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itsbeeble · 1 year

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Sour

Summary: Your story began with sour candies, and it’ll end just the same

Genre: Smut, angst

WC: ~1.9k

Pairing: song mingi x afab!reader

Warnings: small smut scene, Mingi is horny tbh, hurt and no comfort, alcohol mentions (wooyoung is drunk)

ALL PARTS: pt 1: Sour | pt 2: Bittersweet | pt 3: Tangy | true ending | alt ending

Your story began in a convenience store, over a bag of sour candy. It was a Sunday night, the day before your finals began during freshman year of college. You’d shared a class together, Calculus, but never shared a word amongst each other. That night you in the convenience store had sparked…something. Something that even you weren’t quite sure about.

You’d been in your pajamas, just sweatpants and a sweatshirt with your hair tied back so you looked somewhat presentable to the public roaming the streets at the stroke of midnight. The straw for your half empty iced Americano rested against your lower lip, your eyes focused on the candies in front of you. He came up beside you, dressed in a tight black shirt and loose cargo pants, saying nothing to let you know he was there until he reached for a pack of sour gummy worms. His deep, gravelly voice startles you out of your thoughts.

“I say go for these,” he says, flicking the package before grabbing it off the shelf. “They taste good, not too sour and not too sweet.” You turned your exhausted gaze to the tall man with fiery hair and headphones half covering his ears. There was a small smile on his lips, one that offered little comfort to you.

“What if I didn’t want something sour?” Mingi just shrugs and begins to walk away.

“Up to you, really. I just figured I’d give you my opinion.” You follow him to the register, the same bag of sour candies in your hands. He glances down at you, his smile growing just slightly as the tired young cashier rings him out, and he waits for you while the cashier rings out your candy.

“Why are you up, anyway,” your fingers rip open that small blue bag easily while you two walk back to the dorm buildings.

“Studying, mostly.”

“Song Mingi?” You say in mock shock. “Studying? I never thought I’d see the day!” The taller boy laughs loudly, and you can’t help but laugh with him. It was true, though. In your class he always had his head down and the professor learned to just leave him alone during everything except exams, where he’d somehow excel. She didn’t need to know that you’d been leaving him a copy of your notes on his desk at the beginning of the next class all semester. In fact, he doesn’t need to know that either.

“Well, I never thought I’d see the girl who leaves me all of her very well organized notes stressing over a final that should be a breeze for her.” He counters, leaning down to you and nudging your shoulder. Your cheeks flush, and you turn your gaze away from him.

“You knew?”

“You do know that I was never actually asleep, right?”

“Coulda fooled me, Mingi.”

“I do appreciate it, though.” You look at him again, and he’s still looking down at you. His arm brushes against yours, but neither feel the urge to drift back away from each other. “I need to repay you, somehow.”

“It’s not a big deal.” You shake your head, and he hums.

You probably should’ve known it then. Should’ve known that getting mixed up with Mingi might not have been the best idea you’ve ever had. But fuck, if the way he fucked you didn’t feel like heaven on Earth.

The first time he fucked you, he had your back pinned against his chest, one of his feet planted firmly on his mattress, his hips pounding into you from behind. His hands pinched and tugged at your erect nipples, his face tucked into your neck as he sucked dark marks into your skin. Broken moans fell from your lips, your vision swimming with pleasure that built itself up and up, seeming to never stop. Your warm walls fluttered around his cock, squeezing him tightly every time he pulled his hips back only to thrust back into you harder and faster than he had been.

Your hair stuck to your skin, your hands flailing and reaching for something, anything to hold onto to ground yourself. One of your hands fell to his hair, gripping it tightly and forcing a low groan from his throat. He pulls away from your neck, lips finding your own and you can taste the hint of sour gummies on his tongue when you suck it into your mouth. You let him lick into your mouth, practically shoving his tongue down your throat with how furiously he kissed you, but you didn’t mind.

You probably enjoyed it a bit too much, his cock abusing that spongey spot inside of you, his heavy balls slapping against your ass, one of his hands slipping down to play with your clit. The stimulation is enough to send you over the edge, spasming around him and crying out against his lips. His orgasm arrives soon after your own, thick ropes of warm cum spilling against your walls and spilling out of you while he continues to fuck you until the overstimulation becomes too much for you.

It becomes a regular thing for you both, fucking each other whenever you get the chance. You both have become…something that you can’t quite name. Not quite exclusive, but not fucking anyone other than each other throughout the next few years. It confuses you, to say the least, the fact that you’re both beginning your senior year in college and still don’t have a label.

Although now, as you sit with your body splayed across his lap and a bag of sour candies being shared between you two at a party neither of you could care less about and your fingers tangled in his bark hair, you can’t find yourself caring. Not when the kisses he places against your throat have your body thrumming with arousal. He doesn’t care that your friends are right in front of you, doesn’t care that Hongjoong keeps trying to get him to keep his hands to himself. All he sees, feels, hears, smells, and tastes is you. All he cares about is you, and the way you’re running your hand up and down his toned arm.

“You two,” Wooyoung slurs with a plastic cup in his hand. “Are kinda gross.” He squints at you, pouting when he notices that neither of you are really paying attention to him. Your peer over at him, an eyebrow raised as he stumbles to the couch and sits next to San. You feel your eyes starting to flutter when Mingi sucks at a spot underneath your ear, your grip on his arm tightening a bit. You feel him smile against your skin.

“Mingi,” Seonghwa’s voice is sharp. His eyes are narrowed as he looks at you both. Anger. Is that what the emotion is? The emotion in his eyes, his fists tightening at his sides. Yunho sits next to him, more uncomfortable than angry. “Can I talk to you for a second?” Your…lover? Friend? Partner? Whatever he is. He sighs against you, reluctantly pulling himself away from your skin and sliding you off of his lap to follow Seonghwa and Yunho further into the house.

That should’ve been your first warning for the night.

The second should’ve been Hongjoong’s pitying look toward you every few moments while you talk with Jongho about one of the classes you share, the excitement for your final year in college.

Your third and final warning, the one you listened to.

“I’m glad Mingi won the bet.”

All eyes turn to Wooyoung, the drunken man completely unbothered by his sudden declaration. There’s a mixture of emotions now. Confusion on your behalf, panic on everyone else’s.

“What?” Hongjoong tries to shush the younger boy, but he’s persistent.

“The bet!” He chirps. “You know, if Mingi got you to sleep with him, then he’d get $100 from each of us? Didn’t he tell you?”

It’s like the whole room goes silent. You feel the tears welling up in your eyes. You feel the horror and the realization setting in as you figure out what exactly Wooyoung just told you. What your friends had been hiding for so long. Though, could you really call them your friends now? Now that they’ve told you the truth?

Your eyes search the house for Mingi, and you find him already looking at you. You can’t read the emotions in his eyes, but you can see him gnawing at his lip and his eyebrows furrowing while Seonghwa yells at him about something. It makes sense now. Why he didn’t want to put a label on you two.

In hind sight, you should’ve seen it. Although, how could you have? He always seemed like a nice guy. Always helped you if you were struggling with something, always brought you those stupid fucking sour gummies. You were completely blinded by the idea of someone showing you true affection for once that you couldn’t see the pity behind his friends’ eyes.

“Y/N.”

You don’t turn around when he calls your name. His voice cracks and trembles when he speaks. You can’t help but scoff, but you put on a brave face before you turn around. You plaster a smile onto your lips, your wipe the tears away from your eyes and pray that you can hold yourself together long enough to talk to him and get out of there, to take your car and run far, far away.

“I’m sorry.” He takes a step toward you, but the step you take back makes his stumble and freeze in his place. His hands are shaking, a far cry from the confidence he always seems to radiate.

“It’s okay,” you force the words out, digging the nail of your thumb into your palm to keep the tears back. “I’m not mad.” You see him clench his jaw, see him start to stretch his hand out to you.

“You should be.”

“You’re right.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that.” The tears are starting to well up again and you take a deep breath, turning your gaze away from him. “At least you got a good fuck out of all this, you know?” The laugh you let out turns into a sob, and you put a hand over your mouth to muffle it, to try and calm your breathing enough to continue speaking. Mingi takes another step forward, and then another, grabbing onto your hand before you can get too far from him.

“That’s not— that isn’t why I did this!” You stare at him in disbelief.

“So why then? Why did you make the bet in the first place?” There’s no answer from him, and you bite down on your tongue. You pull your hand out of his grip, and he lets you walk away.

There’s a sour feeling boiling in your gut, and as soon as your car door shuts, you allow it to spill over. The sobs free themselves, and you let the tears run down your cheeks.

A breakdown. One you’ll have to handle on your own this time. No one to bring over snacks and drinks while you watch stupid movies and cuddle on your couch. No friends to fall back on when you need help. Nothing.

You’re back at the beginning again.

Alone.

#kpop #kpop imagines #kpop angst #kpop smut #ateez #ateez imagines #ateez angst #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez mingi #ateez mingi x reader #itsbeeble #itsbeeble masterlist #song mingi #mingi smut #mingi imagines #song mingi imagines #song mingi angst #mingi angst

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bratzforchris · 6 months

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Latin and Pentagrams

Summary ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆: A night of studying turns into something much darker when you stumble upon an old Latin book and end up summoning something less than human

Pairing: Demon!Calum x feminine!reader

Warnings: 18+ content (this is much darker than my other works, minors dni!!!!!), horror/scary themes, religious-ish imagery, teratophilia (attraction to monsterfucking/non human characters), fingering/handjobs (f and m receiving), p in v, orgasm denial, size kink, overstimulation, pet names, thigh riding, temporary body modification, fluffy ending (i think that's all but let me know if i missed something!)

Word Count: 7.4k

Note: This is much different than what I normally write, so I hope you all enjoy! This was somewhat inspired by my conversation with a friend a few days ago about taking AP Latin in high school so! Inspiration! I plan on trying to get a few more Halloween fics up 😈

☾

“I actually can’t believe you’re studying tonight, Y/N.” Your best friend, Gaia, said, rolling her eyes and giving you a light, playful shove.

“I have a big Latin exam tomorrow,” You sighed. “You know that.”

“You can have one night of fun, Y/N.” she said, giving you the “pleaseeeeee” eyes.

“Latin is my hardest subject. Besides, I hate parties. I’d rather enjoy Halloween with a candy bar and some movies.” You mumbled, running your finger across the stick-and-poke pentagram tattoo you’d given yourself in eleventh grade.

All your life, you had adored travel and studying the history and culture of other places. The day you’d gotten the offer to exchange at University of St. Andrews in Scotland was probably the best day you’d ever had. But there were days, like right now, where you wondered if it was worth the sacrifice. You didn’t get “breaks” as an exchange student, especially if you went to a university as prestigious as this one. Being a History major, with a minor in Classics, wasn’t quite the field for going easy on the studying. You would’ve loved to go to a smaller Halloween party with Gaia and a few other friends, but in your head, duty called.

“All Hallows Eve, you mean? Be a proper Scot.” she chuckled in her Scottish accent.

“Yeah, sorry. See you tomorrow?” You offered, shoving your glasses up the bridge of your nose.

It was beginning to grow dark and the chilly, crisp breeze was blowing the orange and red leaves across the damp sidewalk, creating the perfect autumnal and slightly bewitching aura for the night. You two had been sitting on the steps of the main campus library, discussing your classes, the upcoming holidays and everything in between, but now, you could see the urge to go party etching itself onto your friend’s face.

“Duh,” Gaia giggled, standing up and giving you a hug. “You going in there to study?” she questioned, craning her head towards the giant, regal-looking, cobblestone building.

“Yeah…” You gnawed on your lip, antsy to get to your studying. “It’s the only place that has the books I need.”

“Well, don’t get to summoning any demons or spirits tonight,” she booped your nose. “When you do the ‘o, s, t, -mus, -tis, -nt’ thing for present tense endings it sounds like a fuckin’ pagan chant.”

“I won’t, I promise,” You hoisted your backpack up onto your shoulder. “Now, go have fun.” You turned Gaia’s shoulders so that she could march down the stone steps.

She waved goodbye to you, hurrying down the steps and across the quad. As you watched her leave, a feeling itched its way into your skin, burying deep inside your bones. It wasn’t quite melancholy, but you felt yourself wishing that you could tag along to the parties, even if you didn’t enjoy them all that much.

You shook your head, getting rid of all those angsty thoughts. Giving your tattoo a quick rub with the top of your pointer finger, you marched up the stairs and unlocked the door, walking into the library, breathing in the smell of carpet and old, musty books. Being a student employee had its benefits some days, and access to the library after hours and on holidays was definitely one of them. You flicked on the light by the front desk and sat down, taking it all in for a few moments before pulling out your supplies.

The library was old and had the aire of a medieval castle or church, what with its stained glass windows, large chandeliers over every table, and beautiful, soaring woodwork carvings. You kicked your old, crusty Converse up onto the desk and chuckled as you replayed Gaia’s warnings in your head. Maybe it was the difference in growing up in Scotland versus your American upbringing, but she was always much more superstitious and believed in the supernatural more than you did.

For some reason, you remembered that old legend she had told you when you were a new student last year, something about how devil worshippers used to use this very library for their secret meetings back when the university first opened in the 1400s. You could almost believe now as you lit the candle on the desk with a lighter from your back pocket. The flame cast the desk in an eerie, orange glow, which added to the ambience of the flickering chandelier over table three and the blacked-out back of the library where you hadn’t turned the lights on yet.

You shook the thoughts from your head and pulled your laptop and books from your bag. The last thing you needed right now was to get off track because you were thinking about some silly legends. You began to run through your conjugations and tenses, reciting the lines to yourself. The Latin rolled off your tongue making you sound rather scholarly and a bit haunting if you said so yourself.

“Ugh.” You grumbled when you reached the portion of the study guide on the history of Latin and paganism.

You threw the book down on the desk rather angrily, but couldn’t help the smile that crossed your face when you read the bit about Latin in pagan chants and then looked down at the pentagram tattoo. It had been stupid at first, you poking the design into your skin just for the aesthetic. But now, the more you studied, the more you felt connected to the art. You decided to take a break from the studying, pulling your phone from your pocket and opening up Tumblr. The first thing you saw when you opened the app was a rather scandalous fanart as the header for someone’s fanfic. It showed a feminine reader fucking with a rather monstrous, demonic-looking creature. You smirked and bit your lip, crossing your thighs. You’d never tell anyone else, but monsterfucking was your guilty pleasure when it came to kink. There was just something about someone who wasn’t from this world using you for their own pleasure that turned you on.

You sometimes wondered what that would actually be like. Would it be the same as fucking with a human? You shook your head and clicked your phone off, placing it face down on the desk. Standing up and stretching, you looked around the library. It was almost the perfect setting for Halloween night. You looked down at your abandoned textbook, remembering what you’d told Gaia about the books in here. Maybe you did need a different book to help you study.

You pushed around the desk and trailed down the aisles of the library, using your phone as a flashlight, until you came to the 600s section where the university kept their history books. You stooped, running your pointer finger along the spines of the books. There were so many here that you could easily spend all night studying, but you knew you had found a perfect book when your finger landed on a thick, leather-bound book, spine inlaid with gold plating.

You pulled it out, staring at the soft, leather cover. It didn’t have a title, simply a pentagram on it in gold that matched the spine. You sunk down, leaning your back against the bookshelf as you flipped the cover open. The pages were browned, stained, and written on parchment. You gnawed on your lip as you realized that this was a true, historical book. You flipped past the cover page and shined your flashlight on the back side. There, in swirly, beautiful cursive it read “authored 1416” by someone whose name you couldn’t make out.

Why did your school’s library have this historical gem among the other, modern books? You shrugged, brushing it off and flipping through the book. The first few pages didn’t particularly catch your eye, just lines upon lines of Latin, as well as crude sketches of the gods. All stuff you had looked at and read before. You sighed, randomly flipping to the middle of the book. You felt a calling to that section for some reason. Maybe it was your boredom, or maybe it was the Halloween spirit bewitching you to do something different. You could see as you looked out the window while flipping the pages that it was completely dark now. The moon was high and full in the sky. You were definitely one for the aesthetics, and this was the perfect Halloween setting.

Finally, you reached the middle of the book. It had taken you a while to turn the pages because they were such delicate parchment, but now, the image before you was worth it. It was different from the other drawings in the book. The sketch pictured a hulking man, about eight feet tall, with bulging muscles. He had soft curls and a devilish smirk about him in the picture. He would’ve looked almost normal, despite the height, if it weren’t for the pointed horns curving from his head and tail protruding from his rear. He had sharp, knifelike claws on his hands, but there was something about him. He was sinfully beautiful.

The sketch was much more fine and detailed than the rest of the book. The Latin paragraph by his drawing was also much more detailed and beautiful than the sentences written previously. You noticed at the top of the page there was the name of your university, and you quickly read the paragraph, the Latin rolling off your tongue like you had been practicing for so many years. It was a set of directions, pointing you to the back of the library.

You pushed off your haunches, walking back to where the book was pointing you. You almost wondered if a Wiccan practitioner before you had walked this very path through the library. It wasn’t hard to believe; the library was centuries old. As you walked, you cradled the open book in your arms. Gaia’s tale about the devil worshippers in the 1400s rang through your mind as you realized when this book had been authored while walking. You didn’t exactly believe in anything supernatural or even devil worshippers, but you couldn’t help feeling a slight chill in your bones once you had reached the back of the library.

It was dark back here, much darker than the rest of the library. The only light shone from your dying phone’s battery as you hit a stone wall. You’d never been at the back of the library, and it was very clear hardly anyone else had either. The stones were damp and cool and cobwebs littered the corners. You read the passage again, running your hand along the rocks. You didn’t know why you were doing this. It was clear you had literally hit a wall. Maybe it was procrastinating that you had an exam tomorrow, or maybe it was the urge to do something for Halloween.

You looked down at your tattoo once more before reading the instructions on the book. All it said was to look for the sixth stone, in the sixth row, of the sixth column. Your eyes searched the wall before finding the stone and pressing it. Nothing happened. You sighed, going to turn away from the wall and walk back to the desk. You couldn’t wait to rub it in Gaia’s face tomorrow that the “devil worshippers” of the library were nothing but an urban legend.

Suddenly, the wall rumbled, two sides splitting to reveal a large wooden door with the same designs as the book carved into it. You stood in front of it, absolutely gaping. There was no way a stone wall had just split in half. There was no way there was another door inside the wall, leading to who knew what. You knew you should turn around, go back to the desk and continue your studies and then go home to your dorm. The last thing you needed was to get stuck in some old passage.

But you didn’t. Your subconscious pulled you towards the door, and you pulled the rusty, metal lock open. You coughed as the dust blew towards your face, beaming your phone across the room you had stepped into. It was small and earthen, almost like a prison cell, but it had an almost magical vibe to it. At the far end lay what looked like a stone hearth, and your feet pulled you towards it. You looked down at the book as you walked. This was where it had led you to, and now there were further directions for you to follow.

At the foot of the altar was another pentagram, and on the ledge were a few wax candles in bronze holders, a box of matches at their base. It was as if the matches had been placed there recently, but it seemed like no one had been in this room for decades. It lay dead silent and still, like a tomb. You picked up the box of matches, but nearly jumped out of your skin when the door that had led you here slammed shut. Looking down at your tattoo once more, you began to read off the passage from the book. The Latin spilled from your mouth like an incantation as you lit the candles and slid your phone into your back pocket.

As you did so, a warm, sweet heat curled through your core, blossoming in your tummy before traveling down to your thighs. You didn’t know what you were expecting to happen. Were you actually trying to summon a fucking demon? The feeling was wonderful and exhilarating, and you felt called to continue the chant as it ran down the page. Surely if you actually summoned the being there would be a way to banish him…right? You ignored the warnings on the page, written in red ink that looked suspiciously like blood. Demons probably weren’t even real; if anything, you’d get a good laugh at this later.

As you finished the words on the page, your skin began to prickle with goosebumps, the hairs standing tall. That had to be a coincidence. There was no way anything was actually happening. You were making it up, your mind bewitched with Gaia’s folklore and the spirit of All Hallows’ Eve. If warning bells were supposed to be going off in your head, they weren’t. The only sensation you had was your heart fluttering with excitement.

Just as you spoke the last word, an unnatural, purple fog flitted through the room, swirling about the chamber and ruffling the pages of the old book. It curled faster and harder until all you could see was purple smog, and the sconces on the wall firing to life on one-by-one, without you lighting them. Here you were, alone in a sealed chamber that no one alive knew about, summoning god knows what. Gaia’s playful joke about bringing a demon to life floated through your mind. Despite not being one to be superstitious, something supernatural was happening in this room. You should’ve felt scared, terrified, horrified, any antonym for excitement, but you didn’t.

As if you had been studying the passage for weeks, the Latin chant flowed from your mouth like you had memorized it, even though you’d only read it once. You repeated the lines five more times for a total of six with your eyes closed. When you opened them, the smoke had cleared somewhat. The only wisp of purple that you saw was slowly seeping out of the walls, being edged by an invisible wind. It curled towards the middle of the room, twisting in a tornado like shape, further and further towards the ceiling. You didn’t know why, but you covered your face with your hands. Maybe it was fear of nothing actually happening. You had fallen asleep at the desk while studying and would wake up in a few moments to nothing but an empty page on your computer.

After a few moments, you uncovered your eyes, seeing that the smoke was beginning to fade away. All of what had just happened was blocked out when you noticed the absolutely enormous figure standing in the middle of the etched pentagram, the sconces casting him in a warm, orange glow. You fisted your eyes once more to just make sure you were really seeing what you thought you were. The half-human, half-mythological creature came into view, standing before you regally. He was even more intimidating in person as he stared down at you with dark eyes, but the only way your body responded was through a heated moan.

The beast was absolutely huge. His shoulders were nearly as broad as you were tall, with bulging muscles and unholy pecs. His skin was tanned and littered with inked tattoos, depicting battles he’d won and scenes from his tales. His black curls fell to his pointed ears, serving as a bed for his red horns. Your eyes caught on them for a moment, taking in how they were wider at the base but curled upwards, ending in knifelike daggers that scraped the ceiling. He was probably nearly eight feet tall, covered in muscle all over, but the thing that really made you heat up was his face.

His chocolate-brown eyes looked you up and down curiously as his plump, pink lips curved into a smirk that started at his cupid’s bow. Whoever this demon was, his face was littered with a bit of stubble and despite his uncanny appearance, you longed to kiss his face all over, feeling the hair and telling him just how beautiful he was. He was like something one could only dream of.

His chest was heaving with heavy, agitated breaths. His fists were clenched in front of him, but you could see the deep, black claws that jutted from his fingertips. Although his skin was a completely normal shade for a human, it was clear he was closer to a beast than any person. His legs were thick and muscular, but appeared human under the crude, burgundy, fabric shorts he wore. His bare feet were like that of an animal, more clawlike, the same type as his hands. The thing that stole your gaze the most, though, was the red tail, tipped with a pointed heart that protruded from his rear, flicking with arousal as the tent in his shorts grew.

“I…” You started, whimpering slightly.

You weren’t scared per say, but the demon was rather intimidating, both in stature and how capable he looked of pleasure. He cocked his head, his brown eyes growing lustful at the noises falling from your lips. The adrenaline of the situation had worn off and now you were gasping for air as you realized you had just summoned a magical, sinful creature. The demon stepped closer to you, tail curling behind him, eyes trained on you. Your body responded to his gaze by heating up, the warmth curling through your belly as you surveyed him. You didn’t question your body’s arousal towards him; you were so syrupy-sweet with desire that you paid no mind.

“It was you who summoned me, angel?” the demon asked once he was about three feet away from you.

His voice rattled through the stone chamber, a deliciously deep bass that snuck its way into your bones, settling there. You clenched your thighs together in your sweatpants as your clit began to throb with horniness. You craned your neck slowly, eyes traveling up his spectacular body until you met his face. Even with your neck leaned back so far, you just barely could meet the creature’s eyes.

“It was me,” You admitted, gnawing on your lip to keep any unwanted noises from escaping. “I…wanted to.” You said, picking your words carefully, fearful of how such a beast would react to what you said.

The chamber fell dead for a moment, the only sound being the demon’s breathing as he looked you up and down. You couldn’t tell if he was angry, or simply just curious. You wondered if he knew how someone summoned him, or if he simply just popped up wherever the spell called. Your question was answered when he spoke, that beautiful voice flowing from him once more.

“The book told you to summon me?” he asked, raising a brow.

You could tell now that he was more curious than anything, surprise making its way onto his features as you studied his face. You glanced around the room, mulling over your answer before speaking. You thought of the way you had skipped the Halloween parties, opting to sit in the library alone, the way you’d unusually ignored your studies to find another book, the way you’d skipped the rest of the book to look at the picture of the demon before you, and then follow the directions on it.

“Yes,” You said, your voice shaking. “I felt called to summon you.”

“Do you believe in the supernatural, baby witch?” he asked you.

“I…I don’t know,” You didn’t even recognize the voice that was coming from you, the words high and tinged with a mixture of fear and arousal. “I'm just letting the Halloween spirit get to me!” You said, backing against the altar.

The devil smirked, pushing his body against your own, pinning you to the altar. “Sweetheart,” he started. “I think a little more than the Halloween spirit calls you to summon a sex demon.” he growled.

The noise rumbled up from his chest and you tentatively lifted your head to meet his eyes. They had darkened to an almost black color, full of lust. His lips had a hungry look plastered across them, smirking when he met your eyes. His hulking body blocked out the light from the candles as he stood in front of you, casting his body in a warm glow. The light glinted off his white, razor-sharp fangs as he smirked, licking his lips with his forked, black tongue.

“I wanted to know what fucking a demon is like…” You mumbled.

“What was that, angel?” he asked, grabbing your chin in his hand and lifting it to meet his eyes. “You will not mumble when you talk to me.”

“I wanted to know what fucking a demon is like!” You yelped, backing impossibly further, your body jolting with fear, but a wetness growing in your underwear nonetheless.

Your emotions were an absolute jumble inside your chest. You felt fearful and nauseous with horror, but your desire to know the sinful creature was epically stronger. The dampness in your panties was only becoming more prominent, clinging to your skin and agitating your clit. The creature had caged you in with his humongous body, looking down at you.

“Well then, I’m happy to fulfill your desires.” the demon cooed.

He was practically salivating as he looked at you, moving his large claws to hold your body in place. He gave off such an air of power that despite the physical filling of the room, his personality was filling the chamber so tightly, blocking out everything that wasn’t him.

“I won’t hurt you, baby witch.” he said with an unexpected softness, stroking your cheek.

His gentleness shocked you, removing the fear from your body. As his body pressed ever closer to yours, you could smell his delicious scent, and you longed to bury your face in his glorious chest and never let go. The scent was like that of cigarettes and cherries, intoxicatingly sweet and a bit smoky.

“I’m not a witch,” You whispered, voice shaky. “You…you have me confused with someone else.”

“You summoned me by reading the Latin, I’m quite literally a demon, and you have this,” he reeled off, stroking the claw of his thumb over your pentagram tattoo. “All of that qualifies you to be a witch.”

The creature wasn’t really lying. All of those things qualified you to be a witch, or at least a beginner in practicing magic. You longed to go back in time and heed Gaia’s warnings about the supernatural and its creatures, but for now, you were enjoying the way this half-man, half-beast far too much. You nodded your head in a sort of acceptance, looking into his deep, chocolate eyes.

You weren’t sure if he smelled the fear melt from your body, or if the acceptance was written on your face, but the creature pinned you to the altar with his claws, his hips pressing against your upper body. He wrapped his tail around your upper thigh, almost like a garter, but to your surprise, it wasn’t cold and slimy like you had anticipated. It was warm and the heat made your body seize with arousal. You slowly relaxed into the touch, humming softly. His body was hotter than any human should be, both sexually and temperature-wise.

“Do you have a name?” You asked him softly, melting in his grasp.

The book had just called him “The Powerful One”, but if he was going to call you names like “angel” and “baby witch”, you thought it only fair to have one to use for him. He looked at you curiously, cocking his head as he searched your expression.

“I can’t share my name with you, pet,” he hummed. The noise sounded almost like that of an enormous lion, akin to a purr. He used his right hand to cup your face with intention, his claws scraping softly against the nape of your neck. “It allows those who know the demon too much power.”

“Oh…” You said shyly and a bit sadly.

After a moment though, the thought fleeted from your mind. The demon’s name was flowing further and further from you as you rested comfortably into his soft, burning hand. You blushed as you wondered if the rest of his body was like his chest and hands. Would he leave your own heat burning with affection?

“Angel,” he crooned, stroking your cheek to bring you back to reality. “I have been alive a millennia. That allows one many, many names. Rex, Dominus Potens, Magnūs. They are of your choosing." His voice was gentle as he spoke to you, almost like he was a human man speaking to his girlfriend, rather than a creature that spent his life in the depths of hell.

“King, Powerful Master, and The Great One?” You looked to the beast as the Latin translations sloppily rolled off your tongue.

He nodded, a soft smirk painting his lips. You would’ve expected a sex demon to be much rougher and less kind with you, but his softness was like that of a giant teddy bear. The soft personality that was stored inside that monstrous body just made you even more hungry for him. You wished to grind yourself against his body with erotic moans, but you chose to gently stroke his abdomen that was at eye level with you. A happy noise grumbled its way up from the devil’s throat, encouraging you to continue your motion.

“Dominus…” You said softly.

The demon gave you a nod of approval, making you utter the word again. This time it fell more smoothly from your lips, and you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes against the altar, wanting to know this magical beast. You were much too short to reach his lips, so you settled for puckering your own and leaving a kiss against his soft breast. His body heat ignited your own and you pushed yourself into him, knowing he would catch you.

