks. I just felt like bringing that up because I hate the color mint green.”

“Son Hyejoo…” the girl said, squinting as she reads the name tag. “Aren’t you from class 2? You guys are from game development so you wouldn’t understand how to have any social or relationship skills.” she smugly replied.

Hyejoo took the peppero out of her mouth and kept her neutral, slightly intimidating look. “What does being in game development have to do with social skills? Would you even approach him if he was just a normal guy?”

The girl smiled while grimacing and ignored her, looking at you instead. “So oppa, what do you say? Will you go out with me?”

“I thought about it and I don’t think I’ll have time to date you.” you said, putting your arm around Hyejoo’s shoulder. Hyejoo cheekily smiled as she twisted her lips to the right side of her face. “I’ll be busy with Hyejoo.”

The two of you looked at each other and smiled.

“I just look at her face and time flies.”

“Not in front of her.” Hyejoo pretends to be embarrassed and hits your shoulder slightly. You wrap your arm around her back and bring her closer to you. At this point, both of your faces are mere centimeters apart. Hyejoo becomes more bold and continues to lessen the distance until both of your noses are touching. She tilts her head and looks at the girl once more.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Do you want to watch us kiss?”

“Don’t mind her. Just focus on me.” you said, tucking strands of hair behind her ear. The two of you tilt your faces and are about to kiss as you hear the girl scoff and turn away. Both of you see her walking away before turning back once more and letting out another sigh of disapproval. With her leaving meant the crowd of people began to disperse - some disappointed she was rejected and many wondering who the person named Son Hyejoo is.

Once everyone was gone, Hyejoo hit your chest and pushed you away from her while you began to laugh. “Did you see that? I told you she was jealous. She only liked you because it would increase her popularity! That’s so gross.”

“Thanks for saving me though, I really appreciate it.” you said to Hyejoo, pinching her cheek. This causes her to rub the newly sensitive area before she crosses her arms.

“What are you going to do about all her fanboys coming after you?” Hyejoo asked. The thought never occurred to you that she was the most popular girl at school. Whether you accepted or rejected her confession, there was bound to be trouble headed your way. You weren’t given very long to ponder as you noticed someone walking through the now empty area.

“Park Chaewon!”

She turned her head and removed her left earbud. Chaewon was excited to finally see you after being apart the entire summer. Tossing and turning the entire night due to excitement, she began to approach you but stopped when she noticed Hyejoo standing next to you. The intimidating and chic aura she exuded could be felt as Chaewon rubbed her arms and shuddered. This was further supported by her being a few inches taller and the way the sunlight from the windows shined on her hair and created a ray of light surrounding Hyejoo.

“H-Hey.”

“How’s my best friend doing? Sorry I wasn’t able to hang out with you all summer. I promise I’ll make up for it starting today.” you said, bringing her in for a hug. Chaewon is caught off guard when her face suddenly meets your chest. She discreetly inhales your scent - lavender with a hint of jasmine. Not expecting feminine aromas to be lingering on you, Chaewon grabs onto your coat and releases what you could only describe as the cutest sneeze you have ever heard. Despite Hyejoo’s facial expression looking the same, you were certain she was surprised at what just happened. You laughed and patted Chaewon on her back.

“Oh by the way, I forgot to introduce you two. Chaewon, this is Son Hyejoo. A family friend and someone who has a very big staring problem.”

“I do not.” Hyejoo said, hitting your arm. “It’s nice to meet you. Oppa’s told me all about you, unnie.”

“Unnie?” Chaewon said, looking at you.

“Did I not mention that? Yeah, Hyejoo’s younger than you by a year.” you said, fixing Chaewon’s ribbon and straightening out her jacket. Satisfied with your work, you reach into your pocket and take out a hairpin before putting it on the side of her head.

“Hyejoo and I were planning on hanging out and playing video games after school. Do you want to join us?”

“Y-Yeah, sure.” Chaewon quietly replied.

“Great! We’ll all meet at the statue outside the front gate. See you at lunch, best friend.” you said to Chaewon before putting your arm around Hyejoo’s shoulders. You raised your hand and flashed a peace sign, showing a homemade bracelet on your wrist. Chaewon looked down at a similar one of her own - the two of you having made it in art class with your initials and the date you first met. She wasn’t sure how she felt other than disappointed seeing you be close with someone else. Chaewon continued to look on as you and Hyejoo walked away; able to faintly hear you asking Hyejoo what she wanted for lunch and her nudging your ribs with her elbow as she unsuccessfully tried to remove herself from your embrace while the two of you started laughing until you were no longer audible.

The walk from school to your house was awkward to say the least. Chaewon had her head down the entire time and simply responded with a few words whenever you tried beginning a conversation. Hyejoo on the other hand stared at Chaewon’s backpack the entire time - the only reason it being a mint green color. She has been very outspoken about her strong dislike for bubble tea and mint chocolate.

Entering the passcode triggers a catchy jingle, signaling the door being unlocked. As the three of you remove your shoes, you are the first to step foot inside the apartment. You place your backpack on a chair before turning around and see Chaewon appear uneasy.

“My parents are always busy working so I have the whole place to myself. Make yourselves at home.”

Chaewon looks at Hyejoo who quickly went to the kitchen before timidly taking her first steps - Hyejoo was a curious individual; scanning the entire inside of your refrigerator with a 360-like view while Chaewon bowed and apologized for intruding, despite no one else being home. The apartment was sleek and modern due to having been recently built. Your parents liked to consider themselves in the upper middle class of the income spectrum. While their principles were built upon the motto that hard work and being humble are essential to a successful person - it’s also nice to treat yourself once in a while.

“Seriously, you guys are out of banana milk?” Hyejoo asked you as she closed the refrigerator door shut and carried a bowl of cut up watermelon to the sofa.

“How could we not be when you drink two almost everyday. You really should cut down on it.” You said, sitting next to her and stealing a piece that was pierced with her fork. Hyejoo shot you a death glare while you smirked and pretended not to acknowledge her.

“It seems like you know your way around here.” Chaewon quietly said to Hyejoo.

“She lives next door so she’s been here everyday. Like a sister I never asked for.” you replied, rolling your eyes as you were met with a punch to the shoulder by Hyejoo.

“Are we going to keep talking or are we going to finally play some games?” Hyejoo asked as she held a controller. You grabbed the remote and instantly changed the television settings, all the while looking at her.

“Prepare to be destroyed, Son Hyejoo.”

You gave Chaewon a controller of her own before powering up the gaming console. It was white in design with a gray base on the bottom. The familiar light blue elongated oval began to glow as Hyejoo went through a cabinet and found the perfect game for you all to play.

“What did you choose?” you asked.

“Mario Kart. Didn’t really feel like playing Smash or Battle Revolution.”

“Are you sure? You always lost at the last leg of the course.”

Hyejoo looked at you as if you insulted her entire family lineage. Furrowing her eyebrows, she pouted before composing herself and stuck her tongue out slightly as her expression changed.

“I will defeat you and shred your cart all the way down to its last atom.”

While the two of you were going back and forth over who was the better gamer, Chaewon remained quiet. She felt out of place - she considered you her best friend and yet it seemed you had better chemistry with someone she just met. She wasn’t sure what to do until your question shook her out of her thoughts.

“What character do you want to play, best friend?”

“A-Anything is fine.”

“You should be Toad then. I think it really suits you. What about you, Professor Watermelon?”

“I told you I hate that nickname.” Hyejoo said. “It’s almost as bad as when you call me Olivia Hye.”

“Why? I think it’s great! Did you know that Olivia is a common English name that has its origin from the 13th century meaning olive? You agree with me right, best friend?” you asked as both you and Hyejoo turned to Chaewon.

“I-I think calling her Hyejoo is fine.”

“Man, you guys are no fun. Olivia Hye would make a perfect stage name!”

“Enough. I want to play already. I choose Yoshi.” Hyejoo said.

“I choose Metal Mario. What map are we going on?”

“Coconut Mall is the best one.”

The game is getting ready to begin and all three of you are getting into position. As the timer counts down on screen, you wipe the sweat from your hands onto your pants in anticipation. Hyejoo wastes no time and takes an early lead when the announcer states you can go. She navigates the course with ease, choosing the upper elevator. You are in pursuit using several Boost Pads to gain speed. The two of you are constantly taking the lead over one another, something that frustrates Hyejoo as she bites down on the lower part of her tongue.

While Hyejoo is busy collecting coins and several more Boost Pads, Chaewon is having difficulty navigating through the course. Her character Toad is a cute humanoid mushroom with a white cap and red polka dots. Currently in 12th place, the odds of Chaewon winning seem grim. She is a full four seconds behind the two of you. The race continues on and a Hyejoo victory is all but inevitable. With the last leg of the race being in the parking lot mall, she continues her commanding lead. Seeing Chaewon not having fun, you toss your controller and take hers, startling her. You begin the ascent from last place, passing your own vehicle and all others as Chaewon looks at you before focusing her attention on the television screen. Hyejoo smirks before realizing you were helping Chaewon catch up. Fourth place became third and pretty soon it was back to where it started - you and Hyejoo neck and neck as the finish line was in sight.

“I’m sorry, oppa.” is all Hyejoo says to you before you see a bright yellow banana peel being thrown on the road. With the momentum being built up and rendering you unable to stop, you run over it, causing your cart to spin out of control and crash. Hyejoo cheers while you hang your head in disappointment. Chaewon comforts you, patting your back softly as you look to her and smile.

“You’re buying dinner.” Hyejoo teased as she stuck her tongue out at you. Glaring your eyes at her in unapproval, you raised your hands up and admitted defeat.

“You chose that map because you knew you’d win!” you protested as Hyejoo crossed her arms and smirked in satisfaction. You turned to Chaewon who was grabbing your controllers and organizing them into one neat pile.

“What do you want to eat?” you asked.

“I… actually have to get going.” Chaewon replied.

“Already? But it’s a Friday night, there’s no school tomorrow.”

“I told my mom I would be home early. Thanks for having me over. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Wait, hold up. Let me get my jacket really quick and then I’ll walk you home.”

“No, it’s fine. I can get home by myself.” Chaewon quickly said as put on her shoes and bowed to you and Hyejoo before leaving.

“O-Okay.” you softly said as the tone of the door being locked rang through the apartment. You looked to Hyejoo who was busy scrolling through her phone.

“She’ll be okay, right?” you asked.

“She’ll be fine. She’s a big girl, she can take care of herself. What do you want to eat? I’m in the mood for some grilled bbq and kimchi, yum.” Hyejoo said, her eyes remaining glued to the phone screen.

“Seriously? When aren’t you hungry? Just get me whatever you’re having.”

Still worried about Chaewon, you pondered calling her and staying on the line until she got home. Your phone then started ringing.

“Hey, are you home already? That was quick.” you cheerfully said.

“O-Oppa…”

“Chaewon, what’s wrong?”

“C-Can you stay on the phone with me? I think someone’s following me.”

You quickly got up, startling Hyejoo. Your face became serious as you began to process what Chaewon was saying.

“Where are you?”

“I-I don’t know. There’s a-an alley and the light looks like it’s about to die out. Please hurry oppa, I’m really scared.”

“Just use your phone’s flashlight and talk to me like you’re talking to a parent. I’ll be there soon.”

You went to your room to put on a jacket and mask as Hyejoo peeked her head from above the sofa.

“Where are you going?”

“Watch the place while I’m gone. And order some extra food while you’re at it.” you said, stumbling as you struggled to put on your shoes and leave the apartment. Once out on the sidewalk, you looked everywhere frantically about where to begin looking for Chaewon.

“What route did you take from my place?”

“Yeah mom, we go down to Jeju every year. You like seeing the waterfall and cave, remember?”

South. With a clear direction in mind, you set off to find her. The early evening as some would call it meant a busy night scene. Restaurants open until the middle of the night, bright neon fluorescent signs that are like a signal to summon rowdy patrons to gather and exchange in alcohol and grilled meats. You passed by various couples enjoying a date or a group of friends looking to unwind after a stressful work week. Unsure of where to go next, you continued questioning Chaewon.

“What do you see near you?”

“Mom, do you remember when you got me those cute stickers from the vending machine and I used to put them on everything. Or how we used to buy Cheetos from the convenience store and walk home together? I miss those days.”

You were determined to find her, even if your legs gave out. Taking a sharp left turn and a subsequent right while almost getting hit by a car who honked their horn at you, you finally found her. Looking around nearby to find the suspicious person, there wasn’t anyone else in sight as you brought Chaewon into a hug. You took off your mask, watching as the chilly night air gave form to your heavy breathing. Chaewon’s eyes began to water as she started crying into your clothes. You brought her closer to you and gently stroked the back of her head.

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re safe now.”

The two of you help calm each other down before you release her from your embrace. Chaewon looks up and sees you smile before your expression changes.

“Why did you go home by yourself? I told you I’d walk you home!” you yelled, scaring her.

“Our places aren’t that far apart. I thought it would be fine.” she said quietly.

“Next time, Hyejoo or I are going to walk you home and that’s that.” you said, crossing your arms and regaining your composure.

“Why? You spent the entire day talking to Hyejoo more than me.”

“Why? Because I care about you, that’s why!”

8:02 AM. It’s a morning unlike any other as Detective-in-training Park Chaewon takes her seat in the briefing room. Having spent three years as a beat cop, she was excited to finally get hands on experience and advance up the promotional ladder.

“Happy Tactical Village Day!” a woman said to each person in the room, high fiving them in the process. She was extremely bright and cheerful, possessing a smile that could melt away anyone’s troubles. She turned to Chaewon and raised her hand, earning a soft hi-touch in response.

“Jung Jinsol, I’m surprised to see you so excited about departmentally mandated training exercises.” Captain Jo Haseul said, simultaneously addressing the woman along with the rest of the people in the briefing room.

“It’s the most fun day of the year!” Jinsol said, beaming. “Something you wouldn’t understand because you’re not programmed to feel joy.”

“Yes… But, my software is due for an exuberance upgrade.”

Jinsol folded her lips into her mouth and covered it with her hand. Others nearby tried their best to suppress their snickers as the captain continued.

“Pick a partner and stick with them. This is a team building exercise - I don’t mind you all having fun, but be responsible. Make sure to be on your best behavior and show everyone why Blockberry Precinct is the best precinct in our area. Dismissed.”

“Want to be partners?” Jinsol said, turning to Chaewon and batting her eyes repeatedly.

“I guess…” she replied. “But I too am due for an exuberance upgrade.”

One extremely long bus ride later, the squad arrived at the site of the training exercise. Various other precincts were also in attendance as Chaewon admired the building. It was rather dated and had seen better days, but she didn’t care. She was thankful to finally be given a chance to prove herself.

“I can’t wait for this to be over.” Jinsol whined.

“What? You were going on and on about how excited you were to be here. What happened?”

“I don’t actually look forward to being here. I enjoy getting the free souvenir bags and food they serve after. The meat melts in your mouth.” Jinsol explained as a small amount of drool began to seep out of the corner of her lips.

Shaking her head, Chaewon opened a duffel bag given to her by the event organizers and began going through the checklist to make sure everything was accounted for. As she fixes her safety glasses, she hears a familiar voice.

