#the genre is weird and the endings are always so...*vaguely waves hands*

[note-boom]

No wait. But I love how Bungo Stray Dogs is a story in which a tragedy or a comedy could happen, and that I don't know what form a tragedy or comedy could take.

A happy ending where everyone lives? It could happen given the amount of characters who want to die, and how almost all of them struggle with their reason to live.

A happy ending where major characters in the ADA and Port Mafia die? Yes, given the way the narrative constantly tells us the tragedy of life a fatal ending could also be constructed as a happy one.

A tragic ending where life continues but also continues as meaningless and as a struggle? How nothing changes and it just keeps going and going?? Yeah, that sounds plausible. Zenki Soukoku and Soukoku are proof of the same doomed cycle of partnerships and betrayals and bitter partings.

A tragic ending where everyone dies? Yeah...they haven't found their goals yet. There are characters left to mourn them Rimbaud and Odasaku and the Flags style.

The point is that life is precious, as we see through the characters that die, Kunikida, Atsushi, Yosano, etc. Death is freedom, as we see through some of the characters still alive like Dazai, Fyodor, even Akutagwa to some extent, etc. And both come into intense scrutiny through all the characters. What's so freeing about death? What's so great about life? Is my reason to live worth enough? Is death really the ending I want?

I just seriously love how the manga is basically this intense battle between life and death framed through humanity's craving for purpose, their despair, their blindness or their clear sight and in this essay I will -

#i had to stop cause i wasnt making any sense #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd musings #bungou stray dogs #spitting nonsense #and yes im aware bsd is more than just a battle between life and death and has too many themes and philosophical discourse #it's strange though because i dont MIND what kind of ending this manga will have #life or death im good with both #both because of the themes and struggles and also cause this is a seinen and seinens are Messed Up #but i guess their all-over-the-place plots and messings with time etc are part of its weird charm #the genre is weird and the endings are always so...*vaguely waves hands* #anyway i signed up to this so i guess I'll have to see it through :| #rambling in the tags sorry

[sheeple]

Miracles don't exist | Epilogue

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): None A/n: It feels weird uploading the last part of the story. Shoutout to everyone who has been following the story — from the beginning and from the end. [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

It's dark around you. Dark and dingy and it vaguely smells of mould. It makes your nose itch. Every way you look is pitch black. Only when you focus really hard you spot a faint light in the distance. You start to walk towards it, in the hope of escaping. 

But the more your speed picks up, the farther the light goes. Until you're sprinting and the light is gone. You collapse on the ground and heave while tears start to pool in your eyes. 

You let out a scream and your voice echoes around you. Clutching your head tightly, you curl up into a ball and rock yourself back and forth. The silence of the void is all-consuming, swallowing you whole.

Your eyes open widely as your chest raises rapidly. Cold sweat runs down your temples and you turn your head, to look at your husband. Tired eyes look at you with concern. Knitting your brows together, you shuffle into his embrace. "Sorry for waking you up", you whisper, your voice wavering with sleep.

"Was it the same one?", he asks, stroking your back while his other hand takes hold of your hand, pressing kisses against the inside of your wrist, his lips ghosting around the Mark. He always does this when he wants to soothe you.

You hum and close your eyes. "It's been so calm lately." Clutching tightly onto the back of Theo's sleepshirt, you try your best to forget the memories.

The two of you know why your nightmares are resurfacing. It's the first time in years that you're back on British soil. The first time since the end of the war. 

Immediately when the end was declared, Theodore and you got your affairs in order and left Great Britain for Canada. You had to leave. England was never your home and you're happy now, with your little bookshop that caters to wizard and non-wizard kind. 

And the weirdest part is that you're back for Hermione and Ron's wedding. Yes, you've kept sending letters to Hermione — and when you finally got a computer communication got way easier — but you never expected her to want you to be at her wedding. A lot has changed in five years.

It was actually Theo who convinced you to go. "If not for the ceremony, then for the reception afterwards. Didn't you always say you two were friends?" He raises his brows with a teasing glint in his eyes and you know he's right. By now you've learned that he's almost always right. Almost.

You're lucky you've kept the cottage by the sea. It's the only happy thing about coming back. The sound of waves crashing against the shore calms you as you squeeze your eyes closed in the hope of going back to sleep. But it's no use. 

Once you hear the grandfather clock downstairs chime six times, you decide that you've laid awake enough and you slip out of bed. Making sure Theo's tucked in warmly, you put on your robe and make your way downstairs. 

You turn on the water cooker and start to prepare for breakfast, softly humming to yourself as the silence of the old house is jarring to you.

Over the years you've discovered that you don't do well with silence. Call it trauma from the war or just living in a bustling city, but not having any music on in the background makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up straight. And since you still have to buy a radio for the cottage, you have to make do with humming to yourself.

Two arms wrap around you from the back as Theodore buries his nose in the nape of your neck. He holds you close to his body as he watches you fry the eggs.

"Morning", you muse, laying a hand over his own. He grumbles while pressing butterfly kisses against your skin. A soft giggle escapes you as he stays clutched tightly around you while you plate up the food.

A disapproving hum gets muffled against your skin as you try to unfold his arms from you to have breakfast.

Then, an idea pops into your head. "I was thinking of taking a bath after breakfast. Do you want to join me?" You feel Theo halt his ministrations before quickly letting go and practically throwing himself in front of his breakfast.

"What are you standing there for?! Eat up!"

You're nervously chewing on the inside of your cheek as you walk towards the entrance of the tent, Theodore's hand clutched tightly in your own, grounding you.

The reception is beautifully lit with stars and fairy lights. Tables are spaced around and people mingle around. Off to the side stand Hermione and Ron, welcoming guests who haven't been at the ceremony.

Hermione's face lights up when she spots you and you hurry your steps towards her. The two of you hug for the first time in years and you can't wipe the wide smile off your face.

"Oh, how lovely you look!", you say once you've parted, admiring her beautiful wedding dress.

Hermione's glowing and the dress compliments her perfectly. The tule floats around her and sparkles under the lights.

"I'm so happy you came. We'll talk later, okay?", she says as the next guests enter the reception.

You nod and take Theo's hand to find the table you're assigned to. He pulls the chair out for you and you thank him with a smile. Slowly the table fills and the speeches begin.

First, it's Mr Granger. He tells about her growing up and the sacrifices she made during the height of the war to ensure her parents were safe. Then it's Mr Weasley, who gives a somewhat funny speech. He ends with the question of what a toaster does before he's ushered away from the mic.

And finally Harry. He still wears the same round glasses and his hair is also the same, although less unruly. Seeing him after such a long time makes you feel weird, how much you want to ignore the feeling.

Under the table, you feel Theo lay a hand on your thigh. When you look at him, he gives you a reassuring smile while squeezing your knee. You lay your hand over his own and continue listening to the other speeches.

Dinner gets served and you converse with the people around the table. That's how you discover you're seated with Hermione's cousin and a good friend from Ron's work.

Once dessert has been cleared, everybody's free to mingle around. "I'll get us something to drink from the bar. What do you want?", asks Theo as the two of you stand to the side, watching Hermione and Ron dance.

"Cola's fine. Thanks, babe." He gives you a quick peck before he's off to the bar.

You're not alone for long as someone slowly comes to stand next to you. Looking to the side, you're eye to eye with Harry. Your body tenses and you clench your hands to fists. "Hello."

"Hi", he answers back simply, clutching a glass of champagne tightly in his hands. "How have you been?"

"Good", you nod, praying that Theodore returns soon, "you know, just… living life. And you?"

Harry nods. "The same, honestly. I've been in the Auror force for almost five years now."

"Really? I've always thought you would get into teaching." You chew on the inside of your cheek, surveying the room.

After that, silence falls between the two of you. You're still not totally at ease next to Harry. It's been a while but the memories still haunt you.

Harry takes a sip of his champagne, watching Ron twirl and dip Hermione with wide smiles on their faces. "Did I ever have a chance?"

The question makes your stomach drop. "Yes", you answer after a moment or two, "but after- after sixth year- I was so afraid you would hurt me again, Harry. And that the next time, you would kill me." You swallow thickly, glancing at the bespectacled man next to you, gauging his reaction.

Harry looks shocked at your reaction and his hand reaches out but stops just short of your arm. it closes to a fist before dropping next to him. "I could never hurt you intentionally. I loved you too much… still do."

"Stop", you say while shaking your head, taking a couple steps away from him. "Stop it, Harry. You're with Ginny. And Teddy and I… We're a family." Subconsciously, you lay a hand on your stomach and Hary's eyes focus on the movement.

He takes a moment to realise what you're implying. "You're pregnant?", he asks bewildered. Something flashes through his eyes. Could it be… hurt?

As he takes a step towards you, you take one back. And praise the heavens, Theo comes back at the right time. "Potter", he says, giving you your glass and standing protected in front of you.

Harry relents and creates some distance between him and the two of you. "Nott. Congratulations on the pregnancy." It comes out forced. With one last flickering look towards you, he turns around and walks off.

You follow him until he is back at his label, taking place next to Ginny, who's already looking at you with an unreadable look. You must up a kind smile and wave towards her. Ginny does not return the gesture and turns her back towards you.

A deep breath escapes you and you take a large sip of your drink.

"What did he want?", asks Theo as he lays a hand on your hip.

You shake your head. "I'm not sure myself. Going here was a mistake, Teddy. Can we please just go?" You look up at your husband with pleading eyes.

Without hesitation, he nods and the two of you collect your belongings. You shoot Hermione a quick text as an apology saying you're not feeling too well and that you didn't want to bother her.

Once outside of the venue, you apparate back towards your home. With a sigh, you kick off your shoes and let yourself fall onto the bed. You look up at Theo as he undoes his tie. "I love you", you say, watching his face soften.

He walks closer towards the bed and drags you towards him by your ankles. You let out a giggle, sitting upright. He traces your face with his fingers before closing the gap and pressing his lips on yours. You close your eyes and hum into the kiss, pulling him closer by his neck.

When Theo breaks the kiss, he leans his forehead against yours. "I love you. The both of you."

Taglist (bold means I couldn’t tag you): @the0doreslover @lqndkxlmqma @st4rrry  @choppedpartymuffinwinner @ledtassoo @literallyobessed @lestat-whore​ @vanishingcherry @harrysnovia @pietrobae @ireallywannasleep127 @yeolsbubbles @fruityfrog505 @fluffybunnyu @theroyalmanatee @shinrjj @hegdus @kermits-bitch @m1kasawps @noah-uhhh-what @mypolicemanharryyy @fals3-g0d @decapitated-coffee @thatgirljas13 @slytherinambitious @raineisms @mastermindmiko @timmytime17 @regsg18 @supernatural-lover @bubybubsters @lafrone @hermionelove @the-sander-fander @akengii @aliciacat20 @unstablereader @burns-in-the-sun @rachelnicolee @damagelove @mqndrqke @llpovi @clairesjointshurt @222244445555 @jolly4holly @padf00ts-l0ver @fandom-life-12 @prettyb1tchsblog @pari-1 @f14ever @nopedefe @randomgurl2326 @rinalouu @yazminetrahan @ellen3101 @comfyvic

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter scenarios #harry potter x reader #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #harry potter x slytherin!reader #harry potter x riddle!reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy scenarios #theodore nott #theodore nott scenarios #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x slytherin!reader #theodore nott x riddle!reader #hogwarts #hogwarts scenarios #hogwarts x reader #hogwarts x y/n #hogwarts x you #hogwarts x slytherin!reader #hogwarts x riddle!reader #hogwarts!au #slytherin!reader #riddle!reader

[agustdakasuga]

Reflection Of You | Chapter 17

Genre: Historical!AU, Timetraveller!AU/ Different Dimension, Romance

Pairing: SUGA x Reader, Yoongi x Reader

Characters: Normal!Reader, Idol!Suga, King!Yoongi, Guard!Seokjin, Guard!Jungkook, RoyalAdvisor!Namjoon, Servant!Jimin, Servant!Hoseok, Prince!Taehyung

Summary: Confirming you were dating the famous Min Suga of BTS, you knew you were bound to make some enemies. But what you didn’t expect was to be cursed, leading you to meet a cold-hearted, arrogant king that shares the same face as your rapper lover.  

It’s hard for Yoongi to open up. It’s hard for him to show the feelings that he’s been bottling up all those years. But maybe, just maybe, it’s time to let all of them go. 

Seokjin had come to inform you that Yoongi requested your company for dinner in the dining room. He waited for you to freshen up and escorted you and Jimin there. It was like deja vu as you took your seat to wait for Yoongi.

“The great king of Joseon, Min Yoongi, will be making his entrance.” Jungkook announced. Seokjin and Jimin bowed. 

“Long live the king.” They chorused. You remained seated this time, not even standing or bowing to Yoongi. Yoongi entered and stared at your still seated form, a small smile grazing his lips. You will never change and that’s what he liked about you. 

“Still refusing to bow down?” 

“You’ll live long enough, even without my wishes.” You scoffed. Yoongi chuckled and sat down in his spot. He waved at everyone to exit the room, leaving the two of you alone.

“How was gardening?” Yoongi asked as you poured alcohol into his cup. 

“It was so fun! I learnt a lot from the gardener! We planted some seeds and some plants that were already in pots.” You rambled. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” Yoongi reached out to pat your head. The simple gesture was something he did so often now that it didn’t even seem weird to the both of you anymore. 

“And I didn’t know advisor Namjoon is also an avid gardener. Apparently, he waters the garden plants every day and he even has this huge plum tree!” You continued, even using your arms to try and show how big the tree was. But of course, it was an underestimation. Yoongi watched you with amusement, taking a sip of alcohol. 

“Is he now?” Yoongi asked. Of course, he knew that Namjoon liked plants and did all that but he thought he would entertain you a little. 

“Yeah. Jimin says the plums are sweet when harvested and the plum wine that is made from them is really good. I hope to try it sometime.” You nodded with a hopeful smile. 

“I can get it for you now.” 

“There’s no need-”

“Namjoon!” Yoongi shouted. As if they were listening in on the conversation, Namjoon immediately opened the door with a bow. 

“(y/n) here heard about the plum wine we make from the harvest of plums from your tree. She would like to try some. Fill a bottle for her to have now.” Yoongi said. Namjoon nodded and promptly exited the room. 

“I didn’t mean I needed to try it now, Yoongi. Geez.” You scoffed. Yoongi ignored your comment and continued eating. Namjoon returned with a small ceramic decanter. He bowed and knelt by the side of the table to fill the small cups with the plum wine. 

“Have some.” You said to Namjoon. Namjoon turned to Yoongi, who nodded his head in approval. 

“Thank you.” Namjoon bowed his head as you took the decanter to pour some into a new cup for him. The 3 of you clinked cups before taking a drink. It was sweet and fruity. 

“It’s so good!” You complimented. Namjoon couldn’t help but smile. 

“I’m happy you like it.” He laughed. When he was done, he bowed his head and exited the room. 

“What about you? Did you have a good... meeting?” You asked Yoongi slowly. Yoongi raised an eyebrow at you trying to start small talk with him but he shrugged, being vague with his answer. 

“Whether it was good or bad, I hope you feel happy or relieved that it’s at least over.” You smiled. Yoongi stopped and stared at you. 

“What?” 

“Nothing. Just thinking about something else.” He shook his head and continued eating. You blinked but shrugged and ate as well. Yoongi picked out the bigger pieces of boneless braised meat and placed it onto your plate, surprising you. You looked at the piece of meat as if it was a foreign substance and looked up at him. 

“You seem to always struggle to remove the bones. And you give the boneless meat to the other me. I’ll do the same for you.” He excused. You couldn’t help but laugh as Yoongi acknowledged the ‘other him’. 

“So you acknowledge that there’s another you somewhere out there?” 

“I never said I didn’t. You just don’t tell me much about him, how different or similar he is from me.” He said. 

“What do you want to know?” You asked. Obviously, both Yoongis were rather different but as you got to know the Yoongi in front of you, you do seem to find similarities every now and then. 

“What can you tell me about him?” 

“Hmm... I mean, you look exactly the same, you already know that. You’re both deathly pale and bear resemblance to cats. You both love tangerines and you’re both night people instead of day people. Not that big a fan of sweets...” You listed out. 

“I fail to see how I look like a cat.” Yoongi blinked. It took a long while for your Yoongi to come to terms with the whole ‘lil meow meow’ thing too. 

“Trust me. It’s there. Oh and you both squint like this when you’re focusing on something.” You giggled, mimicking him. 

“You’re finding too much amusement in this.” 

“I don’t think I know you well enough to tell the differences. But my Yoongi... When you first meet him, he just seems cold, guarded and introverted. Yes, he is introverted. But he’s not cold at all.” You said, swallowing your food. 

“He’s guarded because he had been wounded before by the rest of the world. And even when we got together, I realised that he just isn’t one to really show his feelings, or at least verbally. He shows his love and care through his actions. That’s what I liked about him. He was very comfortable to be around and he made me lower my guard too.” You smiled. 

“He sounds like a perfect human.” 

“He’s not, he’s far from it. I am the same. We’ve both come to realise it. Sure, we’ve had our fights and arguments but at the end of the day, we work it out. It takes two hands to clap, right?” You looked up at Yoongi.

“You miss him.” Yoongi stated. 

“Of course. Even before we were together, he was my safety blanket for years.” You said sadly, looking at your food. 

“When I’m sad, he makes me laugh or he cries with me. He worries for me, even when he should be worrying about himself.” Tears blurred your vision. Suddenly, you felt someone pull your head to a chest. 

Yoongi didn’t know what to say. Just like your Yoongi, he wasn’t good with words, he only knew how to show he cared with his actions. 

“Sorry, I digressed.” You said. 

“It’s okay.” Yoongi whispered, stroking the back of your head. He used the end of his sleeve to wipe your tears. Sitting back down, the two of you continued talking as you finished the food. You wanted to ask about Mirae but you knew it was a sensitive topic for Yoongi so you didn’t bring it up. 

“Later, can we walk in the garden?” You asked. 

“That excited about the garden?” Yoongi teased. You flushed, clearing your throat sheepishly. 

“Of course, we can. I can’t wait to see your hard work.” Yoongi finished. That made you feel even more embarrassed. It was like a child pestering her parent to see her artwork. 

“I heard the garden was your mother’s?” You gulped. Yoongi seemed to falter for a few seconds before straightening up. 

“It’s not hers but she did enjoy maintaining it. She worked very closely with the royal gardener to constantly upgrade it to be better. Kind of like what you did today.” Yoongi explained. You nodded your head slowly. 

“Keeping it alive and maintained now is the best I can do for her, even after her death. She would not be pleased with me letting all her hard work go to waste. I’m not really good with plants but I’m glad Namjoon and the gardener take care of it. And now you help maintain it too. My mother would have greatly appreciated that.” Yoongi said. 

“She sounds like an amazing woman.” 

“Hmm.” Yoongi hummed. You mentally scolded yourself, of all topics, why did you have to mention Yoongi’s mother? 

“I felt like I lost the opportunity to get to know her better. My father never let her care for me as a normal mother should. He wanted her to care for him only and that was her flaw, constantly kowtowing to him.” Yoongi continued. 

“I don’t think it’s a flaw.” You said. 

“It’s not a flaw to give up all free will and follow a man, who’s not even loyal to you, like a dog? That you neglect your kid?” Yoongi raised an eyebrow. 