You longed to kiss him, and the creature could sense the feeling from radiating from your body. He was much too tall to stoop and kiss you though, his horns scraping against the ceiling, so he opted to pick you up by the waist, settling you on his hip, almost like a small child. Once he was sure you were set comfortably, he didn’t give you a moment’s more to think before his lips were on yours.

The beast’s kisses were just like his personality; smooth and subtle, but with an underlying tone of something much more…promiscuous. Even though he was less than human, his empathy was like a wonderful, respectful man. He seemed to understand how small and fragile you were compared to him and he took that into consideration as he kissed you, his muscles bulging as he held you. He kissed you in such a frenzy that you felt high off his love, desperate for your next fix.

You whined, grinding yourself into his hip as a whine escaped your mouth. To this, the demon deepened the kiss, turning it into a full makeout. You felt his mouth curve into a smirk as you kissed him more fervently. His forked tongue was providing you with overwhelming pleasure as whimpers and gasps fell from your lips.

Whoever this demon was, his mouth tasted absolutely sinful. You had the urge to just let him rail you until you were beyond fucked-out. Your arms were wrapped around his thick neck as you cried out, practically riding his thigh. The feeling of the fabric rubbing against your clit, as well as the wetness in your panties made the movement pleasurable and you could tell the creature felt the same way. He was nearly growling, loud, erotic rumbles that burst from his chest in monstrous cries.

“Please,” You panted out. “Please, fuck me, magnūs.”

“Are you ready for dick already, baby witch? Am I that pleasurable?” he asked with a smirk.

You blushed, knowing your horniness was so visible, but you couldn’t be bothered as the demon’s own seductive noises just made your folds even more wet. “Yes! I am!” You cried out, riding his thigh frantically, trying to get yourself off.

The demon placed your back against the altar once more, one of his hands holding you in place and the other gripping you under the ass. “So, you want to know what it’s like to fuck a sex demon, angel?” he asked with a smirk, running his tongue over his pearly fangs. “Need to get off on my unholy cock? Do you think you’ll be able to take it all?”

You whined against him, eyes traveling to the tent in his pants you had seen earlier. It was only growing larger, flicking underneath his crude shorts in unison with his maroon tail. The demon snapped his fingers, and suddenly, he was completely naked. You could now completely see his cock, and a moan immediately left you. He was already leaking pre-cum, the deep red organ pulsing with arousal. You had the urge to immediately drop to your knees and suck him off, offering up worship as his cum poured down your throat.

“Do you think you can take it, baby witch? Or should I go back to where I came from? Forget this little rendezvous ever happened.” he chuckled deeply.

You knew you would have a hard time fitting more than the head of his cock in your mouth. He was as thick around as your bicep, and nearly as long as your lower leg. Even the monsterfucking porn you looked at and read sometimes hadn’t prepared you for him. The sight should’ve made you nervous about trying to fit him into your cunt, but it didn’t. You simply longed for him to insert himself into your heat, fucking you until you couldn’t take it anymore as you worshipped him.

“You came looking for me because you’re a slut, pet,” the devil teased you. “You love the idea of being stuffed full of demon cock, don’t you?”

It was like he was reading your mind, but then again, you were staring so blatantly at his dick, practically salivating. You began to grind your pussy against his chest as he held you, begging him to touch you in any way he possibly could.

“I can smell that you’re wet for me, baby witch,” he teased, but a tone of love laced his voice. “Are you ready to be split open on my dick?”

You nodded so quickly your head almost fell off. “Do more than that. Ruin my cunt. I’ve waited years to be fucked on a monstrous cock like yours.” You said, fluttering your lashes.

“Angels aren’t supposed to be filthy,” he hummed. “But if you desire, I’m happy to obey your wish.”

The demon unwrapped his tail from your leg and used it to slowly tickle and tease your wetness through your pants, before he suddenly snapped his fingers once more, leaving you completely naked as well. He continued to tease your pussy as he craned his neck, beginning to softly suckle on your nipples until they were standing tall. He looked into your eyes solemnly when he lifted his head, brown eyes filled with lust.

“Do you understand what it means to be taken by me, pet?” he cocked his head. “You will never be rid of me after this night. I will be embedded in you forever.”

“Don’t care,” You whined, shoving yourself into him. “Just need you to fuck me now, Dominius!” You cried, beginning to give his cock that was only growing larger with arousal a handjob, stroking the veiny dick up and down.

“Oh angel, you’re such a slut,” he chuckled, sliding one hand to insert into your heat. “Dom’t even care about the effects fucking a demon will have on you.”

You whined, practically riding his fingers already, to which he offered teases of how wet you were for him. Your hands had fallen away from his dick at this point, so pleased by his fingers that you tangled your fingers in his soft, black curls.

“Need you, Rex. Need your cock.” You whimpered, tears pricking your eyes at how sexually frustrated you were.

“Such a needy baby witch, aren’t you?” he hummed.

You nodded quickly, tugging on his curls slightly. You were so full of lust and arousal that you would’ve said yes or agreed to anything he asked. The demon added another finger to your hole, slowly sliding them in and out. He used his tail to alternate caressing your face and belly, humming softly.

“You need preparation for my cock.” he told you softly, explaining in a sort of way why he hadn’t pushed you to the wall and fucked you senseless.

You slid your hand back down to his shaft and ran your thumb over his head. His pre-cum was warm and wet, practically drenching your entire hand. You tentatively brought your hand to your face and licked it slowly and sensually, savoring the delicious, sinful taste of him. At this, your demon made a pleased noise, pumping your pussy faster.

“You need more than that, pet,” the beast told you. “Should I fuck your mouth so you can drink it like a sinner drinking holy water?”

You nodded so quickly, eager for him to go through with his words. “Oh please, magnūs.” You whined.

By this point, you were riding the demon’s fingers, enjoying the way his claws felt inside your sensitive, wet cunt. He wasn’t letting you get off that easy, though. Suddenly the creature pulled out and gazed at you with a playful grin.

“You didn’t think I was letting you get away with cumming on my fingers and not on my dick, did you, baby witch?” he raised a brow, taunting and challenging you. “I’m going to fill you with so much demon cock that you won’t know how to think and you will cum more times that you can fucking count.”

Your devil lifted you so that your pening was placed directly over his enormous length. You could feel your wetness dripping onto him, making the organ twitch with pleasure. He was so tall and big that you had to wrap your arms around his torso as he held you under the ass, claws digging into your plump flesh.

“Are you ready for my monstrous cock, angel?” he asked you, spreading your legs wider and placing his tip against your tiny, tight hole.

“Yes! Please, Dominus.” You cried out, rocking yourself against it.

Any of the fear or hesitation you had felt earlier melted away as the demon began to insert only the head of his dick into you. Even with his fingering, it took quite a few moments for him to fit all the way inside. You gasped out in a mixture of pain and pleasure once he was fully inside. It was unlike anything you had felt before. The creature’s dick was stretching your pussy beyond its limits, making you dig your nails into his skin.

“Shhh, take it like the filthy angel you are,” the demon cooed, thrusting deeper into you. “You wanted this, I know you can do it, baby witch.” he coached you.

You rocked your hips around him, trying to accommodate his massiveness. The only things falling from your lips were senseless sounds and whimpers as your body got adjusted to the feeling. “Feels amazing.” You slurred out, intoxicated with the ecstasy of him.

“Your poor little pussy is going to be absolutely wrecked, pet.” he chuckled, beginning to suck on your neck as he rode you.

The devil kept inserting himself into you, moving just wonderfully so that you could feel his dick nearly rearranging your insides. You didn’t know how much of him was left for you to take. Your walls were aching with the effort of taking him, but your demon was making you feel so good. He had taken such great care of your body and made it his own. You stared into his lustful eyes as he came suddenly, the same tingling sensation as when you had tasted his pre-cum filling your insides.

“Oh god,” You panted out. “Magnūs, please.” Your nails were wrecking his back as he held you, his tail tickling in between your thighs for even more pleasure in your sensitive area.

“Your turn, baby witch,” he cooed. “Cum all over my demon cock.”

You immediately did as he said, releasing so fucking quickly. The walls of your cunt tightened around his length, making you cry out. Your climax made your demon moan out, fucking you harder. With one last thrust, he shoved the rest of his cock into you, making you scream out in pleasure. You were fuller than you’d ever been in your life, and it felt amazing. The devil made a few erotic groans himself, shoving your hips down onto his dick to get the right angle for fucking you mindless.

You could feel his balls, bigger than any you’d ever seen, slapping against your ass, leaving the most wonderful stinging sensation. His tail slowly snuck to your slit, tickling your electric spot while pounded into you.

“It has been so long since someone summoned me,” he whispered huskily into your ear. “Thank you, angel.”

Just as he said that, he unloaded into you, your pussy being flooded with his cum. This time was more than the last and you screamed with pleasure, digging your nails into your back. The whole scene was hot enough that you immediately came around him, your walls clenching. The triple orgasm was better than any other man or toy could provide you. As soon as you finished, you slumped against his abdomen, panting heavily.

The demon chuckled, slowly sliding his cock out of you and sinking to the ground with his back against the wall, still holding you. His dick had softened and you were laying over it now, enjoying the warmth. He was much warmer than any human man was, and it was an enjoyable sensation. He stroked your back with his claws, giving you a wonderful massage, while his tail rubbed up and down your legs.

“You did wonderfully, pet.” he praised you, a purr coming from his mouth.

You blushed, going to snuggle into him but pushing when you felt yourself stopped against his chest. You slowly reached a hand up and touched your head with wonder. “I…I have horns!” You exclaimed.

“Did you read the terms and conditions at all, baby witch?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“No,” You admitted shyly. “You were just too sexy for me to care.”

Your demon laughed, kissing your forehead. “Don’t inflate my ego anymore than it already is, angel. But yes, there are certain terms and conditions. Your small, human body isn’t made to take a cock like mine, so my cum changes you to accommodate it. Look behind you.” he offered, giving your ass a smack.

“I have a tail!” You said excitedly, stroking the new, pink addition to your body.

The demon chuckled at how childlike with happiness you were. But he appeared a bit sad as he stroked your body up and down. “This isn’t permanent, angel. The summoning isn’t, so neither are the side effects.” he said, voice laced with sadness.

“Wait…you mean I’m never going to see you again?” tears pricked at your eyes.

You loved this demon with your whole heart and soul and you knew you were meant to be with him. That was the only explanation for everything that had happened this evening; the studying, the call to the book, the urge to summon this wonderful creature.

“You can summon me whenever you like, pet. But the summoning only lasts an hour,” he smiled softly. “After that, I go back to the underworld and your body goes back to normal.”

“But what if I don’t want that?” You were beginning to cry. “I want to be with you. Please don’t leave.”

The demon petted your hair, kissing your face softly. “You’ll see me again, angel. Summon me whenever you like.”

You craned your neck and began to kiss him fervently, not wanting him to leave you. “Please, I need you.” You moaned.

“Haven’t had your fill of me?” he chuckled, beginning to makeout with you.

You continued to kiss, enjoying your new features, until the hour was up. You said goodbye to your demon, kissing his lips softly and promising to summon him again as soon as possible. But just as he was dissolving into the same purple smoke, he looked at you solemnly before speaking.

“Calum. That’s my name, baby witch. Call me Calum.”

“Goodbye, Calum.” You whispered as he disappeared.

Your tail and horns disappeared with your lover, leaving you fully clothed in the empty, stone room, just like before. You clutched your hands to heart, promising yourself that you would summon Calum again as soon as possible.

✯ One Year Later ✯

You excitedly stood in your apartment, the same book from last year clutched tightly in your arms. This was the final time you would ever summon Calum for an hour. You both loved the wild, sexual nights, but you missed your demon during the day. You two had spent the last year practicing magic, with Calum’s getting just strong enough for him to pass as human for just under a year. He would be able to be his true form at home with you, but he had gotten so skilled that he would now be able to pass as your human boyfriend to your friends and family.

You chanted the spell just like that Halloween last year, but this time, you used your demon’s real name when you called upon him–Calum Hood. The same purple smoke appeared just like all those times before, but when the fog dissipated, a “human” man stood in front of you. Calum was about 6’2”, with those kind brown eyes that you loved so dearly. He still had his luscious curls and beautiful tattoos, but the horns, claws, and tail were gone for now.

He immediately swept you off your feet, spinning you around. “I missed you, baby witch.” he hummed, running a finger over your same pentagram tattoo.

“I missed you more, Cal.” You sniffled, on the verge of tears as you realized you would get to see Calum every day now.

You knew in your heart that Calum was still of the underworld, and that was what you loved about him, but you were ready for a new start. To be able to show off the soul you loved oh-so-dearly to the world. He would still have to go back to the underworld every now and then, but you were so happy you didn’t care.

“Don’t forget that I’ll always be your demon.” he smirked as you buried your face in his neck, breathing in that same, sinful scent of cigarettes and cherries.

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poursomesunaonme · 2 years

Note

Hi! I loved what you wrote for my baby daddy Erwin Smith 😭 If it's alright could I ask for numbers 7 and 19 with Erwin? Pronouns she/her 🥺 thank u so much in advance!!

mwah mwah ty for ur submission love!!

wc: 630

cw: nsfw (minors dni, 18+ only), college au, professor/student relationship, power dynamic, dubcon, age gap, praise kink, semi-public sex, safe sex (for once in my life), pet names (pretty baby, baby)

“there you go, pretty baby,” the man groans in your ear. “you’re taking me so well.”

you can only gasp in response to the shivery feeling of his breath creeping over the shell of your ear, to the quickened pace of his hips slapping into your ass. the tantalizing pressure hums in your bloodstream, evoking a feeling you know all too well.

in the beginning, it was harmless. the class was a throwaway elective, one that was easy enough for you to breeze through while you struggled through higher major courses. in the beginning, you weren’t even planning on attending past syllabus day. that was before you laid eyes on the professor.

tall, blond, handsome, and most importantly, no wedding ring. it was a shame that someone who was so passionate about the subject of some such or other historical art movement would be put in charge of teaching students who wouldn’t ever bother to pay attention. you had taken a seat in the very back of class the first day, only to find yourself moving closer and closer with each passing class period.

you couldn’t care less about the material, only about the man teaching it. while you excelled in the other classes that pertained to your major, you found yourself just barely passing the elective itself. it was supposed to be easy, but the handsome professor found a way to keep you engaged in class after the first mediocre exam.

two months into the semester, you decided to attend his office hours. as you chatted with him, all you could focus on was the unbuttoned shirt and the rolled up sleeves, the kind of look that had your back arching just at a glance. in the end, you were the one who suggested a special kind of “bonus points,” where everyone would win: you get better grades, he gets… fulfilled.

so after weeks of blowjobs under the desk during office hours and getting felt up in hallways when no one was looking, you attend your final appointment - the one that will bump your final grade up to an A. however, professor smith couldn’t quite wait to get back to his office.

“what if someone comes in?” you cry for the millionth time, over the slapping of skin. his hands wrapped around your waist steady you, hold you still while he pumps into you over and over and over again.

“i guess you’ll just have to keep it down so that we can hear them coming, hm?” erwin teases, brushing the hair out of your face so that he can see your expression. the grain of the wood presses against your cheek, your stomach squeaking against the desk as your shirt had ridden up.

erwin’s cock twitches inside you, signaling in the simplest of ways how close he is. you find yourself on the precipice too, but the door swinging open and the eerily empty hallway still holds you back from launching yourself into the throes of pleasure.

“c’mon now, baby,” he murmurs, “everyone’s in class right now. nothing to be ashamed of.”

at his encouragement, the edges of that pressure begin to fray away, begin to melt into the first few twinges of a climax. within just a few more deep strokes, your hand slaps over your mouth to hold in the lewd moans that threaten to echo around the lecture hall. erwin finishes inside the condom, the evidence of his orgasm only in the guttural groans that rumble against the back of your neck.

too afraid to stick around in the case that someone walks in, you quickly adjust your blouse and skirt and excuse yourself. the wetness that continues to pool between your legs begs the question of changing your major so late in the game.

#tw dubcon #tw power imbalance #attack on titan #attack on titan smut #attack on titan erwin #aot #aot smut #aot erwin #shingeki no kyoujin #shingeki no kyoujin smut #shingeki no kyoujin erwin #erwin smut #erwin smith #erwin smith smut #erwin x reader #erwin x you #🪐beanie writes!

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the-letter-horror-lover · 2 years

Text

BORUTO ALTER: Last Shinobi by SongofVedas

Anime » Naruto Rated: T, English, Adventure & Fantasy, Naruto U., Sasuke U., Boruto U., Sarada U., Words: 112k+, Favs: 48, Follows: 49, Published: Dec 2, 2020 Updated: Jul 19

21Chapter 27: KARA VS THE SHARINGAN!

Let's begin.

The mysterious Uchiha's words rang within Boruto's mind as he led Sasuke to where Boruto had first performed it-

The Rasengan.

It was almost early afternoon, and a calming breeze splashed across Boruto's stern face.

He pounced from tree to tree, conscious not to expend too much chakra.

I have no idea if I'll even be able to do it again.

Boruto inadvertently closed his eyes- a racing mind passing now to Mitsuki and Sarada.

I need to talk to both of them soon.

So much was happening.

Mr. Inuzuka.. the Chunin exams..

Himawari.

Boruto stomped upon the branch he leapt from, causing a loud crack to spread throughout an otherwise quiet forest.

Everything that's going on around me..

This is why I have to continue. This is why I have to become stronger, no matter what. This world.. something bad is coming. And I refuse to let whatever that is hurt the people I care about.

As Boruto opened his eyes, he saw that they were nearly upon his old training grounds.

He turned half way to regard the Uchiha, blue-silver eyes glaring from behind swaying black bangs.

"We're here, basically." Boruto turned back around, zipping from tree to soft, wavering grass.

Sasuke's shadow passed over Boruto-

The man landed a few meters away, back facing Boruto. His cape wavered softly in the wind.

"Based on what your Father told me.. it seems it's a rather fortunate day for you." Sasuke said quietly.

Boruto narrowed his eyes-

"The wind. But it's more than that, I think." Boruto stepped closer to Sasuke as the Uchiha moved to face him.

"You're right." Sasuke said with a slight nod.

Boruto opened his scarred hand, tracing the cut lines crossing a shaking palm-

That closed into a fist.

"Ion Release, Konohamaru called it." Boruto whispered.

Sasuke's eye widened in slight surprise, before he gave a dismissive sigh.

"According to Naruto, Konohamaru hadn't told you that part yet."

Boruto couldn't help but laugh.

"He probably.. didn't want to overwhelm me at first. But he ended up telling me a few days later."

Boruto looked away from Sasuke.

You realize what this is, don't you, Boruto? Ion Release.. That's a kekkei genkai. Konohamaru's voice faded from Boruto's thoughts as Sasuke spoke.

"Chakra control is one thing. But elemental chakra control is an innate skill. How did you visualize the jutsu?" The Uchiha asked.

Boruto shut bright eyes, picturing the Rasengan as memories made distant by near death surfaced.

"An.. equation, almost. A continuous loop of chakra fueled by its own rotation. I didn't really plan the rest." Boruto hadn't been conscious for it- but Konohamaru told him enough.

How his Rasengan was essentially incomplete- until it ionized the air around it, fueling his Rasengan with elemental energy and increasing its destructive force far beyond a normal variation of the same technique.

"I'm not surprised that your thought process led to such a complex jutsu. However, I'm sure you're aware of the risks." Sasuke spoke evenly, his dark gaze meeting Boruto.

"I am. That's why I sought you out." Boruto glared back.

Sasuke chuckled.

"Fair enough.. Boruto Uzumaki."

Sasuke then gave Boruto another nod, this one slower and more deliberate as he stepped back.

Boruto gingerly spread one leg ahead of his body, angling it in the Hyuga fashion while extending his right arm. He winced-

His muscles were still sore.

Focus.

Feel the spirit of the world around you, Boruto.

Hiashi's voice lurked underneath hidden arithmetic, Boruto once more constructing a hollow sphere of chakra that ran against itself.

Boruto gasped-

His chakra was burning.

Vision faded- but Boruto righted himself, biting down on his tongue to keep conscious. Blood crashed against the back of his gritted teeth-

once more, the wounds on his palm opened.

Despite the pain..

It was then Boruto saw it.

The vortex of elemental energy.. Air and lighting fusing into ion charged chakra that gathered whatever was around it-

And in turn completed his Rasengan.

The orb of chakra filled with a high pitched hiss- blue and yellow colors swirled within a chirping sphere that seemed to pulse between Boruto's bleeding fingers.

It was heavy-

Incredibly so.

Boruto pushed his legs into a strained run, thrusting the Rasengan into the nearest tree circling them.

Sound rang within his ears.

Then, his vision went black.

Boruto heard.. Voices. Multiple voices.. All speaking to him at once.

No.. that's not right.

It's.. only one.

Boruto's eyes opened.

I'm not in control of my actions.. Is it-

"..Ninurta. I wish.. I could be there for you. But this is the only way."

Boruto felt as if he was looking up at someone-

Until he realized he was.

Fear took over then-

The man looming over Boruto had cheek length white hair, with sharply cut bangs that fell above two Byakugan. His skin was a milk white, and six magatama symbols circled the man's lower neck and chest. He was dressed in white robes-

robes dirtied with blood.

"You will… save humanity, Ninurta. My treasured son."

Boruto then felt as if he was being carried. A baby's cry screamed within his consciousness-

Before he realized..

The cry was coming from...

Me..?

RUN, HUMAN! FLEE FAR FROM HERE!

The command shocked Boruto to the core. He jumped to his feet immediately, instant regret sending him back down to the grass as vision spun.

"You're awake sooner than I expected." Sasuke's voice echoed-

Boruto shook his head, tasting blood and breathing heavily.

He climbed to bent knees.

"It's a powerful technique, Boruto Uzumaki."

Boruto turned slightly to regard Sasuke, before following the direction of the Uchiha's pointed sword.

Boruto's eyes widened as he saw the full scope of his destruction. It was as if twelve ploughs had torn up a third of the surrounding wood.

The ground was upturned, pecked with the remnants of trees- of which only jagged trunks remained. The aftermath of Boruto's Rasengan seemed to spread for nearly 15 meters beyond.

He swallowed heavily.

I.. did that?

Boruto heard Sasuke give a curt, quiet laugh.

"It's a strange feeling isn't it. Power." Sasuke began walking away.

"Where are you going?!" Boruto said, uncharacteristically raising his voice as he scrambled into a run.

"You've proved you can perform it. In your state, there's nothing more we can do today." Sasuke replied without even stopping-

He didn't have to. Boruto fell once more, weakness forcing his body into an involuntary state of rest.

Boruto lifted himself from the ground-

Sasuke was gone.

He wanted to pursue him, but Sasuke was right. He couldn't even walk home now if he wanted to.

Boruto sighed, limping to a surviving tree before crumbling alongside it.

He closed his eyes-

Wait-

Boruto's senses flared-

He reflexively caught a water flask that fell from a belt of leaves above. Boruto glared at nothing, before taking grateful, quiet sips.

THE MAN- no.

Yoshika swallowed, sweat dripping from a tanned brow.

I can't even call this thing human.

The entity let a short breath pass between chapped lips, cruel amusement rolling off of his bare and muscled chest. Stolen organs squirmed underneath pallid skin-

Skin pockmarked by multiple Sharingan.

It wore shaggy black slacks while its feet were bare, bleeding, and cut open from the earth. Bits of stray and graying blonde locks fell from between vengeful eyes disfiguring the entity's scalp.

Its pink and fleshy mouth contorted into a snarled grin.

"There were more.. more of you.." The entity spoke.

Yoshika's senses blared in alarm-

This.. must be the one who's Kage level!

Dozens of Sharingan on the entity's body erratically flexed disjointed gazes across Yoshika and Han's clearing-

"Yes.. three here. One back in the ruined city. Three…South." It straightened.

Yoshika bore a hopeless smile.

This strength.. I'm going to die here.

"Relax, Yoshika." Jeishi said, bearing his characteristic smile.

Yoshika inhaled sharply at the sound of Jeishi's voice.

"I..I forgot you were there." Yoshika spoke as brown eyes fled past Jeishi and back at the Sharingan creature-

it began pacing.

Then, it spoke once more.

"An impossible task.. requires impossible will. Impossible will.. requires cruelty.. the amount of families..people.. children.. I've.." It stopped moving then.

The entity..began to sob.

"… Peace.. relies upon the burdened! The scorned. Depends on that.. of the Uchiha. It is for that reason I was given the gift of creation. By way.. of my divine eye.."

Jeishi fully turned to give both Yoshika and Han a somewhat sinister smile.

"Be sure not to die. This one… is actually quite strong."

Han's head shifted.

"I can sense the other two now as well." He said softly.

Yoshika felt a strike of fear leap up into his throat.

That's great, Han! I can't sense them! They're somewhere close? I can't even se-

Jeishi laughed.

"Have faith in my abilities, Yoshika." Jeishi spoke coolly-

Before walking forward with deliberate slowness. The Uzumaki's strange robes fluttered in the wind with an ethereal grace, giving him the appearance of some prophet from a bygone era.

The Sharingan creature stopped crying.

"You.. you seem to mock..not only humility..but..divinity.." The entity said.

Then, silence lurked between the precious moments preceding violence.

Within the seconds of a snap, the Entity's face flew into a horrifying, demonic visage- chakra exuding from it in invisible waves that could be felt across Yoshika's skin.

Despite this-

Jeishi sat.

He raised one arm above his head, while placing the other over his heart.

"Uzumaki Fuinjutsu:.. Duhkha." Jeishi whispered.

In the very next second, a thick spear of wood appeared within Jeishi's neck.

Jeishi fell over, blood pouring from his inexplicable wound.

"Jeishi!" Yoshika screamed. He began to-

"STOP!" Han yelled. Yoshika's wide eyes flew to the silver haired man.

"A screaming reprisal stung Yoshika's ears.

"You will be a vehicle of Uchiha will! My Will! The will of a reluctant..sorrowful GOD!"

The Sharingan creature was a mirage of speed. It rushed forward, bellowing- dust chasing behind a manic sprint as it bounded for Jeishi.

"We can't just-!" Yoshika's voice bled with fear.

Han's speech grew more stern. Cautiously approaching Yoshika, he continued to warn the younger rogue nin.

"There are some things that cannot be explained. You simply have to trust in the sacred art, and behold of its works." Han's voice grew louder over the sound of the Sharingan creature's laughter.

It beat Jeishi- Pummeling the Uzumaki while its muscles grew to inhuman limits- then beyond it.

Its sharingan seemed to spin-

Then, the dojutsu began forming into a completely different design- one of a black sun, with three spears pointing from it. The chakra around the Entity..grew thicker, crueler. More calculated- and eager to kill.

"It's ironic that it speaks of divinity," Han whispered.

Yoshika's throat closed-

Jeishi was thrown into the air-

Four bullets of flesh and bone shot from the Entity's body.

They punctured through as Jeishi's limp body fell, vanishing just as they cut past his robes-

The bullets reappeared directly within Jeishi's exposed chest. The sage fell to the ground like a felled hawk, his dressings splaying out from his body as if wings.

The ground below Jeishi pulsed, strange fuinjutsu markings writing themselves with the strange Uzumaki's spilled blood.

Jeishi's symbols glowed as light began to separate from the air, and onto the seal that now crawled onto Jeishi's skin.

"It is about to witness the one true expression of it." Han finished.

"So.. are you blessed as well? A false god, sent to test my resolve?" The entity cocked its head, new Sharingan bulging from every inch of its skin with bloody pops.

Yoshika's ears twitched at the sound of Jeishi's rasping hiss. Despite the quietness of it, it was as if the Sage was screaming.

Jeishi was still lying on his stomach, blood pooling from numerous wounds. His skin was pale, sickly. Black hair stuck to a sweat covered forehead. Jeishi slowly pulled himself upwards, staring ahead with haunting blue eyes as a trail of blood left smiling lips.

He then pressed his head down to the ground.

"Uzumaki fuinjutsu: Noble Truth.. Nirodha."

Disembodied screams filled the air.

Before chakra welled around Jeishi in such degrees it was fully visible to the naked eye.

"Watch carefully, Yoshika." Han's voice wavered with awe.

"You will soon understand just why Uzushiogakure deserved its fate."

NEXT TIME: SARADA, ITACHI! THEN, MARCH OF THE STATE SHINOBI!

#boruto fanfiction

0 notes

apocalypticgargoyle · 3 years

Text

meet clay, he knows how you'll die.

intro filler chapter sorry

☾ pairing: dream x reader

☾ cw: interact at your own risk; contains graphic depictions of various character death and violence, suicide, blood, gore, and other triggering material. angst, language, guns, adult content, mentions of sex, slow burn friends to lovers

☾ wc: ~4100

Clay pulled the strap of his backpack further on his shoulder as he wove through the mindless sea of college students, eyes scanning the crowd for you, his best friend and the only person he could stand at the early hour. His knuckles flashed white as he sighed, taking the blunt impact of someone walking into him. He removed one of his headphones, mumbling a quick apology and swatting off the enthusiastically apologetic sophomore girl. All he could focus on was how much she bit her lip as she stammered on about not seeing him. It wasn’t alluring to him when most girls tried to sway his affections by looking at him with a puppy dog expression; all his mind drifted to was the dead skin across the body of her lower lip.