“Park Chaewon?”

It was a voice she knew all too well. But she didn’t want to believe it was real. Someone who was once an important part of her life. Sighing, she turned around - a slight hope that her premonition wouldn’t be true. But her instincts never failed her before, so why would they now.

“H-Hi, oppa.”

“It’s been a long time.” you cheerfully said as you awkwardly pulled her in for a hug. Chaewon raised her hands to reciprocate but stopped halfway. The two of you stayed like that for several seconds before separating.

“Hyejoo, you’re here too.” Chaewon said.

“You don’t sound excited to see me.” Hyejoo coolly replied before tilting her head sideways and also giving Chaewon a hug. This time, Chaewon really did not know what to do and repeated the same lifeless motion she did with you.

“Small world, I really didn’t expect to see you here.” you said.

“Me neither…” Chaewon said as her voice still remained at its extremely low volume.

“Happy Tactical Village Day!” Jinsol announced to you and Hyejoo, her warm and inviting smile breaking the tension.

“I’ve heard of you, Jung Jinsol right? The famous rookie who managed to talk down the Treble Clef robber by doing a duet and singing in the rain?” you said, extending out your hand to shake Jinsol’s, only to be met with her high fiving you.

“That’s me! He wanted to send a love letter to his dearly beloved by writing, err, more like carving musical notes onto his victims. I didn’t know other precincts knew about me!” She said excitedly.

“I guess you guys are competing in the tag team free for all? Good luck.” you said, focusing your attention back to Chaewon. Her eyes briefly met yours, causing her to look away. With a slight tint of red on her cheeks, she felt the temperature in the room drop slightly only to see Hyejoo pass by.

“ Son Hyejoo, wait up! I’ll see you guys out on the field!” you said, waving to Chaewon and Jinsol as you ran to catch up to your dark haired partner.

“Everyone, listen up. There are ten hostages and thirty perps. Your mission is to safely rescue the hostages while eliminating the perps. Be careful as some of them could be disguised as civilians. The training exercise ends in two hours. Begin.”

Park Chaewon points her modified paintball gun at an empty room as her specialized glasses relay create a personal heads-up display displaying all of the information needed. She scanned the room for any clues but was disappointed to find out it was simply empty.

“Clear.” she relayed through an in-ear piece.

“I’m hungry. I knew we should’ve eaten more before this. I'm hungry, don’t want to gain weight.” Jinsol whined as Chaewon slowly walked through a hallway and entered another room.

“Seriously, unnie? It hasn’t even been thirty minutes since we last ate.”

“You call three pieces of carrot and some cashews eating? I can’t believe it took you twenty minutes to eat those by the way.”

“Focus. Is there anything on your end?”

“No, room two is clear also. What do you think about getting crepes?”

“You talk about not wanting to gain weight but want to eat crepes?” Chaewon asked.

“But have you tried Nutella crepes with banana slices? They are to die for.”

“I’m not going to cook them for you, unnie.” “I wasn’t expecting you to. Especially since the last time you were in the kitchen, the precinct almost got burnt down. I mean really, who puts a cake from the bakery with the metal tin still attached and reheats it for forty minutes? We had to air out every floor and it still wasn’t enough.”

“Not to mention the Captain calling me Chaewon Ramsay.” Chaewon whined.

“I remember that.” Jinsol said, laughing loudly into Chaewon’s ear, causing her to flinch. “You want to talk about where the lamb sauce is, it surely wasn’t in the Blockberry Precinct’s now defunct microwave.”

“One last room.” Chaewon replied, focusing her attention back onto the mission. “I’ll see you there.” Navigating through the almost endless hallway, Chaewon makes a left and looks up to see sets of stairs that could almost reach the sky. With a deep breath, she begins to climb. The first ten sets provided little difficulty, but as she continued on, Chaewon felt herself growing fatigued. The sign indicating what floor she was currently on began to increase in number. She was certain she climbed 99 floors - but in actuality it was probably twenty. Dragging herself up the final ten steps, she leaned against the wall only to see another pair of shoes standing next to her. Looking up she finds Jinsol, still possessing her patented warm smile.

“H-How did you get here…” Chaewon blurted out, swallowing her own saliva as she felt her mouth be dehydrated.

“You know there was an elevator, right?”

The two women point their guns in the air, looking at each other before entering the open final room. Their glasses showed no signs of life - but as the two go deeper inside, Chaewon finds the outline of a woman on the ground. Using two fingers, she looks to Jinsol and tells her for both of them to go straight ahead. Entering another room, they find Son Hyejoo on the ground with her hands tied behind her back and a bandana around her mouth.

Chaewon quickly rushes to her and helps her up while Jinsol removes the pieces of cloth. Hyejoo looks at her before pulling her in for a tight hug. Chaewon pats her back as the two embrace each other.

“Unnie’s here. It’s okay, Hyejoo.”

“Thank goodness you’re here. One of the civilians went off script and decided they wanted to be a perp.”

“Really? That’s pretty strange. I thought most of the people labeled as civilians don’t really care what role they got.” Jinsol said.

“I guess not.” Hyejoo replied. “I was trailing them but got caught here.”

“Let’s go find them then and win this thing.” Chaewon said, standing up and extending her hand out to help Hyejoo. As she is about to take it, someone else enters the room.

“Hey Hyejoo, why did you ask that guy if you two could trade-”

A whirl of blue paint passes by Chaewon followed by a grunt as she and Jinsol turn around to see you, having been shot by your own partner. You looked down at the giant blue stain on your vest as the pain began to gather at where you were targeted. With everyone still in a state of shock, Jinsol reaches for her gun but is shot too. Chaewon’s gun is still in her hand but knows she is unable to do anything.

“I’m sorry, unnie.” Son Hyejoo said as Chaewon herself is eliminated, thus ending the training exercise. It felt eerily similar to when the three of you played Mario Kart and Hyejoo betrayed you both. The same mischievousness seems to have not been lost with time.

After a fresh change of clothes, the four of you gathered outside the training facility. Chaewon was no longer a blonde, though a fair amount of it could still be seen through her now darker color. She wore a slightly see through black dress with various jewels that adorned it, showing the faintest amount of cleavage. It was a blend of tasteful and awe inspiring. Her grey colored contacts and bright red lipstick were the key points that stood out to you.

“You guys want to grab a drink? I know a pretty cozy spot nearby here.” you said to the group.

“I uh… just realized I can’t. I… gotta go meet my boyfriend.” Jinsol said, winking at Chaewon before bowing to you and Hyejoo. Chaewon tried preventing her from leaving but was unsuccessful at stopping her.

“What do you say? We’re one person down, but that doesn't mean we can’t catch up like old times.”

Chaewon looked at you both and smiled nervously.

The bar you brought up had seen better days. The decor was dated with wooden tables and various sized bar stools spread out. Various neon signs were burned out, with a sign that said ‘Quality Drinks Here’ having been reduced to ‘Quality Drinks Her’. Despite all this, it seemed to still have regular customers as well as a wall adorned with alcohol bottles.

“This place is such a dump, why did you choose it?” Hyejoo asked.

The reason why presented itself. An attractive woman tending the bar was always a sure fire way to get customers to come in, and you were no different. Her long light brown hair with blonde highlights ended past her stomach. Saying she was easy on the eyes was an understatement. The mole on her right cheek and near her left eye were accentuated by her winged eyeliner and pink eyeshadow. Her fair skin only helped in bringing out her beauty even more.

“Hey there.” she said, her deep voice unexpected compared to her appearance. “Haven’t seen you in awhile.”

“Work’s been keeping me busy. How are things?”

“Same old. Drunk old guys drinking away their problems and ignoring their wives calling them. Creeps trying to hit on me and ask for my number. So you know. The usual. I see you’ve brought company.” She said as she wiped down the counter and placed coasters in front of the three of you.

“Yeah. They’re old friends of mine. This is Park Chaewon.” you said, introducing her to your left. “While the creature on the right here is called Son Hyejoo.” This introduction earned you a punch to the arm from Hyejoo as the bartender laughed softly.

“You two are certainly pretty.” she said as she grabbed a few bottles from the wall to replace the ones in front of her. She then grabbed a packet of straws and placed them under her side of the bar.

“What can I get you guys tonight?”

“I’ll take a beer. Something smooth. And dark. What about you guys?”

As Chaewon pondered what to order, Hyejoo instantly knew what she wanted.

“I’ll take sex on the beach. Make it really dirty.”

“A fine choice. We don’t really get requests for that much.” the bartender said with a smile. “And for you?”

“A virgin Cuba libre…”

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that one more time? I couldn’t hear you.” she said, placing her index finger behind her ear and leaning closer.

“I wanted a virgin Cuba libre…”

“Isn’t that just a cup of cola with ice and a lemon wedge?” you asked.

“Nothing wrong with that at all.” the bartender said, scolding you. “Don’t mind him. Your drinks are coming right up.

The bartender quickly got to work, making a show of tossing bottles into the air and grabbing them successfully while pouring exact measurements into a metal container and making sure they were shaken, not stirred. She finished Hyejoo’s drink in record time, placing it on the coaster with a paper umbrella as a decoration. Reaching into the mini fridge behind her, she grabbed a dark amber colored bottle of beer and popped open the cap for you. With Chaewon’s drink, she placed a rocks glass on the coaster; using a pair of plastic tongs to put three ice cubes and adding the carbonated beverage. Slicing a lime wedge, she wiped the rim of the glass with it before squeezing several drops into the drink.

“Hope you all enjoy it.” she said before tending to other customers.

Hyejoo wafted the scent of her drink into her mouth before taking a sip. The liquid was slightly bitter, but not something she couldn’t handle. She bit on the lime wedge and puckered her lips.

“Not bad… I see why you come here. She’s cute.”

“That’s not the only reason why I come here, Hyejoo.”

“Why else would any other guy be here if there wasn’t a smoking hot bartender?”

“The quality of the drinks has improved ever since she started working.”

Hyejoo rolled her eyes as she removed the paper umbrella and continued to drink. You turned to Chaewon who swirled her drink around.

“How’s yours?” you asked.

“It’s fine.” she quietly replied.

“So, how have you been? Hyejoo and I lost contact with you after you dropped out a month before graduation.”

“I’ve been okay.. Hoping I finally get promoted to detective.” Chaewon said.

“I believe in you. You were always great at whatever you did.” you said, smiling softly at her. “And hey look at this.”

Chaewon turned her attention from her drink to you to see your wrist still adorning the bracelet the two of you made all those years ago. A sudden wave of emotions washed over her. She knew she had to excuse herself immediately.

“I… gotta go.” Chaewon said as she suddenly left the bar.

“You know she likes you, right?” Hyejoo said, getting your attention.

“What? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I could see it in her eyes from the moment I met her. She’s liked you as more than just a friend. And you are too dense to admit the same.”

“I like Chaewon as a friend, Hyejoo.”

“Friends don’t make bracelets together with their initials and the date they met unless they’re girls or a couple. They certainly don’t drop everything and try to find someone in the middle of the night. Plus, while your actions make it seem like all your attention is on me, I know Chaewon is in your heart. The question is, are you going to stop lying to yourself and chase the one who got away?”

Your entire past with Chaewon is replayed in your mind as you think about her smile and the way she made you feel.

“I think I just figured something out. I gotta go.” you said to Hyejoo.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Uhh…” you looked around and approached Hyejoo slowly before kissing her forehead and exiting the bar.

“No… pay your bill! Who raised you?” she said to herself as she swirled her drink around and took another sip.

“Why didn’t you tell him how you feel?” the bartender suddenly asked as she approached Hyejoo.

“He only sees her. I missed my chance years ago.”

You stood outside the bar and found Chaewon sitting on a nearby bench. It was rather high, causing her feet to not touch the ground. She kicked the air repeatedly, unaware of your presence. You crossed your arms and admired her for a bit before sitting down.

“I’m not dating Hyejoo. I never did.”

“I didn’t say anything…” she said quietly.

“But you were thinking about it. Hyejoo’s just a close friend. Something you used to be as well.”

The two of you sat in silence and admired the night sky. Even through a busy metropolitan city, the stars were still able to be seen.

“I can’t live without you.”

Chaewon looked at you to see you still watching the stars, pointing at a few of them as you smiled.

“Without you, whether it be a month or a day, the time I spend becomes meaningless to me. This was the conclusion I came to when I saw you again at the training exercise today. I’m sure you don’t understand what I’m talking about, though…”

Chaewon continued to look at you, not saying anything. You were embarrassed at what you just said and began to look away. She however, held your face and stared into your eyes before bringing you closer to her and planting a tender kiss on the lips. You opened your eyes and saw the same smile she had when you shared the special bread with her in the cafeteria.

One quick taxi ride later, Chaewon was about to enter your apartment for the very first time. The two of you stumbled into your apartment, laughing the entire time. From an outsider point of view, they probably would’ve thought you were both drunk. And to an extent, they were right. You two were drunk off each other.

Only your coats made it onto the couch as a discarded pile of clothes traced your steps into the bedroom. She led you to your bed, with you reduced to only wearing your boxers. Chaewon looked nervous, something you picked up on right away.

“We don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable with it.”

“N-No. I want this. I want you, oppa.”

Chaewon gave you a quick peck before sinking onto her knees in front of you. She was met with your boxers pitching a tent. Grabbing the top hem, she slowly pulled them down. Your cock throbbed once newly exposed to the cool air, almost hitting her in the face.

She looked at your cock curiously. You felt her slim fingers wrap themselves around your base into a fist. She gave a slightly firm squeeze, causing you to moan. She began with slow strokes, seemingly preparing you for what was to come. She noticed you beginning to leak, running her thumb through it and earning herself a breathless gasp from you in the process. She brought it close to her nose and sniffed it. You laughed as she continued. The juxtaposition of Chaewon’s large eyes and innocent features contrasting her sinful action was a sight to behold.

“I’ve never done this before, oppa. Is it supposed to take this long?”

“For what? For me to cum?” you asked. Chaewon nodded.

“I… actually released a load in the shower after the training exercise.” you embarrassingly admitted.

Chaewon nodded in genuine interest as she continued pumping your shaft in her small hand. You threw your head back in satisfaction as you weren’t aware you were using her fist as a sort of fleshlight. Her grip increased as she began to stroke you faster.

“M-Maybe you could put it in your mouth?” you asked, scared Chaewon would say no.

“I just… have never done it before.”

“That’s okay. I’ll help guide you. I guess you could start with licking the precum that’s leaking out.”

Chaewon did as she was told, flattening her tongue and swiping the colorless liquid from you. She repeated this several times, causing the head of your cock to be wet. You didn’t tell her, but she spit on your dick and began to spread it all over with her hand and also by puckering her lips. It surprised you that she knew how to do that for claiming to have never given a blowjob before. But then again, it wouldn’t be difficult to know given everything is one simple internet click away. Your cock was beginning to be covered in Chaewon’s saliva as she meticulously applied it all over.

“Maybe you could massage my balls too? They’re sensitive so you have to be really careful.”

With her right hand stroking and lathering you, her left fondled your balls. The stimulation from both of your hands felt amazing, it caused the baby hairs on your body to stand erect while sending electric jolts of pleasure to your spine.