“That’s what you saw, Yoongi. I’m not saying you’re wrong, you could be right but was that how she really felt? Did you ever know her true intentions behind her actions? Maybe she never meant for you to feel neglected. I’m sure you had moments with her where she showered you with love.” You said. 

“Yes, I had my moments with her. But they were always short lived because my father ruined it. Every time I tried to tell myself she actually loves me, she proves me wrong.” Yoongi’s fists shook. 

“What if she was protecting you?” You asked. 

CLANG! 

Yoongi stood up with such force that the low table of bowls and cutlery flipped over, spilling food remnants all over the floor. You stared at the mess in shock, looking up at Yoongi. He breathed heavily, standing over you. 

“Leave.” He warned. 

“I’m sorry, Yoongi. I shouldn’t have-” 

“I don’t want your apologies. I said leave.” His eyes flashed anger as he shook. You immediately scrambled to your feet and pulled the door open. 

“(y/n) nim!” Jimin rushed to you. They had all heard the loud clash but were too afraid of entering the room. You stared at Jimin, lips pressed into a firm line. Turning away from him, you ran to your room. 

“(y/n) nim!” Jimin ran after you, leaving Hoseok, Seokjin, Jungkook and Namjoon. Usually, you would have fought back or argued with him but seeing the resentment and anger in Yoongi’s eyes, you knew he was warning you to leave before his temper took over so you decided to make a break for it. You were actually afraid he would hurt you. 

“J-Jeonha-” The 4 that remained bowed but all they felt was the silk of their king’s robes brushing against them as he exited the dining room. 

“(y/n) nim.” Jimin stood outside your door, knocking softly. He could hear the soft echoes of your sobs. It was like everything was back to the way it was on day 1 when you arrived. 

“I-I just n-need to catch m-my b-breath.” You tried to sound okay to Jimin, who didn’t believe you one bit. 

“Can I come in?” He asked softly. 

“I’d r-rather you n-not.” You croaked from your dark corner in the room. Jimin sighed. He didn’t want to leave your side, he wanted to make sure that you weren’t hurt, he wanted to comfort you and stop your cries. However, he knew that he shouldn’t force you too.

“Please.” He tried for the last time. 

“Come.” Your voice was soft but he heard it. Slowly the door creaked open and Jimin came in to see your huddled figure. Immediately, he went to help you up and led you to the bed to lie down.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you.” Jimin whispered. You shook your head, you didn’t want him to feel guilty.

“It’s not your fault. It’s all mine. I shouldn’t have pushed him.” You said.

“What happened?”

“I brought up his mother. And it just escalated too fast.” You explained, regret written all over your face. Jimin softened as your eyes casted down with guilt. He took a clean handkerchief from the cupboard and gently wipe your face of its tears. He didn’t interrupt you and instead continued to listen as you explained what happened in the room.

“Jeonha’s relationship with his mother was always a touchy subject for him. But you didn’t know that.” Jimin spoke. 

“But I knew he was getting angry and uncomfortable. And yet, I continued to question him and doubt his feelings, the feelings he had been bottling up since he was a child.” You said. 

“That’s one of the reasons he resents Taehyung gun.” Jimin explained. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You know how Taehyung gun’s mother is. She was bubbly, kind and loving to Taehyung. She didn’t care that he wasn’t crown prince, he was just her son to her. Jeonha hated seeing them together.” Jimin started. 

“Jeonha wasn’t wrong in a sense... They did share their moments, like I said, they would be in the garden together. But all it took was for the king to call her and she would just leave jeonha there to stay with him. To jeonha, who was just a child, that was betrayal. Countless times.” Jimin explained. 

“And all I did was doubt him.” 

“Not true. You were right too. Jeonha didn’t see the fear in his mother’s eyes. She did try to speak up but what good comes out of defying the king. The king who can hurt your child, the crown prince.” Jimin smiled sadly. 

“How do you know all this Jimin? Aren’t you about the same age as Yoongi?” You tilted your head. 

“My mother worked as one of the queen consort’s servants before me. She saw everything and comforted the queen consort when she was upset.” 

“So Yoongi’s mother was trying to protect Yoongi...” 

“Yes. The king was very obsessed with the queen consort. He didn’t want to let anyone else her, even his own child. Yes, he had a harem of concubines but he always kept her by his side and never wanted her away for too long. She was someone special to him and he wanted her to only look at him. He was willing to hurt anyone who took her away, jeonha included.” Jimin said. 

“Jeonha grew up hating his mother. But a part of him still held to the few memories he had of her. The garden, for example. His mother is also the reason jeonha doesn’t believe in love.” He continued.

“That’s horrible. He must have felt so much hurt and felt all alone.” You hung your head down. 

“But I think you staying by his side has changed him.” Jimin lifted your head up with his finger. You stared at him in confusion. He giggled and just wiped your remaining tears. 

“Let’s get you washed up.” He helped you stand up and led you to the bathroom. You brushed your teeth and he combed your hair, helping you change out of your hanbok and into sleepwear. 

“Wait, Jimin. What did you mean by-”

“Get some rest, (y/n) nim. I’ll see you when the sun rises.” He smiled softly after tucking you into bed. 

“Goodnight, Jimin.” You yawned. Jimin exited your room. He stared at your door for a few seconds before he finally was able to turn and walk away.

-

Yoongi stood in his garden, his anger was slowly starting to dissipate. He scoffed, this dinner was supposed to be relaxing and a chance for him to get to know more about where you come from, ending with the both of you taking a walk in the garden with you showing him your new plants and flowers proudly. 

But you just had to bring his mother up.

“You always ruin everything.” He said to no one in particular. Well, he was referencing his mother, who wasn’t even alive anymore. 

“Why does it always have to end up this way?” Yoongi was now asking himself. He clenched his fists as the resentment for his mother bubbled within him. 

However, what caused his anger to fade was that he couldn’t ignore the memory of your eyes and how much fear was in them. As if you were actually afraid that he was going to hurt you. 

“I’m sorry, Yoongi. I shouldn’t have-” 

You actually apologised to him. He had expected you to argue back or stand against him but all you did was back away with fear and leave as you are told. What was happening to him? There was a dull ache in his chest that was never there before. When you spoke of your Yoongi, why did a new determination to prove that he was the better Yoongi appear? 

Yoongi sighed for the nth time. He lifted his head and stared at your window, which was now closed. Were you asleep? Or were you crying? 

“I swear.” Yoongi cursed himself. He subconsciously started walking and now found himself standing before your door. Gently, he knocked but there was no reply. He quietly opened the door to see you asleep. 

“Yoongi...” You called in your sleep. 

“I’m here.” Yoongi whispered. He honestly didn’t know if you were calling him or the other Yoongi but he was going to assume it was him you were calling out to in your sleep. 

“Just let me...” He didn’t know what came over him but soon, Yoongi was in your bed, holding you close to him. 

“What?” Your eyes shot open in shock, ready to kick the intruder in your bed. But looking down, you saw the locks of blonde. His face pressed into your abdomen as he held you tightly. You felt his tears wetting your night robe and the skin beneath. 

“She told me she loved me. But she never came back.” 

“I’m sorry, Yoongi.” You said softly, running your fingers through his locks. Even though Yoongi was slowly letting his guard down around you, this was the first time he let all his walls down. 

“I’ll never hurt you.” Yoongi looked up at you, moving up so your eyes met at the same level. 

“I’ll never hurt you. I promise.” He repeated, cupping your cheek. 

“Please don’t be afraid of me. Please.” He cried. You still didn’t respond but you did wipe his tears, drawing his head to your chest as you comforted him. Now you really saw it. You saw Yoongi as a child that was hurt by the world and just wanted someone to be there for him and tell him that he is loved.

~~

Series Masterlist

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[sankyeom]

tattle-tale | l.sy

pairings: lee sangyeon x reader genre: teacher au, tooth-rotting fluff summary: in which teacher!sangyeon has a crush on teacher!you and anonymously leaves little gifts for you on your desk, only to one day be caught by your entire class word count: 5.9k series: sankyeom’s 2k followers celebration

masterlist

You loved your job, you really did.

Teaching little kids all day long was an absolute joy for you. But if you said recess wasn’t your favourite time of the day, you’d definitely be lying. “Finally,” you groaned as you took a seat on a sofa in the teacher’s lounge, a large cup of coffee in your hand as you closed your eyes.

Sangyeon, Jacob and Hyunjae – three teachers at your school that you considered close friends – shared knowing smiles. “Rough morning?” Jacob asked.

“I love my students,” you said, eyes still closed. “But they can be little devils sometimes.”

Hyunjae burst into laughter as Jacob and Sangyeon grinned. “They can’t be that bad?”

You opened your eyes to observe your colleagues. “It’s Emma’s birthday today. She brought cake for the entire class, and they ate the entire thing within the first ten minutes of first period,” you recalled in a monotone voice.

Jacob winced. “Sugar rush?” he guessed.

“You have no idea,” you complained, having flashbacks to your students running around the classroom and causing absolute chaos. “I would literally kill for some coffee. Or at least maim.”

Hyunjae pointed at your mug. “What do you call that?” he teased.

“Terrible teacher lounge coffee that hasn’t been warm for, like, an hour,” you observed as you took a sip of your coffee. Then, you winced and pushed the mug away from you. “I may be desperate for a good caffeine fix, but I’m not that desperate,” you mumbled as you got up to toss the contents of your mug down the sink.

Sangyeon’s eyes trailed after your retreating figure, a mindless smile on his face as he observed the way you glared at your, now empty, mug in disgust as if it had betrayed you. His gaze drew towards Jacob when his colleague cleared his throat, a knowing look in his and Hyunjae’s eyes as Sangyeon gave them an innocent smile. “Are you ever going to ask her out?” Jacob asked with a lowered voice.

Although he knew he had been caught, Sangyeon still made his attempt at playing innocent. “Ask who out?”

Hyunjae rolled his eyes. “Don’t pretend. You’re a really bad liar and you’re just way too obviously in love with Teacher Y/n,” he said, imitating your students when they call out to you.

Despite his best efforts, Sangyeon couldn’t hide the blush that appeared on his cheeks. As he opened his mouth to protest, you took your seat on the sofa opposite the trio, muttering to yourself about terrible coffee. Noticing the shift in atmosphere, you raised an eyebrow at your colleagues. “Did something happen while I was gone?” you wondered.

“No,” the three men chorused, which only made you more suspicious of them. With a shrug, you dismissed their odd behaviour, deciding that it was best not to pursue your curiosity. “So Y/n, did you ever find out who your secret admirer is?” Hyunjae wondered.

A small pout appeared on your lips. “No,” you sighed, clasping your hands together to rest on your knees.

For a few months now, you had been receiving little gifts on your desk when you stepped out of your classroom for your breaks or free periods. At first, they were just little things that lifted your mood in the middle of the day; sticky notes with funny faces and encouraging quotes, or small gummy and snack packets to give you energy at the end of your long day.

Then, the gifts started becoming a little more personal.

A gift certificate to your favourite coffee chain, packs of stickers or staples that you just so happened to be running out of, muffins from your favourite bakery, and even a beautiful leather-bound journal that you had mentioned you wanted to a few friends and coworkers.

You didn’t know who the gifts were from, but you desperately wanted to meet them.

Not only did they brighten your day every single time you got a new gift, but they seemed to be presents that were specifically purchased for you.

“Has anybody else been getting gifts?” you inquired.

“Not as far as I know,” Jacob denied, Hyunjae and Sangyeon humming in agreement. “Besides, aren’t the gifts all perfect for you?”

You nodded. “Most of them are things that I vaguely mentioned, or silently pined after. Sometimes they’re just little pick-me-ups like snacks, but they still seem to know my taste perfectly.”

Jacob smiled. “That’s kind of romantic,” he mused, causing Sangyeon to choke on the water he had been sipping. He coughed, leaning forward to place his mug down, and covered his mouth as he tried to catch his breath. You, Hyunjae and Jacob gave him looks of concern, which he immediately waved off.

“I’m good,” Sangyeon assured the three of you. “You-“ he coughed. “You think it’s romantic?”

“Of course!” Jacob said cheerily. “Gifts that fit her taste without ever revealing who sent them… A secret admirer. Super romantic,” he assured his friend, sending him a subtle wink when you weren’t looking.

“I just wish I could repay them somehow,” you sighed. “I feel like they make my days easier and I don’t even have a way to thank them.”

“I’m sure they’ll reveal themselves with time,” Hyunjae told you, probably in an attempt to cheer you up. “Maybe they’re just a little shy.”

“Maybe,” you echoed half-heartedly. The bell rung, indicating that recess was over and class would start again in five minutes.

“Coming?” Sangyeon asked, standing up to walk you to your classroom. Your classrooms were in the same corridor, even though Sangyeon taught fourth grade and you taught second.

You shook your head. “My kids have Gym right now, so I have a free,” you said. “I have some grading to do, so I’m just going to hang out here.”

“Not going to hunt for a better cup of coffee?” Sangyeon teased, copying the horrified face you made when you took a sip of the cold teacher’s lounge coffee.

With a laugh, you merely shook your head. “I’m too lazy to leave campus. Plus, I should probably cut down on my caffeine consumption anyway.”

“Right,” Hyunjae nodded. “I’ll remind you of that in three hours when it’s lunchtime and you’re completely worn-out from your seven-year-old students,” he said, saluting you in lieu of a goodbye. You waved to him, Jacob and Sangyeon as they left the lounge, taking out your bag to get to grading your students’ tests.

Since they were only second graders, the grading wasn’t exactly difficult, just time-consuming. By the time the bell rang to indicate Gym class had ended, you had just finished all of their maths tests. After stretching, you made your way over to your classroom so that you could be there before your students changed after Gym class.

Entering your classroom, you could already feel a bit of fatigue kicking in, and you cursed yourself for not getting a cup of coffee after all. Before you could wallow in your regret any further, you noticed the paper take-away cup on your desk. The bright blue sticky note on the cup instantly brought a smile to your face.

Don’t let the little devils wear you down too much. x

You picked the cup up, delighted that the coffee was still warm to the touch and relishing in the taste as you took a sip. “Secret admirer, you must be from heaven,” you muttered, grateful that your secret admirer had gone out of their way to make sure you were properly caffeinated.

“Teacher Y/n!” someone shouted, barreling into your classroom. Several students trailed behind, giving you similar greetings coupled with large beams.

“How was Gym?” you asked, putting your coffee down and listening to your students’ excited stories about who won the dodgeball game that day. “Well while you guys were having fun, I was working very hard to grade your math tests! Do you want to see how you did?”

Their cheers were enough for you to burst into laughter as you took their papers out of your test. “Teacher Y/n,” one of your students, Minho, raised his hand with big eyes.

The sight was absolutely adorable. “Yes, Minho?” you smiled.

“What did your secret Santa give you today?” he asked.

“Secret Santa is for Christmas time,” you corrected. “The person leaving me presents is just a nice friend,” you explained.

“Okay,” Minho nodded, eagerly absorbing your words. “What did your nice friend give you?”

“Something warm to drink,” you explained, pointing in the direction of your take-away cup before handing the seven-year-old his test back. “The teacher’s lounge has coffee but the coffee from my friend is from my favourite store.”

“Do we know your friend?” Sana, a little girl who always wore pigtails and a huge smile, asked.

“I think so,” you mused. “They work here at school.”

“Who is it?” she wondered. “Is it your boyfriend?”

You laughed. “It’s not my boyfriend,” you assured Sana. “I actually don’t know who it is yet. It’s a mystery.”

“Like Sherlock Holmes,” Minho piped up.

“Yes, like Sherlock Holmes,” you agreed.

“We can try and solve the mystery together, then!” the boy decided. “We just need to look at the clues.”

“Alright,” you allowed, having finished handing out the tests. “We can do that after we go over this test. Does anybody have any questions on the test that they didn’t understand?”

“That’s adorable,” Hyunjae laughed as you told him, Sangyeon, and Jacob about your students’ interest in your secret admirer. The four of you were sat outside at one of the picnic tables to enjoy the last few days of sunshine that autumn had to offer you. “Did they come up with anything?”

“They actually did,” you admitted. Sangyeon’s back straightened abruptly, curious about what your students figured out. “They decided that it’s definitely a teacher.”

“Really?” Sangyeon exclaimed, earning a weird look from Jacob and Hyunjae. “What makes them think that?”

“Well, I always get a little post-it note with all of my gifts,” you explained with a laugh. “And who uses post-it notes?”

“Teachers,” your three colleagues chorused.

“That’s pretty decent detective work,” Jacob complimented.

“My class certainly liked to think so,” you allowed, amused. “Anyway, my theory is that the admirer really is a teacher,” you added. “I doubt anyone other than other teachers have heard me talk about my favourite cafe, or which of my stationary is running low. I only ever talk about those kind of things in the teacher’s lounge or when I’m on lunch duty.”

“Sherlock Holmes indeed,” Hyunjae grinned, eyes crinkling at the outer corners. “Any theories on who it is?”

You sighed, shoulder drooping. “None at all,” you confessed. “Makes me feel kind of pathetic.”

“Hey, you’re not pathetic,” Jacob denied, putting his hand on your shoulder. “A little slow? Maybe. But certainly not pathetic,” you laughed, pleased at Jacob’s attempt to make you feel better.

“Teacher Y/n!” you heard Sana’s familiar voice as she ran up to you from the playground, her best friend Emma trailing after her.

“Hi girls,” you greeted. “Are you enjoying your lunch?” the two girls nodded.

“Emma, it’s your birthday today, isn’t it?” Sangyeon recalled from your rant at recess. The girl’s eyes lit up at his question, prompting her to nod her head excitedly.

“I’m turning eight,” she told him proudly.

Sangyeon beamed at her excitement, a fond look in his eyes. “Well I hope you have a wonderful birthday, Emma. You’ll have to tell me what presents you get when you come to school tomorrow,” he asked, which she immediately agreed to.

“I will, Teacher Sangyeon!” she promised.

Suddenly impatient, Sana crossed her arms. “Teacher Y/n, is Teacher Jacob your nice friend?” she wondered, pointing to where Jacob sat across from you.

“He’s a nice teacher friend, but he’s not the one who’s leaving me gifts,” you explained to the two girls. “Why do you ask?”

“We saw him touch your shoulder,” Sana explained. “We thought that meant he was your nice friend.”

“Sadly, you have the wrong guy,” Jacob said with a shrug. “But I’m going to try to help Teacher Y/n to find out who her nice teacher friend is. You guys already did a great job at helping her,” he added. Sana and Emma looked proud at the thought before they said their goodbyes, rushing off to grab the vacant swings before anybody else did.

“They’re so cute,” Hyunjae almost whined. “Why did I decide to teach sixth grade? Those kids aren’t cute anymore, they’re just savage.”

You grinned at the idea of Hyunjae being lightheartedly bullied by his twelve-year-old students. “You adore those kids, don’t lie to me,” you retorted. “And they’re still plenty cute.”

“They’re not that cute in sixth grade,” he denied, pointing in the direction Emma and Sana went. “And they don’t look at me with big, adorable eyes, or cling on to every word I say.”

“That’s just Y/n,” Sangyeon told them, smiling to himself as he dug into lunch. “My students are just two years older, and they don’t do any of those things to me.”

“You’re being modest,” you argued. “Emma looked at you like you told her she was the most special girl in the world when you remembered her birthday.”