He finally nodded and reinstated his headphone, turning on his heel and heading for the front of the building. He received a few greetings from his peers as they crossed his path, people who shared past lectures with him and who had cheated off of him during exams. He wasn’t popular by any means, but he stayed out of people’s business and didn’t express his opinions loudly, so people tended to like him. The autumn breeze picked up as he stood in the dwellings of political science majors on the front lawn, acting as if they hadn’t seen one another in years when it had been only a few days. Clay absent-mindedly looked down at his cellphone, flipping through music as he leaned against the cool brick of the hall’s facade, waiting for you to find him.

Clay’s usual brooding manner was often off-putting to outsiders, with the careless-hollow look in his eyes giving bystanders the impression that he was nothing but a machiavellian. But you always saw the brightness in him; the side that you always experienced was specifically for you, and he made sure to keep it that way. You had wedged herself into his life and he was ever grateful for the love you had given him.

Despite the understood truth between the two of you that nothing was to be left unsaid, Clay still found himself keeping one of the most important aspects of his character unknown to you. His bloodcurdling secret was his own curse, something that would only be poison for another soul to know.

“What’s up, stud?” Somehow a flush of relief rippled through Clay’s body as his eyes locked to yours, pulling him from his isolated shell. Your hair looked brighter today against the dark hoodie peeking out from beneath an all too familiar bomber jacket. The wind fluffed your locks slightly as you continued towards him.

His eyebrows perked up as if to signal he was attempting to downplay his excited demeanor. “Stud, huh?” You smirked at his response, taking one of his headphones and putting it in your own ear, her face angled up to Clay as you waited to recognize the song, swaying slightly.

He chuckled as you shrunk away from him after muttering the song’s artist disappointedly and rolling your eyes, pulling on his hoodie pocket to follow you. As chaotic as his life often felt, he could always rely on the consistency of you. You usually attached yourself to one of his backpack straps, handles, his belt loop, or ended up under his arm, wedged against his side. It had gotten to the point that he felt naked if you weren’t within arm’s length of him, which was rare for the two of you. “So, I have something for you.” He smugly looked down at you, green eyes masking a hidden sparkle as you handed him a can of root beer, making him chuckle.

“Aren’t you sweet?” He popped the tab, taking a sip as you waved at a group of girls passing the two of you before slipping your hand against the crook of his elbow where his hoodie sleeves were pushed back.

“Actually, I was hoping it could be payment for later. I need to head over to the cemetery for some rubbings. History 270 has me getting into some weird shit, huh?” He laughed again at you, offering you the drink.

“And you need wheels?” You nodded and smiled politely at him, beaming at his words. “Yeah, alright. I have to sketch something for art anyway.” He thought about the week’s assignment and then about your little project he had dealt with the prior year. You had acted like the two of you hadn’t been to the cemetery on a regular basis, but he was grateful that you wanted him to come along with you.

You quietly jumped once. “You are my hero in faded denim, Clay. You know that, right?”

The two of you parted ways to your select destinations, one of Clay’s least favorite parts of the day, which was only solidified as he sunk into his seat and attempted to look equipped for the lecture. He spotted an unfamiliar kid shaking his knee in a distant section of the classroom. In any other circumstance, he wouldn’t have thought twice, but the sie of the class had given him the pleasantries of getting his own personal curse out of the way on the first day.

He carefully watched the boy speak smugly to a few of the more athletic kids in the room. One of the athletes pointed to the general direction Clay was sitting in and they all moved towards him. He, yet again, took out his headphones, knowing full well that they would be talking to him for the rest of the class.

“Oi, Shaman,” one of the main guys greeted Clay like they always did: a strange pattern of slapping and shaking his hand. He was thankful he had gotten all of their first impressions months prior and didn’t have to worry about getting their scenarios again, but he geared up to meet the new kid.

“How are you, Punz?” Clay took a deep breath as the new kid was gestured to and brought into the light.

“This is Mark. He’s a transfer from one of the commuter campuses. Mark, this is the mastermind you pay for notes.”

Clay sarcastically smiled at Punz. “My, you flatter me more than any girl. Nice to meet you, man.” As soon as he touched Mark’s hand, Clay’s mind flashed to a dingy-looking barn out in the middle of nowhere before an older man in his mid-thirties came into view with a lever-action rifle in his hand. In another flash, Clay was in front of the man, now kneeling with the gun in his mouth, red, blurry eyes looking straight through Clay. A pang of guilt broke open in Clay’s stomach as he pushed against the handguard lever and pulled it back into place, squeezing the trigger and sending Ckay back to the class. He let out a sigh and fought to plaster one of his less absent smiles.

“Speaking of our lovely girls, Mark here has a question about her.” Clay’s head tilted towards Mark, not exactly squaring up to him, but sending him an amused look as if to warn him not to cross a line, knowing full-well this conversation would somehow involve you. “We all know that no guy would ever intrude on her without your blessing, but Mark sat near her on the bus before his first class and was thinking about asking her out.”

Clay bit back a laugh, feeling like the Vito Corleone. “Well, you know her, Punz, and you know she would be mortified if I told some guy to fuck off, so I would just ask her yourself?” Oh, how desperately Clay wanted to bash Mark for not even telling Clay himself and the fact that the boy before him was nowhere near your type, but Clay knew better than to burn bridges and he felt bad for the way Mark would meet his end.

Nobody, not even you, knew about Clay’s gift. In the going-on-five years of knowing you, he came breaths away from letting his secret slip but has always kept it hidden, hoping to bury it with him after being married to you for forty happy years.

The visions started around his fifth-grade year, beginning with vivid dreams of dying in the midst of the Civil War, feeling the warm gushing of blood leaving his system, and the stabbing pain of being shot multiple times beside a woman who oddly looked enough like you that he almost called out your name. He had lived what he presumed to be his death in the life before this one several times, each vision taking him a few clicks further.

Soon, he found himself catching glimpses of others’ deaths before they happened as soon as they touched him, but thankfully it was usually over with no time passing and he only endured the visions once for each person, fate having already sealed itself. The only person who seemed to mix him up was you.

It was love at first sight for him, but as soon as you touched his arm, bleak snapshots of a boating accident raced into his mind, only to have to re-experience the scenario a few months later with you stepping in front of a train. Even as a measly high school freshman, he promised himself that there was no way he was letting you die in the gruesome manners being predicted to you. He didn’t think changing fate was possible until he witnessed you in action. He hated seeing you so young in each of the glimpses, tearing him to shreds as he knew time and time again that there was no way he could change what was meant to be.

There were even times when he quietly promised you that he’d die by your side if he couldn’t stop it.

As his lecture let out, Clay found you tucked into a corner of the library, smiling to yourself silently as knew you had finally found what you were looking for in one of the massive books before you. There were many moments like this that Clay wished he could pause and remember for the rest of his life. He was proud that you were there for him even though you could have left instead of playing your own little game of library scavenger hunts.

Since knowing you, he had taken note of how you treated other boys, usually as first dates and never true pick-ups. You didn’t care if they called you the next day or not and he was sure you had never even been kissed before. Something about your guys’ relationship gave others the nod to leave it the fuck alone, and that your heart truly belonged to Clay; a responsibility he wished didn’t plague you with. Despite this, he couldn’t bring himself to be with you, only worried that what you had would be destroyed because he knew that as soon as he told you about his gift, you might leave.

You always brought a bag of marbles and a bouquet of flowers to the cemetery. You loved to find the tombstones that looked neglected or ones with older dates, knowing that the possibility of having family members who remembered the person was lower. The trees in the graveyard were reds and yellows with the changing season, leaves scattered over the grass, naturally piling in large masses. This was your favorite for how neglected it seemed to always be. You had a knack for making inanimate objects and lost souls feel loved; Clay often feeling like he was one of these disembodied figures.

Clay leaned his back against one of the massive trees a few paces from the tombstone you had picked, smiling as he watched you carry out her routine. He flipped to a clean page in his sketchbook as you sat cross-legged in front of the great stone resting place, pulling the long-dead flowers from the concrete gauntlet and replenishing a few flowers in their place while setting an equal number of marbles along the grass line of the stone. A daisy was tucked behind your ear as you ran her fingers against the worn chiseling of the dates, smiling slightly. He began to sketch you out. Your eyes drifted to him before the corners of your mouth curled up into a smirk and you returned to her previous position, straightening your shoulders. “Who is it?” He asked, blending a rough edge with the pads of his finger as you tilted your head at the script carvings.

“George McAfee. Born 1926. Died 1963.” The wind picked up, blowing your hair away from your face as you pulled your jacket closer around you. “What was happening in 1963?” You turned your head to him momentarily before looking back at the lucky man. “I mean besides Beatlemania and JFK’s assassination?”

Clay outstretched one of his legs, swallowing as he thought, his eyes fluttering from the page in front of him to you. “Well, Alcatraz was shut down, Studebaker stopped production, the USSR sent the first woman into space…” he trailed off, watching you as the gears began to spin in your head.

“Do you think he died in the Coliseum explosion?” You wet your lips and he couldn’t help but smile at you.

“Maybe he died in the USS Thresher sinking?” He was thankful that he could capture your thoughtful gaze in this picture.

“You’re smart, Dream. Have I ever told you that?” He chuckled at the sigh in your voice. He detailed the bomber jacket you were wearing---which you’d stolen from his closet god knows when---a bit as you placed a piece of paper over the engraving and rubbed a crayon against the stone, his name coming to life on the paper as you came to life on Clay’s. It didn’t matter why you two would be in the cemetery, you always had a type of bond with the dead, surprising Clay due to how bright you were and your power of holding onto so much compassion. He threw his sketchbook into his backpack and slug in over his shoulder, moving to help you up. You decided to give the rest of the flowers to George as Clay stood next to you, gazing down at his grave.

A high-pitched moan startled the two of you, snapping your heads to look over the hedges separating your section of graves and the one beside it. Clay’s eyes widened as they fell to a girl in all black with porcelain skin propped on top of one of the tombstones. You clasped your hand over his mouth pulling him onto the ground next to you as you peered through a hole in the bushes. His mind noticed your arms first. One of them was secured over his chest and the other wrapped around his shoulder from beneath his arm, holding onto him as he steadied himself in the weird crouching position. “Are you enjoying this?” He jeered, looking over his shoulder slightly as he heard you snicker. The girl began to ride the stone harder.

“How many times in your life are you going to see a girl humping a gravestone? Honestly, Clay, how many?” He shook his head as you both looked at the girl, giggling to yourselves. You dug her face into his shoulder trying to stifle the next laugh trying to rip through your body as the gothic girl moaned, letting out more labored breaths. Clay’s face contorted into a twisted look of disgust as the girl tugged on her own hair. “Oh, do you think that hurts?” You took the words out of his mouth, tightening your arms around him as he shrugged.

“I doubt it’s any rockier than sex with a human.” He bit his lip, a hollow sound interrupting him quietly laughing at his own joke as you thumped him in the chest. The girl moaned louder. “Alright, she’s climaxing. I’m uncomfortable now.” Clay stood and Willow popped up next to him, lacing your fingers with his, bringing color back to his cheeks as you slipped the remaining marbles into his pocket.

“Oh, hi!” In the midst of holding hands with you again and trying to slink back to his car, he hadn’t even realized that the moaning had stopped. The girl now stood near the two of you in what seemed to be a black slip. Clay found it hard to make direct eye contact with her. “Are you guys looking for someone?”

“We were, but we couldn’t find him so-” you began, gesturing for Clay’s car and pulling him next to you.

“Well, I can help. Who are you looking for?” A thousand sarcastically vulgar comments ran through Clay’shead but his eyes flickered from her face to the tombstone she was on previously.

“Uh, my grandpa. His name was Rupert Daniels,” Clay managed to choke out. Your nails dug into his arm while your hand squeezed his. The girl looked around at the surrounding stones.

“I don’t see him right now, but I can look?” You both shook your heads quickly and muttered various responses before finally slipping away from her and getting into his car. Neither of you said anything as you pulled off the gravel driveway until crossing the railroad tracks when Clay burst out laughing.

“Do you think she even knew who it was she was gettin’ it on with or did she just pick somewhere random?” Clay laughed harder at your stunned response. “I’m serious. Clay, what the fuck. How can someone even get off in a cemetery?”

“I don’t know, man. Would you hook up with someone in a cemetery?” Clay quipped, wiggling his eyebrows at you, causing you to laugh. You dug into his console, pulling out a bag of M&Ms you had stashed in there last week, popping one in your mouth.

“Only if it was you.”

He giggled. “Excuse me, what?”

“There are just some things you do with certain people, Dream. You know what I mean.”

“I don’t know if I should be flattered I’m the only one you would have sex with in a cemetery, or like, disgusted?” You laughed at his reaction.

Within ten minutes the sun had begun to set and Clay sang loudly with you to the song playing over the radio as Clay sped along one of the county roads near your apartment complex, not wanting the night to end. He loved these moments with you. You turned down the radio and threw your hair back into a ponytail. “So, what do you think of that new kid, Mark?” Something in Clay shifted, taking away the free feeling he had recently possessed next to you. He thought carefully.

He chewed his bottom lip. “Depends on what you think?”

“Well, he seems like a wannabe Punz. And he asked me out. Naturally, I said ‘yes’ because maybe he’s different?” Clay chuckled at your sarcasm, putting his car in park on the side of the street your flat was on and getting out with you. The radio still hummed in the air lowly. “He insisted on Friday, though.” Clay dramatically acted like you had stabbed him in the heart, even though it did hurt. Friday night was their night. It had been a running tradition for movie night every Friday since your freshman year and you had never canceled on Clay for a date. “I know, I know. But I figured that I’d tell him I had diarrhea when it hit eight o’clock and be over at your place with an extra pizza? Your roommate’s working right?” He chuckled with a nod, walking you up the first three steps to your place as you made it to the concrete landing. You turned to him. “And he said he was taking me somewhere fancy, so I’ll snag you some breadsticks.” He tilted his head at you as you winked at him.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Wanna be Punz might be fun. Maybe I’ll call up Minx and hang out with her?” He joked. Minx was a friend of yours that hung out with the two of you sometimes. He had never really liked her, but she was friends with you and thus he was always civil.

“You’re still my number one, babe.” You pushed him slightly as you climbed a few more steps, leaning on the railing as he waved to leave. “Hey, Dream?” He turned on his heel as you forced yourself to make eye contact. He stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets. “You could kiss me, you know? For science.” You smiled softly at him from where you were perched. He wet his lips as his heart hammered in his chest. He wanted to scale the steps and close the space between you, to knock you off your feet and show you just how much he was in love with you.

He hated himself. “A first kiss should have more magic in it than just for science. As a romantic, you should know first hand.” You smiled at the ground in front of you.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” The two of you seemed to shake off the serious moment as you stuck your tongue out at him and slipped inside your house as both giggled.

“I love you,” he murmured as you left, punching himself in the shoulder as he got back into his car.

Clay’s heartbeat pulsed in his ears, making him truly believe he was going to pass out. He had lost his gun at least a mile back. He was running mindlessly now, not knowing how long or where he was going. He trudged through the forest, hearing dogs barking and gunshots erupting around him, the ringing in his ears building with every step he forced himself to make. He wanted to rip open the front of his jacket to release the body heat drenching his collar, but he didn’t move other than propelling his body further and further away from the soldiers. You ran beside him, holding your skirt up while your hair danced around your shoulders like a great waterfall. As soon as his body felt like it might just give out, he would look at you and somehow find more of a drive to pull forward. His breaths were brittle and hoarse as he drew in borrowed oxygen. His lungs felt shallow like they were giving out on him.

You reached back, grasping his hand and pulling him into a sharp corner, hoping to lose the group. You both had managed to weave into the forest, but the dogs were somehow still picking up on your scent. The pair of you finally came upon a clearing and kneeled down out of sight, spotting a house in the middle of a glen. Bullets were streaming through the air. The forest was catching fire and cannons were echoing through the distant air. You squeezed his hand tightly, looking at him with terror in your eyes. He had gotten the two of you into this mess, but he was glad he was beside you.

He pulled you to your feet as the pair of you sprinted for a distant house. A sharp pain stabbed into Clay’s back, making him drop to the ground. How did he not hear the gun? You dropped to your feet, your eyes welling with tears, ripping at his jacket, but he pushed you off, telling you to leave quickly. He leaned forward, eyes locking on the soldiers in gray coming towards them, reloading their rifles. He groaned, pushing himself up, but only having the same stabbing sensation two more times in his chest. He heard you scream, but he couldn’t see you.

His hands were going numb as he touched where the bullets entered, feeling the warm and sticky crimson substance seep between his fingers. The soldiers reached you before you had made it to the house, pulling you to the ground next to him. You were crying heavily as you looked at him. Everything began to run quiet as you held onto him tightly. You were saying something to him, but he couldn’t hear you. He was only aware of his jacket soaking with blood. He coughed, wanting to tell you he loved you one last time, but you were tugged away from him, pressed to one of the men in gray. He raised a hand to you as you fought against the man. And then everything went dark.

Dream Tag List: (hopefully this works)

@karlkitten @pluto-dizzz @more-like-reyna @honk-izzie-was-taken @marrymetheonott @froggyy06 @ghoulandghost @savingpluto @marshmallow-babe @drunkpumpkincake @unstableye @tinyegg @behzzyboo @twist3dtinkerbell @sparkletash @shroomieissmall @clubfairy @camerondiaz48104 @victory-is-here @rat-poisin @alm334 @acidluvs @pachowpachowbucket @bbigbbrainn @cdizzlevalntyne @idiotinnit @generallysleepdeprived @sacvf @phsychopathetic @froggerrrr @robinslie @essencee @jemalovesmarvel @sbi-is-my-onlysanity @jenlouvre @victoria-a567 @miilliiie @bunnylotl @thegirlwhowritesawksh-t @carlyferrell @dumb-chaotic-bi-energy @nyxieahh @quivvyintheclouds @sarcasticmichelle @book-of-anarchy @millavalntyne @lightdreamy @baddiesforcorpse @sunnynapp @fantasy-innit @rat-poisin @wreny24 @deepestofwaters @exenestea @indecisivehusky @fallxnly @alm334 @skaratjung @punzcanrailme @sap-naps @denki-exe @angeltears18 @silvemistxe33 @andreamalik6 @kris-stuff @sun-fiower-seed @where-thesundoesntshine @dilfdream @esmegregory04 @itsparasocial @mlqcool @mcgoddess404 @rinatdawn @chaoscait @peppermintkisses @libbynotfound @speedrunningtherapy @lunxramour @aoonai @loraleiix @ghoulpixiie

#dream x you #dream x fem!reader #dream x y/n #dream imagine #dream x reader #mcyt au #mcyt x reader #cw gore #cw language #tw violence #tw death #tw angst #tw gore #tw suicide #tw blood

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whaleofatjme1920 · 3 years

Text

Antique Shops with Strange People Running the Counters (Jason the Toymaker X GN!Reader)

Antique Shops with Strange People Running the Counters

[Yandere! Jason the Toymaker X GN!Reader]

[Warnings: slight violence, emotional manipulation, slight language]

You feel your eyelids begin to close as you rest your chin on your hand. It felt damn near impossible to stay awake. The minutes seemed to pass like hours and all you could do was struggle to stay awake. It wasn’t your professor’s fault that this subject was so dull, it was just - yeah, the subject was so incredibly dull. Your writing hand struggles to even comprehend the words he was saying, and your notes look less than stellar.

“... And that concludes today’s lesson. I will see you all on Thursday,” he smiled, bidding his Tuesday class good afternoon.

You felt full of life and took in a deep breath before stretching slightly,then quickly moved to get your books together.

“See you later, Dr. Henderson!” You wave, quickly moving to the door.

“Bye, Mx. Reader, and don’t forget about the exam soon,” he smiles back, mirroring your wave as a friendly gesture.

“I won’t,” you chuckle.

From there, you’re out the door and walking into the midafternoon sun that kisses your skin gently. It’s warm, and there’s a slight breeze carrying the scent of Spring blossoms in the air. You take in another deep breath and start to juggle some thoughts in your head. At first, you wonder whether you should head home and relax in your room, maybe put on the radio. Then, you wonder if you should head to this darling antique shop you found earlier in the year.

Decisions, decisions. As you began to head towards the end of campus grounds, you decided on heading to the antique shop, not wanting to head home just yet. Besides, you knew a big test was coming up, and the antique shop was rather quiet. You felt you could get your studying done there much better than you could at home where your family was constantly up and moving.

Making it the antique shop was a pleasant, short walk. You’d remembered the path and were able to make it there virtually on autopilot. You passed by a few other odd little shops, mostly convenience stores and some mom and pop restaurants and silently wonder if you’d ever frequent those establishments. Most likely not.

The shop itself was not named anything monumental, just ‘Jason’s Antiques.’ What originally drew you to it in the beginning of your year were the things on display. Most of them seemed to be children’s toys varying in age range demographic, but they were rustically, and nostalgically beautiful all the same.

“Reader! How lovely to see you again!” A jovial male voice calls out, as your hands gently pulled open the glass doors to the shop. “Do you have a big test coming up?”

“Hey Jason,” you greet, stepping onto the store’s red licorice colored carpet. “Yeah, I do. How’d you know?” You inquire, taking a brief glance over the objects that have changed since last you’ve been in. You continue to walk further into the store to a little carved out place in the shop where a table probably from the 1890s rests followed by a chair from the 1910s. That’s where you often found yourself studying.

“Just had a hunch,” Jason chuckles, finally emerging from the back room. “Would you like any coffee? Tea?” He hums, shoulder resting on the door frame and awaiting your answer.

You toss the thought in your head for a moment or so before giving him your answer. You begin to get set up and ready for studying when you hear the door to the shop open followed by quick steps. Must be-

“Zinnia!” Jason’s pepped up voice says in slight surprise as you find he’s at your side, (when did he get there?) placing your drink of choice down on a coaster. It simmer slightly and smells heavenly. He always did know how you liked it. “Darling what are you doing here so late?” He questions, hands gently maneuvering the cream and sugar holders away from your books.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” Zinnia replies as her dark brown eyes avert from her boss’s lingering gaze. “There was something that came up and I-”

“No, no, it’s alright, dear,” Jason cuts her off with a slight wave of his hand, not wanting her to explain herself to him. “Try not to be late again, hm? Or I’ll gobble you up,” he finishes with a slight giggle, making Zinia laugh in response.

“Will do, sir,” she replies, brushing back some of her curly black hair.

You pull out your pen and wave slightly at Zinnia as she takes her place at the counter, sitting down and getting ready for any potential customers. Usually there were none.

Zinnia waves back at you, a slight glow coming from her brown cheeks as she beams back at you.

“Are you working on Dr. Henderson’s class?”

“I am,” you say. “He’s such a nice guy, but I can’t understand his work for anything,” you admit with a playful groan.

Zinnia laughs - it sounds beautiful - before she turns her attention fully over to you, “You want me to come over there and help? It’s not like anyone’s really coming in at like, 3pm on a Tuesday,” she leads off, looking at you with expectant eyes.

This does not go unnoticed by Jason, who frowns for but a fraction of a second.

You feel a slight heat come to your cheeks before opening your mouth to respond.

“Reader, why don’t I help you today?” Jason suddenly suggests, taking a seat across from you. Zinnia is immediately blocked out by Jason from your point of view.

The dark haired girl pouts for but a second before taking that as her cue to get back to work.

You look down at your notes, subtly at Zinnia whose eyes are trained at the front door before focusing back at Jason. He must really want her on top of her game today! Maybe it’s a lesson to tell her to come into work on time? “That’d be great, thank you,” you finally say before mentally biting down thoughts of Zinnia.

Jason hums and scans his honey colored eyes over your notes. “Let’s begin.”

My, does time sure fly! You and Jason went over practically everything from the quarter and when you recheck your watch, it’s 7pm. You really must be heading home. You and Jason begin to pack up.

“Thank you so much for helping me study,” you say as you pack in the rest of your notebooks. “I really, really need it.”

“It’s nothing,” Jason grins. “You work so hard, hopefully this one pays off.” The red haired man then glances over the table once more before nodding in approval - it looks like you have everything you need. “Now, do come back to tell me how that final goes.”

You stand up and stretch slightly before slinging your book bag over your shoulder, “I sure will! Besides, I love it here,” you finish with a small giggle.

Jason smiles warmly down at you (genuinely, you’re so adorable in his eyes-) before he pats your head slightly. “See you soon, darling. Get home safe. I’d walk you home myself, but I do need to close the place up.” It’s so saccharine you’re surprised you don’t have a cavity.

You then begin to head out of the antique shop, waving a goodbye at Zinnia who looks a tad restless at you leaving. She waves back. Right after you exit the shop, you hear the door burst open. On instinct, you whirl around.

“Reader,” she blurts out. “Sorry, I uh, had something to tell you?” She continues in a semi-questioning tone, like she’s not sure she should even be asking you.

“Yeah? What’s up?” You tilt your head slightly but smile at her to reassure her you’re not upet. You briefly take note that the streetlights are turning on.

“I uh- you…”

“Yes..?”

“Would you like to go out with me on Sunday? For like, brunch or something?” She rushes out so fast you’re not even sure you comprehend it the first time around.

“Woah, slow down,” you chuckle, walking a bit closer to her to gauge her reaction.

Zinnia sheepishly scratches at the back of her neck and suddenly finds the concrete so interesting. “Would you uh, like to go out on Sunday? It doesn’t have to be a date-date, it can just be a friend date or whatever else you want it to be, I just kinda want to spend time with you-”

You cut her off by resting your hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently to anchor her back down to earth. “I’d actually really like that,” you answer, eyes relaxing slightly while butterflies fill your stomach.

Zinnia breathes out a sigh of relief before giggling. Moments later, she’s hopped up at you and is wrapping her arms around your midsection, hugging you.

You laugh slightly and hug back, taking in the scent of citrus and honeydew.

“Okay, okay, I’m gonna let you get home. I’ll see you soon,” she finally says, reluctantly peeling herself off of you.

You allow the heat to leave your face and nod fervently, too high on bubbly feelings to even form proper words.

The two of you part ways.

Inside the antique shop, Jason’s wearing a face sourer than unsweetened lemonade. His eyes are subtly flashing between tones of gold to emerald, and it looks like his hair is about to go grey - no, white. In the backroom where he pretends to familiarize himself with storage, he can’t help but feel a certain anger bubble over within him. He’d kept himself at bay this entire time and now, that pesky girl at the front desk was going to get in his way.

“Zinnia? Dear?” He calls out in a sickly warm tone, attempting to mask the sheer animosity he felt for her.

Shoes padding on carpet were heard as he awaited his one and only employee in the backroom. “Yes?”

“Dear, can you please get the silverware down there? My back is hurting something fierce, and I’d like to set up the pieces in the display for tomorrow. After that, you may go home,” Jason replies, putting on a face of discomfort as he rubbed at his lower back.

Zinnia pipes up and nods, “of course!” She beams, then bends down to get the box. As her hands reach for it to pull it up, she finds it won’t budge. How strange? She continues her attempt to lift it while Jason watches her with glassy, emerald eyes.

He feels rage overtake his system, body changing to reflect his acrimony.

“It just won’t come out,” Zinnia mumbles, eyebrows furrowing as she pulls at it harder. “I don’t think I can get it,” she finally concludes, gazing at the box with defeat. “Was there anything else I could maybe do for you?” She asks, slowly standing up as to not let her head go fuzzy with the sudden change.

“Turn around.” The voice was dark, much too dark.

Zinnia, feeling chills run up and down her spine, hesitantly did so. Her dark eyes saw his, and then, she saw nothing.

You stood in front of the antique shop after about a week and a few days of not visiting. You felt a little odd at standing out front of the doors mostly because of Sunday. You had stopped by briefly around brunch time to walk to a restaurant with Zinnia only to find the entire establishment closed. She’d never called you either, which was even more concerning. She didn’t seem like the type of person to stand you up.

With a deep breath, you pushed the doors open and stepped in, once again greeted to that aging, red licorice colored carpet and various other knick knacks.

“Hello?” You say in a slightly questioning tone, wondering why the atmosphere of the place felt so different. Your eyes flitted around - nothing seemed too out of the ordinary. You continue further into the shop. The front desk was unmanned as well. Where was Zinnia? You were hoping to speak with her.

“Back here!” You hear Jason finally respond, voice sounding ultra chipper.

You place down your bag at the table you’d mentally deemed as yours before finally heading to the back room, a place you’d never really been before. Jason just… Never let you back there prior to. “Jason?”

“Back here, darling,” Jason’s warm voice continues as it coaxes you back further.

Was the back room always this big? You look at the boxes labelled with different time periods and wonder if they’ve ever been opened. However, as you travel deeper into the back room, you take notice how the number of children’s toys significantly piles up until you’re surrounded on all sides with things to entertain children. There’s also these odd wax figures you didn’t even know Jason had prior to. You observe them for but a moment at a time, finding them too ‘uncanny valley’ to even look at for too long. That must be why Jason doesn’t put them out front very often. Their eyes seem to watch you as you head further.

“This place is like a labyrinth,” you mumble, finally coming out of the dimness to an oddly lit room. You can tell there’s more wax figures crowding this room as well, only they’re covered in varying colored tarps. It’s freezing.

“Sorry to bring you all the way back here,” Jason says as he suddenly appears at your side, making you flinch for a moment. “I just had something to show you. Couldn’t lift it myself,” he admits sheepishly.

You flash him an uneasy smile, “I can’t stay for too long today-”

“This will take a second,” he tuts, teeth flashing at you like the warning rattle of a snake.

“Oh, okay,” you reply in that same on edge tone. “Also, do you know where Zinnia is? I was hoping to talk to her,” you trail off slightly, hands absentmindedly gripping at each other in an unconscious attempt to calm yourself down. You barely notice how his expression goes sour and his aura dims before it’s back to its peppy self.