Chaewon seemed to be getting the hang of things, but now was the real test. She gave the underside of your shaft one smooth continuous lick until she found her way to your tip. Wetting her own lips, she grabbed onto both of your thighs and finally took you inside your mouth. You held your breath as you felt her wrapping her lips around the tip of your cock. A moan of satisfaction was released as her soft lips began to work their magic.

While you were sure she was telling the truth about not having done it before, it seemed Chaewon had been practicing somehow as she was constantly trying to keep her teeth out of the way and hurting you.

“Fuck... princess, that feels so good…”

Chaewon began extending past your tip, adding an inch into her mouth as she hollowed her cheeks. Her soft lips felt like heaven as she slowly became a soft ball of hair taking more and more of your length. It was moot at this point to continue instructing her - Chaewon flattened her tongue again and you felt it coating the underside of your shaft, sending even more pleasure coursing through your body. You closed your eyes and savored the wonderful sounds of Chaewon slurping on your dick, thoroughly covering you in her saliva. You felt her nose reach your base a few times, with her releasing you from the warm confines of her mouth after she gagged and was unable to continue. Your cock glistened as a saliva bubble formed just below where the tip and shaft connected. Thin strands of saliva connected you and Chaewon together as she sliced through them and giggled.

“That was amazing.” you said. As much as you loved having her in between your legs, you were ready for the main event. You helped her off her knees and gently pushed her onto the bed.

It seemed the years were kind to Chaewon - she was the perfect mix of toned, while possessed a hint of curviness. Her thighs were deceptively thick; and soft to the touch as you spread them open. You began by feeling how smooth they were before planting several kisses on them. You made a trail that slowly ascended, doing so on both of them before kissing the inner creases of the apex of her thighs. She was already sensitive, her body reacting to every contact from your lips. Like you, Chaewon also began to leak out as you stuck your tongue out to consume it. The taste was like sweet nectar, something you were happy she was releasing for you.

“F-Fuck, that feels so good…”

It was the first time you heard Chaewon curse, and with what was next, you knew it was only the beginning. You parted her damp folds with your thumbs and lowered your head to begin exploring her moist cavern. Chaewon’s body bucked upwards from the pleasure as your tongue continued to excavate the sweet nectar she possessed. You gently bit on her clit, causing her to scream in arousal as her thighs wrapped themselves around your head and pushed you deeper.

Her eyes became half-lidded and consumed by desire as you continuously lapped up her juices while stimulating her folds.

“O-Oppa, keep going. Please… don’t stop!”

It was beginning to be a bit difficult to breathe, but you were happy knowing Chaewon was on the receiving end of pleasure. You traced two fingers against her inner folds before sinking them inside her. She was extremely tight - her walls immediately latching onto and squeezing you. Your thumb remained outside, rubbing her clit as you repeatedly moved your fingers in and out of her pussy. It didn’t take long for Chaewon to achieve her euphoric bliss.

“Oppa!” she screamed loudly as it finally arrived. Removing your fingers just in time, you parted your lips and stuck your tongue out as her hips frantically raised upwards while thighs squeezed your head even harder. You could feel her toes curl as Chaewon’s orgasm caused her entire body to react. Her sweet essence coated your mouth and cheeks as she drowned you in pleasure.

You tried your best to consume it all but it proved to be too much as Chaewon continuously released her lovely juices. Violent aftershocks continued on as you helped her begin to descend from her orgasmic high. You rubbed her sensitive clit and stimulated her until you could feel her thighs hold on your head begin to weaken.

“You did so well, princess.” you said, smiling. Her juices stained your lips and chin as you planted tender kisses in between her legs.

“I-I... fuck… intens- fuck…”

She was still drunk from the orgasm you gave her. You continued praising her and kissing her thighs as she gradually began to recover and return to normal. Once she does, you embrace her and place her sweat-kissed body on top of yours.

Chaewon ran her hands through your hair as your lips found their way to her nipples, gently sucking on them as she moaned out in pleasure. Your hands did not remain idle - roaming every inch of her skin until resting on her soft bottom.

“C-Can you fuck me now? Please, oppa?”

“How do you want it, princess?” you asked.

“Can… can I ride you?” she shyly asked.

“I’d love that.”

“Wait.” she said, kissing your lips as she got off you and went to her nightstand. You turned to your side and saw her rummaging inside a drawer looking for something. Most of its contents were various night creams and lip gloss, and what appeared to be a phallic-shaped device. You were about to ask if you could help when she closed it and held something behind her back.

“What is it?” you asked.

“Something for me, but also something for you.” she said, biting her lower lip seductively. She grabbed your wrists and wrapped a thin black lace material around them before tying them together. She repeated the process to your eyes. You didn’t expect this side of her, but then again, you didn’t expect to currently be in bed with her either.

“They say sensory deprivation provides an even better experience for both partners.” Chaewon said.

She rubbed her splayed lips against your length several times before reaching below herself and guiding you inside for the very first time. The two of you let out a loud sigh of relief as your tip parted her. She was warm, wet, and dangerously tight. Her body refused to let you go, sinking your cock deeper.

“Oh fuck…” she exhaled loudly as she firmly planted her hands on your chest. She raised her hips until only your tip was inside her before slamming herself back down. She did this several times to warm the both of you up. Eventually, she placed her hands on either side of your head as her lips met yours. The two of you explored each other’s mouths as your tongues danced an elegant tango. It was as if your cock explored a newer part of her pussy with each deep entrance.

Being unable to move your hands or see Chaewon heightened your other senses even more. You were able to feel how tight she was bouncing up and down on your cock. The sounds of her moans that were like music to your ears. The smell of sweat and sex releasing natural pheromones making you want this moment to never end. But as the tightness in your abdomen continued to grow, you knew it wouldn’t be possible.

She bounced herself softly up and down five more times until she felt you raise your hips to match hers. There was nothing else either of you could have done - it was inevitable. Your cock began to throb as a warning before you finally exploded inside her. You moaned in satisfaction as you released shot after shot of thick, hot semen into her waiting pussy. Chaewon’s walls clenched against your shaft, suffocating it, which only caused you to unload more.

Her lower body felt flushed as she could feel it beginning to leak out and stain her thighs. Both of you were exhausted, but fully satisfied. She gathered her remaining strength and raised her hips from yours, removing the blindfold and laced restraint on your wrists. The two of you savored the feeling of each inch being withdrawn from her slowly. As you both struggled to catch your breath, you held each other tightly as you poked her nose and kissed the top of her forehead. Chaewon traced her name on your chest and fixed your damp, out of place hair.

The plan was originally intended to be you and Chaewon taking a shower together and getting clean. Which the two of you managed to do until you didn’t. Due to the simple nature of being in the shower with a naked woman, your cock grew hard in her hand as she was cleaning you. Making sure to go to the area where the water wasn’t at, Chaewon lathered your cock in soapy suds while you used a loofah and did the same to her thighs. It seemed both of you were thinking the same thing as she turned around and faced away from you.

Grabbing onto her surprisingly wide hips, her thighs squeezed your pulsing shaft in between them. With both of you soaped up, there was minimal effort required as your cock slid through with relative ease. Your hands held onto her as you remained patient and were awarded with savoring the feeling of her heavenly soft thighs and how the top of your cock rubbed against the bottom of her pussy lips.

You kissed Chaewon’s beautiful shoulders and the back of her neck as you continued your suffocatingly slow thrusts. Her warm thighs continued to hug your cock until you erupted. Although it was much weaker and a smaller amount, it was no less pleasurable. You continued to fuck her thighs as she made sure to milk you for all you had left. Your initial two ropes of semen splattered on the glass door loudly. Gradually decreasing the already slow speed of your thrusts while riding out your orgasm, Chaewon softly rubbed her cute butt against your crotch until you stopped.

The two of you properly washed off this time before stepping out of the shower and wrapping yourselves together with one towel. You held Chaewon tightly as the two of you gave each other steamy kisses that mirrored the hot shower just now. Not even bothering to put on clothes, the two of you plopped onto the bed. With one final tender kiss, you savored being in each other’s embrace and quickly drifted off to sleep.

“... and that’s how oppa and I started off our morning.” Kim Jungeun could be heard saying.

Park Chaewon opened up her eyes, rubbing the sleep and exhaustion out of them. She blinked several times before her vision readjusted and was greeted with a disapproving frown from Jungeun.

“Seriously…” she complained. “You asked me to tell you why oppa and I were late and you fell asleep during my story.”

“I’m sorry.” Chaewon said. “Been having problems sleeping at home lately.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah… just got a lot on my mind I guess.”

“Things will get better. They always do.”

“Thanks.”

The break room door opens and you enter, greeting Chaewon and Jungeun. You give Chaewon a fist bump before approaching Jungeun who puckers her lips, asking for a kiss. You smiled and honored her request. The loud smack of your lips connecting and disconnecting causes her to smirk in satisfaction.

“I thought you hated kissing at work?” you asked.

“How could I when your lips always taste so yummy… I mean, it’s not like I l-like you or anything. Pig.” Jungeun said, quickly switching from disgustingly sweet to the tsundere, chic woman she was well known as. This earned soft claps from Chaewon, causing Jungeun to groan.

“As expected of the supreme leader.”

The three of you were beginning to discuss where to go for lunch when the break room door is opened once again.

“Oppa. Lieutenant’s looking for you. Says she has some helpful information about a case you’re working on?”

“Got it. Thanks, Hyejoo. Guess we’ll have to take a raincheck on lunch together.” you said, getting up out of your seat. You waved to Chaewon who raised her eyebrows and smiled while kissing Jungeun’s forehead, who didn’t bother to get out of her seat and instead tilted her head up towards you. You flashed them both a peace sign.

“Wait, oppa. What is this?” Jungeun asked, grabbing your wrist which was adorned with a beaded bracelet.

“Oh this?” you said, holding it up. “I found it while cleaning through my things. Hadn’t worn it in years but decided today would be a good day to start. I’ll see you guys later.”

“I’ll call you.” you mouthed to Jungeun before exiting the break room with Hyejoo. Jungeun blushed and couldn’t contain her smile as she happily sipped on her iced americano. She turned to Chaewon who lost all color on her face.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“That bracelet…”

#kpop smut #kpop fanfic #loona #loona smut #gowon #park chaewon #male reader #reader insert

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monodipita · 3 years

Text

There's a Fire in My Heart (Yandere!Rengoku x Reader)

Hello! I wanted to start this post off by saying that I am aware that shorter reader-inserts often garner more attention, but I don't mind that my longer reader-inserts don't garner as much. I hope you enjoyed this piece as much as I enjoyed writing him! And a shorter version may come out soon.

Word count: 4,010

Warnings: YANDERE CONTENT. MENTIONS OF SELF-HARM/SELF-MUTILATION.

Everyone knew about Kyojurou Rengoku. He was the kind, sincere, hard working Hashira who worked his way into the hearts of many. He was handsome and elegant despite being so hardy, with the callouses that adorned his hands like a second skin, and the scars that littered his body. He was able to sway the hearts of many, including your own. You'd been a secret admirer for a while now, writing him cute little notes and leaving them at his post every sunrise that always seemed to make the man smile brighter than the charming smile he always held on his lips.

You knew this because you overheard him talking about the notes with his fellow Hashira Mitsuri Kanroji. "I'd love to meet my secret admirer one day." He told her. One day.

He was always busy, so it became hard to capture his attention... or, rather, it was.

It felt like a stroke of luck so strong that you were going to have bad luck for the rest of your life when you twisted your ankle—because Kyojurou wasn’t looking, and you tripped. Purposefully, yes. You immediately regretted it. Your body came clashing to the forest floor, and the wood inside your basket spilled out onto the ground below you. "Ah!" You whined aloud as an instinctive reflex.

"I'm so sorry!" Kyojurou shot to your side. "Here, I'll grab your things, and then I'll take you to the Butterfly Estate. I'm so sorry!"

You were unable to talk because of how dazed you were, from hitting the forest floor, to the fact that he was now so close to you. You stared at him through bleary eyes as he picked up the long logs of wood and put them back into the basket that was once on your back. He slotted his arms into the straps and helped to hoist your body against his, wrapping his right arm around your waist while his left arm held onto your right. "Stay close, okay? Let me know if I'm doing too much for you."

Shinobu revealed the unfortunate news of being bedridden some few hours later.

”Oh... that’s awful,” he put his right hand over his lips and furrowed his thick brows with worry. His fiery golden eyes looked down at you and caused you to look away before your blush became obvious. “I’m so sorry... [Y/N], was it?”

He knew your name...

“I’ll make up for it somehow, I promise.” He told you. “For now, I must go, I have other matters I must attend to. But I will return, every day at the same time, until you’re better. Okay?”

"Okay."

DAY 1

"I took your wood to your home." He started off the conversation now that he was in the room. "You live alone, [Y/N]?" Alone... if that was a way to put it. "Recently, yes," you admitted aloud, "my family moved away after I passed the The Final Selection. They couldn't agree with my decision to become a demon slayer. I miss them." You smiled wistfully as you recalled the day they cast themselves out of their own home.

Though Kyojurou looked saddened by that answer, he didn't comment on it much further. "I brought your breakfast. Kocho-san was too busy to bring it herself." He set the tray down on your lap. You cringed at the hot feeling, visibly enough to draw his attention—but that might've simply been because you yelped short after. You fought the feeling to reach down and grab at your propped up, sprained ankle, as pain ricocheted through your leg.

"Oh!" He quickly lifted up the tray off of your legs. To your surprise, he didn't spill the contents of the food anywhere around you or on the floor. "I'm sorry, was it too hot?" He asked, causing you to look up at his face. He was blushing out of embarrassment! He looked so cute!

His eyes bulged wide with worry, and the same, saddened frown appeared on his face from moments before. "Just a bit... I wasn't expecting it." You chuckled wryly. "Sorry, you can put it back down." You reassured him and gently pat your lap. "No, it's fine, I'll hold it. I don't want to put any unnecessary strain on your ankle." Kyojurou stated. "It'll be fine! I won't leave until I know you've eaten breakfast."

A blush spread across your own features. He was a selfless man and it showed in every action he performed. How could people not fall in love with him? "Oh, okay," your breath was taken away, clearly. He even went through the act of holding the tray out for you so that you could eat your food. You looked down at what you had to eat—miso soup and onigiri. It smelled delicious. "The cooks here are fantastic." Kyojurou remarked. "I'm sure you've had to spend a lot of time in here, haven't you?" You asked him.

"Mm? Oh, yes." Kyojurou nodded his head. "If I don't come back from a mission with some type of injury, then something is wrong." He chuckled.

"How are they?"

"What is it?"

"I'm just asking, how are the missions? I haven't been able to go on one yet," you admitted, "I've been dealing with a lot of training. Ooyakata-sama says that I'm not ready to go out on my own yet."

Kyojurou looked more than surprised by that answer. "When you live out so far on your own?" He furrowed his brows. "Are you at least training yourself when you cannot attend daily training sessions?" You nodded your head. Of course you tried, but sometimes, training could be too far away. You wouldn't tell him that—you feared that he would pull something out of his sleeve and try to— "eat please, [Y/N]."