“Maybe because it’s her birthday,” Sangyeon allowed, looking up from his food to smile at you. “But they look at you like that every single day. And it’s not just your students, either.”

His compliment made you blush.

The gifts started coming on a daily basis after the day you got a cup of coffee.

Almost every time you had a free period, a fresh cup of coffee would wait for you when you returned to your classroom, and sometimes baked treats from your favourite bakery would accompany it.

You tried staying in your classroom to see who your gift fairy was, but on days you stayed your admirer never came. It was almost as if they knew every move you were making; like they had heard it before or could somehow read your mind.

“Is one of you giving out my plans?” you questioned your colleagues one day.

Hyunjae simply raised an eyebrow at you. “Explain.”

So you did: “I feel like my secret admirer is always a step ahead of me,” you mumbled. “If I ever wait for them, they don’t show up, and if I send students ahead to wait in the classroom, they still don’t show up. I don’t know how they do it.”

“Maybe it’s one of us,” Jacob said, causing Sangyeon to send a small kick to his ankle as a warning. Hyunjae snorted, covering it up by pretending to cough. “Have you ever considered that?”

“I hadn’t, actually,” you realised absent-mindedly. “But if it was one of you guys then you’d just tell me.”

“Sure,” Hyunjae nodded. “Eventually.”

“Right,” you said, as if this was enough evidence to suggest it couldn’t be Hyunjae, Jacob, or Sangyeon. “So I’m back to square one.”

The bell rang, indicating the end of recess, and you stood up to go back to your classroom. “I love art class,” you sighed as you waved your goodbyes to Hyunjae and Jacob, and made your way to your classroom with Sangyeon. “It’s the only time they get to be rowdy and excited and I don’t have to make them calm down.”

Sangyeon laughed. “Sounds nice,” he agreed.

“What do you have next?” you asked.

“I’m free, actually,” Sangyeon said. “I always have a free after recess.”

“How come you’re always rushing off, then?” you wondered, since he had never sat with you in the teacher’s lounge during recess.

“I use it as my lesson-planning time, which I prefer to do in my classroom because I’m always forgetting little things that I need,” he admitted.

“Well you should hang out with me in the lounge some time,” you offered. “It has terrible coffee but I hear I’m pretty good company,” you joke, stopping at your classroom.

“I might take you up on that,” Sangyeon grinned, winking at you before he made his way to his classroom a few doors down.

You cursed yourself for feeling shy at his wink. Sure, Sangyeon was incredibly handsome. But you had enough to worry about with your secret admirer; you didn’t need a schoolgirl crush on one of your closest colleagues to top it all off.

You sighed. “Control yourself, Y/n,” you muttered to yourself, entering your classroom and starting to hand out the worksheets for the period.

You regretted ever saying that you loved art class.

After a sugar-filled recess, your class was more hyper than you had ever seen them and there was nothing that could be done to stop them. You had attempted multiple times to get them to listen to music or talk quietly, even going as far as to threaten them with staying on after lunch time to make up for the time lost during art class. You were about to lose your patience out of pure irritation and frustration when a knock sounded on the door of your classroom.

Sangyeon’s head popped in, a look of mild concern on his face. “Y/n, is everything okay?” he asked.

“Not really,” you admitted, running a hand through your hair in an attempt to curb your oncoming headache. “They won’t calm down. I’ve tried literally everything I can think of.”

“Mind if I give it a try?” he asked, earning an enthusiastic nod and a grateful smile from you. Sangyeon let himself in and stood at the front of the room. “Hi everyone!” he greeted loudly, causing your students to start to quiet down at the sight of a new face. “Thanks for waiting to start art class until I came,” he smiled, as if he was supposed to be there all along. “I’m Teacher Sangyeon from the fourth grade class down the hall.”

“He teaches big kids,” you heard Emma whisper to her desk mate. Cute.

“Teacher Y/n was just telling me how advanced and mature her second graders are. She even thought that I could come and teach them a little bit of fourth grade art since you’re all so far ahead,” Sangyeon complimented.

Gasps rang around the room, and you couldn’t be more grateful to him in that moment. “But you guys were pretty noisy when I came in. I’m not sure if you guys are really mature enough,” he trailed off, a look of concern on his face.

“We are!” Sana exclaimed, shushing her classmates with a stern expression. “We promise we are!”

“Well...” Sangyeon pretended to think for a moment. “If you guys can promise to be calm and good listeners, maybe I can still teach you like I teach fourth grade art. But only if you’re well behaved.”

In that moment, you were almost as entranced by Sangyeon as your students were.

Sangyeon took their silence as a promise and made his way over to your whiteboard, writing down his name and a few bullet points down. Then, he began to talk about being in the fourth grade and how different things would be from the second grade. He spoke with an air of confidence and kindness that made you realise why he became a teacher, and why all of his students loved him so much.

He was patient and informative without being condescending, and he took any questions and comments happily at any given moment. Sangyeon was definitely in his element, and it made him glow with relaxed joy.

You had always thought Sangyeon was attractive, but this was on a different level. He commanded the attention of all of your students and the way he just swooped in, giving up his entire free period to help you, made your heart swell with something akin to admiration. Sangyeon had your students giggling at his cheesy comments, and you found yourself smiling along with them, just as enchanted by him as your students were.

When he was done teaching, your students looked at him in awe and their eyes were dripping with respect and admiration. He dismissed them to lunch with your approval, and you practically leapt onto him when all your students left.

“Woah, what did I do to deserve that?” he wondered, wrapping his arms around you to return your hug nonetheless.

“Saved my class, and myself from a migraine,” you replied, sighing in relief. “Thank you, Sangyeon. Really. I can’t even begin to tell you how much I appreciate this,” you acknowledged, squeezing your eyes shut to relish in the hug. Sangyeon tightened his grip on you and sighed back, butterflies fluttering around his stomach.

Maybe he should just tell you that he’s your secret admirer, he considered.

“Of course, Y/n. You know that I’m always here if you need anything,” he said instead, pulling away from your hug to offer you a genuine smile. He wasn’t ready yet.

“I do,” you agreed with a nod. “And I can help you out anytime as well. Thank you. Let me buy you coffee or something as a proper thank you,” you offered, grabbing your bag without letting him reply.

“Not everyone is as obsessed with caffeine as you are,” Sangyeon retorted, gently nudging you with his hip to tease you.

“Hey, until they start selling it in an IV bag, I’m going to have to get my caffeine the old fashion way. C’mon, coffee shop three blocks away. My treat,” you smiled hopefully, holding up your wallet to jokingly entice him.

Sangyeon broke out into a large smile, eyes shaped like crescent moons. “I would love that,” he agreed, starting to erase his notes on the whiteboard as you clapped.

You watched him. “Your handwriting is beautiful,” you complimented, seeing the letters disappear. “I feel like I’ve seen it before,” you thought aloud, wondering why it looked so familiar.

“Really?” Sangyeon said, eyes wide as he sped up his process of erasing his lettering. “Probably in the yearbook or something.”

“Probably,” you dismissed the thought with a smile. “Now let’s go get our coffee on.”

After Sangyeon saved your art class, and your head from a brutal migraine, he started spending more time with you during your mutual free periods. Usually, you sat in silence in the teacher’s lounge as you did any grading or class prep that needed to be done, but with Sangyeon’s presence, your free periods were much more colourful and laidback.

Sangyeon had a lighthearted way about him; everything he said was assuring kind, and didn’t fail to make your heart flutter. Usually, you only ever spent time with Sangyeon when Jacob and Hyunjae were around, but being alone with Sangyeon was a different situation entirely. You had always known he was handsome and considerate, but he exuded a different kind of energy when he wasn’t surrounded by your friends.

As he sat next to you at one of the tables in the teacher’s lounge before the school day started, you couldn’t help but admire his profile; he was practically flawless. He had a long, slender nose and high cheekbones that made Sangyeon look more angular than soft. His deep brown eyes and pillow-soft lips-

“Y/n?” you snapped out of your trail of thoughts, realising that you had been blatantly staring at your coworker. Sangyeon gave you a concerned look. “You okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine!” you promised, clearing your throat and adjusting your shirt to give your hands something to do. “Sorry. What were you saying?”

The bell chimed, indicating that the school day would begin soon. You and Sangyeon stood up from your chairs and started collecting your papers. “I was just saying that I can’t stay with you during my free, I have some errands to run,” he explained, giving you a wave before he ran off to grab something from his car before class started.

You rose an eyebrow. “I don’t have a free today,” you mumbled to yourself, making your way to your classroom to start your first period class.

Sangyeon grinned, lifting the flower bouquet in his hand to smell the fragrant flowers once more, relishing in their sweet scent. You had told him about a little flower shop nearby that you noticed the other day, but you couldn’t bring yourself to buy yourself flowers because it felt a little embarrassing. Since you had a free today, Sangyeon figured it would be the perfect time to buy you some flowers and give them to you.

Anonymously, of course.

As Sangyeon snuck past the teacher’s lounge, he saw your bag on one of the chairs and quickened his steps so that you wouldn’t spot him as he made his way to your classroom. Checking the hallway, Sangyeon entered your classroom as quietly as he could as to not alert any other classes of his presence.

As carefully as he could, Sangyeon closed the door behind him and let out a relieved sigh when it silently shut. Smiling, he turned around to put the flowers on your desk.

Only to be met with the little faces of your entire class.

Sangyeon’s mouth fell open in shock, his eyes widening simultaneously as he realised the situation.

“Teacher Sangyeon,” Emma exclaimed, waving excitedly at him. “What are you doing here?”

“Um, hi class,” Sangyeon greeted awkwardly, making his way towards your desk. “I’m just leaving Teacher Y/n a little surprise, that’s all.”

Minho gasped. “You’re her nice friend that’s leaving her presents!” he realised, pointing his little finger at Sangyeon.

Knowing he was caught, Sangyeon nodded, hurriedly pulling a blue post-it note from his shirt pocket and writing you a little message to go with your flowers. “Yes, I am. But I would really like it if you guys could keep it a secret between us?” he pleaded. “Since I know you guys are so mature and clever.”

He knew that appealing to seven-year-olds’ will to be grown up was a low blow, but he didn’t have much time before you would return to your class.

“Of course,” Sana nodded her head. “We’ll keep your secret. Teacher Y/n is looking for her bag, she’ll be back any minute now!”

Sangyeon thanked her for her warning, giving your students a little wave before he darted out of the classroom and rushed to his own.

That was close. And he was probably screwed.

“Okay class, thank you so much for being patient,” you exclaimed, entering your classroom with your bag. “I’m sorry I left you guys to grab my bag but I’m so proud of you all being so mature and understanding,” you buttered up your students, feeling guilty for running around school like a mad person trying to find your bag.

“Teacher Y/n!” Minho raised his hand as far in the air as he could. “We know who your nice friend is!”

You froze in place from where you were writing on the whiteboard, knowing exactly who he was talking about. “You do?” you echoed.

“Hey,” Sana cried out. “We’re not supposed to tell!”

That’s interesting. You knew that if whoever your secret admirer was had convinced your class to keep their identity a secret, it meant that your class trusted and respected them.

“I don’t care,” Minho retorted, crossing his arms. “We’re supposed to be Sherlock Holmes and help Teacher Y/n, remember?”

You smiled; those kids were truly too cute.

“Oh,” Sana seemed to be struggling with making up her mind. “Well, I suppose you’re right. We did promise Teacher Y/n first.”

“Was my nice friend here?” you asked, spotting the bouquet of flowers on your desk, accompanied by the usual blue post-it note you received with all your gifts.

“He was,” Minho nodded. “Teacher Sangyeon came while we were waiting for you and he brought your flowers.”

Something fluttered in your stomach, excitement at the revelation of your secret admirer making your heart pound just slightly faster. “He did?” you said, so quietly it was almost a whisper.

“And he wrote you a note with a blue post-it!” Emma added. “We were right! Your nice friend is a teacher.”

You smiled, picturing Sangyeon trying to convince your students to keep his secret. He must have snuck in because he thought I had a free period, you realised. “Well, you guys are very good detectives,” you complimented. “Just like Sherlock Holmes.”

When you dismissed your students for lunch, you couldn’t help but sit at your desk as they all filed out to admire the flowers. It was a beautiful mixture of white roses, pink peonies, and beautiful green and purple wildflowers. The post-it note must have been more rushed than usual, because it had a simple message that said he hoped you liked the flowers instead of their usual buttery, warm message of encouragement.

No wonder Sangyeon’s handwriting looked so familiar, you thought as you traced the letters on the post-it note with your pointer finger. The loops of his lettering perfectly replicated those that were written on the whiteboard when he helped you with your art class a few weeks ago.

After assigning your students their work for the last class, you couldn’t help your mind from wandering to Sangyeon, and how you should confront him about being your secret admirer. Making up your mind, you got up from your chair and plucked the flowers and post-it note from your desk before exiting your classroom and walking down the hall.

Knocking on the door of Sangyeon’s classroom, you waited patiently for him to greet you at the door. “Y/n,” his eyes lit up when he recognised that it was you. “Come in, you don’t need to knock,” Sangyeon ushered you in, opening to door for you.

“Thanks,” you smiled, stepping inside. “So, I got another gift from my admirer,” you told him, holding up the flowers. “If I can even call them an admirer.”

“Why shouldn’t they admire you,” Sangyeon said with a small shrug, moving to wipe his whiteboard.

“Say,” you began, holding up the post-it note. “This looks a lot like your handwriting.”

Sangyeon dropped the whiteboard eraser with a loud clatter, cursing quietly before apologising for the noise and going to pick it up. “Oh, um, really?” he wondered, panic rising in his chest.

“Really,” you confirmed, making your way next to him and holding up the post-it for you both to compare to the white board. “See? Your lettering is super similar,” you said, as if you didn’t already know that Sangyeon was your secret admirer.

“Huh,” Sangyeon hummed. “Weird.”

“Isn’t it?” you agreed, smiling. “These flowers are beautiful though, aren’t they?”

Feeling nervous, Sangyeon only gave you a weak smile. “As long as you think so…”

“They’re from that little flower shop I was telling you about the other day,” you told him, recognising the name of the shop on the ribbon that held the bouquet together. “Isn’t that ironic? That they got the flowers from there.”

“Well it’s only a few blocks away so I’m sure other people know about it,” Sangyeon retorted, pretending to go through the papers on his desk to act as if his heart wasn’t beating at the sound of a tuba.

“I also got coffee from my favourite cafe, pastries from my favourite bakery, and any piece of stationary that I complained to you about being low on,” you listed off the different gifts you had received.

Sangyeon opened his mouth to retort, but when he lifted his head to meet your eyes, he knew immediately that he had been caught. “You know, don’t you?” Sangyeon mumbled, red flushing the tips of his cheeks and ears.

“Minho ratted you out,” you confessed, not wanting to take credit for figuring it out.

Sangyeon laughed. “Tattle-tale,” he muttered, eyes gleaming with mischief. “So you were just having fun, teasing me as if you were figuring it all out right in front of me?”

“Hey,” you exclaimed. “I figured the handwriting thing out on my own.”

“Really?”

“No. I just connected the dots after Minho told on you,” you admit, shrugging your shoulders. Sangyeon chuckled, picturing your class telling on him as you lean back against his desk. “I’m glad it’s you,” you revealed, making Sangyeon smile shyly at you.

“How come?” he wondered.

“Well, you’re pretty cute,” you teased, earning an eye-roll from Sangyeon. “And you’re just… I don’t know. You’re really special. The way you interact with your students and how you never fail to give up your free time to help me, or keep me company…” you trailed off, noticing how a more serious expression fell across Sangyeon’s face. “Why didn’t you tell me that it’s you?”

“I didn’t know if you wanted it to be me,” Sangyeon said, tucking his hands into his pant pockets. “You’re one of the most loved teachers at this school, by the students and the faculty. You’re funny, and kind, and beautiful, and I thought you were out of reach.”

“I’m not out of reach,” you shook your head, moving closer to the brunet man. “Not at all.”

“And you’re really happy that it’s me?” he wondered.

“Hm,” you pretended to think. “Let me get back to you on that one,” you teased. “Yes Sangyeon, I’m really happy that it’s you.” Sangyeon beamed, pleased with your response. “That’s your cue.”

“My cue?” he asked.

“Yes, your cue,” you emphasised, trailing your hands up his chest to play with his tie. An understanding look filled his eyes and Sangyeon leant down to kiss you, closing his eyes as you felt each other’s breath against your faces.

The door to Sangyeon’s classroom opened noisily.

“Yo, we were just-“ Hyunjae’s shriek cut off Jacob’s words as the pair realised the position that you and Sangyeon were in.

“Guys, you can’t do that during school hours!” Hyunjae exclaimed, looking scandalised. “Jacob, I’ll cover your eyes and you cover mine,” he said dramatically, causing the two of them to flail about in an attempt to cover each other’s eyes with their hands.

You rolled your eyes, releasing Sangyeon’s tie and leaning back with a sigh. Sangyeon gave you a sheepish smile but cast your friends an exasperated look. “You guys are lame,” you accused.

Jacob laughed, releasing Hyunjae. “So you finally figured it out?”

“I wish. Some little tattle-tales told me all about it after catching him,” you motion to Sangyeon.

Hyunjae cackled. “Genius. C’mon, let’s get lunch. I’m starving,” he moved on quickly, uninterested in your new relationship with Sangyeon. “No kissing on school grounds, either. Let’s go,” he cheered, marching out with Jacob in tow.

You laughed, always amused by your coworkers and friends. “Let’s get lunch,” you agreed with Hyunjae, sending Sangyeon a smile.

As you moved away, Sangyeon caught your arm and gently pulled you back. “School hours are over in two periods,” he reminded you with a cheeky smile.

“Dinner?” you offered, earning a nod.

“I’d be crazy not to go,” Sangyeon exaggerated. “You’re paying, though. I’ve bought you enough food and drinks to last at least a few dinner dates,” he winked.

Laughing, you nodded, pulling him out of his classroom by his hand. “It’s a deal.”

note: the first fic in my 2k followers celebration event is up!! i’m so excited to see what you guys think about it, please let me know and thank you again for 2,000 followers 💛🌻

#the boyz #the boyz imagines #sangyeon #sangyeon imagines #sangyeon x reader #the boyz x reader #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fanfic #deobiwritersnet #tbznetwork #lee sangyeon #the boyz fic #the boyz fluff #the boyz au #the boyz drabbles #fic: tattle-tale #2k celebration

[sagemusesoutloud]

Anti-Romantic, Part 1

(credit to the original owner of the image)

Character | Jaehyun x reader Genre | nonidol!au, Mutual Pining, Slowburn, Fluff WordCount | 3.6 K Author'sNote | lmaoooo the fact that I intended this to be a oneshot type of thing oops. Wellllll, I tried. Most likely to be a two part series, but we'll see.

This is part of a series I intend to call "If Songs were Fics" and this particular one was loosely inspired by TXT's Anti-Romantic bc I'm obsessed. I hope you enjoy reading as much I enjoyed writing it!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

I don't know who loves me

And I don't care, It's a waste anyways

A romantic feeling, Kinda scares me

“Any plans for you birthday next week?”

Jaehyun shakes his head at you, “no, not yet, don’t you have that date with that barista?”