Jason grins again - it makes your blood run cold - before he gestures to a figure covered with a purple tarp. “That’s what I wanted to show you,” he hums, strutting up to the covered figure. “Ta-da!” He beams, ripping the tarp off.

There, frozen in an expression of terror is Zinnia. One of her hands is clutching at her throat but her other arm is straight missing (you don’t recognize it at first, but it’s the arm that first reached out to hug you when she asked you out). Her legs are bent at awkward angles and the pain is practically dripping off of her.

You scream and feel tears welling in your eyes, immediately running up to the wax figure that you know really is her - that it isn’t some cruel joke. Your hands cup at her face and you sob in between your screams.

“What the hell did you do to her?!” You cry out in anguish, trying in vain to find a semblance of warmth (which doesn’t exist).

“Fixed her,” Jason says in passing, checking over his nails like this isn’t any big deal. You hear him stepping up gently behind you, hands seconds from resting on your shoulders. “She was such trouble, darling, you must understand-”

On instinct, you whirl around and slap Jason in the face. “How could you?” You seethe, eyes bleary from tears. “This is sick and inhumane!” You wail, pounding at his chest with your fists.

Jason’s eyebrows further, teeth bared as he watches you with frustration. “How could I? How could I not!” He retorts as he reaches out to grab your hands.

You only hit at him harder, but he does not budge.

“She touched you! She asked you out- she- she tried to take you away from me!” He spits like venom or perhaps someone so love sick they’re delusional. “How can you not possibly see that?”

From there, it’s a screaming match between the two of you with you unable to leave Zinnia’s wax-ified self. It’s not right, it’s not moral, it’s not - it’s not fair! Jason’s eyes continue to flash between golden and green (almost like envy every time you mention Zinnia) but you realize that you’re not safe.

None of this is afe or sane. You need to leave.

As if he was reading your thoughts, Jason growls, practically suffocating you in his grip. “You’re not going anywhere, you’re not calling anyone, and you’re certainly never thinking of this brat ever again,” he warns, ice freezing over his every word.

You thrash around in his hold, trying to breathe. “Let me go, you psychopath!” You screech, hitting at Jason and kicking as hard as you can.

Your human strength pales in comparison to powers you cannot even begin to comprehend.

Tired of your wailing and thrashing, Jason holds you tighter against you, suffocating you before wrestling you down to the ground. His boot grinds into your back, effectively binding you to the floor. You scrape your chin on the ground as he commands you to- “Look up.”

With tears in your eyes, you do so - hesitantly.

Jason’s face is devoid of any expression as he handles Zinnia’s wax figure and flicks it with his index finger, shattering it to a million pieces.

You cry out again, the energy sapped completely from your system letting sadness wash over you like a blanket. It wraps around you and envelops you in its coldness.

“Darling?” Jason’s soft voice asks, his boot finally moving from your back apprehensively to ensure you won’t fight him.

And you don’t. You make no motion whatsoever. You cry though. You cry so much you’re certain you’ll eventually hyperventilate.

Jason sighs deeply and scoops you up from the floor. “There, there,” he coos, no malice, anger or frustration in his tone as he rests you in his lap. “Come on, take a deep breath.”

You follow his command and do so, shakily breathing in and out.

“Good, good,” he hushes.

“She- you- Zin-”

Jason pouts and cuts you off by brushing his knife like fingers over your scalp. “Don’t talk about her. Look at me.”

Your eyes meet pools of honey.

“You have me, darling. You have me.”

The thought lingers, and then it stays.

#jason the toymaker #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #jason the toymaker x reader #jason the toymaker headcanon #x reader #reader insert #yandere #yandere vent #conversations with a fish woman

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perhaps-in-anotherdream · 3 years

Note

Hi!

How are your exams going on? I hope I don't disturb you. I wanted to ask, any picture of Victor which touched you very much? (it can be more than one.)

Wishing you a nice day!

Hiiiii Lys~ (｡^ ω ^｡)ﾉ♡

My exams are going pretty good thankfully. To be very honest, your question actually relieved me from the stressful times and let me fall back into the “deep marshland named Victor” LOL.

I think you can already guess some of the CG(s) I’m going to enlist, and they're WAY more than one. >.< And each one of them does hold great significance to me. Rather than the CG itself, it’s actually the meaning it holds. I very well might launch an essay here, please bear with me. 🥺

⌚ CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE MAIN STORY, DATES, FUTURE CGS AND EVENTS UNDER THE CUT ⌚

✧ S1 CH [ 18-16 ]

When I was going through the gallery, this CG suddenly reminded me one of MC’s monologues while trying to word her feelings about Victor in the latest SP.

“Since we have never held back from each other, even if I exhaust everything I have, I think it is worth it too.”

- Uncontrollable Factors

And the event of the CG above is a very good example of that. This was one of the darkest, if not THE darkest period in MC’s life. Everything and everyone in her life fell apart at that time. Metaphorically, the fragments of glasses became the physical representation of her life in that very moment – including the very person she made that cup for in the first place.

“That busted cup looked totally out of place next to him. Victor said he was going to bring back the past me, but did I really want to see him like this?”

- [CH 18-18, S1]

Even though she struggled at first, as you’d expect from someone trying to be strong, she ended up letting down ALL her defenses before him. He didn’t do anything special, just wrapped her in his embrace, sat by her side, and that was more than enough. At that moment she realized she doesn’t have to put up a front before him, ever. <regardless of however much he teases her LOL>

“Warmth permeated through my half-soaked clothes as I leaned on his chest. I was in complete disarray, but Victor didn’t seem to notice. As I breathed, his faint scent as chilly as a winter’s day slowly soothed my uneasiness and worry. Even if he had already forgotten me, it was still that same old, never-changing Victor.”

- [CH 21-22, S1]

This gets reflected more vividly through the winter world interactions. She ended up having a heart-to-heart conversation with a Victor who didn’t remember her [CH 21-23, S1], and him being the only exception before whom she didn’t even bother putting up a front at the beginning– in the Black Cabin [CH 24-12 split routes].

“...From beginning to end, he has been guiding me to forge ahead, using his methods, so that I can always run ahead of regrets. In the moments I was about lose my strength, he always appeared in time, and wouldn’t let me fall.”

“I look at his tall figure from behind. The cool breeze that was clogged in my throat, seems to entirely dissipate by certain warm cognition. No matter how, or what way the future changes, there will always be only one Victor.”

- [After the crisis, CH 4-10, S2]

“My both feet step on the ground unsteadily, and in the next second, I am suddenly taken into his arms. Warmth emanates from the chest I am leaning against, seeping through the half-wet clothes. Despite all my embarrassment, Victor doesn’t seem to care in the slightest.”

- [Natural Harbor, CH 7-2, S2]

Now for Victor’s vulnerability – for someone as closed off as he used to be, he didn’t mind her seeing him as a total mess, neither did he care about entirely dropping off his calm as the mountain amidst the calamities appearance before her.

“He slept fitfully, his brows tensed, as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.”

- MC’s POV, Behind the Curtains 04

“I just squatted by him, took out a bandage and tapped up a wound on Victor’s finger. This was all I could do.”

- [CH 18-18, S1]

To certain extent, this particular event made their pillar of mutual trust and working together as partners as the story progressed forward- unwavering as ever. And it’s very important for two people to realize they can and should be vulnerable and open in front of each other. Then and only then, that love will have the resilience to survive through TEN THOUSANDS years and more, literally and figuratively.

✧ S1 [CH 27-10] & S2 [CH 17-4]

Need I say more?

I had to put these two together because they are inevitably linked with each other. I have already made a post regarding the pinky promise, when I didn’t even know what was going on in the 2nd CG – although my assumption was correct. :'(

The 1st CG is the long awaited reunion after the whole thing of S1 CH 18. The 2nd CG is the re-enactment of that S1 reunion moment and this is the 2nd elaborate “re-enactment” scene so far in S2 after the CH 10 wish carving on the tree.

What’s ironic about this S2 CH 17 CG is that, this was another one of the lowest times in MC’s life. When MC is reminiscing her S1 reunion with Victor, he is not physically present in that room. She’s only imagining he is there.

“There are many things waiting for me to do. But I still need some strength and courage to withstand the restlessness in the depth of my heart.

It’s dark in the room, which inexplicably makes me remember a long-awaited reunion – a very long time ago.

My eyes were blindfolded by the fabric. But I still impatiently wanted to confirm that, the person in front of me was him.

I wanted to hear his voice, wanted to hear him call my name.

....In this way, I can feel at ease.

And for this reason, I also made a promise with him in a very childish way.

Thinking of the scenario at that time, I cannot help but laugh a little, and follow after the memory of the action by stretching out my hand.”

- [ The Agreement Across Time and Space, CH 17-4, S2 ]

This not only shows how deep her feelings run, but also reflects just how much impact he has on her — both then and now.

“Those memories related to him are akin to a room that will never fade into ashes, in this prolonged time – hosting me again and again.”

- [ Reunite Date (相逢之約), S2 ]

✧ S1 [ CH 37-4 ] - Victor Route

JUST LOOK AT THEM. JUST. LOOK. 🥺

The one on the left – surviving through countless moments of life and death for ten thousand years and more, countless unlisted sacrifices. The other on the right.... apart from the “ten thousand years” – rest is pretty much the same. But alas, this moment of peace was fleeting as well. :'(

I shall refrain myself from quoting anything here, because I’m afraid that I might end up quoting the entire chapter. However this two instances.... *hides in a corner*

MC: All I want is to be your dummy. I want to live the most ordinary, the plainest life I can. I will let you have endless worries every day, and endless proposals that need to be approved, and I will bring you all sorts of trivial worries.... Then in the blink of an eye, y- you can.... <Chokes up>

- [Victor Route, CH 37-5, S1]

→•←

“My only wish is to be together with him. Being joyful and giggling is not too bad, neither is a bumpy and difficult road. As long as I can steadily nestle in his arms like this.... I don’t want anything else. But what’s more important than this wish of mine is.... It’s Victor himself. He can’t just accept his end like this.”

- [Victor Route, CH 37-5, S1]

→•←

On another note, see those scattered photographs?

★ Fairytale Date – Victor promised MC, he can give her a fairytale ending. Needless to mention what he did to try and make that happen. :'(

★ Warm Winter Date – “No matter how much time or space separates us, nothing can come between us.” ♡

★ Eternal Promise Date – They tacitly made the vow of loving each other for eternity with the exchange of heart lock and key. ;-; ~ ♡

✧ Rooftop Date & Eternal Promise Date:

LOOK AT THE CONTRAST IN.... EVERYTHING.

★ Rooftop Date - Victor opened up for the first time about his mom, and this guy really loved his mom beyond words – for which he even traversed through timelines at a very young age, causing himself endless suffering, only to be doomed to no end [R&S Fleeting: CH 33-34 ] – the exact way it ended up with MC every time until CH 36 happened.

The intensity of his love for his mom is described in details in this R&S: ♡♡

Needless to say, opening up about his mom to MC was a huge step for him. And giving him the Shiba-Inu doll which her dad gifted her was a huge step for MC as well, and she gifts him that same doll in S2 [CH 4-13].

★ Eternal Promise Date – Apart from the heart lock-key exchange, Victor surprised MC on his own birthday by taking her to his departed mother’s house. The rest.... *wails* and he looks so happy.... ;-;

✧ Deep Love Date & Taste of Life MQ:

★ [1st one] THE ELDREDGE KNOT! THE ELDREDGE KNOT!! THE ELDREDGE KNOT!!! Seriously, I will never stop yelling about that knot. 🥺

★ [2nd one] JUST LOOK AT THEM. 🥺

Actually I’ve already written a huge essay on the importance of that knot, how these two dates complement each other, reflect their growth as partners and individuals, and how they switched places with each other– completing another circle.

I will link it here for the convenience: ♡♡

✧ Rainy-Day Date & Sleepless Night MQ:

★ [1st one] – This is actually my PC wallpaper. The date and the CG itself speaks for what I mentioned at the very beginning of this post. In their dating universe, at that point in time – MC had the worst day of her professional life, and again, she let down ALL her defenses before him.

Again, he didn’t do anything special. He showed up just at the right moment, stood there in the rain with her, pulled her into his arms, listened to her problems, told her again (1st time was in “Taste of Life” MQ) he is just an ordinary person like anyone else who has his own weaknesses, and that was more than enough to lift her up.

Victor: I’m no different from you. There are many things that are simply beyond my capabilities. So you don’t have to act strong. It’s okay if you fail. Don’t suppress your emotions. I won’t tell you to force yourself whenever you face a challenge. It’s just not realistic. But one day, you will become a better person with enough courage and experience to handle all challenges. [...] But before that, I hope you can learn to rely on me. You always have the right to be vulnerable when you are with me.

- Rainy-Day Date

→•←

“I knew I could run to his arms whenever I was in the lowest point in my life. If I was a little boat drifting away, he would be my only safe haven.”

- Rainy-Day Date

To prove the authenticity of these words, even one of Victor’s chapters in S2 (CH 7-2) is named as “Natural Harbor.” ;-;

★ [2nd one] – This was the first kissing SP karma and I still remember how psyched I was when it was first released LOL. It was released exactly a year and a few months from the “Rainy-Day Date.” And this date reflects just how much MC needed those assurance, winning her big media award - and living the fruits of her dedication with him by her side, which gets a new level in the “Uncontrollable Factors MQ.”

“After giving my thank-you speech, I happily raise the trophy towards the audience. Victor smiles faintly, joining me as we face the applause of the audience. At this moment, a sudden surge arises in my chest. I can’t help but turn towards him. He happens to turn his head towards me at the same time. The smile in his eyes is even more striking than the spotlight.”

- Sleepless Night MQ

We also get another tiny glimpse of just how much she wants him to be by her side.

MC: I had a selfish reason for wearing these earrings today. You gave them to me, so I hoped they would bring me good luck, and also.... It would be as though you were on the stage with me as well. I didn’t think that….

- Sleepless Night MQ

We get another tiny glimpse of just how much she wants to be by his side.

“For such a long time, I’ve been continually working hard and never letting any opportunities slip me by. Apart from the passion I have for the program and being a producer, it’s also because.… I wanted to stand on a stage that he had walked on, and stand at the same place he stood.”

- Sleepless Night MQ

And we get another affirmation that they will stand and fight together no matter what life throws in their way.

Victor: The future you foresee, as you said it yourself, has both flowers and thorns. Are you ready for it?

I nod subconsciously.

Victor: Me too. No matter how far you go in the future, I am prepared… to never let you go for eternity.

I will continue working hard and running forward, and he will always be by my side – becoming the deepest source of strength in my heart.

- Sleepless Night MQ

✧ Exhibition Date:

This was the first date in which they talk about “leaving traces” of their own on each other- which afterwards becomes a very frequent topic in their dates, and several dates being based on this topic specifically, including the latest SP date. Given their storyline – it’s understandable why it’s so heavily emphasized on.

On another note, They say, “Eyes are the window to the soul.”

I could stare at this CG for the rest of my life and I’m not even kidding LOL. Just look at the tenderness in his eyes, threatening to overflow through the screen. Yep, that’s the man who braved ALL the OTHER-WORLDY dangers, sacrifices literally for endless years and countless times – only to return to her side. And that’s the girl who knows she is SO DEEPLY loved like that by someone. And all the pain she has braved is worth it too, because as she said it herself –

~ ♡

#THIS TURNED SO HUGE #I'm so sorry Lys :<#mlqc victor #mr love victor #mlqc li zeyan #mldd victor #li zeyan #mlqc #mr love queen's choice #李泽言 #恋与制作人 #love and producer #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers

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amjustagirl · 3 years

Text

Chapters: one. ~ two. ~ three. ~ four. ~ five. ~ six. ~ seven. ~ eight.

Wordcount: 2k

Summary: Being with Miya Atsumu is like chasing a storm - equal parts exhilaration and danger. After all, it’s impossible to tame a storm

Masterlist here

AO3 link here

Author’s Note: And we’re at the penultimate chapter! Am rly excited to hear what you guys think - so please, drop me an ask, a note, a comment, anything!!! Thank you for following this fic with me <3

He stays away from her over the next two weeks. He still picks Shino up from childcare - he’s never leaving his little girl again - but takes Osamu’s advice to duck into the kitchen the minute he hears the bell chime to mark her entrance into the shop.

‘Is everything alright with Atsumu?’ he hears her ask Osamu after a week of radio silence from him.

He imagines Osamu just shrugs, because his twin later gives him a look of askance that he ignores.

‘Meet me on Sunday afternoon? Was hoping to have a quick chat and pass something over to you since my arm is out of its sling.Osamu agreed to take Shino for a couple of hours, so don’t worry about her’, he texts her.

‘Fine’, she texts back. ‘Works for me’.

‘Hey’, he greets her as she opens the door, fighting the impulse to scruff his shoes into the ground like a nervous schoolboy on his first date.

‘Hey yourself’, she responds without heat, slipping on her shoes. ‘Shall we?’

He nods, turning on his heel and she follows suit, their footfalls matching in pace, though they angle their bodies to avoid each other’s gaze in the lift. They do not exchange a single word until they reach the car park, and he leads her past all the cars to a dim corner, lit by a single flickering electric bulb.

‘Atsumu - what’s this?’ she says, staring uncomprehendingly at the motorbike parked in front of her, the exact replica of the bike she sold when she got pregnant with Shino, albeit updated with a shining coat of new paint and the latest modifications, top of the line.

‘Surprise?’ he tells her, unable to hide a grin when she runs a hand reverently over the seat of the bike.

‘I can’t accept this, ‘Tsumu. It’s too much’, she demurs but he knows she’s fallen in love when she’s unable to tear her eyes away from the bike.

‘Sure ya can! I registered it under yer name, and paid for the parking fees for the year, and look! It even comes with a helmet!’, he assures her, crossing his fingers behind his back. ‘Ya can ride it whenever ya have time to yerself - I’ll make sure I or ‘Samu will take Shino-chan for a couple hours every weekend so ya can go break some speed limits on the bike!’

‘This isn’t a bribe, right? Or some attempt to trick me into agreeing into something I don’t want to do?’ she asks him suspiciously.

‘No - no tricks, I swear on my life. Look - I’ve signed the divorce papers, they’re in my bag. I just wanted to give ya the bike as a partin' gift’, he says, keeping his voice deliberately light.

She stares at him, searching his face for any sign of duplicity, but he holds her gaze until she turns away, satisfied.

‘You never do anything by halves, do you ‘Tsumu? But thank you anyway’, she laughs breathily and his heart lurches to a start when he sees her slowly start to glow whilst fussing over the bike, exclaiming to herself as she admires the paint job and the extra compartments he’d gotten the mechanic to install.

Watching her brings back memories of their adventures together before Shino came along. She’d pick him up for a ride to the outskirts of Osaka on their rare days off, in search for a spot to lay their picnic mat down and shoot the breeze. They’d never found that perfect picnic spot, but that just meant that there were more places to explore, more roads to traverse, more adventures for them to go on. That’d all stopped once Shino came along, and he wonders if they wouldn’t be in such a state if he’d put in more effort to carve out more time for them.

And even before that - there was the time she’d surprised him by turning up in Kobe for one of his matches, sweeping him away from his confused teammates right after the match to celebrate over egg mayo sandwiches at 7-11. He suspects that was the day he’d fallen in love with her, half realising that she was probably the only person crazy enough to burn hours on the road on the back her rusty old bike right after an exam, just to stay up all night sitting cross-legged in a dim combini with mayo in her hair, listening to him ramble about his volleyball match.

Wow. 'Samu's right. Even the reason he fell in love with her was fucking selfish.

‘Hey ‘Tsumu’, he hears her say after a while and he looks up. ‘Wanna go for a ride?’ she asks brightly, twirling the keys around her finger.

‘Huh?’ he responds, genuinely perplexed.

‘A ride, you idiot. Don’t you want to find out how the bike feels on the road, especially since you’re the one who paid for it?’

‘Sure’, he says, a little lost - but then again she’s always found ways to keep him on his toes. ‘But there’s only one helmet’.

‘I still have my old one upstairs. Give me a second so I can get it!’ she rushes off, a spring in her step he’s sorely missed seeing and despite the ache in his heart, he smiles.

His smile vanishes the moment she kicks the bike full throttle and hurtles through weekend Osaka traffic at breakneck speed, making such sharp turns he almost falls off the bike if he weren’t already clutching her waist for dear life. ‘Oi! Look out!’ he yelps, as she weaves her way through narrow gaps between cars, seemingly deaf to the horns of outraged drivers behind her - and fuck he wants to puke but can’t because there’s no way that doesn’t end badly for him.

‘Slow down, you fuckin' maniac’, he manages to shout when his stomach gives itself up for dead, but the wind swallows his words and she only whoops in response. The neon city lights blur into a mess of colours and he runs through his repertoire of curse words. He swears she’s evil - it’s not enough that she’s killed him once by divorcing him, her insane riding is going to make sure he’s doubly dead.

They burst onto the highway in a squeal of tires, the city skyline fading into a sea of lights, and they’re both so focused on the road ahead of them, well – she is, at least, he’s trying his level best to stay on his seat - that neither of them notice the dark clouds gathering above until the first splatter of raindrops on the road.

The sky is threatening enough to make her swerve off the highway into a quiet neighbourhood, screeching to a halt at the nearest park with an empty shelter large enough to fit both of them. They jump off the bike, helmets dangling over their arm, and she catches hold of his hand as they splash their way through muddy puddles in a bid to escape the incoming storm.

‘That was amazing!’ she laughs when they reach shelter, twirling on the tips of her feet, cheeks flushed pink with excitement, looking so happy and bright and alive - like a bird spreading its wings to fly high in the sky, the way she used to be before their marriage broke her wings and shackled her to the ground.

If only he hadn’t been blinded by the false allure of his dreams to appreciate what was right in front of him - a woman bold enough to whisk him away from the clutches of deranged fans on the back of a motorbike, fierce enough for Osamu to assign her to deal with his bullshit - and most of all, crazy enough to marry and have a child with him. And he knows she isn’t his, not anymore, but he's a greedy, selfish man, and he wants her one last time, so he throws his jacket over her shoulders as a pretext for drawing her close to him, slanting his mouth gently over hers.

She stills for a second, and he’s about to pull away when she melts into him, tilting her chin up to grant him greater access to her lips. An unexpected heat coils in his stomach when she tangles her fingers in his hair, scraping her nails against his scalp, a thrill running down his spine as he loses himself in her familiar softness and warmth and groans.

She gasps, jerking away from him, tracing her bruised lips with her fingers, looking up at him with wide eyes.

‘Tsumu’, she begins to say, but he cuts her off, frantic with worry that he’s scared her off before he’s had the chance to say his piece.

‘I’m sorry - I know I shouldn’t have but I just...can I just say what I meant to say to ya before this?’ he asks, banking on the fact that she hasn’t slapped him yet, and to his relief, she nods.

‘I’ve thought about what ya said, and yer right - I’ve taken so much from ya I don’t deserve to ask ya for anything else, not when I should be the one making it up to ya for the rest of my life,’ he says, his heart cracking beneath his ribs (so it’s true, a heart can actually break) – because he knows now she’s lost to him, has been the second he'd forsaken his vows and stormed out of her life, but he gulps a breath to calm his pulse, forcing himself to continue on.

‘All I want is for ya to be happy and free - and if signing these papers is the price I have to pay, I’ll do it for ya’. Then he draws the brown envelope from his bag, holding it out to her with shaking hands.

She makes no move to take it from him.

‘Do you even love me, ‘Tsumu?’ she asks, her voice feather light, a wisp in the wind. ‘Be honest with me, you don’t have to lie’.

There’s a searing pain in his chest and he closes his eyes, losing himself to the undercurrent of regret pulsing in his mind.

‘I do’, he manages to choke out, peeling aside the rotting layers of vanity and greed and selfishness and pride to flay his chest open to present his heart to her, in all its bleeding, broken glory.

‘Yer everythin’ I could’ve ever asked for, and it’s killin’ me to watch you walk away - but I deserve it cos I’m a fuckin’ idiot for not realisin’ that sooner, and ya have no idea how fuckin’ sorry I am for hurting ya so badly and making you think that I don’t love ya - because I do, gods, I do, I love ya so goddamned much.’

‘Does our marriage mean that much to you?’ she stares at him, her eyes clouded with an emotion he can’t make out.

‘Yes’, he says simply, his response both a confession and a prayer. He makes no move to touch her, fearful that any misstep might tip them both over the edge, the storm of emotions swirling within him already threatening to swallow him whole.

‘Then ask me again, ‘Tsumu’ she whispers, her fists clenched, trembling by her side.

He blinks at her, but his confusion morphs into elated disbelief when she takes the brown envelope from him and rips it cleanly in half.

Oh.

‘Ask me again, ‘Tsumu’, she repeats, the clouds in her eyes clearing into pools of light. He wonders if it mirrors the rush of warmth and love and most of all - hope, overflowing in his heart.

‘Wanna try jumping off a cliff again?’ he asks, voice shaking, echoing the request he made of her years ago.

She steps forward into his waiting arms, her smile like golden sunlight spilling through grey rain.

‘Only if you promise to jump with me’, she says softly against his chest.

He catches her forgiveness desperately in his hands, and seals his promise with his lips.

#haikyuu #hq #haikyuu!!#haikyuu writing #hq writing #haikyuu imagines #hq imagines #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #atsumu x y/n #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x y/n #haikyuucreations #miya atsumu #miya osamu #inarizaki

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imagineabrighterworld · 3 years

Text

Tsundere!Tenya Iida x Reader

A/N: Request from @coledrawsstuff , hope you like it! ^^

You meet him at the entrance exam

It was the day of the entrance exam, and you couldn't be more excited and terrified. You ran to the gates, opting out of using public transportation should you be late to the test, which meant you were already sweating despite the crisp breeze. Amid the students waiting to enter the testing room, you can't help but notice a boy stretching in blue gear. It was a little confusing, as it was yet to be the battle simulation test. Why was he stretching for.. Writing?

Suddenly you were grateful to have the excuse of over exertion on your side as you feel your face begin to warm.

He was.. Impressive looking. Though he was intimidating with how serious he was, he had the body of an Adonis.

Though you should have been studying your notes to prepare for the test, your eyes were glued to him. But your rational brain managed to snap you out of your gawking just enough to go back to the matter at hand.

Closing your eyes, you focus on the vibrations of metal around you. From a vending machine three miles away, the water fountain one block away, and to the steel charm in your palm, you relaxed and let your magnetism do it's work. You had to be in harmony with the metals you attracted, and this was the easiest way, just letting the metals come to you. Not that you were going to summon a vending machine to pummel something. That would make way to much of a scene. So you continued your little practice.

Meanwhile, you let your mind drift to the muscular boy in glasses.

Unfortunately your magnetism attracted something else too, or someone else

In your defense, the boy was built like a brick wall, which was hard not to look at. You couldn't help but wonder how much training and what kind of strict regimen it took to maintain a body like that. You surely didn't have the energy to maintain a system like his.

“What are you doing?!”

A voice snaps you out of your thoughts, causing you to stumble forward and smack into something sturdy. “Huh?” You look up, throat turning dry as you stare directly into the eyes of the Adonis himself.

He glares at you, his glasses catching the light and obscuring his dark blue eyes.

You hold back a squeak and back away, giving him an extra two feet of space. “Sorry about that, I didn't mean to-” Your body pulls itself back to him, causing you to bump knees with him.

You look downward and find the cause of the scene. He had engines in his calves.

Oh goddess..

You release your magnetism, tripping over your own two feet to create more space between you two. “I swear it wasn't intentional!” He holds your gaze for a moment, his mouth open as if ready to chew you out, but before he can the Pro Hero Present Mic yells over the cacophony of students, telling them it was time to start.

The boy mutters something under his breath and walks away, dropping to the ground and launching himself through the doors, bypassing a green haired boy that looked as nervous as you.

You give the frozen boy a sympathetic nod before running after the other students that had already begun their conquest of Battle Block B.

“Please don't let me find him.” You mumble to yourself.

You had laid out a trap and magnetized the robots to crash into each other, crunching them up into a ball of scrap metal

It was some miracle that the test was within the normal use of your quirk, so you were able to make a quick strategy on how to gather up points. You were uneasy of course, because they must know that there is bound to be a kid with magnetism or ferrokinesis on their side. Keeping that in mind, you build up on your plan for aiming for the top spot.

So far the test had been a breeze for you. With your magnetism you managed to pull the robots into themselves, crushing them like wads of scrap paper. Occasionally you would spot the green haired boy, feeling pity for him when he would arrive just a little too late to gather points. You were tempted to help him, but with the clock counting down, you did whatever you could to get more points for yourself. You were at thirty seven and were working on getting an extra six points by creating a giant trap. It wasn't something you had practiced before, magnetizing more than two large objects at a time, but you had little choice if you wanted to enter the hero course.

Gathering your strength you pull your hands together and magnetize three of the giant robots to clash together, but by doing this you miss seeing a fourth robot readying to bash you into a demolished building.

He saves you from a robot about to blast you, running and catching you in his arms

Tenya Iida was many things, he liked to believe that chivalrous was one of those qualities. As a member of the prominent Iida family of heroes, he strived to make his family proud. He put all his might into the test, knowing that the faculty were watching everyone with keen eyes, seeing how they assessed each situation and complication. But what he did not take into account was you. You threw him off his groove, off his calm mentality. Even now he wondered how you were fairing against the robots. But he didn't have to ponder for very long as he saw a level 2 villain bot prepare to smack you aside.

He had no time to warn you as his instincts kicked in. Engines blazing, he jets towards you, scooping you into his arms and carting you both to a safer direction.