"S-sorry," you squeaked. You didn't waste any time digging into your meal. First with the onigiri that seemed to fill you up almost immediately upon biting into the second one. "I don't think I can finish these," you looked up at Kyojurou. His eyes were already on you, as if he was watching you eat. You didn't think anything of it. "Would you like one?"

"I shouldn't... but..." he trailed off as he thought about it, before nodding his head. "I'd appreciate it. I haven't ate, so watching you eat has made me hungry."

"Never starve yourself!" You gently scold him. You reached down and took the rice ball into your hand to give to him, smiling gently at him... until your smile dropped when you realized that you couldn't give it to him. "I-I'm so sorry!" You sputtered. "It's fine. Just feed me," he spoke casually, much to your surprise. You swallowed thickly. Your lips parted to say something, anything about what that man just said, but nothing came out. Your hand instinctively drifted toward his lips, while his head met you halfway. The bite into the food made you jump, your eyes wide as if you were a deer in headlights. You tried not to pay too much mind while you fed him, but it would eventually become apparent that you were embarrassed to do something like this for him. He didn't seem to mind one bit... maybe even he was enjoying it? You had to stop this somehow!

"Do you think the soup has cooled off enough by now to set the tray on my lap?" You asked. The onigiri were delicious, and you weren't joking about it possibly taking up all the space in your stomach. But food was food, and you didn't want to get rid of it all.

Kyojurou hummed and pressed the tray onto his lap. He hovered his right hand over it. "It does seem to be that way." There was the slightest hint of undetectable disappointment in his voice. Had you been better at picking up facades, you would've been able to catch up on it. "Here you go, [Y/N]." He sat the tray down in your lap, engulfing it in warmth. He took the rice ball from you and continued to chew on it while you dug into the soup.

The meal was finished, even though you didn't want it to be. It was filled with eerie silence, because you didn't have anything to say, and Kyojurou was... well, eating. "It was a fantastic meal!" Kyojurou beamed, "I'll be sure to thank them on my way out. Now—" he stood straight, “I have to go. It was nice eating with you, [Y/N]—“

The two of you were interrupted by the sound of a shoji opening. You were surprised to see two butterfly attendants making their way into the room with a room service cart. “What is this?” You asked, “I thought Rengoku-san had the breakfast covered for me?”

”I believe there’s been some sort of mixup. We just finished making breakfast ten minutes ago—but this tray does look like ours.” They picked up the tray and observed it. “Maybe we—“

”There’s no need to conduct an investigation.” Kyojurou spoke up. “I lied about the breakfast. To tell you the truth, I am the one who made that breakfast, and I hoped that we could eat it together.” He smiled apologetically and bowed, “I’m sorry for the confusion I’ve caused, but I truly must take my leave. I’ll see you tomorrow, [Y/N].”

H-he wanted to eat with me?!

Your heart couldn’t stop pounding a furious beat against your chest. You just couldn’t believe the words that came out of his mouth! Eat with you?! You barely knew each other! “Bye,” you weakly called to him while he left the room. If this was going to happen every day? Why, it didn’t feel too bad after the initial impact...

DAY 2

Hours poured into the morning. It felt unusually past the time Kyojurou said he was going to show up... not that you had a way of knowing. Breakfast had already been served, and you were left with the displeasure of eating it on your own, in the silence of your room. You thought you would've been used to the quiet, after all, you lived alone now—but he seemed to dull that pain. Now you missed him.

“[L/N]-san. Are you busy?” Shinobu’s voice was a break in the thick silence, and very much welcomed. The presence of another person was soothing.

You glanced up from your lap and nodded. “Not at all. Please, come in.”

Shinobu slid the shoji shut behind her and stepped over to the bed. She sat down in the bedside chair and elegantly folded her limbs atop one another while she addressed you. There was a warm, inviting smile on her face, much like the one Kyojurou held. “How are you feeling?”

”I’m feeling alright.” You responded. “My foot seems to be doing better than before! I think I’ll be able to get back on my feet by the end of the week.” At least you hoped so. As much as it was nice to be able to have the Flame Hashira see you in personalized visits, you had a life that you needed to live outside of these four walls.

“You’re right about that,” Shinobu started, “but that doesn’t mean I want you to immediately start hopping on your feet and walking around one-legged. In order to make a full recovery, I want you to stay for another two days. Is that fine with you?”

You winced. Two more days of staying in this bed? What if Rengoku-san didn’t show up again? Was it worth it? “That’s fine,” you weakly respond. No it isn’t. But did you have a choice? Not exactly.

”Thank you.” Shinobu stood. “With the more important information out of the way, I’ll allow visitation now—after what happened yesterday involving the mishap with Rengoku-san, I shortened your visitation hours. I didn’t like having to dispose of a good meal just because someone wanted to be friendly.” There was scorn in her voice. You nodded your head slowly in scolded understanding. “I’m sorry about that.”

”You don’t have to apologize,” Shinobu said. She walked over to the shoji. “Please, be well.”

As soon as she left, Kyojurou emerged from the shoji. He looked radiant, as usual, like the sun on a beautiful day with clear skies. His smile acted as the ray of sunshine that would blind your eyes, but at least you welcomed this form of sunshine. A smile bled onto your own lips as he fully made his way into the room and shut the shoji behind him. Alone, the two of you.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it.” He let out a sigh while he walked over to the bedside chair. “Kocho-san is strict, but with good intentions.” He said aloud, as if to convince the two of you of that fact. "I know that. I'm still appreciative of what you did for me, even if we might've gotten into trouble."

You reached over and gently grabbed his forearm—noticing that he winced from that feeling. “Oh, did you just come back from a mission?” You asked. There must’ve been a cut under his uniform’s sleeves. Come to think of it, you could see a faint spot of blood where your hand pressed against it. "Does it need to be patched up?" You frowned with worry.

”Oh; no, that’s not it. I happened to get into a bit of an accident earlier this morning while I was cutting wood,” he explained, “I’ve already patched it up. No need to worry—it just hurt a bit, that’s all.” He smiled reassuringly, one that nearly melted you. You smiled back at him just as much. “I see.” You responded, “well, I have exciting news.”

He perked up. “What is it?”

”I’m going to be discharged in two days.” You told him. “You won’t have to worry about me anymore.”

”Two days?” Kyojurou’s face contorted. He looked... worried. He was quick to voice his thoughts about the decision. “Are you sure that’s going to be all you need? I thought sprained ankles needed more time to heal,”

It was so cute. How could he be so worried about someone he had just met? You found yourself giggling at him. “Relax. I feel much better now than how I felt yesterday. If I could, I’d even try getting up and walking around to see how it felt.” Being able to walk around would’ve been a relief. As enjoyable as it sounded before, being bedridden felt much like a nightmare. “I definitely don’t recommend it,” he said, clearly half-joking. “Please take care of yourself. Well—I have to go.” He rushed to get out of his seat. He stood tall, reaching over to gently pat your leg before he half-turned to face the shoji to leave.

”So soon?” You frowned. You were going to be lonely for the rest of the day...

”Visitation hours were cut short; remember, silly?” Kyojurou chuckled. “I’ll try to see you and stay for longer tomorrow.” He stepped out of the room as quickly as he came in, leaving you in the silence.

DAY 3

No sign of Kyojurou—just another quiet day. He said he would come... was there something wrong? You wanted to ask someone so badly, but you didn't even know how to voice it. For now, you would just stay quiet about it. Maybe he had to go on an actual mission. Aww... that would've meant that you couldn't see each other when you were discharged...

DAY 4

Discharge day. You couldn’t wait for this day as much as you dreaded it. It would be fantastic to finally get out of this room, out into the world, where you could go home and be in the comfort of your own bed. You awoke early to catch Shinobu just in time, who stepped into the room with the same, happy go lucky smile on her face. “I know you must be excited about today, [L/N]-san.”

”I am,” you beamed while you began to sit up. You slowly, steadily raised yourself off the bed and met her halfway. The sensation of walking... felt strange, after not doing it for so long. Your legs felt partially asleep, and there was a dull pain in your ankle that was sure to become annoying after a while. “How are you feeling?” She asked. “If I need to change your compression bandages for you, then I can.” She held out the gauze for grabs. ”I’ll be fine. Thank you for your magnificent service, Kocho-san.” You bowed to her and took the gauze out of her hand.

"[Y/N]-san!"

Kyojurou's voice grabbed your attention and made you nearly squeal with excitement. You hurried as best as you could to reach the shoji and thrust it open to eagerly meet the sight of him. He smelled faintly of burning wood... "did you just get done with doing something?" You asked. "Maybe something important?"

"Not important, no," the beaming, fiery-haired man shook his head and continued to smile. "I wanted to walk you home." A walk home? That sounded so sweet of him. "Oh," a blush spread thinly across your cheeks, "that's very nice of you. Thank you, Rengoku-san." The two of you stepped out of the Butterfly Estate. The walk was a quiet one... Kyojurou seemed so fixated on simply walking, and your mind was occupied by the fact that you were even having the chance to walk home with him made it so exciting.

It came into view. It took longer to get there than what you normally remembered it taking, but you shrugged it off, merely thinking of it as nothing more but a slow pace. He was just so considerate, after all.

You stepped in behind him after he opened the shoji for you. Home sweet home... it smelled like it, felt like it. Everything looked unchanged—but there was something off about it all. You could tell. "Wait... this isn't my home," you narrowed your eyes. Bewilderment seeped into your brain while you tried to make sense of it. "Why are all of my clothes and belongings here? Where are we truly at, Rengoku-san?"

Tricked. You were almost tricked, but you recognized your home anywhere you were at. These walls weren't the same. You didn't have an irori...

"I thought long and hard about it, but... I can't keep hiding the truth from you, [Y/N]-san." Kyojurou reached over to grab one of your hands, pulling the limp appendage into his own and giving it a gentle squeeze. What is he talking about? "For some time now, I have admired you. I liked watching you take your daily walks. I liked seeing that you were healthy, I liked seeing you take care of yourself."

What?

"I liked the notes that you left on my engawa—seeing you play dumb as if you weren't the one who put those notes there. The cute little smudge-marks your fingers would make when you were finished with the ink," he gently squeezed your hand.

How did he know?

"When you told me that you lived alone, it only confirmed my suspicions. You don't have anyone else to go to. I would hate such a life for someone who is so deserving of any love that comes their way."

Why was he talking about it?

"I did what I thought was the best thing to do..." he trailed off to take your other hand in his, squeezing both of them as he made his way in front of you. "You don't have to love me, all you have to do is trust me."

"Why?" Your lips were trembling. You felt sick. Yes, everything or what you could see of everything from your home was inside this single room, but it wasn't what mattered. You grew up in that home, and he... and he... "You took everything away from me. Y-you burned my home."

"No... no, don't think about it that way." Kyojurou looked all over your expression for some sign of comfort. His hands dropped yours to cup your cheeks, staring into your own with a worried expression. "That's not how you should think about it, [Y/N]-san. Don't you understand? This will be the opportunity to start your life anew with me."

It was so deranged, so sick. You barely had the physical power to shrug him off, but you managed to pull through. You needed to go back, you needed to see what he did to the only place that reminded you of your family that you had left.

"No... please, [Y/N]-san, you don't want to do this," Kyojurou tried to reason as he trailed behind you, off the engawa and into the barren yard, "you're going to see things that you don't want to see. You don't have to subject yourself to that torture." His hand touched your forearm and gently grasped it. You lashed out at him and ripped your arm out of his grip. "Leave me! Don't you see that you've ruined my life!?"

Kyojurou stood still. "Y-you don't get it," he stammered, "[Y/N]-san, I need you too. You have the energy I want in my life!" He raised his strained voice as he ripped both sleeves of his uniform up on his body to reveal scars. Plenty of them. It was alarming, but in your mind, it couldn't have hurt as much as seeing your childhood home burn down. "You're speaking like a madman," you scolded him. "I don't even know why I'm entertaining someone so delusional."

"...I'll do it."

The blade came as a shock. Your eyes widened, how did he get his hands on one so quickly? You thought you couldn't even see his arms moving... "I deserve it for being a bad significant other, don't I?" He sounded so creepy. His voice sounded off; desperate, but loving. "I've hurt you, so I must hurt myself, right?"

"..." you grimaced. How did you respond to an emotionally taxing situation like this? "You wouldn't...Rengoku-san, I don't even know you!"

"But you do!" He blurted back at you. "I'll do anything for you, [Y/N]. I just ask that you come back! Walk back to me... you don't have to see what happened to your home, you can just be with me," he pleaded.

But you didn't listen. No, you wouldn't. You turned and ran as fast, and as hard as your feet could take you into the forest, into the direction of your home. The scent of something burning helped with your path-finding, but it didn't matter. Your ankle started hurting. Hurting, hurting, and hurting. You'd forgotten that it was even strained until just now, where the pain became so severe that you ended up toppling over your injury.

"AH!"

You fell to the forest floor and squeezed your eyes shut out of pain. "Hoo... oh fuck," you hissed, clenching your teeth and bowing your head. What a painful feeling to come across, it was almost excruciating. But you needed to keep going... he was coming after you. Even if he threatened to do whatever he did back there, the pain of going through it wasn't going to stop him.

"[Y/N]-san... please."

He was already on you... maybe he was even behind you the entire time and you were under the foolish assumption that you'd escaped his line of sight. No, not at all.

"Get-get away from me!" You yelled at him. "Please!"

You stifled a gasp and a sob as his bloodied hands caressed your face. His hands trembled while his thumbs pressed directly into your cheeks while his thumb smeared the blood from his hands onto your poor cheeks. His blood. You knew what he did to himself. "Finally," he whispered, "I've finally caught you...and you can't leave me anymore. Please, [Y/N]-san, for our sake... think of this as our new life together. How I've waited so long for this opportunity, and now that I have it..!"

#yandere #rengoku x reader #rengoku kyoujurou #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny x reader #gender neutral insert #reader insert

283 notes · View notes

earthlyyan · 3 years

Text

Little Trainee (Platonic(?)Yan! Childe x Reader)

For @bye-bye-sunbird (thanks again for your help) Warnings: Abuse, Graphic descriptions of violence, Implied Torture, Eye Trauma, Unhealthy Sibling relationships, Childe being a sadist, Kidnapping? If you squint? Imprisonment? Betrayal

Word Count: 3084

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He was gone.

Tartaglia held his younger brother’s fur-lined cap in his calloused hands, bringing it close to his chest. He’d taken off without it, wanting to be as far away from the killer that was his big brother so badly, he’d neglected to dress for the cold.

Despite his best efforts, Tartaglia had been unable to find him, and though tempted, he had refused to get the Fatui involved. It would further remind Teucer that his brother’s job was a terrifying one, too dark for the mind of a child to fully grasp. A child’s mind would never truly grasp why he had to kill, only that he had taken the life of another. And how that was an unforgivable sin.

He’d requested a day off work to prevent him from making any rash decisions on duty. He’d spent the day wandering aimlessly, desperately trying to gather his thoughts. He’d found himself in the familiar shambles of Dunyu Ruins. Perhaps he’d take out his frustrations on some ruin guards, or at least he’d considered it, until he saw you.

In and out and in and out.

Your sword found its way into the ruin guards eye again and again. It had been dead after the first thirteen stabs, but you didn’t care.