“I’m not sure, he’s been acting weird over text lately. Might not be worth it,” you shrug your shoulders. “Besides, it’s your birthday! You only get one of those a year, we should plan something.”

You were on your way to the gym, a ritual you and Jaehyun had ever since you both found out you worked for the same company. You had been childhood friends, but ended up losing touch since you went to separate universities.

It was a nice surprise to see a friendly face on the first day of orientation and throughout the duration of your training for the next six weeks. Although you were both from different departments, you enjoyed taking your lunch breaks together and sharing small gossip about your old class-mates.

“ugh, don’t remind me,” he let’s out a long sigh, “every year, it seems like my family won’t stop pestering me about starting a family.”

“What’s so wrong about that?”

“Nothing, just not for me. Or at least not yet. I don’t think I’m the type to settle down,” he shrugs again as if it were no big deal.

You gasp, “how could you say that? I’ve seen your insta account. It’s got your cousin’s kids all over it!” You stop to take a good look at him as he holds the door of the gym open for you. “Back in school too, you used to tutor those elementary kids for volunteering hours. Even when you didn’t need them. You’ve always liked kids.”

“That’s different…”

“Right. Totally different things. Got it,” you roll your eyes. This wasn’t the first time he mentioned not wanting to settle down. At first, you had thought it was because he liked ‘keeping his options open’ like back in high-school. Or, not that you knew for sure, but if the rumors were true then it meant he slept his way around. Apparently, he never slept with someone twice and despite the cold shoulder the other party would get, all you had ever heard were praises. Not that you paid that much attention or anything.

You and Jaehyun had the same circle of friends, but despite that, he had never made any advances towards you. You’d be lying if that didn’t bother you at least once or twice. You just assumed that he didn’t want to make the friendship awkward or mess with the friend dynamics of your group. Which was why your crush on him in junior high ended as soon as you got to high-school.

You ended up going on dates with other people, but nothing that kept your interest. Nothing that compared to how you felt around him. Not that he seemed to think the same, so you tried your best to stay the good friend you always have been. You didn’t want to push something he clearly didn’t want; not that it didn’t hurt any less. Throughout the years it’s become bearable, at least. Almost like a painful habit.

You check in and head to the locker rooms to change. His nonchalance about the subject had always puzzled you. You’d seen first hand how all the female coworkers seemed to sway their hips as they walked by him, how some would pop a blouse button more than usual when around him, and you swore no one else was getting that much help throughout training more than him. He was handsome and a gentleman, that much was painfully obvious.

You meet him outside by the water fountain, “ready for warm-up?” he guides your way to the treadmills.

“When’s the last time you dated?”

You would have laughed if you weren’t so shocked to see him trip from the corner of your eye. “why the sudden curiosity?” He finally responds.

“Not sudden, I’d always wondered.” You defended. “You’re good looking and you’re very…I mean, you live on your own and have your own car. You have good relations with your family AND you’re good with kids. So, what is it?” You hadn’t realized how troubling you thought it all was. But now that you started digging you couldn’t stop.

“I just—” you pause, “it doesn’t make sense.”

You hear him chuckle, “you might wanna slow down before you pull something.” You look down and realize that your pace had gone from a relaxed jog to a borderline run during your rant. Maybe this wasn’t the best time to psychoanalyze your only friend in the city.

“Well, I just don’t know how to let people in. It’s just that.” He finally responds. “I love kids, but I don’t know or think I’d be a good partner.” He slows down before stopping, ending the conversation. He waves you off with an easy smile as you stay running.

Huh, maybe you pushed him too far. Your eyes can’t help but follow him around the gym.

Sweet and bitter chocolate, The taste at the end is always the same

Like the saddest movies, Only tears in my eyes

Your hands were sweaty the entire morning, anticipating your lunch time. It was his birthday today, and while you hadn’t made any concrete plans you ended up agreeing to go over to his place after work. Your gym bag was ready with snacks and comfy clothes to stay over. You remembered him saying he was excited to watch that new Marvel movie that had recently come out so you had bought it online to stream it at his place as a surprise. But what had you nervous was the small heart shaped box sitting in your purse. You didn’t know what possessed you to buy it but you had immediately thought of Jae when you passed by it at the mall. You remember vaguely mentioning that it was a special occasion to the sales lady (as in, his birthday), but she must have thought it was your significant other rather than friend because she changed the box to the red velvet shaped one while giving you a wink. In her defense, you could have protested but…why didn’t you?

You hear a knock on your door, “hey little miss sunshine.” Ah, Nakamoto, this couldn’t be good news. He was only sickly sweet to you when he needed a favor.

“What do you want?” you deadpan. He only laughs as he makes himself comfortable in your office. “Well, nothing in particular. Can’t stop by and see how you’re doing?” he feigns hurt.

“Right—the last time you ‘came by’ you left me working over-time through the weekend,” You sigh, “so what is it this time? Missed meeting? Late proposal?” To be fair, your supervisor WAS overworked sometimes. And since you were the only worker under him, it was normal for him to sometimes share some of the load with you.

He smiles at you, “nope. Just have a proposal for you. I know you’ve been working hard these past few months and I’ve been really impressed by your work ethic.” He stands and moves closer to your desk, “And I thought some sort of reward was in order, as well as celebration.” Ok, now you’re confused. You were ok with the reward part, it usually came in the form of a gift card to your favorite coffee shop, but celebration?

“Why would we celebrate? Did I miss something?”

“Not yet, but I did recommend you to the partner position with me. And I wanted to be the first to tell you that the boss approved it earlier today. So, what do ya say? Dinner on me?” he extends his hand out to you and wiggles his eyebrows playfully.

Oh.

Shit! You were hoping this would happen eventually, moving up from the entry-level position you had. But you had never thought it would be this fast. “Oh my gosh, are you serious?” You give him your hand and he shakes it in mock salute.

“Of course, some people will come by to move your computer to the office next to mine. You start Monday!” he winks, “So, wanna go to that new rooftop restaurant? This is a once in a life-time ticket, so you best say yes.”

But your dinner with Jae…He’ll understand, right? He has to. It’s not like he seemed that excited about it anyway. And you could always spend the day together tomorrow, too. It would be pretty rude to turn down Yuta after he pulled some strings for you…

You smile at him, “Thank you Mr. Nakamoto, I won’t let you down as a partner. Yeah, dinner sounds great. Wanna meet there?”

You sit down on the small table, now nervous for other reasons.

Jae sits opposite of you, a small smile on his face. “Hey you,” he greets.

“hey…” you start, “I hate to change plans so suddenly, but…” crap, you feel really shitty. But you really were between a rock and a hard place.

“everything ok?”

“yeah, no. I actually just got promoted,” you start.

“You did? That’s awesome! So fast, too. Wow—but shouldn’t you be more enthusiastic about it?” he chuckles.

“I am, just—my old supervisor wanted to go to dinner to celebrate. And I don’t think I could say no after helping me out like that.”

“I mean, did you want to skip it or?” Now he’s confused.

“Well, he wanted to go out tonight since I start Monday and today’s Friday…I don’t think I can come over tonight,” you explain.

Realization crosses his features before he gives a small smile. “Don’t worry about it, you’re fine. And he’s treating you! You don’t know when the next time he offers might be,” he continues, “we can celebrate another day anyway.”

“Are you sure?” now you feel like shit.

“Of course I’m sure.”

For the rest of the lunch, a thick silence settles before he excuses himself back to work.

Jaehyun knew this was coming. Nothing ever went his way; it’s why he kept everyone at a distance from his heart. But he was weak when it came to you. This game of push and pull was bound to keep happening, and it only brought him that all familiar foul taste in his mouth.

I know, that sweet love song, Those words of promise

When you turn around, It's just an unfamiliar someone

It was why he decided to go else-where for university, instead of joining you and some of your friends to the one closest to home. He chose to go across the globe—far, far away from the curse of you.

It had started on a windy day, back when you were 4 and new to the town he grew up in. Jaehyun didn’t want to leave his mother’s arms, he didn’t like the thought of being with strangers until later in the day even if his mom promised that she would be back. A little girl with jean overalls like his came up to him and his mom, “why are you crying?”

“I am not!” he sniffed. He didn’t need to make new friends like his mom was trying to tell him. All he needed was to go back home. You took out something from your pocket and showed it to him, “look, my mom said I could give one to my first friend. She said it was sharing. Want one?”

In her little palm, were two kiss chocolates. “You’re not my friend,” he grumbled, “I don’t know your name.” At that, you giggled, “I’m Y/N!” you took his hand and placed a chocolate there, “there, now we’re officially friends.”

“See, Jae? You can spend some time with Y/N and have fun. Before you know it, I’ll be back,” she promised.

“Yeah, Jae! Come play blocks with me, and then we can try the coloring.” You held his hand as you led him deeper into the classroom. Just like that, Jae began to feel a little warmth in his chest. He didn’t mind that his favorite thing to do was play tag outside or that he wasn’t really good at coloring inside lines yet. But that didn’t matter to him. As long as he had this one friend around, he was content.

Sorry I'm an anti-romantic, I want to run far away

My heart that already chases after you, Blazes up as a small flame

Looking back at it now, it was a little funny. All it took to let you in back then was a simple chocolate kiss and your little sticky hand in his leading the way. You were always larger than life to him, sometimes he forgot that you were just as human as him.

As you two continued to grow, nothing seemed to change your friendship. But he knew that the depth of his feelings wasn’t mutual. It was in the way that you brought a lot different people together and decided to call it your family. Another of your friends, Jungwoo, liked to joke that you collected introverts for fun. To Jaehyun, it was more likely that you just didn’t see the fun in leaving people out. You were charming and passionate. Traits he wished he had. Your empathetic nature and gentle disposition were all that Jaehyun needed, even if he wasn’t the only recipient.

Once you guys started to hit puberty, things started to feel rocky. Jaehyun couldn’t help but physically distance himself from you, his ears were always red-hot. You had always been pretty to Jaehyun, but you were starting to become really beautiful. And if the boy’s locker rooms’ talk were anything to go by, then other people were definitely starting to realize “what a great catch” you were.

It really pissed him off. Who were they to say things as if all you were was a piece of meat? It disgusted him. But what disgusted him more was the fact that sometimes, he couldn’t help but also feel the way your body felt in his when you hugged in greeting. He hated the way his body reacted to everything you did.

He first messed around with a senior girl back when he was a sophomore, Sooyoung. She was leaving and he couldn’t take it anymore. Your boyfriend was a piece of trash and he was tired of hearing the way he would share what Jae considered to be intimate moments that had no business being public. But you seemed so happy… that next game, Jae stole the ball from him and scored on his own. Even if it cost him a three hour lecture from the coach, he would do it again. Fuck being a team, that guy was an asshole.

What he hadn’t planned on was liking messing around. He would never admit it, but the reason he couldn’t commit was because he couldn’t get rid of that small grain of hope that glowed in his chest every time you stared at him longer than would be deemed normal. It wasn’t often, but he knew he wasn’t seeing things. So, he succumbed to the cycle of push-and-pull that you guys had going on.

Jaehyun wasn’t blind, he knew that your work definitely spoke of your professionalism, but he’s also seen the way Nakamoto stared after you. Of the way his hand would often touch your waist when walking together. Even now, as he hears you apologize through the phone again as you get ready for your “date” with him he can’t help this heart feel heavy with anger. Anger at himself, for letting you slip away once more. He usually hopes for nothing but the best for you, but this time, he wishes you had an awful dinner.

Sorry I'm an anti-romantic, I don't believe in romance

I'm afraid that after burning my whole heart, It will only leave behind ashes

Throughout the entire dinner, you can’t seem to get Jae out of your mind. It keeps you from enjoying the delicious food, keeps you from keeping your usual banter with Nakamoto.

You’re about to call it a night and thank Nakamoto for inviting you out when he beats you to it, “damn, I was hoping this might be a good break from the usual overtime we do, but something tells me your mind has been elsewhere,” he offers good naturedly, “I know it’s valentine’s, so maybe this is why we feel so awkward, right?”.

You grimace a bit at that, “ah—I’m sorry. I really am grateful for the way you look after me in the company and I’m also thankful for this lovely dinner,” you stop a bit, afraid you might offend him, “I agreed to come out tonight, so no need to feel awkward.” You offer a smile.

“Alright then. I guess you already have your sights on someone?” he prods. Should you be honest? There was no rule against dating outside your department, and you were pretty sure your new boss’s wife also worked within the company. “…I do. But I’m pretty sure they don’t feel the same way. It’s been so long since we’ve known each other. Surely if something were to have happened, it would have by now.” You were loosening up, definitely the wine’s fault.

Nakamoto sighs at that, “damn, and here I thought I could woo you after this,” he winks jokingly but you laugh him off. You knew he didn’t care for you that way. “I really hope you’re talking about the guy you always eat lunch with. I swear everyone thought you guys were married when you were released from training.”

“What?! No, I—we’ve been friends since we were children—”

“Aha! So it was him then,” he smirks. “Good.”

You groan, “Please, no.”

“What, it’s not him? You sure about that?”

“I will neither confirm nor deny that statement,” you groan. Why were you discussing your love life? You push the wine away and take a sip of your water.

“Hmm. That’s too bad. Could have sworn that guy was after you.” He stands up. “But fine, I’ll stop prodding.”

You sigh in relief—“for now.” You groan. “What do you even mean by that? You don’t even know him. Or me, or at least personally at least.”

“Mmm, I don’t have to. Some things you just know. Like how he wishes I was six feet under every time we run across him at work,” he sobers up at that. “He seemed like a cool dude, but his glare isn’t too friendly. I don’t know how you fell for that.”

You scoff, “just because someone has a resting bitch face doesn’t mean they’re a bad person.”

You both make your way to the underground parking. “You’re right, it just makes them unapproachable. Is that why you won’t confess?” His genuine tone rubs you the wrong way, you don’t need be given false hope.

“Stop it, you said you would drop it,” you frown, “Anyways, thank you for the food boss—”

“—not your boss anymore. Just call me Yuta, we’re partners now.”

“Aren’t you two years older than me?”

“And?”

You shrug at that, “well, thanks Yuta. For the food, not for the interrogation.” He chuckles at that, nodding while pulling out his car keys. “see you Monday!” he waves you off.

You sigh as you get home. It wasn’t as late as you thought it was, only a few minutes past nine. You really wanted to see him. Would he be busy?

You fish out your phone and dial his number before chickening out.

“Hello?”

“Jae! It’s me. Are you busy right now?” your heartbeat is pounding so loud, you’re scared he could hear it on the other end. “Right now?” you hear shuffling on the other end, “no, I was just reading that book Jungwoo sent me. Might have dozed off a bit into it but don’t tell him I said that,” he chuckles.

“Why, is everything ok? It’s still early, did you end dinner that fast?”

“Oh, Yuta and I called it a night pretty early. Too many couples were out and about and it got a bit awkward,” you explained.

“Yuta?”

“Ah, yes. Yuta Nakamoto, but now that we’re associates, he said it would be better to address him less formally.” You waive him off, “actually, I was wondering—if it’s not too late, can I still come over? If not, that’s cool. We can still hang out tomorrow, but your birthday is today and I thought—”

He laughs at your rambles, “of course you can come over, you know you don’t have to ask. How many times have I told you that?”

“Ok, ok. Just checking,” you still had your comfy change of clothes in your car, so you opt to save those for tomorrow and change into something causal for tonight.

“Do you want me to go get you? We can get ice cream on the way, hopefully they don’t close early.”

“Sounds like a plan then,” curse your heart for melting at everything he says.

“Alright, give me 15 and I’ll be there.” He hangs up.

You look at your bag, resting on your sofa and you sigh. The entire night, it’s almost as if you could feel the weight of his gift weighing it down. Yuta is known for being very observant, it’s why he was so good at his job. Closing deals and making contracts in advertisement. Would he be right about this? You know you desperately wish he was, but is it worth risking your best friend?

EndNote | Woooow, that was a longass ride. Let me know if you liked it or if there are other typos I missed! Or just to let me know what you thought, that would be much appreciated. I'm thinking of finishing it by Sunday 6/13, so hopefully the next part is up by then. Until then!

Here's Part 2!

#anti romantic #jaehyun fic #jaehyun fluff #nct #nct 127 #kpopfanfic #nct x reader #jaehyun x reader #nct fluff #nct jaehyun #jaehyun scenarios #kpop fluff #nct u #nct 2020 #nct imagines #nct 127 jaehyun #office au #fic #stream #txt #anti-romantic!! #hopefully it's out of my head soon #catchy

[neovisioned]

♡ꜜ bed of spider webs﹫mark lee

this is part of “the spiderverse project” series !  friends - chase atlantic (nostalgia)

pairing: mark x reader (f) ft. johnny and jaehyun.

genre: angst, fluff, smut with too much plot, spiderman!mark, college!au, enemies to friends to lovers.

warnings: violence, mention of blood, language, stupid decisions, mention of drugs (johnny smokes weed in like one scene), spider bite, one short scene of attempted robbery, one short fight scene, trespassing, unprotected sex (be safe everyone), dirty talk, choking, fingering, oral, uses of spider webs during the sex scene, some praising and degradation, i think that’s it ? 

word count: 26k, this is the longest thing i’ve ever written. 

synopsis: where you hate Mark Lee because he’s everyone’s favourite, to both students and teachers. if there’s a number one, there’s a number two, and that’s you. however, after a strange event in a lab, his grades crush down, leaving the number one spot vacant for your very eyes, but as everyone’s favourite looks more and more miserable, you can’t help but worry about him, not knowing that he became the famous friendly neighbourhood superhero that saved you that one night.

a/n: this doesn’t take place in any particular city, don’t worry webs aren’t used for anything that kinky. also, this took so fucking long to write.

Miss Park likes to think that despite her age, she has a great memory. She finds pride in remembering most - if not all - of her student’s names, with a vague memory of their baby faces, if they were lucky enough. The now old lady also liked to think that she was a nice and soft kindergarten teacher, treating every student the same way, giving them the same amount of attention. 

After all, her class was the first of many other classes and grades, and she wanted it to be a great first experience for everyone. Retired, and only possessing pictures to refresh her memory from time to time, if there’s one student the wrinkly old lady was still fond of, no matter how many years after he had left her school, it was the only Mark Lee.

In her rocking chair, she didn’t even need a picture to remember dark locks, small bangs above his soft eyes, she didn’t need anyone to remember her first meeting with the now successful college student. The lady sometimes likes to tell stories from her working days and her favourite students always have an appearance in those stories. Those stories where her eyes become bright with what looks like small tears and adoration.

See, almost sixteen years ago, the teacher was doing her job pretty well. She had the experience, knew every solution to every problem, she was one of the oldest and most respected teachers of the area, really, she was at the pick of her career. She was working in a small and one of the only kindergartens of the city, a small, one floored building in a calm area, near a public parc.

After so many years giving her energy to prepare young kids to the world, she had seen a lot. From kids saying weird things they heard once, other kids drawing almost creepy imageries, to talented and well-behaved students, she saw it all. 

Most importantly, she saw a lot of what she calls “First Days”. First days of school where the mother leaves her child for the first time. She saw kids crying for their parents while they hesitated to walk back and leave, she saw kids waving to their parents with a smile while they were the one crying, she saw the loud and unstoppable crying of a child that doesn’t want to be here.

These days are all unforgettable and unique in their own way, but really, she would never forget Mark Lee’s first day. 