“You must watch out for yourself! A hero is vigilant and always aware of their surroundings! You could have been badly injured!” He yells at you, unsure why he felt so peeved. You wouldn't have died, the heroes knew to hold back enough for a simulation like this. And yet here he was, angry with you, someone he barely met.

You release your magnetism on the bots from earlier, knowing they were turned to scrape when you heard the resounding clang of empty metal. “I-I was fine!”

But of course he did not believe you. He just- it was frustrating to see you defend yourself when you didn't know the situation you were in!

He sets you down and runs off, barking from over his shoulder as he moves on to gather more points. “Keep an eye on your surroundings!”

Towards the end of the exam he realizes what your plan was and swoons on the inside

With the exams over, Tenya returns home and waits for his brother to drive before retelling the story of how his experience was. He made sure to include the people he got to meet, which included you.

“Maybe that was their plan.” His older brother Tensei says while using his chopsticks to dunk a dumpling in a dish of sauce. “Gather the battle bots to use them as a wrecking ball. If you don't have a weapon, you make one.”

Tenya pauses in his eating, covering his mouth to hide his mid bite into a cabbage roll.

Was that your plan? Were you just making yourself an opportunity? Did he squander your work?

His mother laughs while his father smiles at him as he shakes his head.

“Next time you see them, apologize.” Tensei winks. “And don't just go picking up people without reason.”

You are in 1-A, taking the place of Hagakure, meaning you were far in front of Iida

When you received word of entering U.A.’s hero course, you were absolutely ecstatic, nothing could ruin your mood! Except maybe the dreaded fear that engine boy would be joining you in 1-A..

Taking your seat in the front corner of the room, you fiddle with the steel charm on your necklace, latting it bounce above your fingertips and circle your fingers. There wasn't much to do other than to wait for the teacher to arrive. You were early, and gratefully so, as it took you awhile to find the classroom. Your nerves had begun to settle but as soon as the bell had run and the class filled with nearly all 19 students (excluding yourself of course), you knew what was going to happen.

“You there!”

Oh goddess.

The boy from the entrance exam walks up to you, towering over you as he stands erect in front of your desk. The steel charm you were playing with plops onto the desk with a light thud. “Yes?”

From the angle you were looking at him, it looked as though he were glaring into your soul, sending an uncomfortable chill down your spine.

He chops a hand in the air. “My name is Tenya Iida, of the Iida family! I apologize for what I did to you at the entrance exam, but you must show more care about your own well being! No one will be there to save you next time! We are supposed to be the saviors, not the saved!”

It takes you a moment to process his words, but by the time he moves to his seat, you have no chance to say anything.

What a weird boy..

You occasionally give him looks but are much too afraid to act

As class carried on and situations arised, you began to see past Tenya’s abrasive personality. He meant well, but he performed with such energy that it was difficult for you to relax near him. You wanted to be his friend, he was a good guy. You had heard his laughter and seen his smile with his small group of friends, and you thought it might be nice if he smiled at you like that.. But how were you to get through to him??

He too wants to get closer, but his personality makes it very difficult to discern anger from excitement

Tenya knows he's a bit on the.. Extreme side when he gets excitable, so he enlists the help of his friend Midoriya to talk to you.

“Hey um- over here?" Midoriya waves to you from his spot at one of the lunch tables. He was alone with just his tray, innocent enough, so you go to him. Despite being classmates you didn't get the chance to really talk with Midoriya before, so you figured now would be a good time.

"Hi, did you want to talk about something?" You question while sitting across from him, already picking up an orange to begin peeling it.

Midoriya looks down at his tray, hands fidgety. "Um, yeah. It's about Iida."

Your mood dips slightly, thumb accidentally jamming into the soft flesh of the citrus fruit. "What about him?"

"Do you.. hate Iida?"

This threw you off-course. You had been expecting him to talk up his friend and how great of a person he was, not question if you hated him. Because if you were being honest, you didn't hate him. Sure he intimidated you, but the way he acted around the others made you think he was just hard to get through. Sort of like Todoroki, though Todoroki still was in his own shell.

"I don't hate him." You pile the peels onto your tray, glancing around the room for Iida before biting your lip. "He's a little much.. but I think he's kinda sweet. He's just a little scary sometimes."

The boy in front of you sighs in relief, slumping slightly in his seat. "Yeah, he can be really excitable huh?"

You smile, "A little?" You mimic Iida's signature move of arm chopping the air.

Midoriya laughs. "Like that! But if you look past that he's a really good person. He scared me at first too. But, try getting to know him. We're classmates, and I think he wants to get to know you, he's just bad at it."

Considering his words, you pull the orange in half and offer him a piece. "I'll give it a try."

You two are paired for a project which leads you to slowly getting to know him better

For a class project, you had drawn lots to assign partners as there were obvious cliques already formed. Your teacher didn't like the idea of such bias and so the polling system was chosen instead. The girls urged you forward, trying to get your mind off of the odds of you picking the boy glaring at you from behind the class. Reaching into the box, your heart nearly burst out of your chest when you read the words Tenya Iida in perfect script. Trudging back to your seat after announcing your partner, you take a peek at him in the most subtle way you could, but to your dismay, he was already looking at you with his normal stoic face.

“Is this okay?”

“Of course it is! It is perfect!”

You jump in your seat, laughing nervously when Tenya yells, drawing attention to the two of you. You had scooted your seat closer to his in order to talk about the details of the project. It was a week-long examination of Pro Heroes and their strategies. In a way you were grateful for having him as a partner, he was well organized and fair, and wasn't too bad to look at either…

You pinch yourself on the cheek.

He was overall a good person, he was just so intimidating.

“Which hero do you believe is our best candidate?” He asks, nudging the list of names closer to you.

“I haven't thought of that yet.” You admit while taking hold of the paper. Your eyes widen curiously. “Hey your brother is on here!”

“He is?” Tenya leans in closer to look over your shoulder at the names, causing a pink blush on your cheeks. “You're right!” He announces proudly.

Looking at his jovial expression, something so different from his usual scowling (at least when you're looking) was refreshing, and caused a smile to form on your face.

“We could do the assignment on your brother, that way we'll get the best information!”

For the first time since you've met him, he smiles at you. A genuine smile.

“You're right, getting our information from the source will give us an advantage over the others. Our project will be flawless!”

Again, the damned color red rushes to your face, but this time he notices. Seeing your face turn pink caused an odd feeling to stir in his chest. Sure he had told himself he was wrong about you, like how he was wrong about Midoriya during the exams. But he never had the opportunity to say it to you.

Now that he had the chance, he.. He couldn't do it.

“S-Shall we set up a time to meet for the project?” He stumbles over his words. “For the project. That is due in a week. This project.”

You spare him the humiliation of telling him he repeated himself way to much and instead nod. “How about tomorrow afternoon. Do you think your brother will be free then?”

“My brother?”

“You know, to ask him questions?”

He blanks.

You giggle behind your palm, taking a pen and scribbling down your number before tucking it into his hand. “Just call me when you figure it out, ‘kay?”

He was an absolute mess, but luckily he had Tensei

On the day of your meeting, you get to the Iida household fifteen minutes earlier than you were supposed to. Unsure of whether to enter yet or not, you stay outside, sitting on the stone porch, admiring the koi pond in the corner. It was peaceful listening tenth bubbling water and the occasional chirping of birds. But not long into your wait, a boy looking similar to Tenya walks in through then front gates and to the porch where you sat.

The young man looks you over knowingly, a warm smile on his face as he offers his hand. “You're my little brother’s friend right?”

You take his hand and shake it firmly. “I am- I think.” You weren't sure exactly what you were to the young Iida really. He still acted rough and a little cold sometimes.

His brother exhales, his smile only warming. “Don't mind him, he's got some getting used to when it comes to socializing.” Unlocking the door, he beckons you inside. “Don't be shy, it’s safe to come in. I’ll grab him for you.”

You follow him inside, looking around at the pictures on the walls. “Actually we need you too.”

“Ah- right, right. Well, I’m here till five.” He speaks over his shoulder, loosening his tie as he walks upstairs to what you assume is the living space. “Tenya! Your friend is here!”

Straight away a loud thump sounds off from upstairs, followed by the sound of an engine and another thunk. You wince at the sound, smiling when you see Tenya walk downstairs with a red face and glasses askew.

Thats where the thumps came from.

“I apologize for my late arrival, I should have been the one to answer the door. My sincerest apologies!” He bends at the waist but you wave it off.

“Don't worry about it.” You hold up your bag where your laptop lay snuggly inside. “Lets begin.”

You finish the project in record time, leaving you with time for other things

It was no surprise to the class that you both received high marks for your work; you both were dedicated and reaching for the top spots in your class when it came to academics. But what did surprise them was how slow you both were when it came to your relationship. Be it romantic or platonic. So the girls set up a little something to finally speed things up. Hopefully you wouldn't kill them later for it.

Clutching a letter close to your chest, you stand in the middle of the training field, heart beating in your ribs like a wild horse.

The letter was not something you expected to receive. And it definitely wasn't from the person you thought you might receive one from. It was heartfelt and near-poetic, it was sweet and- the complete opposite of what you expected from Tenya Iida, the straight forward stoic.

Hell, you didn't even expect anything at all from him. Least of all a love letter.

During and after the project, you had to admit that deep inside his extreme exterior, he was a sweetheart. He meant the best and wanted only good things for others, but his excitement could make him.. terrifying. Still, you were willing to look past that and gibe him a chance.

If he would give you a chance..

When his figure finally appears, you squeeze the letter tighter in your hand, not even thinking of how crippled the delicately written note would be once you opened it up again.

He was dressed in his uniform, sweat gleaming on his skin. He must've ran all the way here after he was done with whatever business he had to deal with after school.

“You-” He pants, “You're really here.”

You furrow your brows. “I am. You wrote for me to meet you here.”

Tenya takes in a deep breath and exhales slowly, reaching into his breast pocket and drawing out a similar colored letter. “I was told to come here as well. By you.” He opens the letter, scanning through the words before stopping on a line. “Meet me at the training field by five o’clock. Please, don't be late.”

He tucks the letter away. “Those were your words, weren't they?” A strange look is in his eyes, and now you can't discern whether the color blooming on his face is from his run or from something else.

“It wasn't me.. I got the same letter, and I thought.. well.. I thought it was from you.” You open up the crumpled paper, looking over the confession that was written in delicate writing. It certainly didn't sound like his normal approach at talking, but maybe a part of you hoped that he.. liked you.

The two of you stay silent, listening to the whistling of wind passing through the trees.

“Did you think it was true?”

Your gaze snaps to him.

“..What?”

He looks down, a hand on his neck while the other still clutches the love letter in his hand. “Did you believe it? That I.. like you?”

You think back: your first day meeting him, asking him for notes, watching him take on challenges with pure passion, encouraging his friends and never giving up on them, the softness of his hand when he helped you down the stairs of his home when you twisted your ankle. There was moments where you believed you might love him.

“I hoped it was true.” You say quietly. “I hoped you liked me.”

Again, silence.

He looks at the letter in his hand, face ablaze with pink and red.

“The letter, wasn't far off from reality.”

You don't have to look at him to know he's moving closer to you. Your magnetism allows you to feel when he's inches away.

Now you look up at him.

“You’ve attracted me.”

It didn't take a magnet for your lips to collide.

#bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha tenya iida #mha tenya iida #tenya iida #Tenya Iida x reader #bnha tenya iida x reader #mha Tenya Iida x reader #tsundere Tenya Iida #really its Tenya being a giant unaware dork with no social filter #he's the slow fast boy #my beta is done with my shit #but we will go down like men in this fluffy soup bowl of feelings #I got new magnets and really liked the idea of a magneto kind of quirk #He was low-key high-key great

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hyucks-archive · 4 years

Text

september 19.

word count: 7,342

genre: fluff

member(s): the one and only lee donghyuck

warning(s): it’s a sort of feel good fic, so unrealism™

author’s note: @haeloce has spoken - ask & you shall be given! this post is dedicated to you my love, thank you for always supporting my works

September 19, 2017.

You look up at the azure sky, the gentle autumn breeze causing your baby hairs to tickle at your face. You close your eyes, breathing in the fresh scent of what you imagine to be of wilting leaves and fresh pumpkins. You shove your hands into the pockets of your block-coloured cardigan; while most prefer to stick to the monochromatic nude colour scheme in the autumn, you like to do the exact opposite. Summer is your season for monochromes, while autumn is your season for colour. There’s just something about contrasting the seasons that you’ve always loved to do.

Pulling out the ticket from your jean pocket, you hold it up against the backdrop – you smile, tilting your head to the side, eyes going back and forth between the photograph printed on the ticket, and the actual, three-dimensional scene in front of you.

“Looks even better than in the picture,” you murmur to yourself, shoulders dropping in satisfaction. You bring your hand down, allowing yourself to really take in the entirety of the one place you’ve hoped to visit for more than half of your life – the Nami Island. It first became popular because it was the filming site for Winter Sonata, but that’s not the reason you’ve always wanted to come. It’s the actual view that you’ve always been drawn to; the tree-lined roads, and the maple and gingko trees that would turn golden red and bright yellow in the fall. Autumn has always been your favourite season, but you’ve never really been able to really drown yourself in the things that are said to define autumn as a season.

You’ve always wanted to visit. But you’ve always only wanted to visit on a September 19th.

Why?

Because you first discovered the existence of Nami Island back in 2008, on September 19. You’re usually not one to care for such things, but when you have close to nothing to really look forward to in life, visiting Nami Island on a future September 19 became the only thing you looked forward to. Yet, it took you a good nine years to get here, because every September 19, you were never able to take an off day from your job at the café.

This year, however, you finally managed to. Granted, you only managed to, because you decided to stop being a beta, and start being an alpha. In other words, you submitted your application for an off day back in January, at the start of the year. It’s only because autumn is the busiest season for the café though. Autumn is the time where everyone rushes in for the pumpkin-flavoured drinks and treats. Autumn is also somehow the season that’s the most associated with coffee.

Placing the ticket in your wallet, you slide your wallet back into your bag, finally ready to begin your exploration of the beautiful island.

As you walk, you’re warmed by the site of numerous families and lovers, who scramble about, trying to get the most scenic shots of the island. There are two toddlers who are fascinated by the squirrel that dashed across the pathway, and another three toddlers who are busy picking at the fallen, dead leaves, while their parents attempt to buy steamed buns as a treat. Further in, there’s a waft of coffee, a scent that is all too familiar to you. You look towards the somewhat populated, hanok-looking café.

The atmosphere is so different from the café you work at. Here, it’s tranquil, there’s beautiful scenery to motivate you, and there’s zero signs of the hustle and bustle of city life (which is something you seriously detest). There aren’t business people who rush in for an americano before zooming out of the door, and there aren’t students who hog the seats to mug for their exams (although, you’ve been guilty of that at some point in your life). It’s just people who are here to really take in the flavour of the coffee, and to appreciate everything about the island.

You decide to buy a cup of tea to-go, just to support the business.

With the warm beverage in hand, you continue to venture further into the island, eventually arriving at a water body at the end of the trail. You look around, scanning the area. It’s even more peaceful here than it was back at the heart of the island; there’s barely anyone here.

You spot a boulder under the tree, so you decide that it’s a sign for you to take a seat, to enjoy your off day, sipping on your cup of tea, while listening to the soft, gentle sounds from the water. You really like this. For more than half of your life, you’ve spent it being overwhelmed by crowds, working ‘till your arms and legs go sore, trying to “get ahead” of everyone else. You’ve always quite liked the feeling of sinking in work, especially labour work, because it takes your mind off of every other thing that went on in your life.

Now that you’re older, and your body isn’t as lively and healthy as it used to be, you’re beginning to learn the importance of taking breaks. Sadly, it’s a little too late. The reputation that you’ve established in the café that you’ve been working at all along, is one of the ‘perfect-worker-who-never-ever-takes-a-day-off-even-when-sick”. You have this whole thing about not disappointing people that’s going on as well.

Sometimes you really hate yourself for it. You scoff – who are you kidding? You always hate yourself for it.

Even the thought of it makes your nose sting and your lips quiver. You blink fast; it’s a technique you’ve come to master, and it works absolutely amazingly when you’re trying to hold back your tears. Not everybody can do this, so you consider it a pretty big talent.

You hear the sound of dead leaves cracking, so you turn your head to the side, where the sound had come from, only to be greeted by a gigantic brown bear, that’s holding a tray of tiny cups, that you assume to be samples from whatever store this bear’s a mascot of. You notice the sunflower that’s pinned to the bear’s chest, reading the text out loud, “Smile! It’s a beary sunny day!”

You break out into a smile, murmuring, “Not the first time I’ve heard that one.”

The bear holds out a tiny cup, allowing you to take a peek at the brown liquid that fills it. “Is this coffee?” you ask, looking up at the face of the bear. It shakes its head, pulling out a card that he had hidden beneath the tray. He passes it to you.

“Try our brand new bear liquid! Contains everything bear-friendly.” You raise a brow, looking back up at the bear, “You know that doesn’t sound very appetising, right? No one’s going to want to drink,” you hold up both hands, gesturing inverted commas as you say, “bear liquid.”

There’s a hint of a shrug from the bear, before it reaches behind itself, bringing out a mini sunflower badge. It holds the sunflower badge out in front of you, gesturing for you to take it. “You guys give sunflower badges for free?” you ask, bringing the badge up close to inspect it. “That’s kind of a good marketing idea, actually,” you say, spotting the name of the café printed at the bottom of the badge. “But it doesn’t seem very cost-efficient,” you continue, poking the needle of the pin through your cardigan, hooking it back in, securing the pin on your left chest.

“Thank you,” you say, patting the bear on its shoulder, “You’re doing a beary good job.”

The bear holds out a thumbs up, turning around to take its leave.

You watch the retreating figure of the bear, wondering how tiring it must be for the person that’s inside the gigantic bear suit. Luckily, it’s autumn, which means cool weather, but it also makes you think about how tiring it must be for the bear in the summer. Getting up onto your two feet, you smile to yourself, “Well, I have nothing to do,” you whisper, allowing the curiosity to take over you as you leap forward, taking hurried footsteps until you spot the bear a short distance ahead of you. “I guess you’ll be my entertainment for the day,” you conclude, grinning widely.

You continue to follow behind the bear, taking cover behind trees whenever it gets stopped by a bunch of kids and their parents who wants a photo with it. It continues to give out the bear liquid, but you also notice that even though it has interacted with more than 50 different people, it hasn’t given out another sunflower badge. You wonder if it’s because it isn’t allowed to give out too many of those, which, obviously, would make sense. Then again, what makes you legible for the sunflower badge, and not the rest?

The thought swims around in your head as you continue to trail behind the brown mascot, the tiny cups of bear liquid slowly reducing in quantity.

You stare at the teddy bear sunflowers that decorate the exterior of the café. “Oh, that makes sense,” you think aloud, finally understanding why the mascot of the café is a big brown bear, along with the sunflower. You take a seat on a wooden bench, crossing a leg over the other, sipping on the tea that’s now cold.

Finally, the bear finishes giving out the samples of bear liquid. You watch as it poses with different children who are so amazed by the big, live-sized, animate bear. You take another big gulp of tea; it must be tiring, not only does it have to wear that heavy, stuffy bear suit, it also has to continuously entertain the tourists that come by every day. Because you’re so engrossed in your own thoughts, you fail to notice that the bear has spotted you. It wonders why you’re here.

“Oh, gosh,” you gasp, body tensing up for a split second. The bear is now suddenly in front of you.

“Hello,” you greet, smiling. The bear bows its head. There’s a pause, then you decide to break the silence with, “Do you talk?”

The bear gestures at its wrist, before folding an arm, resting its chin in its paw, tilting its head to the side questioningly. “You want to know the time?” you gather from its gestures. It nods its head, so you check your watch. “It’s seven thirty-two PM,” you inform. The bear claps its paws excitedly, and you react with a confused smile.

“I can talk now,” he speaks, sitting himself down beside you. “Don’t you have to work?” you ask.

“It’s two minutes past my shift,” he replies.

“Cool,” you say. You lick your lips, pursing them, then deciding that you should ask the question that would get you the answer you’ve been wanting to know. “Hey, can I ask you something?” you start. The bear turns to look at you, “You followed me all the way here just to ask me something?”

“Well, kind of,” you say, “Technically, I derived the question after following you.”

“So you admit you were following me?”

“I didn’t deny it to begin with,” you state nonchalantly. You can hear the bear smirk under his bear head. “You’re honest, I like that,” he says.

“Thanks,” you reply.

“Go ahead,” he cues.

“Why’d you give me a sunflower badge, but not anyone else? I thought this was part of your café’s marketing.” You point at the sunflower that’s still pinned to your cardigan. You hear the bear chuckle under its mask, its body folding forwards as he does so, a sign of amusement. “I gave it to you because I thought you might need it,” he explains, almost matter-of-factly.

You’re slightly stunned by his reply. You think back to the situation earlier – you were busy dwelling in the thoughts that make you feel sad, that by the end of it, you were blinking away tears. Just how much of that did the bear see? You’re uncomfortable just by the thought of it; it doesn’t feel right at all knowing that someone might’ve caught a glimpse of your weakness. You don’t want that. You don’t think you can live knowing that someone potentially saw you struggling.

“But don’t worry,” he begins, as though reading your mind, “I’ve already forgotten everything.”

“That doesn’t really reassure me,” you say, eyeline falling to the ground. The bear leans his body forward, mirroring your position. “It’s human,” he says. Your eyes travel up to look at his bear face. “I get really frustrated sometimes, too. But I don’t go all the way to an offshore island to release the stress,” he pokes, eliciting a small smile from you.

“I didn’t come here specifically to destress,” you share, “I came because I’ve been meaning to come for nine years already. I just only found the chance to now,” you finish.

The bear looks at you through its mesh eyes. When he first spotted you back by the water body, he saw the way your brows knitted, the way your lips quivered, and the way you were quick to blink away your tears. He felt bad for imposing on a moment that seemed so private, but he would feel twice as bad if he had just walked away, pretending like he didn’t see what happened. So he decided to build up the courage to go up to you – it worked out really well that he’s in the bear suit. In fact, it’s working out even better now, because he can stare at you, and you wouldn’t even know. He can sit beside you, talk to you like it’s nothing to him, because all you see, is a big, brown bear.

Still, he can’t deny the slight fluttering in his heart. It’s cliché, and it’s definitely not right. But he can’t deny, that he’s attracted to you. It’s superficial, he knows. But he’s also only going to be able to see you today, and today only. After which, you’d return to the mainland, while he’d remain here, continuing his job as a mascot of the café.

He likes the way you’re smiling fondly, just at the thought of being able to finally visit the island you’ve been longing to visit.

“Do you like the island?” he asks, mentally slapping himself for not being able to come up with a better question.

“Of course,” you say, beaming. “It’s everything I imagined. And,” you pause, “I got to meet a really friendly bear, too.”

His heart does another thing at your declaration. It’s foolish, he’s well aware. But again, tonight’s his only chance to experience this. Then, you’d be gone, and he’d be back to his regular daily routine.

“Do you live on Nami island?” you ask.

“I don’t. I take the first ferry here every morning, and the last ferry back every night. The pay is good, so I don’t mind the tedious travelling,” he shares. “Wouldn’t you rather just live on this island?” you question. “Do you know how expensive that is?” he replies.

You shrug, “Wouldn’t your total expenses spent on travelling equate to renting a place here?”

“I travel for free,” he says, “The boss pays for that. I bring in customers by wagging my bear butt, so it’s a fair exchange.”

You laugh, amused by the way the bear phrases its words.

“Must be nice,” you say.

“What about you? You look like a student, so I’m assuming you work part-time?”

The bear notes the smile you force out. He can see the slight bitterness peeking from your eyes. He mentally slaps himself a second time – he must’ve said something wrong.

“I’m actually taking a gap year right now,” you share, “So I’m working full time, to save up for school.”

He understands now. It’s odd, to say the least. He feels a form of connection with you, even though he knows this’ll never come to fruition. Still, even if it’s just for tonight, he’d like to be able to just talk about what he’s been bottling up for the last few years with someone. Even better, that this someone is someone he mildly feels attracted to, and whom will go back to being a stranger after the conversation.

“Somehow, you’ll feel that whatever you make, it’s never enough,” he begins, turning his bear face away. You wait for him to continue.

“No matter how much I earn, it’s not enough. I was once naïve enough to think that I’d be able to eventually fund myself to do the things I want to do, but as I’m ageing, I’m starting to understand that that’s not possible. It’s all fiction. Fantasy. It’s all what I conjure up in my head.”

Your shoulders sink upon hearing what he has to say. Why does it seem to hit the exact points? Why do you seem to be able to relate to his plight? In other words, there are other people out there, dealing with the exact same things as you?

“Don’t say that,” you manage out, trying to think as positively as possible for the both of you. “Money doesn’t buy happiness.”

The bear turns to face you, tone serious as he says, “Yeah, money doesn’t buy happiness. But money buys you the things that make you happy.”

You feel a sting in your heart. You’ve always tried to psycho yourself into believing that what you’re going through isn’t so bad. That you’d still be able to be happy, because money doesn’t buy anyone happiness. Because of that, you’d always feel guilty for not being able to find contentment in your situation. You thought it just meant you’re greedy.

You realise now, it doesn’t.

You try your best to paint on a smile. But the bear knows well enough that it’s all pretence. He wishes you didn’t have to try so hard to be okay. At least, not in front of him.

“Who knows where we’d be a year from now? We might even be doing the things we like,” you say, feigning a tone of excitement.

“We wouldn’t know where each other is a year from now,” the bear says.

“Will you still be working here, a year from now?” you ask.

“I’ve been here for six years now.”

“It must’ve been cute, to be able to see a bear mascot getting taller every year,” you comment, lightening the mood. You can hear the bear smile, which makes you smile in return. The bear’s heart does another flip.

“Anyway,” you say, “How about I see you, a year from now, right here?”

The bear’s breath stops for a moment – are you for real?

“Really?” he asks. You nod your head. “Really.”

“Okay,” he agrees, though you can’t see the goofy grin on his face.

“What’s your name?” you ask, only realising now that you’ve basically revealed just about everything about yourself to him, excluding your name, yet you don’t even know what he looks like under that bear mask.

“Donghyuck. Lee Donghyuck.”

“Donghyuck,” you repeat after him, smiling, “Nice name,” you say, telling him your name in exchange. “So Donghyuck,” you say, getting up from the bench. “A year from now, I hope I can walk away with my memory of you, not being a bear.”

Donghyuck chuckles, agreeing.

“See you in a year, y/n.”

September 19, 2018.

You hold the bag of carp bread to your chest, your heart filled with excitement. You’ve practically anticipated for the entire of 2018, for the 19th of September to come. It’s interesting how just one conversation, of course, filled with mutual understanding and relatability, had created such a connection between you and Donghyuck.

There hasn’t been a day where you didn’t find yourself thinking about Donghyuck. You’d wonder if he had earned enough to do something he likes. You’d wonder if he’s staying adequately hydrated despite the scorching sun. You’d even wonder, if he still remembers his promise with you. A part of you is obviously afraid that after making a trip down to Nami island, that the boy in the bear suit would’ve completely forgotten about you. A part of you is afraid that when you greet him with a smile, he’d look at you with confused eyes, questioning how you know of him.

Then again, an even bigger part of you is simply hopping around in absolute joy at the mere thought of being able to reunite with a friend. You’ve never been able to meet anyone that could relate to you, the way Donghyuck can.

Upon arrival on the island, you rush off the ferry, immediately heading towards the café he works at. It’s close to 5PM in the evening. You were held up at work, because your boss had insisted that you at least take the morning shift, which made you jittery the whole day because you weren’t sure if you’d be able to make it. Luckily, it wasn’t that busy today, so you were even let off ten minutes prior to the end of your shift.

Just as the café comes into view, you spot the giant bear hobbling about, playing around with the group of kids. You immediately break out into a bright smile, a sense of relief washing over you. At the very least, he’s still here, like he said he’d be.

You bring up the bag of carp bread – will Donghyuck like this?

Donghyuck smiles at the adorable children who are rushing to cuddle him. He isn’t sure of the exact time, but he can tell that more than half of the day has gone by, and there is still no sign of you. He’s beginning to think that maybe he shouldn’t have been so naïve in the first place, gullible enough to think that a random stranger would actually come all the way back to the island just to meet with him again.

Heck, he’s in a bear suit. Nobody’s ever going to like a person that’s in a bear suit.

“Look here,” a mother coos, holding up her camera. Donghyuck bends down beside the child, holding him close as the mother begins to snap numerous shots of her baby son. “Thank you,” the mother says, reaching for her child as she presses a loving kiss to his forehead, gushing as she whispers praises to her little boy. Donghyuck has a pursed smile on his face; must be nice for that kid.

Donghyuck isn’t given the chance to dwell on the topic because a rush of kids come by, screaming and yelling excitedly at the sight of the bear. He joins in, chasing the kids around, and that is when he spots the one person he’s been waiting for (a whole year).

You’re standing there, a bag in hand. He isn’t even able to control the smile that spreads across his face.

“Hey!” a child shouts, tugging at Donghyuck’s bear leg.

You bring the bag of carp bread back to your side, smiling widely as you make your way towards the bear. As though working in your favour, the kids begin to clear just as you approach your friend. You give a small wave, your heartbeat picking pace in fear that he might not remember you. Just as quickly, though, your heartbeat slows when he returns the wave. He points at the wooden bench that you were seated on a year ago, and you get what he’s trying to say immediately.

You head over to the bench first, taking a seat as Donghyuck poses for a few more pictures with different children.

Once he’s done, he jogs over, stopping a small distance in front of you.