Your thrusts were becoming harder to maintain, your shallow breaths and sore arms halting your rage filled pursuit. Your legs straddled its large, heavy body, thick vines restrained its arms and legs.

It killed him. It killed your brother. The laser sliced his body while simultaneously cauterizing the wound, leaving him in two, unable to bleed. His face still frozen in that of agonizing pain.

It was going to kill you as well until a blinding green light appeared before you; a dendro vision.

You didn’t know how you did it, but now it was dead, and the gift of the archons laid on the ground before you. You hated it.

A gift of the gods, what a fucking joke.

You choked back the urge to vomit at the rancid scent before removing your sword from the gaping glass wound.

You kicked the hunk of metal as hard as you could before losing your balance and falling back onto the ground.

A man stood there; a couple years older than you. You’d fallen right at his feet.

He wordlessly helped you up off the ground before clearing his throat, as if to clear the air with it.

“You know, I’ve never seen someone receive a vision before.” His voice was light and airy. “I had been walking when it’s light blinded me. I regret not showing up sooner.”

You refused to look at the strange man, his words not registering. Your mind was too busy trying to process what had just happened.

“Hey,” His voice was louder, shaking you from your stunned stupor. He held out a handkerchief from his pocket. “You should probably get out of—”

“He’s dead.”

The man’s brow furrowed. “I’m sorry?”

“That thing killed him. He’s dead.” Your words were empty. You contemplated if you should be feeling anything else other than thinly veiled anger and disgust. You should’ve been sadder. The only thing you had felt at the time of you mindlessly stabbing the guard was desperation for your own survival, and fear that it would get up again. You were revolted at the sight of the corpse before you, but you weren’t terribly torn up about the death in itself. And that disgusted you.

Anyone else would’ve been. Anyone would’ve been devastated if they had watched their own kin get cut in two. But no, you were more worried about what you’d tell your mother.

You walked over to the remains of your brother and poked it with your foot, your blatant disrespect for the dead caught the man off guard. Your gut did flips in your stomach at the gruesome sight.

“You don’t seem too upset about it.” He seemed to lack the same feeling of fear at the sight of a corpse. You didn’t quite know how to feel about that. “Though, you don’t seem like you’ve got the guts to orchestrate it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He laughed. “The way you kept stabbing the poor ruin guard made me think it was self-defense, and that the death was an accident. But the fact that you’re not devastated at his death made me wonder that you did it intentionally.”

“And if it was?” “Then I think I’d applaud your ambition.”

The man introduced himself as Childe, a member of the Snezhnayan organization called the Fatui. He claimed to be a warrior of sorts, and that he had gone to Dunyu Ruins to take out some frustrations he had one some ruin guards. He then had stumbled across you stabbing a lifeless robot corpse.

He had treated you to lunch in Liyue, saying that leaving you to stew in your thoughts after witnessing something of that caliber was ill-advised.

“What were you doing in Dunyu Ruins?”

“My brother wanted to do something there. He wouldn’t tell me what it was.” You mumbled.

“And the sword?”

“The sword I have with me was the one he was carrying, but when his torso disconnected from his legs, his scabbard landed close to me. So I thought I might as well use it.” You stirred your soup with your spoon, not having much of an appetite.

“So why did he have the sword?”

“Archons know.” You sighed. “If I’m being frank, I think he was going to kill me.”

Childe lowered his tigerfish from his mouth. A light laugh left his lips, startling you. “What makes you think that?”

“I was father’s favorite, though I am the younger of the two of us. So when he found out he had left the inheritance to me instead of his eldest son, he thought it unfair.” You reluctantly brought the spoon to your lips and swallowed. “We had never gotten along; I was like a punching bag than his younger sibling.”

“And I suppose that’s why you’re not crying and mourning the loss?” His voice was mocking.

“Well, would you?”

Childe hummed. “I’m not sure, family is family, but…” his voice lowered into an inaudible mumble, pondering.

He was silent for a moment. He took a few bites of his grilled tigerfish. His eyes wandered to the scabbard at your hip. “You don’t know how to fight.”

“What? Where did this come from?” He hadn’t even finished his thought from before.

“The way you were holding the sword as you used it to kill the ruin guard was way off. Had you kept going, you could’ve gotten hurt. If you had held it properly you could still be stabbing it now. If you didn’t get that vision when you did, it could’ve killed you with how poorly you were handling yourself.”

“That’s the whole point of getting bestowed a vision. Saving you when you’re on the brink of death or something like that.” You shoved your spoon in your mouth again.

“Yes, true.” He sighed and set down the now empty skewer. “But if you hadn’t gotten it you would’ve ended up like—” “Okay jeez I get it!” You grumbled around the metal in your mouth. “What are you getting at?”

“Luckily for you, I’m quite skilled at the sword.” His chest puffed in pride. “And it’s not like you’re going to go home with half a brother in tow, yes?”

“So you want to train me? What good does that do you?” “I’ve always wanted to train someone in a weapon.” He smiled, though there was a tinge of sadness in his voice. Like he was looking forward to it before the invitation presented itself. “And now, I can.”

You were on the ground again, some shallow, superficial cuts littered your body, Childe’s blade inches from your throat.

“You left yourself open again. I told you this weeks ago and yet you can’t get it.” A disappointed sigh escaped his lips as he pinged the bridge of his nose. “Hunch, keep your legs apart, again.”

Some part of you wondered if Childe got off on hearing your groans and hisses when he slashed you. Something about the way he bounced on his legs and the way his grin seemed more genuine had you worried.

You slowly got yourself off the ground, your bones and muscles creaking in protest as you readied your brother’s blade again.

“If you’re sore it means its working.” His laugh echoed as he lunged himself at you again, leaving you a moment notice to swerve out of the way. “If you weren’t sore before it means you were doing it wrong.” He dodged an oncoming attack from your sword and swept your legs, leaving you on the floor again. Yup, he was definitely getting off on this.

Three months under Childe’s tutelage toned your body significantly. He seemed to be more eager to fight you these days. Saying that you were finally getting fun to fight or something like that.

“Despite your form issues in the beginning, you’re practically a natural.” He beamed as he extended a hand to you. “Fighting you is actually fun these days, and less boring.”

“It was boring before?” You were borderline insulted.

“Fighting against you was boring. Seeing you grow and mature as a fighter was interesting.”

“Uh huh.” You wiped the sweat from your brow. “Sure.”

He’d been gracious enough to let you room at his house. And for someone of his age, it was quite impressive for him to have one of this stature. You had your own room across the hall from his. He only had two rules when staying with him.

One: The lower levels were off limits. No matter what. He said that it had to do with his work, and that it would be unprofessional of him to allow someone to interfere.

Two: Don’t ask about his work.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious about it. Sometimes he’d leave for days on end and come back beat up, other times you’d hear noises from the lower levels.

They sounded like screams.

You wondered what he’d have to do for a living to hear such noises from below. Sometimes he’d go down for hours and come up itching for a fight with you, other times he’d leave satisfied and covered in blood. You’d wondered if it was his own.

Something about it didn’t sit right with you, but a fight with Childe was not one you wanted to engage in. He’d know all your moves, considering he’d been the one to teach them to you. Whenever you’d try to bring it up, you’d be shut down with an uncharacteristic coldness from him. One that barely used, only when he was talking about his work, that is.

But tonight the screams were louder. They reached your room in the depths of the night, even with the door closed and pillows blocking your ears. You had to know.

You were sick of being left in the dark here, you were sick of hearing those screams from downstairs. You had to know.

Were you training under a serial killer? Childe didn’t seem like the type, or was he?

The strange amount of pleasure he’d get when watching you get hurt by his hand. The ruthless way he’d slaughter hillichurls and treasure hoarders alike. No matter who or what it was, its death was no different to Childe. It seemed to light him ablaze, having him itching for a fight with anything that moved, and when it stopped moving, he’d be disappointed.

The screams had died down after a few hours. You had to wait until you heard his boots go back upstairs and into the room across the hall.

You had to be more quiet if you were going to get in and out of there before he noticed you.

After these escapades he would take a shower, the running water would be enough to cover your footsteps going down the hall, truly.

A minute after the shower started running you made your move. It was easy to pick out what door led to the basement, due to the sheer amount of deadbolts and locks keeping it closed. He’d left the key in the door, probably to stop whoever was in the basement from looking through the keyhole. Smart move for him when it came to living alone, but with company, it was practically begging to be used.

And use it you did. Deadbolt after deadbolt, you finally turned the key.

The basement was warm and sweet smelling. But not in the pleasant way sweets were supposed to smell.

It made your stomach ache and twist as you descended the staircase, closing the door behind you.

The clinking of chains got your attention before the sight of blood had. The lights had flickered on, illuminating the sight before you. You couldn’t hold back your vomit anymore.

Your suspicions were right, or so it seemed, with the sheer amount of bodies below. One was still living, trembling, and hunching away from you. “Did Childe do this?” You knew the answer but had to be sure. Perhaps it was an associate he worked with, or some weird fetish.

The man nodded, “I didn’t have enough money.”

“What?”

“To pay back the Northland Bank.” He stammered. “I couldn’t pay them back, so they sent him.”

“He’s a debt collector?”

The man shook his head. “No. He doesn’t care about collecting the debt, not like the others.”

There were others?

“He gets sent in after the warning deadlines are up. You pay with your—”

The man abruptly stopped, looking past you and onto the stairwell. Then he couldn’t see at all.

An arrow flew past you, barely grazing your ear before finding itself in the mans eye socket. He slumped to the ground, lifeless. You whizzed around to meet the source, only to find Childe, an arrow drawn taught in the bow you’d barely see leave his side.

“Well that’s disappointing.” He sighed. “I was hoping to make him last another day.” He grimaced. “That was a warning shot, by the way.” He walked down the stairs slowly, still aiming at you. “Put your back to the wall.”

He almost sounded sad. You were too shocked to move.

An arrow landed at your feet, standing straight up against the ground. “I said put your back to the wall. That wasn’t a suggestion.”

You tripped over the man’s corpse while making it to the wall. “Childe I—” “Nope, too late for that. Hands up.” He slowly lowered his weapon and made a show of putting it away. He wanted you to know he still had it. He leaned in close to your face. “Now that’s a look I haven’t seen in quite some time.” His voice was low, husky. “Betrayal looks so good on you.”

You could feel his hot breath on your neck. You growled and threw your head forward, colliding with his. He took a step back.

Blood ran down from his forehead, his eyes practically glowing with excitement. “Oh hoh~ Now that’s what I’m talking about. A real fight from you.” He drew hydro blades from his sides and threw one at you. “I’m expecting improvement from you, my little trainee.”

You picked up the cool blade from your feet, never breaking eye-contact with him. “I’ll kill you.”

“You better hope you do. For your sake, at least.” You lunged at him, swiftly finding your way behind him, ready to strike.

“Your stance has gotten better.” He smiled. “But I’m afraid it still leaves you open” He kicked off from the ground and into the air, his foot collided with your chin sending you reeling.

“You bastard.” You hissed, picking yourself off from the ground with the steadiness of a newborn deer. “Why not be more quiet about your escapades down here? If you’d had your victims quiet down, I would’ve never found about what you were doing.”

“I never said I never wanted you to find out what I was doing.” He ran at you again, slicing your shirt and your left shoulder along with it. “I was hoping you’d have enough faith in your teacher to follow my rules.” He sighed. “I didn’t take you for the curious type.”

“I’m not.” You said, you swept at his leg, but he narrowly escaped, jumping just high enough to miss it. “But I enjoy liking to sleep in peace knowing my upperclassmen isn’t a serial killer.”

“I’m no serial killer!” He laughed, landing a cut to your lower back, then stepping hard on it. You fell to the ground trapped under his heel. “I’m simply following orders. I have nothing against these people.” He pressed harder.

You suppressed a scream.

“I do have a problem with those who interfere. You were going to help him, weren’t you?”

You’d be lying if you said you were going to leave him to die.

“Weren’t you?” His voice was closer to your ear this go round.

“Yes! Yes, I was!” You sobbed. “I just wanted to—”

“I’ve heard this before. Suddenly you have the moral upright to save a dying stranger? But you sat back and kicked your brother’s corpse?”

“That was different!” “Sure it was. A man is a man is a man, yeah?” His foot lifted from your back and turned you onto your stomach. “See the difference between me and a serial killer, is that if I was a serial killer, I probably would kill you right now.” He sighed. “But see, I like you. So I think I’ll let you live. Though don’t expect things to go back to normal. I can’t expect you to stay quiet and continue your training in the open alongside me.” He leaned you up against the wall, easily fighting against your protests. He took your wrists and cuffed them to the wall.

The restraints were still warm.

You shuddered.

“See, here’s the thing.” He said. He cupped your cheek with his spare hand. “I don’t want to leave you the way you are, half trained. I do enjoy fighting you.” He finished tying you upright and smiled, admiring his handiwork. “I’ll let you go under one condition.”

For the first time since you’d met him, his smile finally reached his eyes.

“You’re free if you can kill me.”

#yandere writing #genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere childe #yandere genshin x reader #reader insert #childe x reader #genshin tartagalia #tw: violence #tw: injury #tw: graphic depictions of violence

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regretthatsme · 3 years

Text

Looney's Sister - Harry Potter x Fem!Lovegood!Reader

That's right bitches, bros, and nonbinary hoes. I'm back. I'm so happy that I finished a oneshot. AAAAAAHHHHHHHH! I'm sorry I've taken so long to post. But, it's here now!

Harry didn't know when his fondness for Luna's sister, Y/N, started. He just knew that he liked her a lot. They were quite good friends, actually. A few years ago, she saw him struggling with herbology, which just so happened to be Y/N's strong suit. It quite convenient honestly, especially when you consider the fact that Y/N was have issues in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

He knew from the start that his feelings for her were more than platonic. What he didn't expect was for him to fall so hard. But, how could he not when she was so perfect.

Her bubbly personality was so inviting and warm. Her eyes made e/c his favorite color. He adored her laugh; it sounded like a beautiful melody. Her smile was just as stunning.

Godric, I'm whipped, he thought. There was one issue, though. He couldn't for the life of him ask her out, ironic for a Gryffindor. What if she doesn't like me? How do I ask her out?

His mind would race into the late hours of the night, wondering how he would work up the courage to ask her out. He knew she wouldn't like something big and extravagant, for she had trouble processing lots of information at once, much like her sister. Her sister!

Harry wondered how he never thought of asking Luna before. I mean, their personalities mirrored each other almost perfectly. He quickly ran to the forbidden forest. Luna spent most of her time there.

"Hello, Harry." A dreamy voice called to him.

"Hello, Luna."

"Is there a reason you are here?"

"Umm... yeah." Harry's face became very hot suddenly, a stark contrast to the nippy weather that morning. "I-uh. I should probably come right out and say it, shouldn't I?"

"Yes, that would be most appreciated." Luna responded. Harry couldn't tell if she was sarcastic or not.

"I've fallen deeply in love with your sister, and I was wondering if you knew how I could ask her out."

Luna was clear shocked by this revelation. She thought for a few minutes before replying, "I appreciate your honesty, however I cannot say that I am too pleased with it."