Winter had started pretty early, that September of two thousand and two, it was cold like it was the high of winter, just after all the new year celebrations. Every kid was more or less wrapped in a large coat, every time accessories with a matching beanie and scarf, even gloves sometimes. 

She remembers greeting every kid like always, offering her best smile for the best first impression, reassuring worried parents and comforting new kids. The teacher also remembers thinking that every kid had been a bit reluctant to leave their parent but none crying yet. And there he had arrived, three years old Mark Lee, looking like a miniature businessman.

To do such a job, you had to be fond of kids, but - oh, how Miss Park felt herself melt in front of the smiley, small boy. The long black coat he was wearing matched with his father’s who was readjusting his son’s backpack with an equally fond smile, giving him a few last bits of advice. The back pack was something colourful, she remembers, a blue off-brand backpack with cars on them, she could tell he was from a middle-class family, like almost every kid. She watched from afar as Mark Lee’s father went down, a knee on the floor, carefully taking a camera out of his pocket. Without complaining, small Mark Lee took place near the door, letting the teacher detail him a little bit more, giving his father his best smile as the flash went on.

That was her first memory of Mark Lee. This, alongside, his everlasting smile as he entered her class, dark, short locks bouncing at his every step he took with his brand-new white sneakers he promised his dad not to ruin, and the small wave he gave before the men left, giving both a smile to his son and his son’s new teacher, his footsteps echoing on the faux marble floor on the school.

One thing that Miss Park really liked about Mark Lee, was how helpful he was, and she saw it the first day.

Things are never calm and peaceful in a kindergarten class, especially when it’s the first day. So the lady wasn’t so shocked when she heard cries before she even saw the child making them. Echoing in the corridor, the teacher could distinguish a mother’s voice, trying to encourage her child, but never did the cries stopped. 

As they got closer to her class, Miss Park gave one last look to the room. Kids were already playing at different spots, most of them were curious about the big dollhouse and the car carpet, no one was biting anyone, she could give the last child her full attention.

A look out of the door, and she immediately saw the woman in distress trying to stop her child from making a scene, rubbing her back, bouncing her body lightly, up and down. But nothing made it better, if anything, as soon as the young girl saw the outline of the class and all those kids she didn’t know, her cries were even louder. Mother greeted the teacher like she could, with an apologetic smile, teacher’s bright and reassuring smile never faded. 

Miss Park doesn’t remember everything perfectly but soon enough, the crying child was in her arms as she gestured to the mother to go and leave quickly. She remembers the messy hair, she could see the attempt at a braid, the wrinkled shirt and most importantly, the big and sparkly, innocent eyes the girl had, alongside the crocodile tears rolling down her chubby cheeks.

Miss Park probably made an attempt to calm the child down, as she usually does, but what she remembers is the slight tug of her dress she felt. Delicate, a small head fisting the fabric of her flower dress as she looked down to a Mark Lee that had just finished taking off his coat and shoes. 

She remembers kneeling, the small girl’s face that was hiding in her neck looking at who was bothering her comfort session but never did Mark erase his small smile, his hand handing something to the teacher. Cooing, the lady took what he was giving her, a tissue he took from his backpack, sitting just below the coat. “See, Y/N. Mark is nice, he gave you a tissue.”

Perhaps. Perhaps Mark was, or is, nice. But that doesn’t change how much you hate him, since day one. Maybe you were one of Miss Park’s favourite student, but Mark was the favourite student. See, years pass, people change, life goes by, but never did Mark stopped being the number one, leaving you the bitter second place.

He had always been every student’s favourite, boys and girls. He was good at sports, but definitely the best at dancing. He was one of the first kids chosen to be part of any team for any sport ever, people would actually fight to get the two of you in their team and somehow, after years, they knew that putting you two against each other would make a great fight for the win. 

They said the dance club didn’t have a leader but he was the main men, you didn’t join the club but word has it that if you walked by the dance room when class ended, you would hear one pair of foot rhythmically tapping the floor, him and only him practised that hard. It was also said that everyone in the club would turn to him to seek advice and approval.

Imagine your shock when Mark Lee was seen on TV for some dancing competition, thankfully you don’t have a lot of memories of that time but one thing was sure. The next day, as the boy walked down the grey hallways, everyone had eyes for him and only him.

He was nice and helped everyone, he had good grades and still, somehow, was seen like a cool kid to hang out with, most people wanted to be his friend. Even though, with all the teenager movies you’ve seen, good grades and popularity aren’t compatible. You really didn’t know how he did it, but since junior high school, where the sense of competition started growing within you, you’ve had the theory that perhaps, he sold his soul to the devil for both good grades and popularity.

He even was every teacher’s favourite, always the one who could go out for the cool tasks, always the one in charge, always the one praised.

Alright, maybe you were exaggerating. You had a few great tasks too, but you still lived in Mark Lee’s shadow, or at least, you thought so. No matter what you did, he was still a bit better than you, and it was driving you insane. You could complain about him to your friends, to your family, even. Mark Lee was a name that left your mouth with venom and disgust. So obviously, when high school arrived, everyone knew you two were mortal nemesis.

Puberty took a bit of time to do its job on you, only hitting you towards the very end of high school, but it definitely didn’t forget about Mark. That’s another thing your then materialistic young mind hated about him, he had the grades, he even had the looks. Now that you think about it, it’s like he never even had an ugly period, and if somebody asked you, that was just unfair, the universe hated you.

When puberty was doing its job on Mark Lee, making him taller, his features sharp but somehow still holding pieces of his baby face, he was one of the most popular in high school, while you preferred staying out of drama and whatever popular kids do.

However, it was hard to stay completely out of drama when Mark Lee found extremely funny to remind you that he was better than you, sometimes turning around in the middle of class to show you his grade, other times going as far as waiting for you near your locker. His once innocent and kind smile had turned into an everlasting superior smirk, the one that said, I am better than you, we both know it, everyone knows it. Your competition was in the public eye.

God knows you tried to outrun him in at least one discipline. You tried dancing, even if you were good at it, he was still better, with a lot more practice. You tried getting popular, which was a lost cause before you ever tried, Mark practically ruled the school. You tried getting better grades than him, but he was always, always, one small point ahead of you.

Most of the time, unknowing teachers would be amazed by the two of you, at how you two always seemed to be the top two students, always one tiny step apart. Sometimes, they would even ask for the two of you to do a project together, to which you would always firmly and strongly disagree too, while Mark had the same smirk on his face.

However, one year, you found it. His weakness. And really, you should’ve thought about it way before. You’ve always been better than him at drawing, since kindergarten. He was so bad at art that he couldn’t colour inside the lines, he couldn’t draw one decent looking circle, he couldn’t understand the underlying meaning of a piece of art.

And finally, you found something you were better at, something he couldn’t do as perfectly as you did. Art classes quickly became your favourite classes and the original intent of outrunning him strangely faded to actual interest in every type of art.

You would never, ever admit it, but in a way, it’s because, and thanks to Mark Lee that you found your way. As he filled his inscriptions for universities specialized in the scientific field, you were filling yours with art schools, art universities. That’s why, at the end of high school, you really, really thought he was gone. Out of your sight, out of your life. No more competitions, no more Mark Lee.

But boy, you were wrong. 

You’ll always remember your first day at your new university. You’ve dreamed about it, you’ve dreamed about Mingtian. You may have asked for multiple universities, you prayed to get to Mingtian, one of the continent’s top university. Everything was in your favour. You had moved out of your parent’s home, finally getting the independence you so long craved for, you had your dorm. You would make new friends, finally study something you liked, really, what could go wrong?

At first, nothing did. The weather was nice, the sun was out as you took your first step on campus, you were amazed by how big the campus was. Your first class was as amazing, you never ever liked being in class so much. And you made new friends. Yes, they weren’t in your field, but still.

You met Johnny at your local café. You were exploring the area, trying to find a place to study where you found the small café at the corner of a street, brown brinks and beige furniture. It was welcoming, the scent of coffee and pastries taking over your nose as soon as you took a step in.

Johnny was too occupied to welcome you, another worker did. However, he messed your order up and insisted on letting you get a free croissant, and that’s how the two of you became friends.

He told you he was Korean, lived for over a decade in America. He told you about his city and about his studies. You weren’t surprised when he told you he was at Mingtian, in the dorm just in front of yours. He was new as well and was studying music. Two artists meet and conversation flows easily, quickly, you two become good friends despite the differences. Johnny is the type of guy that doesn’t study until the last minute and waste every free moment partying or working on his music, but one thing is sure, he’s a good friend.

So much so that a month into the school year, when he finds out that he’s you’re only friend you’ve made yet, he insists on introducing you to his new music major friend.

Jaehyun, the other music major, was probably the sweetest person you’ve ever met. The first time you saw him at one of Johnny’s frat house party, he was screaming the lyrics of a song at the top of his lungs, the next day, he was making his mom’s secret recipe to cure any headache.

Quickly, the blond became one of your close friends, he would help you with some art project since he was extremely photogenic, and you would help him practice his vocals when Johnny was too busy working.

As said, Johnny’s frat hosted a lot of parties. If anyone heard some loud bass outside, there was a ninety-five per cent chance that it came from the infamous frat house. To be fair, when you first stepped into your new university, you didn’t think you would ever attend a frat party, but Johnny and Jaehyun both forced you to come, Johnny made it a point to introduce you to new friends every single time.

You can’t remember how many times you walked into the house, walking like a lost puppy, looking for one of your two friends submerged in a wave of college student’s body dancing to the new hit. Vision blocked by a mixture of blinding lights, artificial smoke and weed smoke before you finally found them, moulded into an old couch. You would slowly make your way to them, looking at the new friend they had that night, Johnny would finally, catch a glimpse of you and introduce you as “Y/N that doesn’t have a lot of friends.

Tonight is one of those nights.

When you walk out after waving goodbye to your dorm neighbour, you step a foot outside. It’s still the middle of winter, and you definitely feel it as a cold wind doesn’t need much force to pass through your white blouse. The sky is starting to get dark, the lights of the campus would light up at any moment, and you just figure you should walk to the frat house quickly. Closing your coat in front of your chest, you take quick steps around the campus. It’s surprisingly quiet outside, the heels of your boots hitting the ground at your every step. For once, you actually wanted to go to that party, which was a first. After a full week of finals, you needed to relax a bit, and what was better than a party with your friends.

The lights flicker a moment, before lightening the ground and the grass around the few frat houses. From afar, you can see a few college students having an anti-party in front of the doors, their silhouettes visible every time the colourful lights cast on them. You can’t really make up the song until you’re a few meters away from the house, where one of the members greet you. See, you may not have a lot of friends like Johnny says, but he doesn’t see that he actually made you a bit more popular, at least more popular than you were in high school.

The smell of alcohol and weed take over your senses as you enter the house, squinting your eyes, trying to distinguish a few faces. You know the house pretty well now, making your way towards the living room, you have to stand on your toes to find Johnny. You can’t see if Jaehyun’s here, but you don’t think too much anyways and make your way towards the back of the room.

Sweaty bodies still affect you as much as they did when you first entered a party, holding your hands up to create something that imitates your comfort zone as you navigate between drunk students. Dodging hands and unsteady red cups, once you get to the other side of the dancefloor, you pass by a few other students as Johnny finally notices you.

“Y/N !” You hear his voice before even reaching him, having to abruptly stop as two girls run up the stairs. “Everyone, this is Y/N, she doesn’t have a lot of friends here.”

At this, you were supposed to roll your eyes and deny, like you’ve been doing for the past five parties or so, but once the path clears in front of you and you finally take in exactly who’s sitting next to your friend, you freeze.

“Fancy seeing you here.”, is the first thing he says. There, sitting next to your friend, in your friend’s frat house, in your university, is none other than Mark Lee. God knows you didn’t miss that smirk, and it didn’t change at all. His pink lips match the rose hue that colour his cheeks, probably because of the alcohol or the heat. Tugging upwards to hide half of his eyes, his pupils stay locked on your figure, a few dark brown locks falling in front of his eyes. You notice that he changed his hairstyle, parted in the middle, showing his glowy skin. He’s wearing a loose shirt, collarbones showing as one of his arm’s behind the couch, the other stretched on his leg as he holds a cup as well.

Reacting quite slowly, Johnny’s eyes move between you, still standing there, and his new medicine student friend.

“Oh, you know her ?”, he finally asks, stretching his hand out so you can take it. You hesitate for a moment, suddenly you really, really don’t want to be here. Even, why is he here? You forgot about him, in a few months only, you thought he was gone for good, doing god knows what in another city.

Johnny gives you a questioning look, and for a good reason. You’re here, looking at Mark like he’s an apparition, an apparition of your past, and him, he’s looking at you with a smile, way too proud of himself. You can’t run away, Johnny would probably drag you back, so you have to act normal, you figure. You didn’t know your mouth was slightly open before you close it to swallow your saliva, and you grab Johnny’s hand before he tugs you towards him.

“I think I’ve seen her around my high school a few times, I’m not quite sure.”, Mark responds, a smile still clear only his lips only for you to see as you let Johnny guide your body, forcing you on his lap. The audacity, he really dared to act like he hasn’t known you for almost all his life, a few sits away at every class. 

If Mark could take a picture of this very moment, he definitely would. The way your eyes look round and big like the first time he ever saw you and for once, it’s like you’re missing some words to finally respond, really this party started out great for him, he really didn’t regret coming.

A small laugh moves his chest, taking a moment to take in your figure, curious eyes scanning over you both and Johnny, the same glint he has dancing in his eyes since he was a child. He stays silent for a moment, he wonders for a moment if you’re the girl Johnny had been talking about for the past week and unconsciously, you get a bit more comfortable on his lap.

That’s how you figured out Mark Lee was still somehow in your school. And you should’ve thought about it, really. Mingtian is a well-known university, it’s as big as a small city, the scientific course is one of the best in the whole country. You should’ve known that he had applied here as well, but you can’t really blame yourself, can you? Even if you knew he also got accepted here, the chances to bump into him reminded so, so slim. The scientific department was at one end of the university, the art side a completely other end. But he had to be there, he had to know two of your closest friends, and he had to befriend them.

Your theory’s that he befriended them just to annoy you, and it worked.

Mark started hanging out with Johnny and Jaehyun even more, and of course, the two wanted you to tag along. You didn’t want to risk losing them just because of him so after a bit of argumentation and a lot, a lot of talking to yourself, you agreed.

At first, it was just some Saturday nights spent in either Johnny’s or Jaehyun’s dorm room, a random movie playing in the background and mostly university gossip about people you barely know filling the room. You have to say that you prefer those nights in Jaehyun’s room, Johnny has the habit to smoke a lot during the weekends, you always end up leaving the dorms with your clothes smelling like weed and having to justify yourself to everyone you encounter.

You also like Jaehyun’s room better because he can open his bed and make more place and two more really comfortable big cushions. Most of the time, you’re on the bed with either Jaehyun or Johnny, Mark standing as far away as possible.

At first, you had to say that you really thought you’d end up jumping at Mark’s throat after the first few hours, but strangely enough, he was civilized. Never did he mention your weird phases during middle-high school, never did he throw any major shade, making those nights a lot more enjoyable than you thought.

However, the competition still remains, even though you two are in two different fields. You like to think that art isn’t about learning every by heart but rather feeling and understanding, voicing your opinion with argumentation and that medicine is more about pushing everything in your head, just learning again and again. Mark doesn’t understand that, or rather he understands when he wants. He understands that your work might be a bit hard when he gets a grade lower than yours, he doesn’t when he gets a grade higher than yours, but never will he admit that.

Remember about the coffee shop? It quickly became your spot to study. Small and quiet, your friend worked there, which meant a lighthearted pause every now and then, their pastries also rapidly became a guilty pleasure. They were pricy, sure, but oh how you loved spending a bit of your money in one of their black chocolate éclair, or one of their cups of vanilla coffee.

However, Mark quickly heard about the shop. After all, his friend worked there so wouldn’t he come by a few times, when his oh so busy schedule allowed it. Sometimes, he sat near the window, never too close from him since again, the shop was small, sometimes he came right during Johnny’s pause and had to tag along and ended up on your table. One thing was sure, he never ever missed a chance to shove his newest grade in your face.

Strangely, seeing him became less and less weird. On your part, you became less tense around him, actually making small talk here and there for Johnny and Jaehyun’s biggest joy, but never did it erase the everlasting competition and the underlying hatred you two had for each other, it was just, hidden.

Johnny and Jaehyun were easily fooled, thinking that the initial weird tension between the two of you had slowly fated, they started making plans for what the called “friend dates.” The first one was planned by Johnny who found a cheap but rather interesting and promising restaurant near the university, and that’s how you ended up in this Italian restaurant.

A yawn escaped your lips before you could even hide it behind your hand, both your arms stretched above your hands as you leaded back on your chair. A small smiled was offered by Johnny while Jaehyun was going back from his phone placed on the small iron table to his position, arm behind his chair as he looked behind his back, scanning the area. 

You don’t really know if it was a restaurant or more a place with a lot of small restaurants, either way, it was really pretty, you had to admit. Slow European songs were playing, lights hanging everywhere, carpets with different designs everywhere. It smelled like pasta and pizza, as cliché as it sounds and most importantly, it was crowded. So crowded.

It took around ten minutes to find a four places table, and now that you were sitting down, on this Friday night, it took everything in your system to not fall asleep right here and now. Jaehyun was, on the other hand, too hyper. Looking everywhere, checking his phone every two minutes, he didn’t hesitate to throw a few insults here and there as Mark was getting more and more late.

“Where is he ?“, asked Johnny again, yet never losing his patience.

“I don’t know, he isn’t answering his phone and this kid NEVER leaves it.”, for a moment you wonder if he’s actually upset or if he’s exercising his acting skills, the pout on his lower lip more and more prominent.

“Wait a few minutes, I’ll go to his dorm if he doesn’t show up.” You and Jaehyun nod at this, only to be cut by heavy footsteps of someone running. Even with all the people and all the general noise, your attention gets caught by the few people complaining about someone pushing them without even giving a single apology.

Jet black hair comes bouncing at his every step, a not so apologetic smile contorting his features whenever his shoulder bumps into someone by mistake. You’ve never seen him this happy, his lips stretching up soon as he finally sees the three of you, his eyes disappearing for a moment. Before he reaches your table, you notice the paper he’s carefully holding in his hands, sometimes holding it to his chest or up in the air whenever someone might damage it.

Jaehyun, on the other hand, notices the phone his holding in his other hand, the one he didn’t care to check for the past ten minutes.

No matter how questioning your looks are, never did his smile fade, both his hands slapping the iron table as soon as he reached it.

“Finally, we were about to call the police and report a missing child.”, was the first thing the blonde found appropriate to say, even though it was well obvious the brunette has something important to say. Nevertheless, his smile never faded as he took a few seconds to catch his breath, his head hanging low for a moment.

“Mark, take a seat.”, Johnny finally spoke, gesturing to the seat right between the second music major and you.

Flopping without any grace on the grey chair, Mark finally sat down, his respiration a bit steadier, he flipped the white paper over.

“Guess who just got a one-week internship in the continent’s biggest laboratory ?”