“Look what I brought!” you say excitedly, waving the bag in the air. “It’s carp bread, because bears eat fish,” you giggle. You thought you were really witty to have thought of such an idea.

Donghyuck chuckles. Now it’s his turn to feel nervous, because he’s going to have to remove his bear suit to reveal himself, like he promised.

“Are you going to change out of that?” you ask, looking on with anticipation.

“I’ll be right back,” he says.

You wait patiently for the boy to return. He does, within five minutes. He tries to soothe his hair down as he approaches you, moistening his lips with his saliva, tugging at the end of his hoodie to make sure he looks decently presentable.

You look up, meeting eyes with a tanned skin, lean-looking boy, who is making his way towards you. You raise both brows – is that Donghyuck?

Sure enough, the boy stops just in front of you, scratching the back of his head in an attempt to let out his nerves. He smiles shyly, formally introducing, “Hi. I’m the boy in the bear suit.”

Your encouraging smile calms Donghyuck’s active nerves. He looks at you in the eyes, the same feeling of attraction he had felt a year ago, still evidently present a year later. He wonders if you feel it too.

“You know, you kind of look like a bear,” you comment, eyeing Donghyuck up and down. He rolls his eyes in response, scrunching his nose, “I don’t.”

“Here,” you say, holding out the bag of carp bread. “Eat your fish.”

Donghyuck scoffs, feigning offence, before taking the bag from you, and taking a seat on the bench, gesturing for you to sit beside him. He brings out a carp bread, splitting it down the middle. He hands you a half, and you take it graciously, biting a chunk off. “So how has your year been?” you start off, still in a little bit of disbelief that this is how Lee Donghyuck looks like.

For a whole year, the only image you’ve had of him, was the brown bear suit, with the sunflower badge. Even when you tried to imagine what he looks like under the mask; you’ve never came to the visual image of the being before you. He’s good looking, obviously, and by that, you mean that he’s way better looking than you had imagined him to be. There’s something that’s just really cute about his small little button nose, his doe eyes, and his round face.

“What you said was true,” he says, swallowing. “2017-me would’ve never been able to guess where I’d be a year later,” he continues, “I’m learning how to dance.”

You smile in pleasure, “I’m so happy to hear that.”

Donghyuck returns the smile. “What did you do for the past year?”

“I saved,” you say, smiling proudly. “I saved enough for now, so if I keep the momentum going, I’d have enough for university, too.”

“Then I guess it’s mandatory for me to tell you that you’re doing a great job,” he commends.

You feel something stirring in your heart. You’ve never been told that before. It feels funny, now that you’ve heard it. Donghyuck notices the change in your expression, and somehow, he knows the reason why.

“You can always come to me to brag and show off,” he says, tone gentle and encouraging. “I’ll always tell you how you’re doing a good job.”

You look at Donghyuck, meeting his eyes. He’s sending you signals of comfort through his gaze, and you’re receiving them well. Somehow, it’s only the second time you’re having a conversation with him, and it’s the first where you’re looking at the actual him. Yet, it feels as though he’s impacted your life even more than the people who’ve been in it for way more than he has.

“Want to know a secret?” you ask. Donghyuck nods his head.

“Back when I was younger, I was walking beside a classmate in school. We were about to go down the stairs, but she tripped on her own shoelace. She rolled down the stairs, and laid unconscious,” you recall, letting out a deep sigh at the end. Donghyuck looks at you with a brow raised, “And?” he prompts, urging you to continue.

“You’d think my first reaction would be pure concern for that classmate,” you say, focusing on the dead leaves that decorate the ground. You kick at a maple leaf, “But it wasn’t. When I saw the way everyone rushed forward, all attention on her, I thought to myself, ‘why wasn’t I the one who rolled down the stairs?’,” you take a pause, turning to read Donghyuck’s expression. He doesn’t seem to have any real thoughts about what you said.

“Twisted, right?” you end off with a pursed smile.

“No,” he states, taking another bite of his carp bread, completely unfazed.

“No?” you repeat.

“No,” he reiterates.

“Why not?” you question.

“Because,” he says, “It’s not abnormal to think that way.”

“You don’t have to side with me just because we are friends, you know?”

“I’m not. I just think that it isn’t crazy weird why you thought that way.” He says, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s kind of like how it is in my dance class. There’s this guy, his name is Jisung. He’s younger by two years, but his talent is more than double of mine. He gets a lot of love and attention for being the youngest of the team, and for being the talent that he is. Sometimes, when I see the way he gets praised for executing a move really well, I’d think to myself, ‘why wasn’t I the one being praised? I thought I did the move pretty well’.”

You chuckle at his kind attempt to try to make it seem as though what you had thought at the time was normal, though the circumstances are obviously far from being similar. Donghyuck is sweet, to say the least.

“I’m sure you dance well,” you say, eyeing his long legs, “You look like you’d dance well,” you correct.

“I’m serious about what I said though,” he says, reverting the topic, referring to how he’d be willing to listen to you brag any time.

“I might just take you up on the offer,” you reply, “As long as it remains valid, for a long, long time.”

“Are you trying to tell me to stay in contact with you?” he questions.

“You mean you didn’t intend to?” you raise a brow.

“You’d know where to find me when you need me, but I can’t say the same for myself for when I want to see you,” Donghyuck says, looking at you expectantly. Can you take that as a confession? Did he just say that he wants to see you?

Then again, so what if it is a confession?

You’re well aware of how you feel about the boy. You know that there’s a connection. You know that sparks are flying. You know. You know it all too well. But how can you be sure that Donghyuck is meant to be something more? You met him under circumstances that most wouldn’t even consider normal, and it’s barely the second time you’re talking to him. How can you be so sure, that he’s supposed to mean something more to you? How can you be sure that you’re only feeling this way, that you’re only feeling the butterflies and the somersaults inside you, because you’re truly attracted to him, and not because of how he makes you feel?

He makes you feel understood. That’s unfamiliar to you.

“Please,” you begin, in an attempt to try to brush off what he had said. “I kind of like that we see each other once a year.”

Donghyuck feels a light sting in his heart. “Why?” he asks.

“It makes our friendship special. How many people can say that they know of someone, who becomes their friend, on only one day out of the entire year?”

Donghyuck fakes a smile, “So you’ll be back in a year?”

“Yes.”

Donghyuck nods his head. Maybe he should just be happy that this means he’ll get to see you, at least another time, a year from now.

He shouldn’t be too greedy, right?

September 19, 2019.

It’s the third time that you’re going to be meeting Donghyuck. You’re starting to kind of understand what people mean by ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder’. Oddly enough, in the past year, Donghyuck wasn’t just a passing thought like he was in 2018. This year, he was quite a prominent thought. Sometimes, you’d even have sleepless nights, spent tossing and turning, just thinking about him. You’ve even gotten the urge to just go online to search for him, but there are so many Lee Donghyucks in the world, that you weren’t sure if you’d be able to find the exact one. It would also be a breach of your friendship terms, since the both of you are supposed to only rekindle every September 19th.

Today, you managed to take the full day off. You check your watch – it’s 10:47AM. Why have you arrived at Nami island at such an early hour? Knowing fully well that Donghyuck has a shift to fulfil?

Simple.

You miss him. A lot more than you’d like to admit.

Sounds silly, you’re obviously aware. How can you develop feelings for someone that you only see once a year, and that you barely know?

You’d like to think it’s just because of how curious you are as a person, which results in constantly being curious about Donghyuck. But again, that’s just you trying to talk yourself into denial. No matter what you say, you can’t deny that you’ve debated over fifty times about coming to Nami island before the 19th of September, knowing fully well, that he’d be here.

But every time you were about to purchase the ferry ticket, you’d stop yourself.

A year may have gone by, but the same worry still remains.

How can you be sure, that his presence in your life, is meant to be something more?

“Hey!”

Your attention snaps up to the familiar voice, the voice you’ve only been able to think of for the past year.

“Donghyuck?” you murmur. He isn’t in his bear suit today.

He dons a bright smile, jogging over towards you. “We must have more telepathy than we’re aware of,” he comments, chuckling to himself. You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips as you ask, “You’re not working today?”

“I took the day off,” he says. “I didn’t think you’d actually come this early, though.”

“And what if I didn’t?”

“I would’ve sat at that wooden bench until you showed up.”

His non-hesitance as he said that elicits a feeling of warmth to spread through your entire body. Donghyuck really makes you feel things, huh?

“You’d do that?” you ask, just so you can hear it loud and clear. Donghyuck smiles, nodding his head. “You would’ve done the same. Otherwise, what did you intend to do while waiting for me to end my shift if I were working today?”

Your smile only widens.

“What do you have planned for the day?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he replies.

“Shall we find somewhere to sit and eat then?” you suggest.

So five hours later, you’re seated opposite Donghyuck, empty plates and half-empty cups between the both of you. He has his arms propped on the table, listening intently to whatever you had to say. Conversation is easy when it comes to Donghyuck. He shows you that he’s listening. He makes sure to pay attention to what you say.

You feel the connection growing by the minute.

“That doesn’t justify why you’ve never dated anyone before,” he says, shaking his head disapprovingly as he takes a sip of his drink.

“Says you,” you retort, “But I’m sure if I showed my co-worker a picture of you, she’d go crazy.”

Donghyuck chuckles, “You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m not!” you defend, trying to put on the most serious expression you can possibly make. “She’s cute too. Come to think of it, she’s totally your type.”

Donghyuck furrows his brows. “What makes you think I’m into cute?”

You smile, rolling your eyes. “Okay, then what is your type?”

“Shouldn’t you know best?”

Silence.

Donghyuck’s just staring into your eyes.

Your heart is thumping so hard, so fast, you’re starting to lose feeling in your hands and legs.

You let out an awkward laugh – there’s no denying it this time. It’s definitely a confession.

“Very funny,” you say, trying to change the topic. “I have to leave already, I’m working a full-day shift tomorrow and I’m in charge of opening,” you say, getting up from your seat. Donghyuck follows after, allowing you to lead the way out of the eatery.

“Hey,” Donghyuck calls, taking your wrist in his warm hold, turning you around to face him. “Don’t you think it’s about time to tell me where you work? Or where I can locate you? Or your number, at the very least?”

You’re looking into Donghyuck’s eyes, and you can see the sincerity. Like him, you want this to be something more. But you can’t just turn a blind eye and rid the fact that you’re just not sure of what might happen in the future, and that’s what scares you. You don’t want to commit to something, at the expense of knowing all too well, that you might get hurt. What if Donghyuck was never meant to be a part of your life? You’ve seen it in the movies – when you let someone in, and they weren’t supposed to be in to begin with, it only ends in tears and sorrow.

“Look, Donghyuck,” you begin, trying your best to think of a way to get your point across accurately.

“What makes you so sure that we’re meant to be something more?” you ask.

Donghyuck’s brow twitches, a sign that he’s taken aback by your question.

“See? You don’t know it yourself. What if we commit, and it just bites us in the back?”

Donghyuck runs a hand through his hair, “How would you know that?” he counters, “What if it doesn’t?”

The both of you just stand there, looking into each other’s eyes, trying to find the answer you’re both looking for.

“I believe in fate,” you say, breaking the eye contact. “On September 19, a year from now, I’ll be working at the café,” you continue, eyes finding its way to meet Donghyuck’s once more. “It’s located in Seoul. If, on that day, on the 19th of September, 2020, you’re able to somehow find me, I’ll take it as the sign that you and I are meant to be something more.”

Donghyuck furrows his brows at your proposition, “But Seoul is so big, how am I supposed to-”

“If you can’t find me, it just means that’s the end of our connection,” you cut in. “And you can’t cheat. You can only start looking on September 19.”

Donghyuck thinks it’s the end. He doesn’t think it’s possible. But if he wants this enough, he’s going to have to try.

“Promise?” you ask, putting out your pinkie finger.

“I promise,” he says, hooking his finger with yours, pressing your thumbs together.

What’s going to happen a year from now?

September 19, 2020.

“Here you go, enjoy your drink,” you greet, passing the iced americano to the man in the suit. He tilts his head in gratitude, before scurrying out the door. You take a moment to stare at the door, it’s going to be afternoon soon, and there’s still no sign of Donghyuck. You wonder if he’s even taken up the challenge, and is actually going about Seoul right now.

“Why do you keep staring at the door today? Are you waiting for someone?” Eunha, your co-worker, asks. You shake your head, shrugging, “I just can’t wait to knock off, that’s all,” you lie. Eunha furrows her brows teasingly, leaning in close as she says, “Please, I’ve worked with you for years now. That isn’t your ‘I-can’t-wait-to-knock-off’ look,” she says, pulling back.

You roll your eyes, hitting her on the arm lightly, before re-busying yourself with preparing the orders of the customers.

Another few hours go by, and now, the sun is beginning to set.

“You’re staring at the door again,” Eunha lilts, a teasing smile on her face as she sips at her coffee. “Stop, I’m really just excited to knock off soon,” you say.

“If you want to knock off so bad, you can knock off now,” she says, placing her coffee down on the counter. “I’m cool with closing on my own tonight.” She blinks her big eyes a few times, smiling teasingly, knowing that you’d deny her offer.

“I can’t do that to you,” you say, laughing awkwardly, “Think about all the times you sacrificed your nights staying with me for closing. I ought to return the favour.”

“Ought?” Eunha repeats, giggling to herself. “You’re definitely hiding something.”

You roll your eyes, moving on to do the dishes to avoid slipping up any further.

Donghyuck sighs, coming out of the eighth café he’s looked into today. As expected, this is basically mission impossible. How is he supposed to be able to find you, when you didn’t even bother with giving him any clue aside from that it’s located in Seoul?

He looks around, trying to spot any other cafés that might be in the area, before he’d move on to the next.

There’s still a good few hours before the end of September 19.

He might still have a chance.

You bite down on your lip. It’s five minutes to closing.

“I guess we weren’t meant to be,” you murmur, eyes refusing to leave the doors.

“Whoever it is you’re waiting for, they’ll show up,” Eunha chimes in, continuing to wipe down the counter.

“What makes you so sure?” you ask.

“Because it’s my first time seeing you anticipate something like that,” she says. Eunha might not be someone you contact outside of work, so it’s easy to forget how well she knows you. But Eunha is right. You've never anticipated anything this much.

“I hope you’re right,” you say, pursing your lips.

You didn’t know it a year ago when you made the proposition, but you know it now.

You really want to see Lee Donghyuck walking through those doors.

But as the time slowly dwindles away, you can’t be sure that it isn’t just your own wishful thinking.

Donghyuck kicks at the pavement, running a hand through his hair. The day is almost over, and still, no luck. He has been to eighteen different cafés already, and there’s just no sign of you.

If only he didn’t have to work the morning shift, then he’d have more time to actually look in more cafés.

He stops a short distance in front of the nineteenth café. He isn’t usually one to believe in anything like fate, but he’s desperate at this point. He looks to the sky, clasping his hands together, “Please. Make 19 our special number. Please let y/n be in this café.”

Taking in a deep breath, Donghyuck walks forward, towards the café.

Eunha checks the time, then looks over at you. You're sitting there, dazed, expression blank. She purses her lips in sympathy, calling out, “Do you want me to lock the doors or wait another f-”

Eunha is cut off when the bell chimes. You immediately turn towards the entrance of the café.

It's Donghyuck.

Oh gosh, it's actually Donghyuck.

Donghyuck makes eye contact with you. A sense of accomplishment and warmth overwhelms him. You feel your nose stinging, and your heart swelling.

“Sorry, we’re cl-”

You don’t know what comes over you, but you run forward. You throw yourself into Donghyuck’s arms, hugging him tight.

“Okay then, I’ll be over there,” Eunha says, excusing herself.

You pull away.

“You found me,” you sniff, grinning wide.

“I promised I would,” Donghyuck replies, reflecting your expression.

“I guess we are really meant for something more,” you mumble, taking in the moment.

“So,” Donghyuck says, holding out his phone. “Can I finally have your number?”

#nct scenarios #haechan scenarios #haechan fluff #haechan #nct fluff #nct imagines #haechan imagines #nct #nct dream #nct 127 #nct haechan #fic #fic: september 19

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inlovewithhisblueeyes · 3 years

Text

Never Bet Your Clothes in a Game of Sevivon

Pairing: College AU Mike x Jewish Reader

Prompt: Dreidel/Sevivon from the 8 Days of Henry-kkah

Word Count: ~1.6K

Warnings: Betting, Striping Off Clothes, Mentions of Nudity

A/N: Yes I know Hanukkah is over but I wanted to finish the prompt list I made. This is my first time writing for Mike. I never had much interest in him until I started talking to @october505 so this one is for you love!

The sun had already been chased from the sky by the time you had made your way back to the dorms. Snowy footprints littered the campus grounds from when students had raced through the cold to their classes. You preferred the silence that came with this frozen tundra. It gave you the much needed time to reflect over the day's events as the icy breeze nipped at your exposed skin. It was hard to believe that the semester was almost over. Next week you would be busy taking your finals before flying back home for the winter break.

As you continue to trudge to the dorms, you watched as the next flurry of snowflakes began to fall. Some fell on your coat while others joined their brothers and sisters underneath your boots. The following current of air even made the snowflakes dance across the frosty ground before they were allowed to settle. When the wind started to bite at your heels, you were spurred on to pick up your pace. Finally, the distant lights of the dormitories came into your view. You could almost feel the warmth of their glow on your cold cheeks.

You broke off into a light jog, eager to have your warm bed chase away the chill that had settled in your bones. You hurried up the shoveled path and slipped your hand out from the warmth of your coat pocket. Your fingers gripped tightly around the front door key as you unlocked the door and slid into the sauna-like hallway. You walked over to the front staircase and quickly hopped up the steps two at a time. It was finally the weekend for you and you wanted nothing more than to take a load off. You deserved a night off before the stressful week that was ahead.

Reaching the third floor where your room was located, you carefully pulled the heavy door open before stepping out of the stairwell. You swiftly moved down the hallway, tossing your keys back and forth between your hands. It was abnormally quiet tonight in the halls; perhaps your peers had already headed out to the bar early. You shook your head as you made a left at the end of the hall. How ironic it was that the one night you wanted to party, everyone had disappeared.

Well not everyone it seemed as you noticed a figure waiting towards the middle of the hall. You continued your descent down the hall and as you got closer, you noticed it was none other than Mike. You were a bit confused as to why he waiting by your door until you glanced at his feet. Next to him was a package wrapped in brown paper. You quickly hurried to relieve him of standing guard by your door.

“Hey,” You said cheerfully.

“Hey yourself,” Mike teased with a waggle of his eyebrows.

“Dork,” you scoffed and rolled your eyes at him.

“Hey! I prefer the term knight in shining armor but I suppose in this case you’ll have to settle for knight in comfy joggers.”

“To which I must remind you that you didn’t need to be. No one is going to be eager to steal my mail when everyone is out partying,” You retorted as you bent down to grab the box. You carefully balanced it on one hip as you unlocked your door with the other hand.

Mike leaned up against your doorframe as you puttered around the room. “Maybe I was hoping it was a spliff stash that you’d be willing to share with me so I can survive final exams.”

“I think it’s just a care package from my bubbe,” You sighed setting your package down on the bed.

“Bubbe? Is that some new slang for some boyfriend back home that I don’t know about?” The curly haired boy questioned.

“It’s Yiddish for grandma, you perv.”

“You truly wound me,” Mike exhaled dramatically.

You sat down at your desk and yanked your boots off your feet. You wiggle your sock-covered toes as the warmth of the building sinks in. You shuck off your coat and pad over to your cozy bed. You flop down next to the awaiting package.

“Good sir, I believe you have done your duty with the utmost care. I bid you adieu,” You declared.

“Wait a second. Can’t I see the bounty I was protecting?”

“It’s not a spliff stash but sure knock yourself out,” You chuckled as you scoot over to allow Mike to sit beside on the bed too.

The curly haired boy crossed the room and joined you on the bed. You got up to grab a pair of scissors from your desk before returning to your previous seat. Carefully you cut away the brown paper encompassing it before you cut away the tape sealing the box shut. You peel back the sides of the box to reveal the goodies your grandma sent. You received a container of Hanukkah cookies which were surprisingly still whole, a pair of socks with latkes on them, gelt, two dreidels, a sweater that said Come on Baby Light My Menorah, and a card from your bubbe and zaydee. You could feel the heat of embarrassment spread itself across your cheeks.

“What’s all this darling?” Mike asked.

“Just some Hanukkah stuff. I guess my bubbe felt the need to bring the family dinner to me,” You replied a bit bashfully,” The little tops are called dreidels or sevivon. You bet these gold coins or whatever else you want each round. It’s really a kids game, but it doesn’t stop the adults from joining in.”

“You bet whatever you said,” Mike joshed with a devilish smirk on his face.

“I think my zaydee used to play for actual money when he was growing up. Zaydee means grandpa,” You quickly added at the end.

“We could make it like strip monopoly. Instead of the chocolate you can bet your clothes,” the boy suggested.

“You really want to get me naked don’t you?”

“And you don’t want to see all this?” Mike teased, gesturing to himself,” Or maybe you’re just chicken?”

You could feel your face heat up again. “I’m not chicken. Just cautious,” You paused while you thought things over,” We can play strip dreidel but if I win all your clothes, you have to let me borrow your printer for the entirety of next semester.”

“Then if I win, I want to take you out on a date. A real one with dinner and everything.”

“Deal!” You chirped, eager to not let Mike take back what he offered.

You grabbed the dreidels and a pillow before making yourself comfy on the floor. He followed suit after you leaning up slightly against your desk chair.

“So the rules of the game are rather simple. At the beginning of each round, we’ll put a piece of gelt into the pot. Anytime the pot is empty or there’s only one piece, we have to add another. Each side of the dreidel has a different outcome. This is נ (nun). If you get this, you don’t get any of the pot or add any in. Next is ג (Gimmel). If you land on it, you take the whole pot. Followed by ה (hey) which means you get half of the pot. If there’s an odd number of pieces, you leave the odd piece in the pot. Finally, this is ש (shin) it means you have to add another piece to the pot,“ You explained before handing him a dreidel.

“Since we’ll be betting our clothes, once an item comes off it stays off,” Mike offered.

“That’s fair,” You admitted.

“Good. It’s settled then. After you my lady,” he uttered before taking off his shirt.

You gulped before shucking yours off to join his in the pile. You grabbed the other dreidel and gave it a spin. It landed on נ and you were thankful for that. The rest of the game passed in relative silence with the both of you eager to win. By the time you were down to your underwear, the game was tied. Each of you had an equal amount of clothing. You grabbed the dreidel to give it another spin and it soon fell on ש. You felt the blood rush from your face as you had to decide between loosing your bra or your panties.

As if Mike could sense your apprehension, he swiftly added,” We can stop if you want to. Maybe call it a tie, cuddle up under some blankets, and eat some of those cookies your grandma sent.”

Your wide eyes stared up at him, desperately trying to find your words. Sighing you nodded before standing up and offering him a hand. The boy gently pulled himself to his feet and handed you his shirt.

“Thanks Mike,” You murmured as you slipped it on.

You moved over to the bed and carefully removed everything but the box of cookies. You peeled back your blankets before sliding into your warm bed. Mike waited until you were settled before he came to lay beside you. He moved his arm so you could cuddle up next to him. You rested you head right above his heart and listened to the steady lub-dub it made. The two of you lay in comfortable silence, basking in each other’s warmth.

“I was serious about that date though. I want to take you out before the next semester,” Mike murmured into your hair.

“I’ll hold you to it.”

#henry cavill #mike #mike hellraiser #hellraiser hellworld #8 Days of Henrykkah #8DaysofHenrykkah #happy hanukkah #Hanukkah writing challenge #hanukkah #henry cavill fanfiction #mike x you #mike x reader #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fandom #the cavillry #jewish reader #jewish writers

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buck-nialled · 4 years

Note

Raul Mendes- Setting: recovering from illness/ bookshop au+ Trope: Mutual Pining + Sentence: “I’m gonna lay down and die for like a half hour okay?

NOTE: Thanks for the submission anon! I’m not sure if reading a 5k word angst and possibly crying was on your agenda for today but I would prepare yourself just in case. Anybody who is interested can click HERE to see all prompts and send your own combo to my inbox!

Also, there will most likely be a part 2 to this story but some extra motivation never hurt. Let me know what you think of it by leaving me a message or reply :)

SETTING: recovering from an illness

AU: bookshop

TROPE: mutual pining

SENTENCE: “I’m gonna lay down and die for half an hour, okay?”

Necessary - R. Mendes Imagine

The air in the office was thick in its pressure and so was Raul’s hold on his wife’s left hand. His gaze was trying to steady on the lustrous ring encircling her fourth finger, but he could not stop the wandering of his pupils to the navy carpet below them. How many tears have been shed in this room, he speculates? As if he could see recognizable marks on the floor he begins counting up in his head, keeping his eyes transfixed on one spot. When he reached his age, twenty-three, the sound of the heavy mahogany door opening halted his counting. His pupils targeted the manilla folder secure in the doctor’s hand.

“Thank you both for your patience, we just got the final results back from your physical exams.” The white-coated man spares what could hardly be considered a smile while pulling his chair out to take a seat before the couple. Raul’s eyes flickered over to the woman sat to his right, whose chest was increasing in its rise and falls the longer the doctor took to share the reports. “So, I am here to report that we did find a reason for your pregnancy problem. But it—”

“I knew it!” The despairing wail draws both men away from the conversation and to Raul’s wife. With her other hand coming to sustain her lurched head, she continues moaning hopelessly. “I’m infertile, aren’t I? My great aunt suffered it and now it’s passed down the bloodline to me.” Raul’s brows furrowed, unbeknownst to any of the information his spouse began spewing. She continued to elicit helpless whimpers as Raul scooted his seat closer and wound his arms around her for a supportive embrace. Insecurity took over the complete function of her arm’s as she curled into herself, allowing her forearms to press defiantly against her husband’s chest.

“Actually, Mrs. Mendes…your test results say that you are in perfect condition.” Immediately the head on Raul’s shoulder lifted itself to reveal trembling lips and glossy eyes.

“W-what?” The woman croaks in disbelief, eyes glancing back and forth between the consultant and her partner. Raul tried hard to spare a smile when he pushed the loose tendrils of her hair back with his hand. But knowing his wife was in good condition given all the warning that he was not in the same boat.

“Your charts are above average in health, longevity, and fertility.” Raul’s hand drops from his wife’s scalp in exchange for his own. He bows his head and combs through the dark locks while his wife sat frozen in her chair beside him.

“So…” She began.

“So, it’s me.” Raul tossed his head back, sinking into the uncomfortably stuffed backing of the seat. “I’ve got the broken parts. Is that it?” His voice morphs into something sharp at the end, earning his wife’s hand to run soothingly up and down his bicep. The doctor heaves a breath and flips through the stack of sheets at his disposal.

“Mr. Mendes your test results for the physical we ran reports your sperm to highly infertile.”

“B-but that’s impossible!” His wife cuts in. “Doctor, don’t get me wrong I appreciate your work. But as his wife, I can testify that it’s fine. It looks and comes out the same as anybody else’s.” His spouse’s arguing leaves Raul red-cheeked and tensed in his chair. He grinds his teeth together and clenches his eyes shut as the heavy feeling he had been suffering in his genitals for the last month decided to make a return.

“Well many infertile men can have sperm that appears healthy or ejaculate a normal amount. But sometimes it goes deeper, which is why we run these tests. There is another effect of your infertility, Mr. Mendes. Do you recall the PET scan you did yesterday?” The sinking feeling is transported to Raul’s stomach and his downstairs area feels more bloated than ever. The doctor’s words and his wife’s blubbering entered his ears seconds later and sounded miles further than he recalls them being. They echoed through his head while the swollen ache rattled through his scrotum and when he finally unpeeled his eyelids to see the tower of pamphlets and resources the doctor suggested he look into, his eyelids drooped in shame. He craned his neck over to study his wife, sobbing woefully into the tissue and trying to convince the room (but mainly herself) that this was all a mistake.

_______________________________________________

The bell above Raul’s head jingled as he entered the bookstore just a ten-minute walk from the mechanic shop he owned. Returning from the doctor’s appointment and dropping his silent, ruminating spouse back at her home helped Raul to make the decision that nobody else in his life should be downtrodden. Therefore, he tells the employees of the shop that his appointment went fine, replaced the thought of the tumors spreading from his abdomen with oil changes and appointment times. But he figured, if he was desperate to keep the façade of his tip-top shape health, he needed to be determined to play the part and cover his bases.

“Welcome to Pickering Press Books. How are you doing today?” Raul glances over to the merry young woman, perched behind the desk. It was lighter than the mahogany wood his fingernails were digging into an hour prior, a reminder for him to burn all of his dark wood furniture when he arrived back to his house. The associate’s smile was sincere and held a glint Raul cannot remember being witness to since months after tying the knot with his partner. A breath of fresh air could not even compare to the woman’s locks, bouncing with each step she took to exit that side of the desk with a stack of books balanced flawlessly in her hands.

“I’m alright...” Raul continues his slow strides into the vicinity, trying to keep a subtle distance away from the woman as he observed her, restocking books. As if feeling his eyes trained on her crouching position, she heaves herself up from one of the lower shelves and pivots on her feat, nearly running into the man.

Raul brings the sleeve of his leather jacket to cover his mouth as he clears his throat. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“That’s okay.” Her berry lips quirked at the corners, curious eyes staying trained on his. “I don’t recognize you. Is it your first time here?” Raul nods, keeping his lips sealed. The man did not take pleasure in too much chatter, but this woman’s voice was so soothing, Raul would not hesitate to take the sound down his throat like a warm cup of tea. He wanted the sweet lull of her syllables to coat his insides and drown his every woe in the summer breeze of her whisper.