Harry's face fell slightly. "What does that mean?"

"Harry, she's recently had her heart broken by another. I'm sorry, but I do not trust you with her love."

-*-*-*-

He knew he shouldn't be over thinking this. He knew that it was pointless. He knew it was only going to give him stress, but he couldn't stop as much as he tried. Who would dare hurt her? Her? The most caring, beautiful person in Hogwarts?

Needless to say, Harry's eyes were sporting some serious under eye bags the next morning.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Asked Hermione during breakfast, noting the discoloration under her friend's eyes.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"He was up late last night." Said his best friend and roommate, Ronald Weasley.

"No, I wasn't, Ron."

"Okay. Fine. You went to bed at a reasonable time." Ron said before turning to Hermione and mouthing No he didn't. Harry was about to retaliate before a small body sat down next to him. A dreamy voice rendered his speech effectively useless as a flush filled his cheeks.

"Hello Hermione, Ron. Good morning, Harry." She addressed each individually, as she always does. "How are we this morning?"

Ron smirked a small bit at his friend's face. "Oh, I'm splendid." He remarked, chuckling slightly at his friend's state. "What about you, Harry?"

Y/N seemed to perk up at the name. Her head turned to him, only now noticing the rosy hue on his cheeks. "Oh dear, you don't look so well." Her voice was distinctly quieter, almost as if she only wanted him to hear. Her hand slowly came up to feel his forehead. "You're absolutely scalding! And it's clear you haven't gotten any sleep."

She panicked slightly.

Ron tried to hold in a laugh. "Oh, yes. Harry was hacking and wheezing last night. It was horrible."

Harry's eyes were about the size of saucers. "What are you doing?" He whispered.

"Trust me." He mouthed back.

"He's in no shape to go to class. Someone must take care of him." Harry just realized what Ron was trying to do. Wanker.

"I would, but Hermione and I have a test first period." Hermione nodded too, quickly becoming aware of his scheme. "Looks like you're going to need to take care of him. I really wish I could help."

Y/N's eyes never left Harry's face. "Be sure to tell the teachers about Harry's predicament." She said as she dragged him out of the great hall, despite his protests. She knew the password was as she was a frequenter of the Gryffindor common room. He was led to his dorm and was forced onto the bed.

"Y/N, I'm gonna tell you one more time. I'm not-"

"Shhhhhh." She cut him off. "Harry, relax. I can't remember the last time you did." She did have a point. He couldn't remember the last time he had a stress free hour, much less day. "I'm going to go to the kitchen and whip up something. Get some rest, alright?" He nodded his head. His eyelids slowly fluttered and closed. He didn't really dream, but he felt a sort of presence. It felt like a giant hug.

He didn't know how long he had been asleep, but he woke to the sound of Y/N closing his bedroom door. "I made a soup with some clowort root mixed in. It should help with your symptoms." She said. "And, there is some water to wash it all down."

"You never cease to amaze me." He said rather bluntly in his sleepy delirium. He took a spoonful of the soup. It tasted quite like the food in the great hall, but there was something distinctly different from it. There was an unmistakable taste of... home. He quickly went for more.

"Slow down, Harry!" Y/N's volume raised ever so slightly. "Consuming large amounts of clowort root can lead to some unwanted side effects."

"Like what?"

She gestured for him to lead forward, as if telling him a secret. "People tend to make quite irrational decisions when copious amounts of clowort are in their system." She pulled back and gave a stern yet loving gaze.

"I don't know. I've eaten a decent amount and I don't feel a thing." He said indifferently. She simply rolled her eyes and looked away from him.

"Hey. I uh... I heard from Luna that you had some trouble with a boy and I'm here if you need to talk or anything." He knew that he probably shouldn't invite his crush to talk openly about a romantic partner she had, but he would listen to her talk about anything and everything just to hear her voice.

"Oh. It's nothing. Just a stupid fling that hadn't even lasted a month." Y/N said, her eyes becoming more solemn looking.

"It's just... if I had a girlfriend," especially one as perfect as you, "I would treat her better than that."

"I can see the brash decision making has already taken effect." Y/N jokes lightly, but only was laughing at it.

"I'm serious, you know." He said, grabbing her hand and lacing her fingers through his.

"Harry, you're not thinking straight-"

"Ever since we met each other and you helped me with your helped me with my homework. You were so kind."

"Harry, please don't-"

"I understand if you don't feel the same way, I wouldn't be so keen on falling in love someone who nearly dies every other weekend either, but I needed you to-"

"Harry." Her voice was ferm enough to cut off his incoherent ramblings. Her thumb brushed against the back of his hand. "You're not well. You're saying things you don't mean-"

"No, I'm not-"

"Harry, I can't have my heart broken again." Her eyes held a certain glossiness to it that he hadn't seen before. Her voice was almost breaking. "You are amazing and sweet and beautiful and... well, words can hardly describe how much I admire you. But," Her eyes darted around the room, trying to avoid eye contact. "You're just doing this because you're sick and under the influence. You don't mean it-"

"Yes, I do!" Harry giggled slightly. He was getting a bit frustrated at this point. "What do I have to do to prove it to you?"

She looked deep into his emerald eyes. They say eyes are the window to the soul, and they weren't lying. Every emotion, every thought running through his pretty head, everything could be seen in them. It was so intense, she could only make eye contact for a few seconds.

"Nothing." Y/N whispered. Harry's head snapped to her. "I believe you, Harry." They sat in silence for a while, processing the revelation that just took place. It was a bit awkward. Okay, very awkward. The apprehension of the unknown was creeping upon them. Now what? Where do we go from here?

Harry was the first to make a move. He held his arm out, inviting her join him on his, rather small in hindsight, bed. She happily accepted and curled into his side. She was practically on top of him due to the size of the bed, yet he couldn't be happier. Neither could she.

Bonus:

"HARRY JAMES POTTER, WHAT ON EARTH DO YOU THINK YOUR DOING?" Y/N was positive that Luna's cries could be heard throughout the entire castle.

"Luna, please calm down-" She tried to console.

"GET AWAY FROM MY SISTER!"

#harry potter #harry james potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #harry potter fluff #luna lovegood

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dameronology · 3 years

Note

can i request from your agnst song lyrics list 1) "i had all of you, most of you, some and now none of you" - the night we met, lord huron? maybe from nat’s perspective bc she lost reader please? 🥺

of course!! i hope u enjoy <3 this came out in a weird format but ?? we move

natasha romanoff + ""i had all of you, most of you, some and now none of you"

Natasha could count the five occasions on her right hand during which she knew she was going to lose you. As each one passed, she could tell that you were slipping away bit by bit; at first, it was just a little. A tiny bit of distance, but something you could bounce back from. Then it became a deeper and deeper divide, until she'd passed the point of no return and lost you completely. The worst part was that she knew it was happening. She was fully aware that you were slipping through her fingers and she had done nothing to stop. There was only one person to blame, and Nat knew who it was.

The first time she knew was when she'd missed an important dinner date - a cliche, really. It had happened to everyone at some point or another but this one? It had been a particularly important one. A big PR night for the Avengers, where she'd promised to be by your side and help put on a united front. You'd set a reminder on her phone, written it on the calendar in her office, and even sent her a final text on the big day. Then her meeting had overran, and she had a conference call, and four hours later, the realisation hit her like a truck. She'd forgotten. She'd taken on too much work and let you down.

"I am so sorry!" Nat burst in the room, fiery hair all over the place. She had quickly come in a rush, and her less than subtle entrance only brought more embarrassment to the warmth on your cheeks. "I was working, and I lost track of time-"

"- you had one job, Natasha," you hissed. Standing up from the dinner table, you awkwardly moved over to her and shoved a glass of champagne in her hands. "You said you had booked the day off weeks ago."

"There isn't a day off when you're an Avenger," she softly reminded you. But, the presence of Bucky, Steve, Tony, Peter and literally every other fucking super-hero in New York told you other-wise.

"Yeah, I know," you murmured. "C'mon, let's just sit down."

"I really am sorry, honey," Nat pushed.

"I know," you repeated. "Just...be on your best behaviour for the rest of the evening."

You'd written it off as a blip; so what if Natasha had made a mistake? Despite all her prior accomplishments, she was a human being. Work was important to her and you totally got that. It was important to you as well, and you had always supported each other.

More than anything, you were just grateful it had been a work related incident than anything. The first few months of your relationship had been plagued with Nat pushing you away and consistently shutting you out - it had taken a long time for her to open up to you, and even longer for her to trust you. You were glad whatever argument had come her mess-up hadn't been her doing the same all over again.

Or so you'd hoped - because the second time she felt you slipping away? It was a little more serious.

"Natasha," you sighed, "you need to tell me these things."

"It's nothing, I promise," she murmured.

"A gunshot wound isn't nothing!" you countered. "The worst part is that I found out about it from Bucky's Snapchat story."

She frowned. "Bucky has Snapchat?"

"Yeah, he meant to to send it to Steve, but accidentally posted it publicly instead," you gave a derivative snort. "But that aside, you can't keep things like that from me. I thought we didn't have secrets. Nat."

"We don't, sweetheart," Nat replied. "I just didn't want to scare you."

"You scared me more by not telling me," you shot back. "Just...please tell me next time? Don't keep me out the loop."

She forced a smile. "I won't."

But she did.

So much so, in fact, that you found yourself almost losing Natasha completely. She would no longer tell you about where she was going on missions, or when she would be back - it was all just a giant question mark. And not that dissimilar from how it had been at the beginning of your relationship. She'd been secretive, then; keeping you out the loop and not opening up when she clearly experienced something traumatic.

You'd always been there for her, but you didn't want to force it either. You were just hyperaware that you were the only person you spoke too, and if she stopped talking to you? That meant she was bottling it all up. That was never healthy.

"Steve said there were deaths," you called after Natasha, helplessly following her through your shared apartment. "Five men down, Nat, and you don't even want to talk about it a little?"

"I'm not good at talking," Nat muttered. She stalked through to the bedroom, throwing her go-bag into the back of the wardrobe. "Don't force me."

You stopped in your tracks. "You're right. I'm sorry. I just...I don't want you to bottle it up, y'know? That's not good for you. I guess I'm just letting you know that the offer is there."

"Thank you," Nat forced a smile. Again. "I appreciate it."

"I also don't want you to shut me out," you continued. "I've been through that with you before and I don't want to do it again. It almost killed both of us."

"Hey, I'm sorry," her face fell, and she softly reached out, pulling you into a hug. "I won't shut you out. I promise."

Natasha managed to break both of her promises; the one about keeping you in the loop, the one about not shutting you out.

It came naturally to her, you see. She was a solitary person; raised by design to be self-sufficient and to not let anyone in. At the Red Room, finding support in others had been a sign of weakness and try as she might, Natasha couldn't shake the habits that were engrained into her brain. She wanted to - for you, she really did - but it was hard.

It didn't take long for things to come to a head. You weren't an idiot; you knew when Natasha was icing you out. It had hurt too much the first time round and there was no guarantee that you'd have it in you to see it through a second time. You figured that space might be good - not a break up, but just some time apart.

"Natasha, we need to talk."

She hated the words as soon as they left your mouth - so did you. There was never a good conversation that started with we need to talk. It was always either a separation or an ultimatum, and you were too tired for the latter. Proposing a break seemed like the best thing for you both.

Nat frowned. "What's up?"

"I won't beat around the bush," you began. "I think we should take some time apart."

You could see Natasha's face fall instantly, but she couldn't deny it that it hadn't come as a shock. Something - a trial separation, a break-up, an argument - had been brewing for a while. She was just good at dancing around it.

"Really?"

"Yeah," you admitted. "We're both tired and it feels like we're slipping back towards how things used to be."

"You're right," she agreed. "I'm sorry. You know I love you, right?"

You smiled. "I know - I figured you could use the time to work out what you want. See if you wanna talk to someone professionally, or if you just want to...y'know."

"Know what?"

"If you want to break-up permanently," you finished the sentence with a wobble in your voice. "Ball's in your court, Nat."

The ball was in her court - and she basically let it deflate.

Because for Natasha, emotions were scary. You'd left the apartment with a promise between you that she would be the one to make the final call.

A month and I'll call you, is she what she had said.

A month and I'll call you, is she what she had promised.

It was a slow month. You didn't hear from Natasha at all; when you went to collect your mail from the apartment, she was out. She barely showed her face at the office these days and her presence on social media was gone. Her name no longer popped up on the viewers list for your Instagram or Snapchat story. There were no more good morning texts.

Then that slow month turned in a slow five weeks. Then six. Then seven. Then two months had passed, and you hadn't heard a single thing.

Not until a cold Monday evening, when you were holed up in your new apartment watching an old episode of Seinfeld. The presence of your friends, paired with old sitcoms, was the only thing getting you through the Natasha-induced drought. A knock on the door only made it worst.

"One second!" you called.

Throwing your blanket aside, you put down your soup and shuffled over to the front door. Out of habit (one that Nat had taught you), you peered through the peephole - your heart practically stopped when you saw a head of red hair and green eyes. It was unmistakably your Natasha.

"Nat," you greeted her with a cold tone as you opened the door. "Fancy you making an appearance."

"I am so sorry," she began. "I just needed time. I needed time to think-"

"- I gave you a month!" you cut her off. "And I would have given you more if...if you had just asked. If you had just spoken to me, or communicated with me."

"I know," she murmured.

"No, Nat," you firmly said. "I don't think you do. I don't think you know at all - about what you're doing or how you're making me feel."

"I..." she trailed off. "I love you."

"You don't fucking act like it," you snorted. "I could deal with at first - all the miscommunications and random disappearances, but I'm done now."

"I just want one more chance - please?"

"No," you snapped. "You've made your bed. Now lie in it."

And she would; she would lie in it alone.

#asks #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x you #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff imagines #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fan fiction #natasha romanoff fic #black widow x reader #black widow imagine #black widow fic #avengers x reader #avengers imagines

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on-maars · 3 years

Text

Parenthood

Finally took the time to write a lil something for buddie again. Hope you’ll like this 🥰

Just Bobby acting like a dad to Eddie and them having a quick chat about his (obvious) feelings for Buck.

Read it on AO3.

Bobby doesn’t usually ask Eddie to help in the kitchen. Not that he doesn’t want it, he just knows that cooking is not exactly Eddie's area of expertise. This is a widely accepted truth among the 118.

Still, when Eddie asks him if he needs a hand in the kitchen this morning, Bobby finds himself nodding and handing him the knife to chop the vegetables while he’s keeping an eye on the meat.

Bobby doesn’t need much time to realize that Eddie’s sudden burst of willingness to cook may have been brought about by ulterior motives; his hand gestures are way too hasty, too sharp and the vegetables start to suffer the consequences, looking more like some kind of puree rather than small squared pieces like he asked him to a few minutes ago.

Bobby doesn’t say anything at first, wondering if it’s his place or not, but he quickly realizes he doesn’t have to. Eddie takes that decision for him a few minutes later by abruptly letting go of the knife, a dull sound resonating inside the living-room. Both Hen and Chim look up at him, share a quick glance with each other and flee the scene without looking back.