An internship in the continent’s biggest laboratory. Jaehyun’s pout somehow disappeared after a few seconds just to congratulate the lucky boy, Johnny stayed true to himself and got excited as if he was the one who got the internship. You had to congratulate him, it would look weird right, if you didn’t congratulate your so-called friend, plus you didn’t want to bring the mood down just because of a bit of bitterness. You found yourself congratulating him almost naturally, if it wasn’t for the tight smile you gave him and the full one he returned, you really didn’t get the chance to see him a lot like this back in the days.

After the initial mixture of shock, joy and excitement came down, you finally all got up to get something to eat in this big place, finally settling down as Johnny decided to bring a toast to Mark with his sunset cocktail. 

For once, you weren’t really jealous, after all, you were well placed to know that Mark worked hard to get that internship, you were just a foot away when Johnny made him act his interview out at least once a week to make sure it was perfect. Finally, the tense smile left for a sincere one, who were you to hold grudges from years ago and spit on your friend’s, or almost friend’s, success.

At some point in the night, way too many cocktails were drowned and tested, with alcohol or without, at the end of the night the three boys were at least a bit tipsy, you were at least buzzed by their loud discussion and laughs. You know your teenage self would be screaming at you, but here’s the thing, you aren’t a teenager anymore, you’re a young adult, as they like to call you, and you want to behave like so.

Your hand finds Mark’s arm, catching his attention as you lightly tap the fabric of his shirt. The white button-up he was wearing for the interview was starting to get wrinkled, but he certainly didn’t care, his sleeves pushed up, the way he didn’t even fold them were making you slightly anxious.  

You almost laughed at the puzzled look he gave you for a moment, a smile stretched your lips as you finally spoke. “Congrats on the internship, Mark.”

One thing was sure, Mark had a lot of hope for this internship. After all, the fact that he worked there for a week looked good on his student’s dossier, but if they also added that he worked hard and well, that could be an important point for a future employer. Maybe he dreamed a bit too much, after all, he was on his first year but, if they saw that he worked hard and most importantly, was serious and had potential, maybe they would keep him in mind after he graduated.

Needless to say, Mark was putting a lot of hope in this. On his first day, he wore some formal clothes, something similar to the button-up he wore for the interview and he swore he couldn’t stop smiling when they gave him the white blouse and a little tag with “Mark Lee” written on it.

The laboratory was huge, even after a month he was sure he could get lost in it but luckily for him, someone took him under their wing. Doyoung had been working there for almost two years now, he made sure to make Mark visit everything the first day, would sit with him during lunch and introduce him to his friends. Doyoung knew what he was doing, he knew he was giving the brunette a chance to make contacts and perhaps play with them after he graduated. The men quickly grew fond of Mark, actually seeing a younger him in the boy.

On the first day, he didn’t get to do a lot, but it was good enough. After all, they made important things there, like drugs, and if he messed up, a lot of people would suffer from it. He knew he wouldn’t get to play with some experiments but watching was already a great experience for him.

After three days, Mark didn’t miss the opportunity to loudly enter the coffee shop pretty late in the afternoon, the only day his internship allowed him to get out early, not that he actually wanted to leave as soon as possible. For a good hour or two, he explained everything about the building, what they did and what he saw, no need to say that when he started talking about some experience they were doing for some new drug and what chemicals they were using, your art student self, the two music student didn’t quite catch everything. But being the good friends you three were, you would nod and listen anyways.

You have to say your interest got poked when he mentioned the closed room he didn’t visit yet, apparently, they kept small animals there to test drugs on them.

“Animal testing.”, you simply said, the tone in your voice enough to project your opinion on the subject.

“They’re actually trying to reduce animal testing until at some point, they’ll just stop doing it.”, Mark said, taking a sip of his black tea, the same he drank every time he stayed a bit at the coffee shop, glancing over at Jaehyun. The boy was big on cruelty-free products and even had one of Lush’s bags to prove it, one of his eyebrows raising, telling him to continue.

“Basically they’re testing on spiders right now, but as time goes by they’ll start testing on cells and human tissue.”, he said, almost too casually. What he didn’t say though, was that he asked about animal testing to Doyoung just to inform you and Jaehyun. Yes, he also was against animal testing but he knew the two of you were a lot, lot more passionate by the subject.  

“Wait, spiders ?”, you asked, after you finished your cup of chocolate. You didn’t even know testing on spiders were a thing, you knew about rat, mouse, and rabbit. Maybe you didn’t really hold spiders close to your heart but it didn’t mean you couldn’t feel bad for them, not now that you knew some weird drug were being tested on them just for humans.

“Yeah, the room I was talking about earlier, that’s where they keep them. Doyoung said he would show me tomorrow and I don’t know if I’m more excited or completely terrified to be in a room with like, thousands of different spiders.”

“Can you imagine if someone like, leaves the door open and all the spiders escape.”, that’s the only thing Johnny found appropriate to say, a noise of disgust coming from both you and Jaehyun and you were sure he felt the same shiver run down his spine as you looked at Johnny in horror, who didn’t seem fazed at all.

“Everything’s pretty secured there, not a single chance that a spider could escape his box, even less the whole fucking troupe guys.”

And oh, if he knew.

Mark liked to think that he was a rather cautious young man, for a lack of better words. He always looked both ways before crossing, he was always cautious when driving, he never got in any sticky situations, but really, he couldn’t know what was coming.

As he was standing in front of the white door, he waited like the good student he was for Doyoung. Now that he took the time to think about it, he could really see himself working here, some people already knew him, greeting him as they walked by. Deep down he was anticipating the last day, but he would cherish this week and all the opportunities he had the chance to have.

“Good afternoon Mark.”, Doyoung’s voice could be heard from the other end of the corridor, lightly singing the college student’s name. His pitch-black hair were a bit messy, which was particularly strange for the men who was always clean on his image.  The sleeves of his white blouse had been crunched up to his elbows, and only then did Mark remember that Doyoung had a reunion for a new drug right before.

A polite smile stretched the boy’s lips as he turned to face the one he considered his mentor now, putting his hand forward so he could shake his.

“Alright, the reunion’s not over yet so, I’m going to unlock the door for you because I trust you. But Mark, make sure to push the door when you leave and it’ll lock itself.”

Only then did Mark notice the way his eyebrows furrowed for a moment, he didn’t dare ask him to stay or even talk about his reunion, not with how quickly he whipped his card out of his pocket, scanning the back. His thumb quickly tapped in the code he seemed to remember by heart, before pushing the door and taking a step back.

“Or you l-“, started Mark, never getting the chance to finish his sentence.

“I have to go kiddo, be careful and don’t let them run away.”, as the only thing he said before walking away, throwing finger guns at the youngest before quickly walking back to the reunion. Really out of his usual state.

Alright, maybe that’s not how Mark imagined his day, after all, he never entered any room without anyone’s supervision, he doubted that Doyoung wasn’t breaking some rule by letting him, a young college student, in a room full of spiders with God knows what in their system. The boy even took a few seconds to rip his eyes away from the figure of the brunette quickly walking away, not quite realizing until the corridor went silent as his footsteps faded away.

Mark didn’t really want to stay in that room alone, he wanted someone to tell him about the species and they were used for, but now he was sure he would just look at them for a few minutes before walking away. When finally, he dared looking at the unlocked door, he at least had to say that it was quite intriguing, from afar. The blue hue coming from the slightly opened door had the power to spike his curiosity, what sounded like a powerful AC helping the room to stay rather fresh.

After all, if it was opened, he could at least give it a look, right? Shrugging his shoulders to himself, his hand easily pushed the wooden door, revelling the squarish room to the college student. Surprisingly, the room wasn’t too blue, he could at least see in front of him, make out the numerous cages, vivarium for the spiders. At first, he didn’t see them. His head to the side, Mark took the first step in, being careful not to close the door behind him, afraid he would lock himself in. Against each wall, he could count three lines of four vivariums, all the same size. They all looked quite the same, some sand or some dirt, some plants and a branch.

Nothing out of the ordinary, really.

His attention first got caught by the way the light danced on his skin, how his rings would catch the blue neon. The room was fairly silent, aside from the vibrating sound of the AC, he took a few footsteps, getting in the middle of the room. At first, it looked like all the vivariums were empty, only when he walked a bit more did he notice some movement.

Keeping his hands behind his back, Mark got curious for a moment. Behind one large wooden branch, at first, he didn’t see anything before a black spider’s legs finally made its way on the piece of tree. The college student didn’t really flinch, he never had a fear for spiders so he didn’t even need to be afraid when they were safely locked in these boxes.

When finally, the spider showed itself, not paying any attention to the men in front of its house, Mark had to say that at least, he never saw any spider that looked like that. Pitch black, he was sure the spider wasn’t noticeable in the dark, making it even more dangerous. Long, skinny legs, a red dot was in the middle of its small body.

Looking for anything with a bit of information, Mark searched around the box, nothing really showed the name of the spider of its species, maybe they stored the documents on top of the boxes, he wondered for a moment. He was tall enough to reach the top of the vivariums, but he couldn’t quite see it. Getting a bit closer to the box, he made sure to not leave any fingerprints on the glass before getting on his toes, his hand flat on the top.

Mark could make the opening of the vivarium, making sure to avoid it, he searched for a few seconds more but never did his hand bump into any paper. His hand did bump into something, but he didn’t know what, not paying much attention before passing his hand one last time. He didn’t hide his deception when he couldn’t find anything, his eyes getting lost for a moment in the vivarium in front of him. On his toes, he could see almost everything in the box, but strangely, he didn’t see any spider.

Looking for a moment from side to side, he could see the other spiders, every one different from the other. One finally got his attention, yellowish body, but before he could even look at the insect a bit more, a small gasp escaped his lips. Immediately taking his hand away, Mark tumbled backwards, almost bumping into the stacks of vivarium behind him. Confused look contorted his features as he took a moment to realize. His hand probably touched a loose piece of metal, his skin probably getting hurt on the sharp object, right? Under the blue light, his blood looked almost black, the two dots so noticeable on the skin of his palm.

Two dots, two dots. The skin around the two holes seemed to burn, his hand growing numb. His eyes widen in realization, they didn’t miss the small black object moving on the floor, looking a bit lost. Mark almost lifted his feet to crush the animal, now that he was looking at it a bit more, it wasn’t black, but brown. He must’ve bitten him and was still on his hand when he backed away, the fall was probably really disorientating for the spider.

Mark couldn’t believe his eyes, one of the spiders had escaped. A curse escaped his lips, his hand flat on the wound, making sure to not leave any trace of blood on the floor. For a quick second, he didn’t really know what to do, his heart was still calming down from the pain of the bite, his mind not quite cooperating after realizing he had one of these spiders in front of him.

He had to think quickly, and leave as quickly. His valid hand took a tissue from his back pocket, one he always carried with him. Not thinking twice, he threw the fabric on the spider before it could run away again, and before it could escape the dark prison, Mark quickly picked it up, almost running to the vivarium.

The college student’s eyes couldn’t leave his dorm’s selling, the index of his left hand tracing the homemade bandage he had for his wound. After what happened, Mark quickly ran to the bathroom, making sure no one was there. He wasn’t sure what he risked, after all, he didn’t let the spider escape, it escaped on its own, but he didn’t want to put Doyoung in trouble for letting him, a young college student, all alone in such a place.

Maybe it was too late and maybe it was unnecessary but he bought his lips to his mound anyway, sucking to blood before spitting, he saw that in a documentary once. He wasn’t even sure if the spider was dangerous, sure he was a bit lightheaded from the chock but his body didn’t seem to react.

He didn’t want anyone to know what happened in that room, he didn’t want it to be heard, so he acted like nothing happened. He made sure to close the door behind him and even stayed a bit more before finally going back to his dorm.

Everything was normal, really, at least he tried to convince himself. He quickly walked back to his dorm, made some food, slipped into his more comfortable clothes. He had been eating pasta for the past week and decided to switch it up for some ramen that night, picking his grey sweatpants and a random hoodie before getting under his blanket, tomorrow was his day off and he could treat himself to some Netflix and fall asleep as late as he wanted as long as it wasn’t after the break of dawn.

Really, everything was normal, he almost forgot about the bite, if it wasn’t for exactly three episodes into Umbrella Academy, around one in the morning. Mark’s wound started itching, at first he didn’t pay much attention, he didn’t want to. But the more he ignored it, the more he felt like the wound was burning, more than it did when the spider bit him.

Lightly, his fingernails scratched the bandage, he didn’t want to hurt himself even more but the itching was so annoying and loud that he unconsciously clenched his jaw, the bone enlightens by his laptop screen. He had to say, he might have panicked a bit when his heart started beating loudly in his ribcage, his ears growing hot, he couldn’t even hear the soft dialogue of his episode.

The more time passed, the more his focus on his screen faded, he couldn’t even pay attention to what was happening as he tried to control his breathing. Under his sweatshirt, his chest was moving up and down irregularly, was he having a panic attack? It never happened to him, but somehow he knew it wasn’t that, it was something else. Cold sweat appeared on his hairline, and that’s when he really started panicking.

Moving his laptop to the side, the screen almost hit the wall of his dorm room, moving his blanket away to completely expose his body to the cold air of the night but it didn’t even change anything. His feet on the floor didn’t even help to regulate his body temperature, neither did the half bottle of water he drowned in seconds.          

Something was wrong, but never did Mark felt like giving in the panic. His hand quickly found his phone lost in his huge blanket, activating his flashlight, he was quick to raise on his feet, putting aside the way he felt lightheaded and almost dizzy at how quickly he got up.

He didn’t even know if he had the right to walk outside of his room at this hour, to be frank he didn’t really read the rules of his dorm but he needed to go to the bathroom anyway, he needed to splash some water on his face and stop this panic.

The whole process to go to the building’s bathroom was a blur, thankfully he didn’t come across anything and he quickly got a hold of the faucet, letting the water run for a moment. His eyes took a moment to get familiar to the white artificial light of the room, the white walls not making anything to help.

Strangely, he didn’t look weird, nothing was strange about his face, about his appearance. Yes, he looked a bit panicked, a bit sweaty but he didn’t get any allergic reaction so why did he feel so…weird, so bad? He starred at his figure for a moment. He had to stop giving in to the panic, he had to think rationally, maybe he ate something bad, maybe the ramens weren’t good anymore, maybe he needed sleep. After all, he had a few rough and full days, maybe staying up late wasn’t a good idea. Yes, it was probably something like that.

Bringing his hands under the water running down, he looked at it for a moment. Breathe in, breathe out, before he brought his hands to his face. The cold water sure helped calming his features, his jaw relaxing, it helped cool his temperature.

A sigh left his lips, his shoulders relaxing as he shook his hands, he needed to calm down. His attention got caught once again by the white, homemade bandage, thinking for a few seconds. With the water, the sticky fabric started lifting up from his skin. He just wanted to check, see if it had gotten worse, so the sleepy college student quickly took the bandage off, he could make a new one if he needed to. For a second, he really thought he was sleepy, for a moment.

The wounds were gone.

[6:39 PM] Jaehyun: Hey dumbass, you’re almost 40 minutes late, where are you?

Mark doesn’t respond, he doesn’t even know where his phone is. The vibrations make it sound like his phone’s everywhere at the same time, he almost feels them in his spine, both his hands closing around his ears.

[6:55 PM] Jaehyun: We’ll wait five minutes, not a minute more so you better get your ass here quickly.

The college student desperately tries to understand where he is for a moment, he just woke up in a cold sweat yet again, but he doesn’t even remember falling asleep. His mind is still fogged by sleep, or rather the lack of it. Strangely, the floor’s clean, weirdly clean.

[7:05 PM] Jaehyun: Hey, are you ok?

He doesn’t even know himself.

It’s been a few days since the bite, but he didn’t really keep track since his internship ended. Since he left the laboratory, he didn’t feel like himself anymore. Truth be told, when the wounds disappeared, he just brushed it off, maybe he bled a little and the wounds were too small for him to see and he didn’t want to become paranoid over such a small incident. But he couldn’t deny the fact that he felt, different. Waking up in a cold sweat became too familiar, he would run to the bathroom and had to change his clothes at least once every night. He quickly ran out of clothes to wear, forcing him to do his laundry multiple times a week.

He didn’t know if nightmares would wake him up, he didn’t remember his dreams, it felt like he didn’t dream at all and just woke up tangled in his sheets, in a pool of his sweat, completely disoriented every time. At first, he thought he was sick, but he didn’t have any fever despite the weird feeling of being slightly out of your body and seeing things your mind creates to trick you.

As the days went by, his muscles felt more and more sore. It started with his arms, at first he thought it was because he forgot to stretch after his sport session, but arms day was last week. It spread to his shoulders, tense and back arched, he only felt at ease when he was resting, laying. Quickly, his legs didn’t resist, and yesterday he couldn’t even study for more than an hour before he felt like all his resources left his body.

He fell asleep on his desk so quickly, all the will in his body couldn’t even keep him awake for more than a few minutes. Once again, dreamless night, he woke up in the dead of the night, cold sweat collecting on his forehead. Really, these past days only left the shadow of who Mark once was. He barely ate, slept a lot, didn’t get any work done. Even when he slept, he barely got any peace or any energy, he barely felt less sleepy.

All of this, all of this was strange and unusual for him. Mark Lee has always been an energic kid, an energetic men. Never did he ever felt so tired, so out of everything. Mark rather was the type to work even more after school, he had a lot of energy and everyone knew about it, from his parents to his teachers. At first, he tried to stay calm and find some rational reason. After all, he just started college and it was pretty stressed, he had to admit even if he didn’t like to give in to stress, he just finished a week-long internship where he had a few missions, so really, it must be that. It could be it but this, this right now, was not normal at all.

When finally, the sleep started fading away, small eyes taking the fading sunlight in, only then did Mark found that he was a bit more alive. For once in a few days, his body didn’t feel sore, he could stretch a bit and his muscles wouldn’t scream at him. He could fully breathe in, take a deep breath in and look out the window. It was still pretty early but the sun was weirdly down… His eyes narrowed for a moment as a yawn escaped his lips, one of his hands rubbing his eyes. His head tilted to the side, was the building in front of him…upside down?

He almost laughed, before looking up. That’s when a scream escaped his lips, completely uncontrolled, panicked wide eyes took in his room, just like he left it but upside down. He almost pinched himself, what type of dream was that, he looked again at his room before his eyes focused on his feet.

He was on his ceiling.

And as soon as he realized, taking in his ceiling and the way the sunshine filtered through his blinds from way too close, he fell down. The loud sound echoed in his room, alongside his whine as he rolled on his side, the college student didn’t know but his carpet and thick blanket he left on the floor managed to absorb a bit of the pain. Whines escaped his lips for a few more seconds as his hands pressed on his arms, he was sure to have bruises there and on his sides, staying there for a few moments.

“What the fuck.”, what the fuck just happened, what the fuck was that? He was on his ceiling, just moments before, he was up there. He didn’t imagine it, it wasn’t a dream, he saw the way the building in front of him was upside down, he saw his bedroom from up there. He couldn’t explain it but he knew he wasn’t hallucinating, he had bruises to prove it, the way he fell in the middle of his room and how bad his arm ached told him he didn’t simply fell from his bed.

“Hey, Mark. Are you ok ?”, a voice came from the door, he couldn’t mistake the voice of Johnny. He certainly wanted to check up on him, heard his body falling from a few meters, or his whines, and wanted to check. The room fell silent for a minute, Mark needing time to register the situation and find how he would respond. He knocked a few times on the thin wooden door, as thin as the walls clearly, and the young men called for his friend again.