“Was there anything, in particular, I could help you find?” She raised her hands now free of books to gesture around the vicinity and all of its stocked shelves. Each label and sign were overwhelming to Raul, as he was never a person who enjoyed reading.

“Do you have a medical section?”

_______________________________________________

Thirty minutes later and Raul was on the floor. The medical section was tucked in one of the back corners and surprisingly vast in its options. Stacks upon stacks of books on testicular cancer were scattered around Raul’s pounding head. He grabbed and skimmed through so many that the tiny summaries of information were becoming jumbled in his mind. One of his arms, which was shielding his eyes jolted down at the sound of a gasp and a light kick to one of his shoes. More and more patrons exited the library with the jingling bell to bid them goodnight. The woman from earlier rounded the corner from where Raul’s feet were poking out and laid a relieved hand on her chest, seeing his eyes open and alert.

“Couldn’t find what you were looking for?” She crossed both her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrows at him in a teasing manner.

“Oh no, I did.” He remarked and rolled his eyes to survey all of the piles of literature that surrounded him. “There’s just way too many. I don’t know which to pick. So, if it’s alright with you, I’m gonna lay down and die for like half an hour, okay?” With that, he returned to his original position, cloaking his eyes from the ceiling lights and releasing a heavy breath. Small patters that could only be the woman’s footsteps enter his ears. They range in volume and he catches a whiff of perfume when she is that close to picking up one of the many options Raul is undecided on.

As she crouches down to retrieve a book near his hip, she inspects his hand. Small inked masterpieces were just exiting the sleeve of his jacket, and her eyes made a trail out of his veins and prominent knuckles. Her gaze stopped and gauged the silver band on his fourth finger, a clear sign from the universe to quit ogling this chiseled masterpiece of a stranger and continue her duties. She resumed, silently filling the blank slots on the shelves with their respective book and finally came across one Raul never picked up. She craned her head to eye the clock, knowing half an hour was nearly up. But she waited the last two minutes and thirty-seven seconds for him anyway, allowing the silence to be the perfect background noise as she skimmed the black and yellow book with a confident feeling swarming her chest.

“Alright mister,” she peers at the clock again, then turns back to him, “your thirty minutes of dying are up.” He stays still, though, showing no signs of movement or waking If he did happen to fall asleep.

“Hello? Sir?” The young woman’s heart rate began picking up when no sound came from him. She crouches down immediately and shook his shoulder, but to no avail.

“Oh no, no no no…” she repeats, grabbing his wrist to feel for a pulse. Slowly she bends her form down further to rest her cheek on his chest. Her shaking fingers worked quick kneads into his wrist, desperate to find any pulsating below the skin. She inhales the scent of his refreshing cologne as panic began to consume her.

“Boo!” Raul’s deep voice bellows as he sprung up from his splayed position. A petrified squeal leaves the woman as she sits up, chest heaving.

“Did I get you?” Raul grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. All the associate can manage is scoff and the shake of her head. As much as she hated the ache in her jaw from trying to hide the smile, she was determined to show the man she was aggravated.

“You know I thought it’d be insulting to recommend this book, but it suits you.” She grabs the black and yellow book she set down nearby the two and shoots her harm out toward him, voice still shaky from the scare. Hesitantly, Raul grabs it and reads the cover: Testicular Cancer for Dummies.

“I’m sorry,” He said. The girl picks herself up from the floor and Raul is quick to do the same. She reproaches the desk, trying to compose herself as the sound of heavy boots follows her the entire way. “I just…I haven’t got to have fun in a while. Didn’t think I would scare you too bad. Honestly, I thought you were gonna lock up and forget about me.” He chuckles, setting down the book on the wooden slab. The lady took it, ran the barcode over the reader, and places it back down. As she began typing on the computer’s keyboard, she replied.

“Honestly, I wanted to.” One of her hands gripped the mouse and clicked spots on the monitor Raul could not see. “You seemed peaceful…like you haven’t gotten good sleep in a while.” She shares, now unabashed in her observations after nearly calling 9-1-1 for the man, who did not appear to look or act much older than she did. “But if I did, my boss would probably murder me.” She nervously chuckled and Raul thought her smile fell all too soon when she continued. “I also wouldn’t want your wife wondering where you were all night.”

Raul blinked, taking a moment to process her words. When his lips separated to give an explanation—what explanation? He has a wife and a ring to prove it. There was nothing else to be said. She says a string of numbers Raul did not remember, cueing the man to fish around in his pocket for the card.

“Here you go.” He said, reaching over the counter with the small piece of plastic. She took it with a grateful smile and studied it for a moment, then chuckled to yourself.

“What?” Raul muttered. She flipped it around to reveal a less than attractive photo of the man, dating years back. He was slightly envious of the woman’s youthful glow in comparison to his sunken one. Even more humiliating was the fact they couldn’t be more than two years apart in age. Guess this is what marrying young does to you, Raul thinks to himself.

“Unfortunately, you can’t pay with your ID.” More giggles surround the two of them while Raul just shook his head and took the card back. He apologized and handed her his debit card the second time, realizing the thirty-minute nap did little to help his exhaustion. When she asked, he politely declined the receipt and shook his hand in protest.

“Alrighty, you are free to go, Mr. Mendes.” The doctor’s voice from hours earlier comes to mind. He pictured the white-coated figure using the same title, his wife’s bemoaning, and the swollen feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Just…Raul is fine.” He breathed out, taking the book from her outstretched hand.

“Okay. Then happy birthday, Raul.” He almost asks, but then remembered the mishap with his ID. He sent a fond nod in her direction.

“You might see me back here soon, dying on the floor again.” He winks. An uninvited scarlet painted the woman’s cheeks.

“I’ll be looking forward to it.”

_______________________________________________

Weeks have passed since the recent diagnosis of Raul’s groin pain. The man was surprised to find how easily he accepted the news and instructions to research. Nights out of the auto shop were spent on his computer, scouring articles on nearby treatment centers. He had memorized the steps of exiling the tumors and could explain the process verbatim to what the medical association had published online. The prices seemed to be the only—hefty—roadblock in his path. Well, and his wife still amidst her processing.

Raul never would think the person he shares a bed with at night would also come to share the littlest conversation. Since their physical, the only words the married couple seem to exchange is pillow talk and the occasional “good morning”. This is not to say he has lost all effort in seeking her opinion on the topic because he has tried countless times to do so. However, he remains fruitless in each attempt to get a word out of her. He recalls what the doctor said before the two left the appointment that day, and how he whispered into Raul’s ear about giving her time. “Seeing the one you love most in pain, is more painful than going through it yourself.”

Raul kept twiddling his thumbs, awaiting an opinion rather than a full plate of dinner in the microwave when he entered his front door late at night. The chicken she cooked tasted blander, and the tomato sauce on her pasta wasn’t quite right when it danced across the spores of his tongue. Within less than a month his agenda has been off-kilter and inconsistent in every way possible. Except for one.

He remained going back to the bookstore as promised. To his fortune, he even discovered the associate’s name to be Y/N. In his opinion, it sounded much better on his tongue than the raucous holler he spooked her with one night. He specifically apologized for that incident again the second time he visited her on his lunch break. The third time he stopped by, he slept in the same corner he scared her in and dreamt peaceful things. Raul was convinced it was the newfound stress and not the bed he crawled into and woke up with empty arms in every morning that made the carpet feel that much more heavenly of a resting place.

This particular afternoon, he was curious at the new deli which opened beside the bookstore. Raul did not take long to commit to the trip over when he discovered the chicken salad sandwich was on their menu. As he waltzed over though, his feet carried him over to the vicinity residing left of the restaurant instead. He knew it was not the time for meandering in Pickering Press again but when he is greeted by Y/N’s beacon of a smile every one of his complaints was whisked away by Canada’s breezes and out of the door.

“What can I do for you today? Another book on mechanics?”

That was the excuse Raul always used on his prior visits to the shop. But it isn’t like he needs justification for entering a public area he is welcome to roam. The man even asked himself after his last visit, when the jingle of the bell alerted his exit and the new weight of a book about repairing cars in his hand: why is an excuse to do anything else but say “hello” necessary? There was nothing wrong about it. It was time to be straight-forward Raul decided right then.

“Just wanted to say hello. I was going to get lunch at the place next door, and figured I’d stop by.” He leans down, setting his arms against the wooden counter. Y/N smiled at the considerate man before her and laid a hand against her heart. “That’s…very sweet of you, Raul, thank you.” Though the most intimate she had been with the man is check for his pulse when he played possum on the bookstore’s carpet, she always felt like she was pushing the boundaries of their “friendship”. She doesn’t want to label it anything yet, really, but that is just how it appeared in her eyes. How Raul pictured the two of them is still a riddle impossible for her to solve. Judging by the silver band still present on his fourth finger, even having a friendship of sorts would be pushing it.

“Y/N! Y/N!” The rumbling of brisk steps against the floor made the two look away from one another with red cheeks, and to the small boy instead. Raul tilted his head slightly, finding resemblance of Y/N and the young child. The shape of their eyes is uncanny and the boy’s hair is only a few shades darker than the woman’s. “Have we gotten anything yet?” He drums his flat palms furiously against the wood and uses the desk as leverage to bounce himself up and down. It only leaves Y/N in giggles and quietly scolds for him to keep his voice low.

“We’ve made some progress.” The girl shrugs, trying a merry tone and gesturing to a small jar present beside the register with her hand. It was without a lid and had a sticky note with big bold letters written on it: Jace’s Toronto Fund.

From Raul’s vantage, he caught glimpse of the scant change and lack of any colorful bills to fill the cup. And from the small boy’s pouted lips, it was clear he was seeing the same. His small hand reached for the jar and took it in his hold to inspect with a pessimistic grumble of “kissing the trip goodbye”. Y/N spared him a sympathetic stare, and Raul glanced at Y/N with the same expression.

“The payment isn’t due for another two months.” She reaches over the desk to lay a hand on the young boy’s shoulder. “We’ll get there.” Her comforting words only did so much to fix the boy’s frown. The child notices Raul at that moment and abruptly turns to face him.

“Hey mister, do you have money?”

“JACE!” Y/N hisses, lightly hitting his shoulder and shaking her head in disdain at him. Raul chuckles understandingly and is reaching for his back pocket while Y/N is encouraging the boy to apologize.

“No, don’t worry about it. I get it.” Raul is unfolding the leather wallet before Y/N has a chance to interrupt him. As he retrieves a crisp twenty-dollar bill and hands it to who he assumes is Jace, he delivers a shrug in Y/N’s direction. “I’ve got enough books to finish reading anyways.”

“Thank you! Have you ever been to Toronto?” Jace looks up into Raul’s eyes, a wide grin and even wider eyes displaying his gratitude for the donation. Raul shakes his head.

“No, actually.” He crouched down. “I had two brothers in the same grade as when my school hosted the same trip, but it was a lot so we never ended up going.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Ah, don’t be.” Raul waves his hand. “At least I’m helping somebody go. Hey, make sure to bring me back a postcard.”

“I will. I promise!” He swears with a violent nod of his head. He sticks his first donated bill in the jar and quickly waves to Y/N, telling her he would “see her later”.

“Thank you. That really wasn’t necessary.”

“Like I said, it’s nice to help out. Every kid deserves to go on a trip like that.” He stuffs his wallet back into his pocket with a fond smile. “How do you know him?”

“He’s my little brother. But like I said,” she digs her hand into the jar, removes the bill, and slides it back to Raul across the desk, “It isn’t necessary. Take it. I can replace it later.”

Raul hums, eyeing the green slip. It was tempting, mostly because money was the one department he’d seemed to be lacking in recently. But if there was a chance these future appointments or surgeries did not reach their end goal, he found it better to know that Jace’s hopes of walking the Toronto streets would.

“No,” Raul says simply and stuffs the bill back into its rightful place. This elicits a scoff from Y/N who is now bending down to dig through her bag beneath the desk.

“Fine.” She pops back up, a wallet now in her clutch. “Then you can take this and go buy yourself that lunch.” She slides her own bill over, identical to the one Raul refused to take back.

“Y/N…” He begins shaking his head.

“Raul, take it or your dying privileges will no longer apply here.” This was the heaviest bargaining she had ever done with a customer, and it was not even over a potential book purchase. Raul blew out a breath, honey eyes flickering up to hers.

“Wow, really playing that card, huh?” She keeps her expression stiff and unchanging, eventually coming out victorious when Raul takes the bill with a breathy “fine.”

“I gotta go now and get back to the shop. But I’ll be back soon.” He saluted Y/N with a kind smile.

“For me to help you find another book on cars?” She crosses both of her arms over her chest and lifts two curious brows.

“Well, mainly for Jace’s postcard. But sure, that’ll work too.” He wasn’t sure if it was the comment or the wink he gifted her afterward that made her lips part in such astonishment. He hoped it was a healthy mix of both because it had been far too long since Raul had a relationship this youthful. The carefree aspect almost felt foreign at first, but now he found himself craving for it. When he exited the shop, Y/N decided to finally restock the line of books on the cart which had been staring her down since the beginning of her shift. It was only when she returned to her desk that the white paper bag with the deli’s name and logo caught her attention. Skeptically her eyes glazed across the bag as her hand reached up to unfold the top.

The chocolate chip cookie staring up at her when she peeked inside the bag made her scoff and lean back into her chest. The sender made himself all too obvious at that point, but when she reached to pick up the wrapped treat, her eyes spotted the napkin where he ensured to make himself known in blue-inked scribbles.

Trust me, it’s necessary

- Raul

(p.s. I hope this doesn’t revoke my privileges)

_______________________________________________

After scarfing down his chicken salad sandwich in his hasty walk, he crumpled the wrapper and tossed it to the trash can beside the entrance to the shop. He tries calling out for one of the general managers, Connor when a familiar string of giggles catches his attention. Hesitantly, he strolls to Connor’s small office space, where he was sat in his spinning chair. Raul was surprised to find his wife sat directly across from him, a smile that had been absent around Raul for the last three weeks now adorning her face. When he caught their attention, it fell immediately.

“Hey, man.” Connor stood, patting Raul’s back.

“Hey…” he says slowly, eyes drifting from the employee to the woman still seated.

“What’re you doing—”

“She told me what’s going on. Raul, I’m so sorry.” Connor looks over at Raul sorrowfully, and back to Raul’s spouse. She was seated with one leg crossed over the other and didn’t dare to look up at either of the men.

“T-told you?” Raul blinks in befuddlement. “About…”

“The cancer,” Connor whispers, as though It is a secret Raul was unaware of until now. “It took my uncle a few years back…I know how hard this must be.” Connor continued his explanation, but Raul’s eyes remain transfixed on his partner's scalp while she gazes at the floor.

“I came to bring you lunch.” She quips, voice low. “But you were out, and-and I thought he knew…” she speaks slowly, eyes pooling with guilt like a dog preparing for a wiggling finger in his face and harsh reprimands. Raul only nods, slowly licking his lips. “I should be going back to work now…” she decides, lifting her frame off of the chair. “See you later.” Is all she musters, sparing a glance to Connor before breezing past her husband and out of the front door entirely.

“Well I’ve got an appointment in an oil change for five minutes, so I’m going to get that set up.” Raul’s brows furrow at Connor’s escape from the area and to the front desk. Raul shakes his head back and forth before wandering over to his own office and shutting the door behind him. He presses his forehead to the cold surface and sighs blissfully as it attacks the forming migraine he was suffering. When he finally turns to face his desk, the aches in his temples increase ten-fold by the sight of the lunch bag his wife always carries his food in lacking from the room entirely.

_______________________________________________

He slid out of his black shoes upon entry and was careful to shut the door quietly behind him. After he locked it, the corner of his eyes caught sight of the small glow of the kitchen light. He shuffled into the room, spotting his wife leaning on the island with a glass of red wine, nearly empty beside her. Without glancing up, she began chuckling bitterly.

“Figured since there’s no reason to not drink anymore, might as well.” Her voice sounded stretched, like a taut rubber band prepared to snap.

“How long have you been showing symptoms?” She mumbles, fingers drumming against the countertop. The tension from the doctor’s office seemed to follow them home and multiply. At this point, the man felt the suffocation of his wife’s torment creeping up his throat.

“How long, Raul?” The question comes out as a growl this time.

“I…I didn’t…I thought it was nothing.”

“So you just decided to do nothing about it? You just decided not to tell me?” The steep incline in her voice was something Raul was unprepared for. “We’re supposed to be a team, Raul! I could have helped you!” The drastic swing in her temper compared to this afternoon stunned him.

“I didn’t know I needed helping until a few weeks ago.” His voice rose alongside hers, teetering on the fence of talking brashly or screaming quietly. He huffed and set the book on the table. “And look what I’m doing! I’ve accepted my mistakes. I went and started doing my research.”

“Which you should’ve been doing.” She bites, moving her grip to the neck of the wine bottle.

“I didn’t think it was a big deal! I thought it was normal!” He defends, tossing his arms in the air. “And-and what have you been doing, huh? All you’ve done is go off and tell people without even asking what I think.”

“I only told Connor because…because it’s hard to keep this in the dark Raul! I mean I feel like somebody needs to know. He’s one of your closest friends.”

“He’s hardly a close friend to me. What gave you that idea? And did you ever think you’d want to talk to me about my cancer first before going behind my back and stewing it over with Connor? Connor?” The fact that he was the person she approached about the topic is still appalling him. “And every time I asked what you think we should do you say you’re thinking. Thinking—thinking about what—what’s taking so long to think about? I’ve done my thinking already and frankly I think it should be me having a drink right now.

“I’ve been thinking what the next step to take is Raul!” Her sharp eyes lined with his, brimmed with tears and a wobbling frown. He knows all too well she didn’t mean steps to solving his adversity.

“The next step? We can still have kids—”

“Not like we wanted to.”

“Hold on, hold on.” He demands, waving his hands. “Do you remember what mattered before kids became an issue? What happened to the vows where we said we loved each other a million different ways? What happened to the promise to be with each other forever. What-what happened to “in sickness and in health”, huh? Where is that?” His rushed interrogation has his spouse falling silent. Her knuckles remained white, unrelenting on the wine glass and that is when Raul notices the absence of the ring on her finger. Besides the book, the sheet of papers asking for his signature introduce themselves to his eyes.

“I think we should get a divorce.”

#shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes au #mendes triplets #mendes triplets au #raul mendes imagine #raul mendes fanfiction #raul mendes angst #raul mendes fluff #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes oneshot

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hanniiesuckle17 · 4 years

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A/n: as a technically plus size girl myself i really liked writing this! feel free to request again after I finish the rest of the ones I have now! (sry this is not thoroughly edited)

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: cussing, mentions of hate

Requested by: anonymous

Tag List: @distrikt9 @mini-meanhoe @poeticallyspaghetti @hanstagrams @yangomangos @hoes4hoseok @desertfordessert

Summary: Being on the larger side had never stopped you from anything before. You were confident in your curves and loved how you looked. It was one of the reasons that Han Jisung fell head over heels in love with you. Who would have thought a few silly little pictures would turn your world upside down.

Genre: fluff, little angst, romance

✯

Meeting Jisung was a complete accident. A complete accident that changed my life forever. I was a lost foreign exchange student desperate to find her way back to her dorm in the hot summer streets of Seoul. By pure chance, I had bumped into him on the street. I had no idea who he was at the time and he seemed to find that fascinating.

We ended up walking together until the sun set and the store signs lit up casting neon glows on our faces. Soon we both got lost wandering through the streets talking about everything and nothing in my broken korean and his adorable english.

Jisung bought me dinner and then we finally found my dorms. He left me with the promise to take me out and get lost again. And that was the start of our relationship. About our fifth date, Jisung told me about his job and who he was. He was utterly shocked that I didn’t freak out about his celebrity status. He always said that what I told him after was when he began falling in love with me.

“Whether you sing in front of thousands of people, pick up garbage on the side of the road, or teach pre-schoolers not to pick their noses, I would rather be with you than any other place or with any other person on the planet.”

Now a year and a half later, we were dating and living together in an apartment near the company. Jisung was quite upset that he had to keep our relationship a secret. The company after many attempts at breaking us up gave in and let him continue our relationship despite his dating ban, but only if he kept quiet about it and nothing got leaked to the press.

This meant we rarely got to go out unless both of us wore masks and hats and for five months out of the year, I was sitting at home waiting for Jisung to come back from tour trying to pretend like I didn’t have a boyfriend to begin with. But, it was all worth it. Jisung was worth it.

“Yes, dad. I promise I’m eating well.” I said looking at my father through a computer screen. My ears picked up on Jisung moving behind me to open the fridge and I knew what was about to happen next.

“Jisung!” My father called. Hearing his name he turned and leaned over me to look at my father. “Jisung, how are you?” My dad smiled and turned to focus on my boyfriend.

Jisung laughed seeing me drop my head in my hands. He leaned against the counter, a bright smile on his face. “I’m fine, Mr. L/n.”

“How many times have I told you? Just D/n is fine. Now, is she eating well? I know she has exams. You have to make sure my daughter is eating!” Jisung’s arm wrapped around my stomach, pulling me to his side.

“Of course! We are going out to eat soon actually.” He said cheerfully, pushing the hair away from my face.

I jumped at the opportunity Jisung secretly handed me. “Yes, Dad! So, we have to go! I love you, talk to you later, bye!” Jisung waved before I slammed my laptop closed, effectively hanging up on my father. “Can we really go out to eat?” I asked, wrapping my arms around his waist. He smiled taking my face in his hands, squishing my cheeks.

“Of course. I’m starving.” Placing a kiss on my forehead he exited the kitchen. While he was doing whatever he was doing, I ran to our bedroom and changed out of the pajamas I had worn all day.

Grabbing some shorts and one of Jisung’s shirts I started tying my shoes. How any of his clothes fit me at all was a mystery to me. Jisung was a twig compared to me. Granted he was a very muscular twig. But a twig none the less.

Jisung smiled seeing me in the baggy white fabric that covered my shorts entirely. He leaned against the doorway, dark hair falling in front of his doe eyes. He didn’t bother changing out of his gray sweatpants and tank top. “I never get tired of seeing you in my clothes.”

“I never get tired of wearing them.” He smirked, watching me get up from the bed and walk over to him. I let my hands travel up his chest as he looked down at me. “Are we taking the car or the subway?” I whispered, leaning up and kissing his lips. A cheeky smile slip onto his face as his hands grabbed onto my ass.

“I heard it’ll rain soon. Subway?” I nodded and kissed him again, fingers threading through his hair. “Ready to go, baby?” With another nod, we left our apartment, masks on and hats covering our faces. Instinctively, I pulled the white cap on Jisung’s head lower to cover his handsome features. He did the same with the black bucket hat (which was probably his) that I wore.

Just as Jisung said, a light sprinkled down on us as we walked to the nearest subway station. Unfortunately, the train was crowded, leaving no seats for me and Jisung. We got a few weird looks, most likely because of the excessive face covering.

We shared low whispers about where to eat and bickered about what stop to get off at. I turned out to right and dragged him off with train, just before the doors closed. Laughing, we ran through the rain to get to our favorite sushi place.

The woman who owned the restaurant greeted us happily when we entered, ushering us to a secluded back table. Jisung didn’t even look at the menu before ordering enough food to fill every inch of the table.

“How is the new album coming?” I said picking up a piece of fish. He nodded cheeks half full of food. I smiled seeing his little habit resurface itself.

“Good. I sent a song off to Chan this afternoon. He and I will work on composition tomorrow.” His long fingers maneuvered the chopsticks to place another roll onto my plate. I tried to put it back but he shook his head, adding another one as well. “How are your classes?”

“Stressful, but manageable. You know the girl next to me in my Maths class is a STAY. She has Seungmin’s photocard in her phone case.” Jisung smiled eating another piece of sushi. “Her phone rang in class the other day. Guess what her ringtone was?”

He hummed and looked up at me expectantly. “What?” He said covering his mouth, silver rings glinting in the low warm light.

“Close.” Jisung’s eyes lit up as he started laughing.

“I almost got in so much trouble when I released that song.” He said dipping a roll in soy sauce. “STAY almost figured out about us.”

“Well, you did all but put my name in the song,” I said with a laugh. Somehow we had managed to eat all the food on the table. “Did you really feel that way when we met?” I asked him, my elbow resting on the table.

A waitress came and cleared our table. Jisung stared at me, a soft look in his eyes. “Of course. You were the most gorgeous girl I had ever laid eyes on.”

“You are just saying that because you thought I had a great ass.”

“It is a great ass.” He said eyeing me up and down, a sly smirk on his face. “We should get going. It’s already raining cats and dogs.” Jisung paid for our meal and shoved his black hat back on my head with a smile, draping his arm over my shoulder as we walked out. He was correct. The rain was pelting down on the streets like bullets. “You ever been kissed in the rain?” He asked out of nowhere.

That mischievous smile glowed on Jisung’s face. “No, why?”

Without another word, Jisung pulled me out into the rain, soaking us both. His brown hair turned dark and stuck to his forehead as he pulled down my mask. My eyes glanced around the nearly empty street, before staring back into Jisung’s bright eyes. His long fingers lifted up my chin before resting on my cheek. The cool rain dropped around us, but I felt warm in his arms.

His lips dragged over mine, butterflies thundering in my stomach along with the rumble in the sky. My chest pressed against his, the wet fabric rubbing together. His teeth cheekily dragged over my bottom lip as I pulled away.

“Get out of the street!” Someone yelled honking their horn. Jisung and I turned to see a car’s headlights shining through the rain. We laughed and moved back under the awning. “Crazy kids!” The man yelled as he drove passed us.

I kissed Jisung again, tangling my fingers in his wet hair. “I love you,” Jisung whispered, pulling away. “All of you,” His hands ghosted over the curve of my hips. “Do you love all of me?”

“More than anything, Jisung.”

The cool rain sent a breeze under the cover. He pulled me closer to him kissing the top of my head. “Home?” He muttered looking around the wet street.

“Home.”

I pulled the dark fabric over his face, leaving nothing but his round lively eyes for me to see. His warm hand enveloped mine before we ran through the rain. Our feet splashed through puddles as each step brought us closer to the train that would carry us back to our little apartment.

✯

Bright light streamed through the bedroom window. An arm was wrapped tightly around my stomach. I smiled and shifted under the blanket so I could look at the handsome face of the man next to me. My eyes glanced at the clock before reaching over and stroking his hair.

“Jisung?”

He hummed, nestling into the pillow. I smiled feeling him reach for my hand and bring it to his lips. Drowsy kisses from his plump tired lips trailed over my skin. “You saying my name in the morning is so sexy.” My laugh filled the bedroom. His raspy voice never failed to send shivers down my spine.

“You think anything I say is sexy.” Jisung’s eyes slowly opened and his hands moved to rub his face, the muscles in his arms flexing ever so slightly. My fingers traced patterns over his bare chest, the skin radiating a welcoming warmth under my touch.

“No way. Prove it.” He said with a goofy smile.

Chuckling, I kissed his cheek. I thought about what to say. Leaning down, my breath fanned across his cheek. “I have to go shopping because we have no ramen left in the kitchen.” My words floated into his ear and I could see his cheeks redden at my tone.

Jisung groaned, pulling me fully on top of him. “Yeah, you were right. Anything you say is sexy.” He laid still for a moment, his hands rubbing up and down my back. “Do you need money for groceries?” He hummed. Shaking my head, I sat up, legs falling on either side of his waist. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Ji. You don’t have to pay for everything, you know.” He laid back with a smile on his face, hands behind his head. Jisung stared up at me keeping that sleepy bright grin on his face. “You should get up. You’ll be late before you know it.”

A sigh heaved from his chest as he watched me leave the bed. It was evident his eyes were trained on me as I sorted through our shared closet. “You’re right.” The rustling of sheets told me he was shuffling out of bed and most likely towards the bathroom to shower.

Soon I was walking Jisung to the cab he had called down in front of our building. The fabric of my leggings brushed together as I rushed forward pulling him back for one more kiss before he entered the taxi. “Don’t forget, we have a date with pizza and a drama tonight,” I whispered against his lips.

His long fingers gripped my waist, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. His warm touch slipped into the waistband leaving something paperlike between the tight fabric and my skin. “For the groceries.” Jisung pecked my lips before getting into the cab. “Love you!” He called, rolling down the window.

Waving back, I watched the car pull away from the curb and drive my boyfriend to his company. Curious, I reached for the money he slipped me. Had I worn a hoodie and not a crop top, he wouldn’t have been able to do so easily. It was a habit he had of spoiling me and paying for things despite my protests. “Good grief, Ji,” I muttered to the near empty street.

My feet carried me to a nearby supermarket. I walked the aisles tossing anything we needed into the cart I picked up at the entrance. My hands lingered on a bag of chips, debating whether I actually needed the study snack. Jisung never cared how much weight I put on or how much I lost. I was confident in how I looked, so I wanted chips. I would get chips. Smiling I tossed them in the basket before moving to the next aisle to pick up a few bottles of wine and soju. I never knew when Chan and Changbin would pop by for a ‘lyric session’ and need ‘inspiration’

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw two girls whispering and looking my way. More than a year with Jisung had taught me to have an observant eye in public places whether he was with me or not. They stopped their talk when I turned to look at them. After placing the bottle in my cart I waved to them with a kind smile before going on my way.

Jisung returned later than usual. But, then again. There was no usual for when he came home. He passed out on the couch while I ordered us a pizza. While I waited, I lazily scrolled through twitter until something caught my eye.