“I think I’m gay.” Eddie suddenly says and Bobby raises his eyes at him, wondering why Eddie opened up to him of all people, surely someone like Hen or Michael would be more helpful in the matter. Still, he stays silent and offers him a small smile of encouragement. “Demisexual, too.”

“Okay.” Bobby only answers.

“It means that I-”

“I know what being demisexual means, Eddie.” Bobby cuts in.

“I- I didn’t.” Eddie says, lowering his voice. “I only just found out about it. About everything, in fact. And- there’s a lot of terms, Bobby. It’s- it's a lot.”

“It can be pretty overwhelming at first.” Bobby agrees. “I wouldn’t know half of that stuff if it wasn’t for May and Harry.” He adds.

“Yeah, May was- She was very helpful actually. She was the first person I- I told. She kept sending me these articles afterwards and after a bunch of sleepless nights, it finally started to make sense. Or I mean I- I think it does. I’m still- still trying to figure it out, really.” Eddie asks, letting out a bitter laugh. “I mean, look at me. Coming to terms with my sexuality at age 30, it’s- it’s pathetic. I’m pathetic.”

“You’re not.” Bobby says, his voice determined. “Eddie, there’s no right way to figure out your sexuality just like there’s no right age to come out. And yeah it might be easier for some people but if that’s how you feel today then that’s valid too, Eddie. And these terms… These terms you’re looking for online, they’re only here to help, you do know that right? If you don’t exactly fit in a box, that’s okay too.”

“Yeah, yeah I- I know.” Eddie says, the tone of his voice still uncertain. He picks the knife again and goes on chopping the vegetables, more slowly this time, with more patience, more precision. He doesn’t look at his Captain in his eye, though. Not after what he just said, not after this conversation. And Bobby doesn’t push. He never does. He brings back his attention on the meat instead, turning the steaks so that they cook evenly.

For a few minutes, neither of them say anything. They just sit there, enjoying the silence, enjoying the quiet.

Eddie’s the first one to break it.

“It’s just not something I’ve been exposed to before, you know.” Eddie says. “The way I was raised, the house I grew up in. It’s never been something- something I had the luxury to think about.”

“But this changed.” Bobby finishes for him, smiling softly at Eddie when this one darts his eyes towards him for just a few seconds, looking away just as fast. Bobby can see him put his fingers together into a fist, most likely trying to push through the conversation despite the fear of confiding in someone about something so personal, so intimate.

“How could it not change?” Eddie answers, and Bobby catches him looking softly at the sleeping figure of Buck on the couch.

“You know you should just tell him.”

As soon as these words leave Bobby’s mouth, Eddie looks down, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red as his right hand rubs the skin of the back of his neck. “Tell him what?” He asks and Bobby rolls his eyes at him.

“Tell him how you feel.” Bobby clarifies. “You know he’s only waiting for you to get there.”

Bobby follows his gaze and his own eyes fall on Buck. Buck who’s sleeping on the couch, his mouth slightly agape, a book in his hands.

Bobby knows the kid enough to say with absolute certainty that the book he’s holding most likely focus on whatever topic Christopher is studying at school. It’s not rare for Bobby to find Buck deeply involved in a research spree on the internet, just to be able to talk about it and exchange some interesting facts with Christopher at the end of the day.

“How can you be so sure?” Eddie asks.

“It’s Buck.” Bobby answers so simply, like it’s reason enough. “He’s my kid.”

“How- how long have you known?” He says, his expression quizzical.

“That you two love each other?” Bobby starts, his eyebrows raised. “We all had our doubts. You’ve always been joined at the hip, Eddie. Sure, Buck was more vocal about it than you... You’ve always been quieter, more cautious.” He goes on but quickly adds when Eddie looks up at him with an alarmed expression on his face. “Which is not a bad thing. It’s just the way you are.”

“How could- how could you guys have known for so long?” Eddie asks with a sigh, his eyes still focused on the sleeping form of Buck. “I’ve been… I’ve been so clueless.”

“It’s not a competition, Eddie.” Bobby reminds him. “There’s a very thin line between friendship and relationship. And it doesn’t matter how long it took you to get there, Eddie. Because when you think about it, nothing of what you guys shared and continue to share today is going to change. It’s still gonna be there. You’re still gonna be best-friends before anything else.”

“I guess.” Eddie says, still unsure.

“Nobody’s asking you to tell him now, you know?” Bobby asks. “You can take your time. Let it sink in.”

“No I’m-” Eddie starts, shaking his head. “I’m ready.” He says, his voice determined. “Turns out getting shot really put things into perspective.” He adds, letting out a nervous laugh.

As if electrocuted by Eddie’s words, Buck wakes up with a start, his entire face contorted with what Bobby guesses is fear. He looks around in alarm for a few seconds, his eyes shining with tears, until they both fall on Eddie and his face suddenly softens. The gaze is so soft, so intimate, Bobby almost wants to look away.

Buck approaches the kitchen counter quietly and sits on the chair, running his now shaking hands through his face. His eyes find Eddie again and the older man simply nods and places his left hand on the table, and Bobby realizes that’s simply another one of their non-verbal conversations.

No one in that firehouse had mastered the art of speaking without actually exchanging words more than these two.

Bobby observes Buck as he slowly encircles his best-friend's wrist with his finger, his index and his third finger resting between Eddie’s wrist bone and tendon, no doubt checking his pulse. His hand shakes for a few more seconds but a soft smile eventually stretches up his lips when Eddie intertwines their fingers together.

“You’re okay?” Eddie asks.

“I am, now.” Buck answers, lowering his eyes towards their intertwined fingers. Bobby turns around to take the plates out and give them some privacy. But he can still hear the next few words coming out of Eddie's mouth.

“What was it this time?” He asks.

“The- the shooting. You were dying before I had the chance to drive you to the hospital.”

“Well I’m here now.” Eddie says and Bobby can picture the smile on his face. “We’re okay.”

The conversation flows smoothly after that, Buck helping Bobby and taking over Eddie’s cooking, stating that “no one should have to face food poisoning that early in the day.” Eddie nudges him playfully and takes a seat, checking in with Carla to make sure Christopher is okay at home.

“Did you know that there are more than 120 pyramids in Egypt? Give or take.” He says excitedly and Bobby rolls his eyes at him, not missing the way Eddie’s face softens at his words.

“I did not know that.”

“Crazy, right? And some of their stones weigh more than an Elephant, Bobby! And you know Ancient Egyptians were very big on astronomy and researchers said that they might have used the stars to align their pyramids. Although, I guess we’ll never know for sure cause the alignment of stars is constantly changing, you know, but that’s pretty cool, right?”

“Is Ancient Egypt Christopher’s new passion or Buck’s?” Bobby asks in Eddie’s direction.

“Both, apparently.” Eddie smiles.

“By the way Eds, there’s this Egyptian Museum in San Jose, they say it holds the largest collection of Egyptian artifacts, I thought we could check it out. It’s a five hours car drive, it's a bit long but we could make it work during a week-end maybe. Chris would be thrilled.”

“Sounds like a plan, Evan.” Eddie answers and Bobby frowns, surprised to see that the Evan privileges now seem to have extended and included Eddie. For a few seconds, he wonders whether he’s been slow on the uptake about that sudden advancement in their relationship but then he can see Buck’s face light up and turn a bit redder than usual and Bobby just knows that it’s just another one of these things he will need to get used to.

“Awesome, I’ll look into it, then. I’ll text you the details, alright?” Buck asks and he’s about to reach for his phone in his back-pocket when Eddie finally says those three words.

“I love you.”

Bobby stops stirring the soup and raises his eyes towards Eddie, who seems to have lost all composure.

“I’ll… I’ll let you two talk.” Bobby says. “Buck, you mind keeping an eye on the soup?”

“Uh I- yeah I’ll- I’ll take care of it, Bobby.”

Bobby leaves the kitchen, squeezing Eddie’s shoulder as he goes past him. He locks himself in his office and tries to focus on the most boring part of the job: the paperwork. It only lasts a few minutes, though, his curiosity eventually gets the best of him. From where he’s seated, he can still see Buck, his back facing him. And Bobby is not big on gossip but he’s had to watch these two dance around each other for so long it’s only fair he gets to witness the outcome of three years of unresolved tension, right?

Buck is standing in the kitchen, and from what Bobby can tell, this one hasn’t moved for the past ten minutes, probably focused on what Eddie’s saying or too shocked to say anything. It all changes after a few seconds, though. Buck’s body straightens up but he lowers his head to the ground, and Bobby doesn’t need to be standing next to him to picture the sheepish smile stretching up his lips.

He knows he’s right when Buck raises his eyes again, changing his position in such a way Bobby can now see his face. His eyes are warm, his expression soft and the captain of the 118 finally decides to look away when Eddie appears in his field of vision, cupping Buck’s cheeks with his hands and pressing their lips together.

A small smile breaks in on his face and he opens the first top left drawer of his desk, his right hand grasping the document that’s been gathering dust for soon to be three years:

Personal relationship disclosure form

#my writing #buddie #buddie fic #9-1-1 #911 #buck x eddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #bobby nash

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scriptaed · 3 years

Text

bygones of the sun. 08 (m)

genre: angst/fluff/(future)smut || dance captain!hoseok, bad boy!au, uni!au

pairing: reader x hoseok;

length: 4.6k;

synopsis: Jung Hoseok was once the sweetheart of the school, the dance captain whom every girl, including you, can’t help but fall head over heels for. But like the force of the ever-glowing sun, everything that rises must also set. A year of inactivity later and he’s now the school’s resident bad boy. You’re a firm believer of allowing the past be the past, and yet you can’t help but wonder where the risen sun has gone into hiding—because perhaps its shadows have out-shined its own radiance.

Regardless of the endless praying in the waking hours of midnight and desperate texts to Hani and Junghwa for help, the sun rises nevertheless; rather than replacing, the radiant glow of the sun blinds the darkness of the cold night into nearly nonexistence and the morning comes along with it in an inevitable solar system bound to revolve around its center.

After hours of rolling around in bed—too hot, kick one leg out over your blankets, too cold, bury yourself under the heat you had insulated from tossing and turning—you manage to barely get in a few hours of sleep before waking up only to look into the mirror in dismay over the dark circles drooping under your eyes.

Well, at least that might turn Hoseok off from doing whatever the needy, mischievous, and maybe even horny bad boy deprived of action side of him did to you last night.

A few splashes of fresh, cold water in the sink of your motel room and a messy albeit best bun you could every tie up are all that you figure you would need before marching off into the dining hall just three flights of stairs down; after all, who are you trying to impress? Certainly not Hoseok…

...or at least that’s what you tell yourself; because nevertheless, even after chanting to yourself under your breath that you would do everything and anything to avoid garnering his attention today, and perhaps the rest of eternity, you still take a quick glance in the mirror to assure yourself that your casual black tank top and gray sweatpants are of at least a presentable state. Maybe it’s the lack of sleeping getting to you or maybe it’s the adrenaline mixed with shock from last night’s incident with the boy you’ve been dreaming of since last year that endorses your self confidence that you smile at yourself after a quick scan in the floor length mirror and proceed to skip your way down into the first floor of the niche motel where Jimin had informed you last night that he and the rest of the boys would be getting breakfast.

As you jog down the stairs like a child on the eve of Christmas, you find yourself subconsciously humming to an oh-so-familiar tune; although you can’t quite put a finger on the exact title of the track, the image, the senses, the serenity that comes along with the nostalgic tune floods you into a timeless reverie. An earphone plugged in your right ear while the laughs of others and the tires rolling against the gravel rushes into your left, you can practically feel the cotton of a sweater wrapping you in warmth along with a crisp, spicy masculine scent as you lay your head against the comfortable crook of someone’s shoulder. The squeaking of broken in sneakers against the hardwood floor and the beats of the track echoing in a vast, empty room. You can imagine it all, evidently too real to be conjured up in your head.

“Y/N! Over here!” Taehyung’s voice snaps you out of your daze. Stepping a foot into the relatively small, cozy dining room, the enticing aroma of warm soup mixed with traditional spices and herbs fill your nose and state of mind as it pulls your growling stomach closer than ever. You find Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jimin already decked out in workout attire as they seated themselves with three other less familiar faces before you quickly skid your way to their table. Taehyung flashes you his signature warm, boxy smile, “morning!”

“Good morning,” you press a smile at the five other greetings which follow shortly after.

“Oh?” Jungkook quirks a brow and you reciprocate his gestures. “You’re pretty dressed up today, Y/N.”

“Dressed up?” you nearly choke, eyes popping at your supposedly exact opposite intentions. “Uh no, no, I just threw on whatever I found first in my luggage. Dressing up is the last thing I wanted.”

“Uhuh,” Taehyung drawls, winking at his partner in crime Jungkook. “So, who’s the lucky boy? Is it someone you met at camp yesterday?”

You sigh, “I don’t have my eye on anyone—”

“—oh my God,” both Taehyung and Jungkook gasps, gaping and turning their head in sync, “is it Hoseok?”

“What?” you nearly yell and it feels like your heart is about to fail you. “No!”

“I know we were the ones who asked you to talk to him and convince him to return to the club, but that’s only because we heard you two were a thing… or that you two went out on some dates. But you said you guys didn’t, so…” Jungkook’s voice trails off as he ponders over the rather imaginative albeit somewhat accurate thoughts of his, whereas Taehyung picks up where he left off, “did you catch feelings? Or did you already have feelings for him? You know, how did you convince him to attend camp anyways?”

You gulp. There’s no way you’re telling them the absurd offer Hoseok had proposed, a kiss in exchange for his presence, not to mention the fact that you actually gave him what he wanted and more. The recalling of the tender scene in the kitchen flushes your cheeks to rosy hues as you mumble, “I just begged him until he was too annoyed to decline.”

The boys glance at each other in wariness before Jimin chuckles to break the silence, “where is Hoseok anyways? I told him to meet us here last night, but he left me on read. Do you know what happened to him, Y/N?”

“Huh? Me? Hoseok?” you say louder than intended.

The grim look on his face after he had unexpectedly pulled you in for a session you could only imagine in your dreams just a year ago, when he answered your last question, when you turned your back and left him in the jacuzzi out of shock flashes before your eyes; regardless of having witnessed the sudden change in Hoseok’s demeanor, even you can’t quite explain the reasoning behind it. You thought you were done worrying for him throughout the entirety of last night, however, now that everything around you seems to always come back to Hoseok, you can’t help but wonder what you can do to help him… despite how much he has changed.

“Oh, there he is,” Jimin calls out and your entire body freezes in place, too scared to turn around and face him after last night. “Hoseok—”

“—Y/N,” you can hear the familiar voice of his as his low uttering resonates in your ear and rumbles throughout your chest.

You take a deep breath and gulp, pretending as if you had heard a apparition and turning to grab a plate and utensil to fetch some steamed vegetables in the hotpot placed in the middle of the wooden table.

“Y/N,” Hoseok mutters sternly. You can see his maroon tee and grey sweatpants in the corner of your eyes while Jimin glances between you and Hoseok as the latter takes a step closer to you. “Y/N, we need to talk. I’m sorry about last night. Please, at least listen to what I have to say—”

“—I see we have hot pot for breakfast today,” you interject, turning to Jimin and stuffing your mouth with boiled food which burns your mouth, but not before blurting, “kind of unusual, but I’m not complaining. Thanks for the meal.”