“Uh, yeah. Yes, don’t worry !”, he, himself, wasn’t convinced at all. His voice was somehow still sleepy, shaking slightly. He managed to get up on his elbows, having trouble to even flip on his stomach to face the door.

“Do you need help ?”, asked Johnny, sounding worried. Clearly, he didn’t believe what Mark said in the slightest. The thing is, after months of friendship, Mark had a key to Johnny’s room and Jaehyun’s room, which ultimately meant that Johnny probably had a key to Mark’s room as they were speaking. Whatever was happening right now, whatever was going on with him, his body or his mind, Mark didn’t want anyone to see it. Both ashamed and scared, him, the well put together from the group, didn’t even want his close friends to see his bruised and tired, sleepy body down on the floor for some reason, he didn’t want anyone to see the bags under his eyes and the way they were big with a mixture of both fear and shock. He was scared, scared of what was going on, he didn’t want to talk about it to anyone before he, himself, figured it out.

“No, no don’t worry. I’m just tired and…I need sleep.”, was the only thing he managed to get out, his legs kicking his blanket away without any successful result. At his voice, he was sure his friend could tell something was going on inside that room.

“Mark, don’t lie to me.”, the music major said, sounding a bit disappointed. After all, he was his friend and he couldn’t bear having him lying so blatantly and skipping a friend date without a reason. Before he could even respond, Mark heard the distinct noise of a key sliding in his bedroom’s door, understanding quickly that he wasn’t planning on letting him get away so easily.

Without even understanding, his right hand lifted up. It was just a reflex, he didn’t think it would stop his friend from entering his room, it was just a vain attempt but as soon as his hand lifted, guided towards the door, a white string shot out quicker than he could understand. If his eyes weren’t already wide, they were probably about to pop out. Right in front of his eyes, a white, thick spider web-linked the door to the wall, keeping it from opening. Mouth agape, Mark watched almost horrified as his friend tried to open the door but kept struggling to push it, not knowing what was the problem.

“What the fuck.”

See, Mark Lee is a smart boy. From day one, he used to get those star stickers in kindergarten, he would get high grades in junior high school, always staying at the top of his class and unlike his classmates, his grades didn’t crash once in high school. Somehow, he managed to keep his grades impressively high while keeping a social life. Maybe he had to work a bit more at the start of college but after all, it was superior studies, he had to work. He was also a smart boy outside of studies, so really, when he couldn’t understand what was wrong with him, he couldn’t help but feel extremely frustrated.

For a good hour after Johnny left, slightly hurt and even more worried, the college student spent a good part of the beginning of the night trying to figure out exactly what was wrong with him. He pinched himself a few times, he tried to wake up but deep down he knew he was already awake, from the moment he saw the sun upside down. He knew he was awake, yet he couldn’t believe his eyes.

When his body finally allowed it, he raised to his feet, checking his body. Nothing. Not a bruise, not even a red-ish area, it was like nothing happened yet again. Maybe then, he would’ve given in to the idea that he was hallucinating, if only he didn’t have the huge spider web in front of his eyes to prove that something was going on.   Hesitant fingers traced the spider web. It came from his hand, or his fingers, he didn’t know, but he put two and two together.

Believe himself or believe science and all he learned so far. If he believed what his teachers, what everyone told him for those past twenty years, he feared he might go crazy. Nothing, no book, no specialist, nothing and no one could explain what was going on with his body. If he believed himself, he took the risk to be seen as a crazy person, a freak, a delusional. But after all, he saw what he could do with his body now, great things, but scary things. If he believed himself, he had to understand by himself, and that’s what he chose.

When finally, after a long night of sleep which was surprisingly helpful, he finally texted you, Johnny and Jaehyun to reassure the three of you, he finally decided to understand things by himself, he almost lost all reason. See, Mark never really skipped class without a good reason. He was the type to skip maybe once or twice a year, only when he was really sick or had some family emergency, that week, he skipped all his classes. Of course, he made sure to tell his teachers, talking about some cold he got after the internship that ultimately resulted in him being stuck to his bed, he managed to someone build a good enough relationship between most his teachers that they all excused him for the week.

Mark wasn’t really happy about it, he didn’t like skipping class, he knew that at the end of it all he would’ve had stacks of documents and papers and classes to learn, but if what he saw was real, if what he did wasn’t the result of sleepless nights, paranoia and stress, then he couldn’t go out before he understood everything.

Feeding himself with junk food and leftovers, his workout routine was thrown out the window. He didn’t know how, he just knew it had to do with the spider bite, obviously. But he googled, and even read articles about that specific spider that bite him and it was essentially harmless. Yes, maybe it was a bit itchy and would hurt for the first few minutes but after reading all the articles about it from the first three pages of google, Mark could confidently say that a bite from this spider wouldn’t result in hallucinations, fever, cold sweat, anything he experienced. One box was checked.

He thought about going back to the laboratory, but without the pass they took from him on the last day, it was impossible, he just had to deal with that alone for the moment. He then, after hours of researches on spiders, remembered the bite and bruises. His body and skin were undamaged. He knew, it was just logical for him to have at least a bruise on the arm and side he fell, yet nothing was there. He could touch, press, pinch, he felt nothing, ending up with him crossing another box. Maybe it was the hours of researches, the hours of torturing his mind and turning his brain just to understand what was wrong with him, but somewhere in the night between the first and second day, he decided he would check one of his theories.

His scientific mind told him it was impossible, he would probably end up in the hospital or seriously injured, but after all, his scientific mind wasn’t much help these past few days so he decided to push the thought to the side. Just a knife would be enough, a small cut on his finger he could pass as a simple domestic incident if someone asked about it. Somewhere in the night, in the middle of the campus, Mark sat exactly where he fell. Everything was silent, everyone was pretty much about to fall asleep or studying as he could see all the lights slowly going off one by one room, in the building in front of him. The cold breeze coming from his window faded the sweat collecting on his skin away as he stared a moment at the knife. He was probably going crazy, but he needed to do it, these thoughts kept coming and coming as he took a look around him, papers around his body where he noted all his experiences.

He didn’t think twice, he had to look up as he quickly brushed the cutting knife on the skin of his finger. At least, it wasn’t as bad as a paper cut, the pain wasn’t so bad, perhaps a little hiss escaped his lips as he added a band-aid, but he could deal with it. Quickly, the blood could be seen through the cotton, at least he knows he was really hurt, had a real wound. With his second hand, he grabbed his phone, almost dying, with one swift motion he opened the camera, not paying attention to the message he got. Yes, it was weird, but Mark was ultimately just working on an experiment, and he needed proof and documents to work on. If tomorrow morning, his wound was still there, he would probably put himself in a hospital.

The sigh that left his lips was loud and clear, letting his back hit his bed, only then did he look a bit more at his phone. He had a few messages from the group chat both the one with a few of his classmates and the other with you, Jaehyun and Johnny. But he also had a private one from none other than you.

[10:23 PM] Y/N: Hey, how are you feeling?

Mark started at the screen for a moment. The men was slightly delusional, Mark was the type of person who thought no one really cared about him, or just because of manners. Sure, you, Jaehyun and Johnny expressed some concerns in the group chat which he quickly brushed off but he didn’t know you cared enough to text him privately. Weirdly, it kind of makes him feel good, like he wasn’t really alone. Only when the blue bubbles appeared on the screen, disappeared again, before popping up again did he understand that you were typing and erasing, just like he was doing.

[10:25 PM] Mark: Hey, I’m feeling the same to be honest.

And just as he sent the text, you sent one too, a small smile stretching his lips at the message.

[10:25 PM] Y/N: I made some soup today, want some ?

The thing is, you two never saw each other one on one, at least not in the past ten years. Yes, you two got a bit closer, and a lot more civilized since high school but so much more is happening right now, as Mark started yet again at the screen, not knowing what to answer.

You, on the other side, the building just in front of Mark’s dorm, stare at your screen just like he is doing at that exact moment. You can’t really believe yourself but, you do worry about him. You’re kind of obligated to, too, especially when both Jaehyun and Johnny seem pretty worried about the young college student.

See, you’ve also known the men all your life, so when you heard he would be missing for one of your friend dates and that Johnny heard something, someone falling down in his dorm room, you were sure it was the satanic ritual to keep both popularity and good grades. You weren’t too worried at first, since you had to skip a friend date but when you heard the was skipping a whole, and an entire week of school, you couldn’t help but be surprised.

You remember back in high school when he skipped two days in a row and how happy you felt to finally have a few days to breathe, but now, now that you two are somehow between friends and ex-enemies, you really can’t help but wonder. To add to everything, you didn’t tell Johnny or Jaehyun, but from your room, you had a small view on Mark’s window. Sure, you didn’t see anything, but you saw how his light was always on, it seemed like he wasn’t sleeping, you remember seeing his lights on when you were about to go to sleep and at four in the morning when you needed to go to the bathroom. Even at six in the morning, when you just woke up, his lights were still on.

Perhaps you and Mark didn’t get that along for most of your lives, but you knew he was the type to keep to himself, to not tell anyone what he going through, and again, the fact that he skipped an entire week, refused to see Johnny and seemed to not sleep at all only added to your sense of worry.

That day, you decided to make some soup, both for you who got a cold after your friend date, but also for Mark. Usually, you made food for you only, you rarely had leftovers, but even if your teenager self was screaming at you for the gesture, you had to get used to the idea that you and Mark were friends, and friends look out for each other. It was both an attempt to clarify that you didn’t really hold any grudges against him after all, but also in hopes of making him feel better that you added the Thai soup to a bowl, wrapping it in some transparent paper, you had left.

Isn’t it funny how things change quickly? A few months ago, you thought Mark was long gone from your life, and now you’re almost worried and bringing him soup to his dorm. It’s weird how you also feel anxious, years of hating Mark Lee’s guts would’ve suppressed any feeling for him and yet, here you are frantically tapping your fingers on the hot bowl. Is it too much, too soon? He could’ve denied though, are is it too polite to do so?

Can a few months really change your relationship? Won’t it be weird? You don’t even have the time to think much about all these questions before he opens the door, or at least tries to. You don’t know it but, on the other side, the young men is struggling to rip the thick spider web off, letting a breathy “W-wait, just give me a second” escape from his dry lips.

The young men knew your dorm was ridiculously close, actually he could see your window from his, not that he checked it to make sure you got home or anything, but he didn’t think you’d come so quickly.

The weird and new feeling of goosebumps rising on the back of his neck somehow told him you were close, he had to quickly kick his blanket on his bed, find a way to hide the too many boxes of noodles he had laying around and at least, at the very least, make it look like he was working. Only then did he have the time to give his attention to the web, going back and forth in his bedroom before he found a pair of scissors, hiding both the white thing and tool in a drawer.

Mark hoped he at least looked presentable.

“Mark Lee? Lee Mark ? Mark and you ?”, Yerim asks over the phone, making you roll over on your stomach. You suddenly regret even telling your old high school about last night, the way she pronounces Mark’s name and yours in the same sentence telling enough about how she’s feeling. 

“Don’t make a big deal out of it.”, you whine on your end of the phone, hiding your face in your soft pillow. Really, you needed to tell someone about the night before and both Johnny and Jaehyun were crossed from your list. They didn’t even know that Mark actually knew you quite well back in the days, let alone that the two of you despited each other.

Yerim was the third-best option, she knew the history between you and Mark, was free and wasn’t sick of hearing you complain like many of your friends. 

“It is a big deal ?”, she started, her tone almost questioning your point of view. “You’ve been hating his guts for years, Y/N. And you’ve been telling me all about it for years too.” 

A deep sigh left your lips, really you didn’t know how to respond. The blonde was right, though. It kind of was a big deal, but you didn’t want to blow such a thing out of proportion. Your fingers ticked at a loose thread coming out of your blanket, a pout forming on your lips. “I knooow.” 

Ah, what was Mark Lee doing to you? The night before, when he opened the door and looked like he had run the marathon to clean his bedroom, you couldn’t help but laugh at him, his tense shoulders dropping down as soon as he heard the sound. 

You had spent the extremely short walk to his dorm wondering if being alone with him wouldn’t be weird and thankfully, it hadn’t been, at any point of the night. You wonder if him being sick and probably a bit feverish by the look on his face didn’t make the whole thing easier, after all, who wants to act though and actively keep grudges when sick? 

Your initial plan was to drop the soup, ask how he was doing and bolt out, make the experience short to avoid any chances of it getting ugly, but Mark had insisted for you to at the very least take a seat and tell him about the friend date he missed. The way he asked wasn’t forced, it wasn’t just something to be polite, and after all, Mark hadn’t seen anyone in quite a while now. The young man was the extrovert, he fed off social interactions, maybe that’s why he felt a bit happy to see you. Being sleep deprived does things to you, he figured. 

The five minutes trip you had planned turned into two hours, Mark was eating his soup on his bed, not wanting you to sit on it because it was “A bed of batteries”, while you sat on his desk chair, making it turn around occasionally as you told him about Johnny’s scream when he thought he lost his camera, Jaehyun’s failed attempt at dinner the other day. 

“And then ?”, asked Yerim, her mouth full of the cupcake she was chewing on. 

“Then? I got back to my dorm.”, you said like it was obvious and didn’t know why she was asking. On the other end, you could clearly hear her disappointment, yet another sigh leaving her lips. 

“Boring.”, she sang, your eyes rolled yet another time before she brushed her words off as a joke. “So, after all these years, are y’all friends ?”, she asked. 

Your head tilted to the side, from your spot, you could see his bedroom window, the light suddenly turning on in the small square as the night started settling in. 

“I guess we are friends now.” 

“Spring is here, read all about your campus’ events to celebrate !”, the headline reads as Mark scrolls down Mingtian’s website, remembering him how weeks had passed since the incident in the lab.

Crazy how your life can change so quickly, so drastically. Mark didn’t really have the time to look back, or maybe he feared doing it. Either way, his life wasn’t the same. A few days after you brought him some soup was all he needed to get back on his feet and get his thoughts together. Long gone was the shadow of himself he’d seen in the black screen of his laptop when another episode loaded on Netflix. 

Firstly, it didn’t take long for him to figure out that this never happened to anyone, anything like this, for the matter. Mark had dreams, a lot, and one of them was for him to discover something that would break science, find something no one ever laid eyes on before him, and he had it, it was him.  Sure, he didn’t expect such a thing to actually happen, nor happen so early on, but he could work with it, as terrifying as it was. 

Second, he figured that thing wasn’t doing anything too harmful to his body. A battery of tests and his doctor told him he was completely healthy without a doubt. So, he was here, actually healing faster when he got hurt, bruises and cuts disappearing in a day or two, hours if it was small. He could apparently walk on walls, but he didn’t really try again after that night he was stuck on his celling, and had something with spider webs that he would keep and test whenever he had the time. 

And that’s how, on third, he started thinking about helping people with his powers. (Mark actually didn’t want to use this word before a few days ago, but he had to face it, it was the definition of superpowers.) See, the thing is, superheroes weren’t unknown, they just didn’t happen in his city, did Mark Lee really have the pretention to be the first one here? 

After years of reading comics, going wide-eyed in front of the news channels, he knew that he’d have a lot on his shoulders. 

A lot of back and forth, could he rely on his powers? What was he really capable of? He didn’t know. For weeks, he locked himself in, he feared testing everything on the outside world until one night, he did it. 

Winter was still present in the air, but the early spring prevented the wind from biting the young man’s skin. The hoodie he was wearing close to his body, he kept his head low as he walked on campus, hands in his pocket. 

In the dead of the night, the streets were empty, only a few people had given up on classes at the time, making them the only people out at this hour, mostly drunk. As lights were going out one by one behind every window, Mark made his way further into the campus, until he reached a place far from only anyone at that time, the vacant stadium. 

“The campus’ superhero! All we know for now.”

Mark almost missed it, if the word “superhero wasn’t in bold, red letters. 

Without missing a beat, the student’s finger tapped on his screen, turning his brightness to the lowest setting. In the background, your conversation with Jaehyun only became a blur as Mark’s ears seemed to ring, his skin burning a bright red as he found hard to focus on such simple words.

The article was short, blurry and dark pictures didn’t even come close to being dangerous for his privacy, and clearly, they didn’t have a lot of information on him. The article clearly was written in the heat of the moment, little proof meaning little people would believe it right away, nothing was clear and set. Speculations on his age, his major. 

Apparently, someone had seen him on his last night out, the anonymous witness talked about seeing him shot something he couldn’t identify, seeing him climbing a wall before he lost him. 

Many comments weren’t taking the whole thing seriously, yet. It made Mark feel a lot, lot better to know that maybe, just maybe, he had a bit more time left to get ready himself before getting forced to show himself to the world. Vine references about how he was on “XGames mode”, and other memes managed to relax him a bit, before he tumbled upon other comments. 

Some didn’t believe yet, some made assumptions already, those got to Mark Lee. If it was real, he needed to be tested, some said, they needed to find him. The city’s own hero, what a task, he wouldn’t and couldn’t stay hidden too long. They went on, and on, never getting tired of their theories. 

“Oh my god.”, Mark whispers, his finger stuck on the screen, refusing to exit the app. 

“What did you say ?”, Jaehyun asked, chewing on his gum, his attention switching from you to Mark. Only Johnny was missing, his pause starting soon, you three were seated at your usual table in the café. The sun would set a bit later than usual, the golden light filtering through the large windows, the café emptying as it usually was busy early in the day. 

Mark looked up, eyebrows shot up to hide under his dark locks, his eyes moving back and forth from yours to Jaehyun’s, amusement from his sudden reaction clear on the other men’s eyes. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

“I- eh…I just blacked out for a moment.”, Mark finally managed to let out, locking his phone before leaving it on the table, people started talking about the new phenomena way too soon, he didn’t expect this big of exposure without even having everything figured out himself. 

Oh, the superhero life didn’t suit him that well. 

“You’ve been doing it pretty often these days, did you get some rest ?”, you asked, tilting your head to the side. Bringing your cup of tea to your tinted lips, you took a sip, almost chuckling against it as he got lost in his thoughts again, but this time, you were in the centre. 

Maybe it was the lack of sleep due to coming finals, mixed with the slight shock he still had lingering around and the colour of lipstick you chose to wear today, but he took a bit too long to detach his eyes from the nude stain of the white object. Maybe it was the guilt from not telling any of his closest friends, the guilt he had because as time when by, he felt himself drifting away. 

“Yah, this kid is always dreaming”, Johnny’s loud voice and his hand ruffling his dark lock finished to bring him back to reality, a smile softening his features. The tallest took a seat next to him, making the new superhero look small in comparison. He couldn’t help but notice as he thanked Johnny for the cup of coffee, did he have the shoulders to do it? He wasn’t buff, he wasn’t extremely tall, he wasn’t the one to actively go to the gym, he had a few muscles from dancing and sports but so many guys religiously went to the gym for more, and more. 

“What are you dreaming about ?”, teasingly asked Jaehyun, to wish Mark decided to ignore at first. His cup of coffee was brought to his lips, his eyes stuck on the beige table, he vaguely listened to the conversation, trying to keep himself in, the conversation going back and forth until you giggled at something Johnny said. 

“I’m sure he is, I’m sure he’s daydreaming about this superboy.” 

Mark shocked on his coffee. 

Mark smirks, maybe he does, maybe he does have the shoulders to be the superhero they want him to be. 