“Rapper Han Jisung Spotted With Supposed Secret Girlfriend”

My eyes skimmed the article searching for any proof. My heart sunk finding what I sought. Several pictures of Jisung and me from the day before were shown below. Our faces were seen as clear as day despite the rain. We should have been more careful. I sighed, head in my hands. Curious, I scrolled to see what his fans were saying.

“I can’t believe this”

“So he really was seeing someone?”

“She’s so fat! She doesn’t deserve him”

“My friend and I saw her at the supermarket. She had like eight bottles of soju in her cart. Alcoholism puts on wait you know.”

“She’s a drunk and fat. I can’t believe she’s dating our Han.”

“She looks like a cow. Seriously I understand why he hid her from us.”

“Guys, stop. If he is happy then leave him alone.”

“He looks disgusted in those photos”

“Does she not care about herself? She’s dating one of the greatest rappers in the industry and she looks like a heavy slob.”

I tossed my phone onto the kitchen counter, not wanting to look a the comments anymore. My shoulders felt heavier than usual. Shower. A hot shower always made me feel better. Abandoning my device, which was blowing up with notifications, on the counter I marched to the bathroom and turned on the water letting steam fill the room.

The scalding water pelted against my bare skin as I stood under the showerhead. After my skin turned red, I stepped out of the shower, wiping steam away from the mirror.

My eyes raked over the body I once thought beautiful. How could my mind change so quickly? The curves I used to love now seemed ghastly and unflattering. The rolls on my stomach seemed more prominent as I looked over my bare body. My fingers traced over the waved marks on my thighs and pelvis, wondering how I never noticed them before today.

“Y/n, baby?” A knock sounded at the door but did not wait for an answer to open. Instinctively, my hands slammed it shut shocking the man on the other side. “Woah- Babe, what’s wrong? Are you okay? It’s nothing I haven’t seen many many many times before.” The smirk in his voice was evident, but I still felt exposed, despite the towel I moved to wrap around myself.

“Just go away. I’ll be out in a sec. There is beer and soju in the fridge. Go get one; the pizza will be here soon.”

I waited until I heard Jisung walk away before turning the knob and sneaking into our bedroom. My fingers grasped at the first baggy shirt I could find, but looking in the mirror it hugged in places that should not be hugged and made my body look lumpy and fat. Throwing on some leggings and one of Jisung’s fluffy jackets I decided this was enough coverage suitable to walk around in.

Jisung’s eyes widened when I entered the living room. “Wow. You planning an expedition to Antarctica?”

“I’m just cold, Jisung.” He watched with wary eyes as I pull the jacket further around my body. The doorbell rang turning both our heads. “I’ll get it.” Jisung nodded and picked up the remote, turning on the TV.

Opening the door I expected to see a pizza delivery man waiting for his tip, but instead, the hallway was empty. Before I closed the door, my gaze landed on something on the welcome mat.

A bouquet of wilted, dried, dead flowers. A ribbon darker than black was wrapped around the fragile stems. With shaking hands, I picked up the flowers. Petals and leaves fell to the ground. A note was tucked between the graying stems.

Fat Bitch.

Subconsciously, I pulled the jacket around my body, covering as much as possible. “Y/n? Everything okay? They didn’t forget my garlic knots, right? They forgot last time.” Jisung’s voice called out. My eyes still stared down at the bouquet in my hands. “Baby?”

I felt cold. It felt like I wasn’t in my own body; like my soul had left this world leaving me a shell standing with no will of its own.

“What the fuck is this?”

Shaking myself out of the trance, I looked to see Jisung standing beside me anger flooding every inch of him. Not waiting for an explanation he took the bouquet from my hands, more petals falling to the floor. The note seemed to make him even angrier.

“Fuck,”

I closed the door and watched him throw the flowers onto the counter, sending dead leaves flying across the kitchen floor. He turned to me, fury in his eyes. He seemed to be waiting for me to say something. “We both knew this was going to happen sooner or later.” His jaw dropped, not believing my words.

“You aren’t furious? You aren’t pissed off? Why are you not bothered by this?”

“Jisung, I can’t be bothered by something I already know is true!”

He stared at the flowers littering the counter. “You can’t possibly think that...can you?” Jisung sighed watching me shrug and fiddle with the sleeves of his jacket. “Y/n...this is not you. What happened to the girl who surprised me in my studio wearing nothing but a trench coat and lingerie just because I said I missed your smile?” My gaze fell to the floor, fixated on one of the leaves. “Where’s the girl who went skinny dipping with me on the night of our anniversary in Jeju?”

“I don’t know, Jisung!” He was shocked hearing me yell. “They are right! Okay! I am a fat cow with no reason to be dating you. I’m not sexy and skinny and I don’t have the body of a model. You know who does? The girl you should be dating! Maybe I just don’t like myself anymore!”

“The Y/n I know and love didn’t care how much she weighed.”

“Well...maybe I’m not your Y/n anymore.”

“That I don’t believe.” Jisung took my face in his hands, staring into my eyes. “I know about the photos. I know about the comments. They are all false, okay? None of them are true and you know it.” His thumbs brushed over my cheeks, voice full of desperation and sadness.

“Jisung, I’m not beautiful. I don’t feel beautiful anymore. I don’t see how you can love someone who can’t even see themselves as pretty.”

He sighed, leaning down and capturing my lips in a breathtaking kiss. I could feel all his emotions, everything he wanted to say as his lips moved against mine. Jisung pulled away, his eyes looking lovingly into my own. “I don’t love you because you are beautiful,” He whispered, pushing a strand of wet hair behind my ear. “You are beautiful because I love you. All of you.”

“Even the stretch marks?”

“The stretch marks. The curves. All of you.”

Sighing, I rested my head against his chest. “Why did I even think that?” Jisung let out a shaky breath stroking my still damp hair. “Shit, I was so stupid to believe those comments for even a second.”

“I can’t blame you. I’ve done the same.”

Pulling away, my hands cupped his cheeks before moving to wrap around his neck. “I love you,”

“I love you more.” Jisung kissed my forehead, dark hair falling in front of his eyes. A thought came to mind that made me giggle. “What?” He asked with a smile, leading me back over to the couch.

“How did you even remember that studio thing? That was like...in the first month we were dating!”

He laughed, pulling me into his chest and falling back onto the sofa. “Are you kidding? That may have been the single greatest day of my entire life.”

“You are just a pervert.” Again the doorbell rang, causing both of our heads to peek over the top of the couch cushions. “Can you get it?” Jisung nodded and got out from under me. A few moments later he came back with two pizzas and his beloved garlic knots. “They didn’t forget?”

“Nope!” He said happily flipping open the boxes. “Here.” He pulled one away and fed it to me, the fluffy breading melting in my mouth.

“You know what I think?”

“What?” He asked already somehow halfway through the box of garlic knots.

“I think I can eat this entire pizza faster than you.”

He closed the garlic knot box, a wry grin on his face. “Oh, you are so on, babe.” He planted his feet firmly on the floor and turned to his pizza box. “Ready? Three....two....-” Before he finished counting down I grabbed a slice and stuffed it in my mouth. “Y/n that’s cheating!” Between bites, I laughed as I watched him try and catch up from my early start.

“Come on, twig boy! Catch up.” He laughed and shoved another slice into his mouth filling his cheeks.

✯

Requests are Temporarily Closed! Sorrrrrryyyy

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dreamiesdotcom · 4 years

Text

of inked pages and adventures | n.jm

Summary: Jaemin plays rock-paper-scissors, loses, ends up being dared to spend one boring hour every day in a boring library, and finds love in a person who's spent more time behind a book than under the Sun.

Word Count: 1975

a/n: so I tried to give y'all a fic with a happy ending bc some people yelled at me after slow akshdjdj

Of course, as to most of Jaemin's life-changing decisions, it starts with losing rock-paper-scissors, a dare, and Lee Donghyuck.

The second rule to life is to never listen to Donghyuck sober. Renjun kinds of disagrees with that, but in his defense, listening to sober Hyuck got him a boyfriend, after all — but in Jaemin's case, it's only given him headaches and careless adrenaline. Jaemin stands true to his words: the second rule to life is to never listen to Donghyuck sober. The first rule is to never listen to him drunk.

Everybody knows how terrible some people are at following such rules, and unfortunately, Jaemin is one of those people. Right now, he momentarily hates that.

It's nothing wild, per se, just strange — normally, the dares are either risking your life, reputation, or morals. Today, they've chosen for him to suffer; "Go and read books for at least an hour in the library. You can't fall asleep."

So here he is, standing in this dimly lit room full of books. He takes one of them blindly, dragging himself to a table in the farthest corner, and doesn't realize it yet that someone is already sitting there. You looked at him with an exhausted gaze, but as your eyes catch at the book's cover, they quickly brim with life.

"Psychology? Interesting."

"What?" he says, pouting a little, used to talking to people. Normally, it would make most people melt — your still expression doesn't change, so he tries a joke. "A handsome guy can't read psychology now?"

It doesn't work, but the barest hints of a smirk tugs at the sides of your lips, and you shake your head as if to say no.

"It's not everyday a cute boy reads the same books as I do."

Red stains his cheeks and in his panic, he keeps his eyes on his book. He feels distracted, kind of heady, a little lost; butterflies seem to soar in his stomach, a feeling he's only ever caused, not experienced. It sucks for him that he doesn't know what to do about it — because what do you do when you've met someone for the first time, and they told you such things like that, and your stupid heart won't calm the fuck down?

What kind of first meeting, right?

The first week was nothing compared to the first day. He learned to stay comfortable with this kind of silence, the type that's somber and kind of lonely; the one that makes whispers reverberate inside the room, almost haunted. He's grown familiar with some books, be it the ones that smell like fresh paper and ink or the musky ones with sweet undertones, both scents lingering around the room.

He learned how to exist in silence. For days, surely, he missed the noise even if the loss was just for an hour, being used to Donghyuck chattering the time away and Renjun calling him out on it. The quarrels were always there, and as much as back then, all he wanted was for it to stop, right now he wants nothing but for someone to speak.

But as days pass by, he starts to see its charm. He starts to grow fond of the small talks. More specifically, he starts to get used to the way all the words that needed to be said are laid out like exposed cards, no guessing of intentions or games. They're just words that mean exactly as they should, and that's all that Jaemin needs. Certainty. Assurance. Truth.

He looks up from his books, scanning the cover of yours. "You got a classic now?"

"Exams," you say, shoulders rising slightly. Your eyes don't lift from the sentences, but he's certain you've stopped reading. Only then does he notice the heaviness in your eyes, the invisible wall you've put up around yourself against everybody else.

"Shouldn't you be reviewing by this time?"

"No."

Amusement fills his gut, and he shakes his head a little. You go back to reading and he tries to do the same as well, but for a reason or two, he couldn't focus — under the warm library lights and beside the strange person he's shared counted words with, he flourishes like a rose in a full-blown spring.

To be true, Jaemin no longer has to spend an hour in the library. It was a silly dare, and it's over, and he can go back to going to parties or hanging out with his best friends. He doesn't even really like reading; to be fair, they're interesting. He just doesn't feel them as hard as people like Renjun does.

He can go back to his old ways now, to the lively nights and tiring thrills. In fact, he could've done so weeks ago — but these days, as if a habit, his feet take him back to the street he spent a month getting to know, walking to a place he spent hours trying to understand. There was a dull something about the library that makes him breathe.

It's not the books. It was never the books — he's heard of these magical things, the way they bring you to different places and timelines, each time a different person with a different story. He's heard of the spark they have and the addicting scent of ink on paper. He's heard it all, and that's pretty much it — he never got to experience the entertainment they seemed to hold for a special kind of people. He's seen a glimpse of it, though, in the reflection of your eyes; the way they gloom when something bad happens, the way they shine when something good does. He finds bits of magic there, alongside the wanderlust glittering behind your lids.

And if the books couldn't take him to an adventure, your eyes do.

"Why're you staring?"

Why was he staring?

"Poetry, huh?" he hides his nervousness with a grin. He rests his chin on his palms, staring at you as if he was in a reverie because he is. "Cute."

You run your fingers at the spine of the book, tracing the delicate covers with equally as delicate fingers, a heavy sigh hanging on your lips. "They're mostly free verses about world tragedies."

He couldn't help but grimace, "Oh, damn. That's hardcore."

Something in the proud smirk on your smile screams rebelliously regal, and he somewhat struggles to look away.

The first time you two meet outside the library, it's at a convenience store and you were pretty much half-awake. Jaemin points an accusing finger at you, "What're you doing here?"

"Buying coffee."

"At 4am?"

"Dude, you're doing the same thing?" you ask, amused. "Just let me pass."

And just like everything with Jaemin, it begins with a straightforward question: "Wanna walk together?" You can't really pinpoint who asked first, just that you both wanted it, and that you both spent minutes walking in circles until you decided on going to the park. It's a silent trip, something he's not used to, but either way, it's something he liked. The emptiness of the streets, the gloaming of midnight.

By the time you've reached the park, it's already five a.m and what's left to the darkness is the lingering scent of nighttime, fleeting around the breeze and cold touches. The shiver this phantom gives you is shortlived, the sun starting to make itself known through first warm rays. The foggy image of the street ahead stains golden, and to watch the town rouse awake stirs in your gut something oddly specific yet unnamed.

You let out a dreamy sigh.

"I just want melodrama, is that too much to ask?" you kick at a rock. "Can't a person just run in an empty hallway looking fancy as hell? Can't a person just scream angrily at the world as they hold their dying lover in their arms?"

Jaemin momentarily chokes on his coffee, eyes widening in horror. "Can't a person just what?!"

You laugh, a pleasant sound comparable to tinkling bells you'd probably hear when you enter a fantasy land. It's not a delicate laugh, nor is it a careless one; it's just a laugh, beautiful even if it's obvious that you didn't let your guards down. His heart swells in adoration.

###

Jaemin doesn't go to the library after that morning.

He's heard of the different ways some people fall in love; his friends didn't do it much, but whenever they do, it had been interesting. Donghyuck only experienced it once before he declares he's given up on it; it was young love, the kind of love that's what you knew it to be at the moment. Jaemin calls it the first kind of love, the one that's hard to forget.

Renjun's was a difficult kind. It longed for people who didn't want to love anymore, hearts that had been closed to the world after it tried to break it. Jaemin understood it as the kind that waits — through the pain, after most everything.

Jeno's was the most simple. He didn't understand a single bit of what he tried to say, but Jaemin called it the most simple because it's the hardest to understand; the in denial kind, the complicated kind, the thing most people feel.

This one, he hasn't heard of. He hasn't been warned about it, either; it came without notice, no alarms. It came blindly, and it looked nothing like what he thought love should look like. Every wall he's built crumbles down, and he ignores the fact that you've known each other for short months and barely even knew each other's names. This one, he calls a tunnel. To him who's quite confused, it's as if a deep, dark, and chilly tunnel; maybe a museum of realizations and you come out of it feeling like something's not quite right of yourself.

Once he accepts it, he finds himself here again, in that same table. After his long absence, he expected some anger, he expected coldness. Instead what he gets is softness, an empty seat directly in front of yours, and a very emotional string of words: "It's been lonely without you."

Jaemin doesn't think much before he speaks and it's one of the flaws that he didn't really mind because all he's said are nice words. He kind of rethinks that thought as he lays both arms on the table, resting his cheek on one and them dreamily staring at you; "You're gonna be the death of me."

There's no books this time. Instead, papers scatter uselessly, notebooks opened and pens of different colors rest wherever. Somewhere inside his brain, he almost hears Renjun scoff at how he's blatantly not studying despite having everything he needs to review, but he doesn't mind that. He sets his eyes on you, focused on jotting down important terms and their meanings. Under a trick of the light, he sees angel wings spread behind you.

Your stare shifts to him, and he basks in the sunshine it never fails to make him feel. You glow like fantasy and the admiration surges straight to his head, skipping his logic and rushing for his feelings; he thinks of you as a person who was never meant to be human — such etherealness simply couldn't be meant to be mortal.

"Huh?"

"I kind of fell in love with you and I just won't stop falling," he mutters, eyes closed. "You're gonna be the death of me."

"Are you trying to ask me out on a date?" you laugh, and he shoots up, sitting straight. Red flushes his cheeks again, much like the first day, but this time he couldn't look away — your hand rests atop of his, warm against each other. "If so, then yes."

"What?"

"Take me on a date first." you say, slower this time. "and then hopefully, many more."

#nct dream #na jaemin #nct dream x reader #nct dream imagines #nct dream blurbs #nct dream timestamps #nct dream drabbles #nct dream scenarios #nct dream reactions #jaemin drabble #jaemin fluff #jaemin scenarios #jaemin imagines #jaemin x reader #nct dream fluff #jaemin timestamps #bc i did him dirty with that angst on his bday

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cupsofsuga · 4 years

Text

𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 ━ 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐓𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 *:·。.

{ ⚠️} WARNING - This is a yandere au, meaning the following may be triggering to some viewers. I am not trying to discriminate the boys in any way, this is for entertainment purposes. Viewer discretion is advised!!!

{ ☕️} NOTE - this is in the order of the member’s obtained! thanks for the request, daisy! also, creds for idea goes to @bangtans-apollo!!!

{ 💐} ANON ASKED - ❝ Headcanons on how the fanclub discovered each other and reacted to each other’s obsession for YN? ❞

━━━ 𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐊𝐉𝐈𝐍

ah, the melancholic suffering of a lovelorn teenager

how he holds nothing but an eternity in the crevices of his heart

the serene sunlight, words dripped in saccharine, cloyed gestures

nothing hurts more than praying to whatever god truly exists that you’ll return the adoration but finding the fatal fate of no response

and that leaves jin now, seething with envy that could intimidate a pack of wolves

how dare the teacher not pair you up with your soulmate!? it’s just blasphemy!

someone gets to soak in the glitter of your presence, they get to bathe in the rain after a century in sunlight

all while he has to waste precious hours of his time with some plastic nobody

he has to waste time with bland, boring kim taehyung

he’s a dull star amongst a million planets, a saturated wasteland amongst an oasis of color

and how jin’s blood burns seeing that you flash that summer smile to someone who most certainly doesn’t deserve it

ditching the dinner date with his soulmate, jin is forced to work on this godforsaken project with the loner

if only you two had run away when you got the chance, relishing in each other’s warmth as he holds the privilege of looking into your eyes, which he finds resemble dewdrops held upon spider’s silk

that is the honeyed heaven he so badly craves to taste

and as he stumbles around taehyung’s adobe, the curiosity held within jin get’s the best of him as he stumbles into his bedroom

and oh god, what secrets did he uncover

your face, his lover’s face plastered all over the walls and ceiling

some even had his face punctured out of them, some taken without your consent, one’s that jin even took himself

and there’s that one sweater you once ranted to jin how you swore it vanished into thin air, and how he teased that ghost in your attic probably snatched it

if it was physically possible, there’d be steam seeping out of jin’s ears

he clutches his fists so tight, there would most likely be blood drawn; he clenches his teeth so tightly, he fears they might crack under the pressure

but, before jin turns tail, he then sees taehyung as fear swims in his irises

and then jin feels it,

a revelation, an act of generosity

❝ i think you could be useful… ❞

━━━ 𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐓𝐀𝐄𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐆

with every breath he takes, there lies humiliation

shame, a ruthless emotion he swore he’d never live to see the depths of

the summer amongst the dark clouds, all lied on a silver platter for your supposed boyfriend to see

but there is kindness in jin’s eyes, a sliver of evil dripped with every word he speaks

and therein, we have witnessed the blooming of the “writing club,” whose only members were lovelorn kids who’ve infatuation got the best of them

with some sugar-laced words, jin had managed to maintain a room for their meetings after school, taehyung quickly ditching his art club for these fleeting moments spent with the man closest to his love

no, taehyung had never been fond of jin, but, holds undying respect for him, anyways

his heaven lies in his words, his sunlight is seen in his eyes, the fate he craves so desperately is clutched in his hands

and it’s only so long before his grip weakens, and taehyung can rob jin of his pleasures in his moment of vulnerability

but, that future must wait as it frolics in the back of taehyung’s head

he must gain the trust of your childhood best friend before he catches his infinity like a firefly in a jar

but, with that being said, taehyung doesn’t mind all the hours he spent huddled in the tree outside your house, hiding behind a canopy of leaves as he admires the dream before him

he’ll sketch your face (which he can now draw from memory) in his notepad, ethereal poetry and doodles held around your sparkling face

he’ll snap a few photos, catching the fireworks and shooting stars in the purity of the fleeting moment

to simply have the privilege to love you silently holds the light of a million stars

oh, how he loves you…

how the earth bruises your cheeks, the moon litters your skin, the stars possess your eyes and the rings of saturn held in your touch

there’s pure bliss within every heartbeat lept

and there’s only so much time before he has you all to himself

he just hopes no burden will stop him from such…

━━━ 𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐊𝐎𝐎𝐊

the student’s that litter around these halls resemble parasites

all feeding off the others, annoying them with their deafening disunity, and all trailing behind others like burdens

but, there’s always been that one, that one that stands out like a sore thumb

bland, boring kim taehyung

a boy capable of summoning enough envy and rage within jungkook to crumble planets to nothing but ashes floating throughout the galaxy

how he denies his infatuation for you with red cheeks, but anyone with eyes can see those “adorable” dimples puncture his cheeks whenever he sees you in the halls

how he isn’t burdened by the overwhelming fate of unrequited love, drowning in his jealousy when you simply look at someone else

how he stalks in class you like a hawk would to prey, probably undressing you with his eyes like the freak he is!

how he simply exists, and how it makes jungkook churn with rage

and that leaves him now, dodging students as the race out of the school, hot on the tail of his rival

he must end him before he could potentially hold your heart in his hands

that single idea makes jungkook gag…

he hears taehyung’s voice, shoving a scoff back down his throat that could potentially jeopardize his identity

there’s another voice, too, but, jungkook assumes it’s another one of those art freaks who’s also pretentious with coincidences

then there’s your name, and it would’ve sounded like it was dripped in gold if it didn’t leave the mouth of his sworn enemy

and then he hears of this writing club, and jungkook seethes

these lowlifes get to breathe in the fragrance of those fleeting moments, which is a fate jungkook whose he is well-deserving of, not them

to simply touch the crevices of your soul carved in silk for just a mere second is a privilege

and letting these cretins possess that opportunity is simply unholy

despite holding a burning hatred for the rest of the memories, for you, jungkook would drag himself through the depths of hell

he just prays that the club members don’t pray too far under his skin

he doesn’t know if he can control himself.

━━━ 𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐉𝐎𝐎𝐍

oh, y/n l/n…

an angel in the purest form, a humid june afternoon

they are a touch softer than autumn’s breeze, their word’s sharper than winter’s embrace, eyes starlit like the dreamy land of springtime, their presence like the bliss of summer and the melancholic longing after it’s demise

they hold within them the entire galaxy and namjoon can’t help but stare

but, there’s another pair of eyes

and they are burning bullet wounds into his soul with a craving to mutilate him swimming in their irises

as the bell rings its tumultuous song and deadbeat kids begin to litter the halls, namjoon is suddenly shoved against the locker by no other than the modern-day jeffrey dahmer

jeon jungkook, dust amongst a field of flowers

his sadistic pleasures and his lust for blood, the holy scent of iron that smoothes out all the creases

❝ if i catch you staring at my Y/N like that again, i’ll tear you apart limb from limb. ‘got it, dipshit? ❞

he is in all means terrifying, but, is nothing but a little boy to namjoon

time has passed, a damn near million tabs are held upon the screen all containing the history of namjoon and his family’s wealth

jin, who had been reported the incident by a fuming jungkook had found an opportunity in the depths of his teenage angst

he’ll feed into namjoon’s desire to touch you across hundreds of separating years

he’ll pray into his craving to kiss you as the naked moon sets for the final time

he’ll reach into his heart and use namjoon for his benefit

and how the rest of the members all fed off of his wealth like parasites

anything their little heart desired, they’d hold in their possession

as much as namjoon longs to deny them pleasure, he had been threatened to lose his place in the club and every inkling of access he has to you if he dared disobey

and namjoon would rather die than lose his love to the eternal night

the strange and enigmatic masterpiece, the ancient moon across a sea of stars

his violet lover has been sawed through by nostalgia, and his infatuation glows harder than a summer sunset

although jin’s intentions have a mile or two to run before they stab him in the back, namjoon still has a clear vision of his goal

and there shall be no burden before he meets his longed fate.

━━━ 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐊

you, a flower itself, flood his brains like a tsunami to a pitiful city

you, a strawberry in winter, hold sly ways of slithering your way into the recesses of his heart once more

that leaves jung hoseok here, letting the teacher’s words fade to white noise as he doodles your name adorned with hearts on flowers in his notebook

there is distant gossip and whispers that echo from afar, which hoseok picks up due to his childlike curiosity

it begun with useless chitter-chatter, then dissolving to the melodic sound of your name which tumbles from their lips

he listens as the two boys curse the teacher for giving you a D on your exam, them mentioning this supposed ‘club’ that circled everything around you

hoseok was smart, he could raise your grade!

oh, how hoseok would just die to help you with your studies!

with a paradise sparkling in his eyes, he sparks up a conversation with the group, also known as kim namjoon and jeon jungkook

but, the doe-eyed teenager hisses at him, barking at him to ‘keep his fucking mouth shut’

he takes the hint, leaving the conversation with a silent ocean welling up in his eyes

but, this is the embodiment of hope that sits in this dull classroom

he’ll crawl around the corners of his soul till he’s enervate to retrieve what he has longed for

and that leads us up to now, as hoseok stalks to the two from a safe distance, watching as they disappear to the writing club

and just before the door closes, hoseok peeks through the crack of the door and finds the identity of kim seokjin, a boy he’s seen accompany you multiple times

the following day, while the students all stare in confusion for the small boy walking through the halls, hoseok finds him and confronts him

by the look of purified fear, this ‘writing club’ was a hushed secret, and him knowing of this secret was dangerous enough, as it is

after negotiating about how he’d contribute to your satisfaction, jin had no choice but to accept his offer

he doesn’t want this loud-mouthed kid to run up and down the halls preaching about their sins, anyways

the rest of the club members didn’t favor his arrival, all shooting looks of envy and hatred

but, there was no other choice

their fate is written in the stars and complimented with a wax steal upon an envelope.

━━━ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍

opening his locker, jimin finds a taste of eden’s garden as he finds your face strung upon the wall

there’s irises, rivers, fairies, and peaches within the single picture cutout from the yearbook as he sighs dreamily at the sight

his daydream of honeyed days is quickly disrupted as his best friend, hoseok interrupts his thoughts with stars circling in his eyes

before he can find the words to scold him, hoseok begins rambling about this ‘club’ at a rate to fast for jimin to decipher

he hears tales of his dreams, a chance to taste your beauty

this most definitely sparked his undying interest, ushering his best friend to continue with his intentions to get the boy warped in this world

thus, we are taken to the night where the clock reads 3:38 AM in it’s bright, neon hues

the boys would never dream of staying up this late, especially on a tuesday night as the fear for the scolding of their parents’ echos, but, the adrenaline that seeps through their veins serves as a protection

because of the prophecy of this new club, they are rebelling

and as a new day rises and the sun shimmers in all of its celestial beauty, the boys have come up with a plan

every club needs a mission manager!

and who else would be perfect for this job no other than park jimin…? right?

well, let’s just say, despite his unreasonable, childish, and almost dangerous plans, the rest of the boys weren’t happy upon his arrival

the sighs of annoyance to his careless nature, the scoffs of envy when he speaks words of poetry about everything as little as when you made eye contact that one time 2 months ago

jimin’s contribution isn’t favored, but, if it’s for you, all 6 boys are willing to drag themselves through hell and back

every member holds an undying love for the god/goddess themself, all possessing a wild heart that they’d bled dry if you asked

and jimin is just one branch of the group who also holds an intense infatuation

the water to his parched heart, the flowering spring in a winter haze

he has found the sun as it shimmers against the snow

and nothing is as holy as this.

━━━ 𝐌𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐈

another dull day at the café, yoongi listens to his longing for spring’s voice

his hatred for this place burns bright and softly, as he dwells in the anger held within his small body

the college kids, the early morning joggers, all possessing ways of churning yoongi’s anger, one-by-one

obligated to put on a plastic smile for their sake has wars prancing through his head

but then, there’s you

oh, and those lively eyes he craves to gaze into for eternity and the soft furrow in your brow when you stare at the menu

he is mesmerized and listens to the songs of summer as he drowns in your stare

you haven’t taken notice to the hearts that swirl within his eyes as you order, unfortunately, and therefore leave a boy longing for a taste of the sun

during this fit of a daydream, 6 boys stumble in, all conversing at abnormally obnoxious levels

yoongi has to shove a scoff back down his throat and bring a halt to the urge to roll his eyes and dresses himself in the facade

as they all order and then continue their chatter elsewhere, yoongi can resume his illusions about your sparkled presence

whilst in the process of finishing a cappuccino, he hears the sugary melody of your name

he freezes, then concludes he must be hallucinating, resuming the process of the drink in his hands

after all, spending hours upon hours in this sacred place causes his mind to go hazy at times

the lilied waters of your eyes, skin like roses in the evening

you are so, so very loved by the boy at the café

starting up the hot chocolate with “extra sugar,” he hears it once more

does he need to stretch out his sleeping schedule or was this real?

were they truly speaking of you, or has he truly gone insane in the late afternoon?

peeking over his shoulder, that’s when yoongi sees it

your face was drawn upon a notepad, all fluttered hearts and empty petals around your face

the soul of the planets, the green pigment of the gardens, all held in this stranger’s arms

with determination, yoongi is required to learn more of this guest who spoke hushed tales of you

he’d do anything to know more about the star who enlightens his grey days

and now, the club is complete.

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