Hoseok sighs, looking the other way in lack of amusement for a split second before placing his hand on your shoulder, “Y/N—”

“—actually, Y/N, guys,” Jimin cuts in and gently extracts Hoseok’s hand from your shoulder. “Hoseok and I have to discuss our plans for today and the rest of the camp. You guys eat first and we’ll join you afterwards in the practice room.”

With that, Jimin ushers Hoseok out of the dining hall, dragging him forward as your eyes briefly lock with Hoseok’s as he reluctantly looks over his shoulder to glimpse at you for a few times. A part of you pangs with guilt for blatantly ignoring him like that, especially since you could sense the sincerity in his apology, but it was just too soon, too awkward for you; and while you know Hoseok as a person completely unaffected by the public’s eye, you’re less than willing to review last night’s moment of intimacy in front of the other boys.

One of the boys clears his throat to break the silence, and everyone turns to stare at him wide-eyed. Chestnut hair and tan skin, you manage to recall him as one of the main albeit in need of Hoseok’s guidance members, Namjoon. He reaches his hand out to firmly shake yours before gesturing for you to take a seat next to him on the wooden bench, “I don't think I've ever introduced myself yet. I'm Namjoon. I've heard a lot about you… Y/N?”

“Yeah, Y/N. That's the name,” you grin and seat yourself next to Namjoon. “It's nice I'm finally meeting the oh-so-popular dance group of our school.”

The boys chuckle at your remark when the rather fair skinned, blond and petite albeit carrying a mien years more mature than boys his age leans forward next to Namjoon to give you a pressed smile and a small wave, “the name's Yoongi.”

“And I'm Jin,” the boy across from you and next to Taehyung and Jungkook waves both jointy hands at you before digging his chopsticks into the shared pot and chiming, “now let's eat already. I'm starving here!”

The rest of breakfast passes by smoothly as you and the boys laugh over small talk and gather your things to head over to the first practice session of the day. While Taehyung and Jungkook went to find Jimin, you stayed behind with Namjoon, Jin, and Yoongi. Although they’re not as energetic and bubbly as the other three, you soon find your new friends to be just as dorky as they goof off and even tease Hoseok as he leads the practice through stretches and choreograph; but even through all the teasing and giggling, Hoseok never seems to lose his cool over something which happened all too much back in his days as the captain, for he simply rolls his eyes and directs his attention elsewhere.

Everything passes by smoothly, or at least you think, because shortly after laughing at Jin’s less than sufficient, duck-with-a-broken-leg looking spin, you become determined to show him how it’s properly done before placing one leg over the other and somehow managing to trip over your own feet in midspin. It all happens too fast for you to register, but what you do recall is your right foot twisting at the weirdest of angles, sending a crack echoing in your vicinity and a spike of pain traveling from your feet up as your body tumbles to the floor. You’re grasping at your ankle and hissing at the wincing pain still numbed by adrenalin when you look up from the ground to suddenly find Hoseok right next to you after having dropped all things and rushed to your side, scanning you up and down in worry while the rest of the boys peer over at you from behind Hoseok in sympathy.

And the next thing you know, you find yourself hoisted into the air as Hoseok carries you in his firm arms out of the dance room. The spur of the moment prohibits you from protesting, for all you can do is lie there and peer up at Hoseok in complete awe. You don’t know if it’s the return of the glimmer in his eyes when times of crisis lures out the former captain in him, but the stern, serious and worried expression of his furrowed brows and pressed lips enables you to put your full trust in him. The Hoseok you’re looking at now is more capable than you’ve ever seen him before; war scars, adversities, sympathy and empathy, he’s gone through it all.

The fact that he doesn’t even notice you ogling your eyes at him, or at least the fact that he chooses not to comment on it, only further supports your observation as he carefully lays you on the floor of the empty hall right outside the practice room where a vending machine remains buzzing throughout the silence.

“So,” Hoseok finally says, your eyes widening and darting up to stare at him as his own line of sight remains on the first aid kit and your swelling ankle. “Mind explaining to me how this happened?”

“I… um…” you mumble; something about his new mien akin to a stern captain tells you to be cautious of how you answer. “I accidentally tripped—”

“—tell me the truth,” Hoseok deadpans, glimpsing up from your injury to lock eyes with you and you swear your heart had never panicked more.

Clearing your throat, you bashfully look down at the ground in shame, “okay, fine. I was playing around with Jin and lost my focus, which caused me to trip midspin.”

A few seconds of silence pass, and it feels like an hour of intense pondering over endless penalties or scolding are running through his unamused eyes before he finally sighs and his body language along with his aura softens, “really? You tripped because of that? How clumsy can you be? I used to encourage everyone to dance if they wanted to, but maybe it’s safer if I don’t do the same with you. You really aren’t cut out to be a dancer.”

“...well, sorry I’m not as good as you,” you mumble and pout when you recall the contradiction between what he’s saying to you now and what he had to said to you a year ago.

Another moment of silence passes, and whether it’s from exhaustion having practiced for an hour and a half or from this entire stressful situation playing out right before you, you can feel beads of sweat trickling down your temple.

“No,” Hoseok finally utters as he wraps a roll of cloth tape bandage over your throbbing ankle. He follows his statement without looking up at you, “I should be the one apologizing. I’m sorry about last night. Whether you liked it or not, I shouldn’t have forced myself on you. I don’t really have the explanation you deserve, so an apology is all I can give right now.”

His words freeze you in place. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him as genuine and serious as he is now, at least not since the tense moment you two had shared in his car after your first date with him. You don’t what to say, because it’s not like you’re mad at him. You’re completely worried over his mental well-being, and the grim look on his face only worries you more.

“It’s okay. I understand and I forgive you,” you meekly say, and you can hear a soft sigh of relief escape his slightly curved lips.

He continues wrapping your leg until your ankle is fixed into the right position and the bandage prohibits you from moving it for as long as it’s on while you intently gaze at him out of your subconscious. Sweat thinning his bangs and dripping from its ends, his chest rises steadily with each intake of breath as his eyes and focus completely fixates on your injury. It takes you a while to notice and admit, but your foot isn’t the only thing swelling, for your heart swelters and grows tender at the sight of him.

Unlike the bad boy demeanor of Hoseok you had come to know, there’s something so attractive about a boy who’s ambitious enough to reach for the skies, tough on the outside but soft to the weak, and stubborn but willing to own up to his mistakes. This isn’t the dance captain you had fallen for in the dance studio last year. This is a mix of all the unknowns and wonders of the universe, the sun and the moon collided into one.

Why does he have such an effect on you?

Why are you so weak to someone as confusing as him?

Why can’t you convince yourself that the only persona of his you’ll ever like is the one you had fallen for back then?

It’s as if the mystical moment when the sun reached its zenith high in the sky and its rays showered upon you and him in the midst of the night fallen dance room refuses to leave the back of your mind?

“You know,” Hoseok lowly states, finally trailing his eyes up to find your own wide ones before cracking a smug grin, “I can take you out to dinner as an apology, if you’d like.”

You scoff, jaw slacking wide open, “uh, no thanks. I wouldn’t have been so careless and gotten myself injured if I knew this was the comforting I was going to receive.”

“The ‘if you’d like’ part isn’t a question. It’s mandatory,” Hoseok chuckles before the stern look on his face returns along with the lopsided, pressed smile. “But as much as it pains me to hear that, I’m glad to hear you won’t be so reckless anymore.”

The deafening silence filled with the buzz of the vending machine behind him pushes you to finally address the thought that had kept you up late into the night. “Hoseok,” you utter, and maybe it’s the tone of pity or concern he spots in your voice, but his head and his eyes remain lowered to the ground. “Is something bothering you? Are you okay? Yesterday… you didn’t seem… right.”

Hoseok then settles into stillness, even his fingers stop in the midst of tying a knot in the bandages; but after a couple of more dreadful seconds, he resumes the work at hand without looking up at you. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he mutters before tying the knot and lightly patting your foot to signal the completion of your treatment. He glances up at you and gives you a small smile, “Be more careful next time, okay? For the sake of my poor heart, please stop being so clumsy.”

You snort and lean back with hands planted flat on the ground behind you, “I only sprained my ankle. You’re acting like I broke my leg or something.”

“You might’ve just sprained your ankle this time, but that’s because you lucked out,” he shakes his head. Then, his eyes flicker to gaze straight into yours, as if speaking from the heart, “injuries can be detrimental to dancers, and I know I said you’re not cut out to be a dancer, but if you really want to dance or even remain in this world with me, then please be more careful. Alright?”

“...okay, but be in the same ‘world with you?’ Please, don’t flatter yourself,” you refute, and he chuckles. “Plus, I’m not a dancer.”

Hoseko sits back with his hands spread out on either side of him, planted on the hardwood floor. He cocks his head to the side along with a brow, “who says?”

“You.”

“I was just messing around with you as always. You know that I don’t mean it.”

“But I bet you really meant it. Most of the newcomers aren’t even half as good as you,” you remark. Seeing how swell the mood had become, you decide to test the waters. “In fact, you’re probably thinking I’m just another one of those silly girls who always watched you in dance practice and is hoping for you to make a return.”

Hoseok raises a brow and chuckles with minimum effort, “I never said that.”

“But dancers are…” you struggle to find the right phrase, “dancers are like… you.”

Silence ensues as he watches you with a void hole in his eyes and an amused smile dancing in the corner of his lips.

“Hm…” he hums and lolls his head back and around the other side of his neck. “How so?”

His question catches you off guard, because while the Hoseok you had gotten to know would have gotten irritated and brushed off your question, this Hoseok seems intrigued by your constant pestering.

What should you do? Should you really tell him how you felt? About how you were one of those silly girls who watched him during dance practice? About how you had fallen head over heels in love with the old him?

This is all or nothing; and while something in your gut tells you not to, the irrational part of you follows the spur of the moment and decides to embark on a final mission to retrieve the sun that had long fallen and given rise to the dark night.

“I don’t know… I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s… it’s something about the way you dance. When you dance,” your brows knit as you struggle with your words, but Hoseok remains still as he patiently waits for you to finish your thought, “it’s like the entire room lights up in your presence. Even at night with the shades closed, you manage to somehow brighten the room, as if… as if you’re the embodiment of the sun itself.”

Hoseok maintains his silence, so you continue to fill up the awkward aftermath of your confession.

“You probably don’t get what I’m saying, but it just amazes me what you can do with your dance,” the more you speak, the more you can envision the enlightening moment you had first taken a peek through the cracks of the dance room’s door, “when people watch you dance it’s like the sun revolves around you and time slows, manipulated even, because you’ve suddenly become the center of the universe.”

Getting ahead of yourself, you decide to shut your mouth where you had stopped and fold your hands uncomfortably in your lap as you sheepishly stare the ground; you can feel the piercing gaze of his boring a hole into the top of your head.

“You’re right, you’re not a dancer; you’re a God damn poet,” Hoseok snorts, averting his eyes as he chortles at your splurge of awe-inspiring words before returning to lock his eyes with yours, a mix of amusement and lack of amusement, maybe even irritation, filling the dark orbs of his irises. “You know, you sound awfully like one of those girls who’d always watch me at practice back in the days… sometimes makes me wonder who you really are what your purpose is. Tell me, why are you trying to get me to dance again?”

With the tick of the clock’s hand, the entire world turns upside down. The soft, empathetic Hoseok had dissipated and the curious yet mysterious bad boy had returned. Even with warm, yellow lights illuminating the hallways, all you can see is pitch black and all you can feel is the wrath of the cold at being caught red handed.

Does he know? Or is he merely speculating? You had completely forgotten his previous more than suspicious speculations regarding your identity, but now all of it has resurfaced once again.

“...what?” you barely manage to utter.

And out of the blue, your world reverts to its normal state like the flick of a lightbulb. The warmth of his pressed smile and the shake of his head brings you back into relief, but your panicking heart never fails to initiate the flight-or-fight response in your veins.

“Nothing,” Hoseok laughs and pats your ankle once again before standing up. “There, all wrapped up and good to go. I’ve got errands to run. I’ll see you later, then.”

The extended conversation proves to be rather taxing when you stumble over your own foot the second you get up. Figuring your wrapped ankle and lightheaded state would only hinder you further, you decide to skip the rest of practice and retreat back to your room.

Complete darkness envelops you into a dazed state of mind as you awaken from what you discover to be a lengthy nap. Your entire room is pitch black, your head throbs along with your ankle, and you can barely weave your way through your room without stubbing a toe on a furniture hidden in the dark. Your eyes peep open, dry and heavy as if weights were suspended on the edges of your lids, and you clear your throat in a futile attempt to rid the sore scratches of its walls. Unfortunately for you, water isn’t one of the many things you had packed on this trip, so you grab your wallet and keys and stumble your way down to the vending machine.

With each step deeper into the dark halls illuminated by the moonlight pouring into the windows which lines the wooden walls, your consciousness becomes clearer and clearer and your senses begin to pick up things that had only been registered as blurs; the patters of your footsteps, the chirps of the crickets high in the mountains, the buzz of the vending machine, and the distant groans echoing from down the hall…

...the groans and hisses of pain which shouldn’t have even resonated in the halls hours past midnight.

Whether it be a member of the club breaking the rules, an employee of the motel, or maybe even an outsider intruding upon private property, your pulse races at the thought of someone within the vicinity of you. Crouching low, you cautiously and ever-so-slowly tiptoe as much as your injured foot could muster towards the dance room where the noises are coming from.

A few squeaks of sneakers inciting friction between itself and the polished, wooden floor are followed by ample panting and heaving before one last loud squeak and a pitiful yelp which tugs at your heartstrings—collapse.

The sympathetic side of you kicks you into action, and just as you’re about to go running into the room at full speed to aid the person in need, the sight which lies ahead keeps you locked behind the doorway—eerily similar to the past you, peering into the dance room and fearing confrontation…

...except this time, there’s nothing so enchanting about what lies before you.

Something in your stomach falls, pain gnawing away at your gut as if to tell you you should have known. Fallen, head low, chest heaving and lips grunting. Pitiful, vulnerable, helpless, turned against the wrath of the entire world. No one can understand him. No one can feel the mental and physical pain he’s experiencing right now.

The moonlight floods through the windows and showers the sun rays which contaminate him of the looming past until all that remains are the shadows of the facade of the old him he had tried to put up for the sake of you throughout camp. Alas, the full moon reaches its zenith tonight and there’s something about its blinding presence which tells you it’ll be a while before you see the sun.

Teeth gritted and jaws clenched, he crawls his body back against the mirror walls and curls into a state of vulnerability you had never seen before in the tough Hoseok you knew and had reluctantly fallen for; but the thing is, this isn’t that Hoseok. The boy brings one of his legs into his chest and his hands grab helplessly at his lower swelling leg, groaning in pain.

The only reason he isn’t dancing anymore is simpler than you would’ve ever thought. It can’t be the complete story, for the only thing you could see outside of his flooded, frantic mind is the sudden revelation that the only reason he isn’t dancing anymore is because he can’t; however, what lies underneath is of utmost complexity akin to the origin of the sun, the moon, and the universe itself.

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