But if he doesn’t ? He doesn’t care. 

That’s what he needed to figure out, that’s what has been blocking him for days after the article. Expectations from people he didn’t know, people that didn’t know him. He didn’t have anything to prove, and if he had something, it was something he had to prove to himself. 

His head tilts to the side, the skin-tight black hood only showing his eyes keeping his earbuds from falling. In his ears, the music at a low level only accompanies the street’s noise. Cars drive by, never noticing the shadow lurking at the top of a building, their wheels crush the small bits of wet pavement, a few passerby walk with their heads low towards their phone.  

Everyone looks small underneath him, he blended with the buildings, invisible but all-seeing. After rain’s fragrance tickle his senses despite the thick fabric covering his face, his upper body hangs off the wall, even like this, he’s so high no one see him.

He doesn’t fear falling, he’s confident in himself. After weeks of practice, he knows what he’s capable of. 

After a moment of observing the street’s movement, Mark decides to turn around. His back on the end of the wall, his shoulders, arms and head hanging off. He takes a breath, arms spread, eyes on the sky. It’s getting darker, he notices, the dark blue turning black as minutes go by, stars flickering in and out of his view. 

He’s excited more than afraid, the night sky going black his signal to get up and finally give it a try. His shoes kick a few rocks as he gets up, not even taking a second to brush the dust out of his hoodie. 

He’s on one of the tallest buildings, people are working underneath him, the lights never going off. Another tall building in front of him, the bank. It doesn’t have as many windows as the one he’s towering on, the pale granite looking almost grey under the artificial lights.

That’s the one he had his eyes on, taller from a few meters, he couldn’t make out the roof of the building, but that’s what he wanted. Mark’s eyes didn’t leave the end of the wall of the building, slowly taking steps further and further away. He needed to gain momentum, the steps at a rhythm, forcing his breathing at the same tempo. When the young man’s back finally touched the wall, he knew he had to do it quickly.

Quickly before he lost all confidence.

And so, he did.

Workers underneath him probably wondered what or who was walking, or rather, running on their rooftop. Running as fast, as hard as possible, he didn’t let his mind register what was happening as his right foot landed on the wall he was resting minutes before, one leg pushed his body off the building, and before his mind could understand that he was in the air without protection, he shots.

In milliseconds, the white string easily attaches itself to the wall of the bank, almost invisible yet so strong. Quickly, both his hands gripped the spider web, if he had enough force, he could do it. His arms pulled, as hard as he could, and for a split second, he swore he touched the sky.

He touched the sky, and before he could realise it, he was on the second building’s rooftop.

His back is the first one to hit the rooftop, hard and small rocks digging into his skin. It might hurt now, but everything will go fairly quickly. Furthermore, that’s not what Mark is focused on.  His body rolls for a few meters before he manages to stop himself with his hand and foot, thinking that he should probably wear gloves next time. 

Heart beating against his ribcage, he stays like this for a moment, face inches from the floor, hand firmly on the surface like he fears falling. He did it, he was on the other building. Slowly, the college student gets up, he feels even taller now, the rooftop he was standing on seconds before under him, he really did it. 

He could do anything. 

Adrenaline pumping through his veins, he looked down at the string he shot waving in the air, deciding he’s let it like this, a trace of where his night started. 

After this, Mark was unstoppable, long gone were his fears, the city was his. 

Restaurants, cafes, streets he only knew during the day looked so much more interesting from his point of view, high and proud. When his attention isn’t on the streets, mindlessly trying to find something interesting, his attention was on the skyline, jumping from rooftop to rooftop, he was getting comfortable. 

The young student stopped fearing the jump, he didn’t hesitate anymore, his reception getting cleaner, his footsteps soundless.  He could do this all Friday night, he felt a new type of freedom, something he couldn’t quite describe as he shot yet another string, the night wind puffing his sweatshirt, licking away the sweat forming on his stomach.

He could’ve stayed there all night long, if he hadn’t been stopped dead in his tracks between two smaller buildings as he was risking his way back to the campus. 

The loud sound of a door metal door stopped him at first, his shoes landed on the convenience store’s rooftop.  Although it was indeed Friday night, and most parties were still going on at this hour, he hadn’t come across any fights, at least nothing this loud. 

Before he could get a good view on the scene, he had to crouch down, on hand on the triangle-shaped roof as he tried his best to stay invisible despite the large neon sign a few meters behind him.

And that’s when he almost fell down. 

In the dark, small street was you. Clearly angry and possibly confused, Mark could see a man that definitely was not Johnny or Jaehyun standing a few meters away from you, keeping you from walking away.    Mark understood right away, but he didn’t expect any action so soon, nonetheless with someone he knew involved. 

Slightly frozen at the top, he decided he’d listen to the conversation a bit more. As selfish and pathetic as it may sound, he was scared. He didn’t see himself as a hero, at least, not yet. 

“Your phone, your wallet. Quick.”, the men said, Mark couldn’t see his face, he was more focused on you anyways. 

“I’m not giving you anything.”, you snapped back, Mark was worried you’d get yourself in trouble even more, his guts screaming at him to jump in and take the man down. 

“It wasn’t a question.”, clearly, the tallest wasn’t finding any of this funny, he probably also wasn’t planning on you not giving in so easily.  Menacing, he took a few steps closer, enough that your body automatically took a step back, the back door of the club and the end of the street growing further away. 

“Listen up, slut.”, he started, and as soon as you saw his hand raising, you reacted out of impulse. You were scared, yes, but as a broke student, you couldn’t just give him your phone and your wallet, just most of your life in them. The bottle you didn’t even sip on in your hand found the wall, the glass breaking easily. 

Mark’s eyebrows shot up, being almost full, the liquid in the bottle splashed all over the wall, wetting the side of your top and your shoes. Probably in survival mode, you didn’t care much, you just knew that the now broken bottle would be as sharp as a knife, enough to threaten and defend yourself if needed. 

That’s when Mark almost fell backwards, his back falling straight on the green neon light of the store. If the obvious shadow wasn’t enough, the loud noise that came with the impact finished to give away his hiding spot. 

The robber turned around, surprised as he didn’t find anyone standing behind him. You, on the other hand, wished you’ve had the reflex to hit the men as he was distracted, but how could you when a shadowy figure that somewhat looked familiar jumped from god knows where. 

You swore you didn’t drink, no one slipped anything in your drink, yet you couldn’t quite believe your eyes when this person, who looked like he materialized in front of you gave a straight punch in the other men’s face, knocking him out for a few seconds. 

A gasp left your lips as you backed away completely against the wall, the broken bottle glass falling from your grip and you swear, you swear you almost lost your mind.  The men quickly got up, the difference in sizes was obvious, he towered over your new saver, but the masked one’s next move had the power to freeze you completely. 

His hand lifted, with nothing in it, and in a second, something shot from his silhouette. You couldn’t really see it, but a moment, the tall one was ready to knock the both of you out, the moment after, the was firmly held by something on the wall. 

The large, white substance was covering his body, he could struggle and move, he was stuck. A groan escaped his lips, kicking his shoes on the floor. 

“Who are you, what the fuck is that ?”, anger was clear in his voice, but apparently your new hero didn’t want to deal with this. His hand lifted a second time, the same stringy thing, this time aimed towards the men’s face.  Touching his forehead at full impact, his head harshly crashed against the wall, surely knocking him out for a few hours. 

The questions he asked kept running in your head, the adrenaline keeping you from thinking straight, but one thing was sure, he was the one articles were talking about.  The realisation finally hit your brain, your mouth agape as he turned around. You weren’t surprised when you saw he was wearing a black and thick fabric over his face, his face contoured under the material like he was about to say something before he stopped himself. 

 You couldn’t move, too scared, too shocked, his thumb and index formed an o, silently asking you if you were ok. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m okay.”, you finally breathed, “Thank you.”

He stared at you for a second, your eyes locked and you couldn’t help but wonder where you saw those eyes. His dark brown eyes were a window to his emotions, you didn’t need to see his face to understand that he was strangely really concerned, almost scared.  Maybe he understood that he was staring, he slowly nodded, apparently, he didn’t want to talk and didn’t know how to communicate with his hands. Shooting you a thumbs up, he ended up holding his hand a bit up, palms towards you, like he was asking you to slow down, probably telling you to be careful. 

You nodded again, every one of your braincells had left your brain at this very moment, you couldn’t believe what you just saw, you couldn’t believe the sight in front of you. “Who are you ?”, you finally asked, like he was going to give you his name just like that.

He didn’t answer, he didn’t have the time before your phone started ringing. Both you and Mark recognised the special ringtone for Johnny. Without thinking, you picked up with a trembling hand, you almost forgot where you were but seeing your friend’s name on you phone only made you want to get back to security as soon as possible. 

“Yeah Johnny, I’m outside, please com-”, you started, before the masked men retreated. “No ! Wait !”, you screamed out, but he was too quick, climbing the wall of the club like it was some simple stairs he was going up. And just like that, he disappeared. 

“Look! Look, look, look, look !”, you jumped on your seat, leaving your phone screen up on the table. Jaehyun quickly looked at it, before resting his back on his chair, torn between getting annoyed and laughing at your attitude. On your phone, was an article about the night you almost got robbed and got saved by “Spiderman”, the name you and a few other people gave him, slowly starting to take off.

You were lightly featured in the article, this wasn’t what you cared about, you cared more about the encounter, you never thought you’d see someone with powers with your own two eyes, you could hardly wrap your head around the fact that they existed. For days now, you were almost obsessed, you needed to thank him, weirdly, you didn’t remember doing it. 

Sadly for your friends, there was hardly a day without you talking about him, hardly a day where you didn’t try to understand who he was, how he became like this.

Sadly for your friends, especially for Mark. 

Oh, how he didn’t know where to put himself. He knew you’d talk about it, a little bit, but not that much. 

“Do you think he’s a student here ?”, you asked, you eyes going scanning your three friends’ faces. Mark dodged the question, shrugging his shoulders before going back to his book. 

“Most likely, yes.”, Johnny though, answered. If Jaehyun was slightly annoyed by the new obsession, Johnny, on the other hand, was getting into the entire conspiracy mood. After all, the mysterious man was the one who saved his friend when he wasn’t around, he almost felt like he owed him something.

“That’s such a weird power, though.”, Jaehyun said, stretching his legs until they were resting on your lap. Dropping you flashcards on him, you continued as he only added oil to the fire. 

“Right? I don’t think he chose this power. No one would pick this out of everything, right ?” 

“Do you think it was like, an accident ?”, Johnny asked, Mark sunk down on the sofa, bringing his book higher to hide his face. He had been reading the same phrase for the past hour, he couldn’t concentrate with his three closest friends unknowingly speculating about him. He couldn’t either deal with the fact that he didn’t tell you, he couldn’t now. He felt like it was too late.

“What do you think, Mark ?”, you asked. No matters how much you hated admitting it months ago, you knew Mark, and seeing him so out and distant was out of the ordinary. The young men usually was one of the mood makers, his loud laughs never failed to grab attention and make you follow his attitude, it didn’t take you long to understand that something was off. 

When Jaehyun was on your left, Mark was on your right, easy to reach, your fingers snapped in front of his eyes. 

“What ?”, he finally asked, making it feel like you didn’t hear his voice for hours. Both Johnny and Jaehyun had caught his odd behaviour and reaction, “His powers, what do you think he can do ?”, you asked a second time. 

“I, ugh-…I don’t know.”, he mumbled, avoiding any eye contact, his attention focusing on a random heart drawing he couldn’t memorize. Even in a bad mood, and you never really saw Mark in a bad mood, not this bad, he’d never avoid such a topic.  Mark Lee had always been kind of a nerd, he would bring comics to class, he’d get pretty excited when a new hero would break out. 

“Are you ok ?”, you finally asked, the question sounding more like a threat than anything else to the young leo. Silence was forced in the room, three pair of eyes waiting for an answer that should normally be obvious and given without a second thought. Was he ok? He didn’t really himself, to be honest. A few days prior, he was confident in himself and almost flying between buildings, now guilt and stress were the only things clouding his mind.

“Yeah, I’m ok. Just stressed.”, he shrugged, thinking he’d be able to go back to trying to work with such an answer. What he wasn’t ready for, though, was your hand on his shoulder. In a millisecond, electricity ran down his spine as he finally looked over his book. The small smile and sweet look in your eyes was one you’d usually give to your two other friends, but he definitely wasn’t used to this. 

“Don’t stress, you’ll do just fine, I promise.”, you finally tell, to which the two other agree, a series of nods and, “You will, don’t worry.”, follow your sentence. 

For the first time in a while, Mark feels small, tiny butterflies in his stomach, a pink hue creeping on his high cheeks.  See, the young men felt accepted in the friend group, something he hadn’t felt since junior high, most likely. None of you knew, but Mark needed the encouragements, more than ever. A small smile crept on his lips as he thanked you, any memories of your old bickerings long gone. Finally, the mood settled down, as everyone seemed to go back to their studies, the leo’s mind somewhat calmer. 

“Anyways, I need to find a way to thank Spiderman.” 

Great.

"How stubborn are you ?”, your classmate Renjun asks, pushing the cubes of ice in his cup with his bright green staw. The sound gets drowned by the hubbub on the park you two are studying in. Or at least you are, eyes trying to adjust to the bright sun as you read your art book under a tree, few students passing by. 

“Very.”, you answer, tapping your pencil on your book, not taking a break from the small annotations you’ve been making. Yes, you were very stubborn, and you’ve been since your childhood. Weeks after the accident outside the club, the “encounter”, as you call it, you’re still determined to see him again, the hooded and mysterious young men almost everyone call spiderman. 

“It’s been weeks. You don’t even know who he is, where he is.”, pointed Renjun, like you’ve never heard it before, you’ve heard it from Jaehyun, Johnny, Yerim, everyone.  Sipping on his too cold iced tea, he coughed a moment as you roll your eyes, frowning at your book. 

“And ? He’s still on the campus, people saw him yesterday.”, you tell him, pouting. Putting emphasis on the last word, you almost sounded like a really dedicated fan of a still sketchy and unknown hero. But you weren’t lying, he did appear last night, Friday again. Almost flying between buildings in the chilling night, shooting spiderwebs after spiderwebs. 

 Actually, he appeared multiple times during the last weeks. Pictures clearer and clearer, it seemed like people were going out, hoping to get a glimpse of him, get the best picture yet. He always seemed to appear at night, during the weekends, but some people still managed to get some good, though grainy shots.  Average height and skinny was what you could see from the series of pictures. “That means I still have a chance to bump into him.” 

More and more, people stopped being septics, theories flying left and right on social medias, but no one really knew who was the masked student. 

“Just to thank him ?”, your friend asked, raising one of his dark eyebrows. Giving up on your book, you looked up as he spoke. 

“Yes, just to thank him.”

Saying it out loud almost made you sound ridiculous…Were you ridiculous? You just really wanted to thank him, in person and without the adrenaline that probably made you lose all of your words last time. Plus, the way he seemed so surprised as well, and how familiar his aura was only pulled you even more in.

“You’re unbelievable.” Renjun sighed, sipping on the last drops of his overpriced tea, making your crunch your nose at the noise. “So, what’s your plan ?” 

You chuckled. You don’t have one. 

“At least try and have some fun.”, Renjun visibly pouts, at least you think he is. The dim, red light of the club isn’t helping your vision at all, eyes tired from hours upon hours on the computer. Turning your attention to your friend, you sigh against your glass, the taste of the non-alcoholised drink you ordered still lingering on your lips, the loud music isn’t helping either when you try to respond. “I’m not here to have fun!”, you’re growing more and more annoyed by the minute, you’ve been here for an hour or so but it feels like you’ve been sitting here for far more, shoe unconsciously tapping on the club’s floor as all your friends dance to the beat of the song. Needless to say, your sentence didn’t make much sense in such a setting.  This seems to be the last straw for your friend, who, you have to say, you’ve been putting through a lot, frustration clear on his face as he sits down in the booth, just a table filled with bottles and glasses between the two of you. “You’re way too focused and obsessed with this thing.” He’s right, you know he is, but it doesn’t stop you from looking down at your half-full drink, swirling the liquid around with a finger, one side of your brain refusing to understand his very rational point of view.  “Come on, let’s dance a bit ? Even if you don’t see him tonight, it’s not a big deal.”

Once again, he’s right. Even if you don’t see him tonight, it shouldn’t be a big deal, it shouldn’t affect your mood nor your night, it really shouldn’t. But see, aside from thanking him, there’s something else that really is bugging you, the more you think about it, the more it’s suspicious, but the more it feels like you’re being paranoid, delusional.  How familiar he was, you didn’t mention it, it was just a feeling and didn’t think much about it, but now that his identity was a big, red question on everyone’s lips, you truly couldn’t push the thought aside.  Maybe it was someone from your class, someone you came across while going to one of your classes, you didn’t know and Renjun didn’t let you think more about it, slender fingers wrapping around your wrist to force you on the dancefloor. 

You can’t spot Johnny, probably dancing somewhere else and out of your vision or, knowing him, taking shots at the crowded bar. Jaehyun wasn’t there, nor was Mark, the first needed to get back home, while the second needed to study for upcoming tests. 

Not having half of your group did feel weird, especially on Friday nights and weekends. But, you understood that Jaehyun was pretty homesick and needed to recharge with his family, while Mark seemed to get back to his old self and tried as best as he could to regain his first place, nothing exceptional. 

“I need some fresh air, I’ll be back soon, alright ?”, you finally tell Renjun. Fuck it, you needed to get over it, eventually, all of this would get unhealthy way too quickly.  Pushing through bodies, you quickly walked along the painted walls of the club, lights flashing and dancing on the dark colour, easily finding the door to the exit. 

One push of the door and the chilly air of this Friday night rushed on your body, licking away the thin layer of sweat that had gathered near your hairline. Outside, the campus’ streets are animated despite the cold weather, groups of friends meeting before a week of midterms. 

It’s crazy how a bit of fresh air managed to clear your mind, filling your chest before you let the fog form in front of your tinted lips. You have to correct your own posture, back straight, head high, rolling your shoulders, bones screaming from your bad postures.  Walking away from the building, you take a few steps on the main street, wandering aimlessly until you’d cleared your mind, gradually managing to think about something else that isn’t him.  But it seemed your mind wouldn’t be left peaceful for long, the world wasn’t so good on you. 

It takes a few seconds for your ears to peak up the loud screaming from afar. At first, your ears peak up, only registering how loud they’re being before understanding that a fight is taking place some meters away from you. Screams and words you can barely make out, it’s clear both parties are already pretty intoxicated, both it seems nothing physical started, yet.  Humans are curious by nature, and it shows when a few people gathered around the two drunk students, you included, walking a bit closer. Only, when you see exactly who’s arguing do you drop your curiousness to worry and fear, you didn’t recognise Johnny right away, thinking he was still in the club. But without a doubt, there he is, his leather jacket gone as his tall and impressive figure towers and walks towards the unknown second party. 

“Come on, touch me!”, the stranger taunted your close friend. If there’s one thing you rapidly figured out about Johnny, it’s that, when he was sober, the brunette wasn’t quite aware of his strength. A lot like a puppy who grew up too fast and wasn’t accommodated to his grown body. Drunk Johnny, on the other side, wasn’t afraid of acting recklessly, and it made you fear for the unknowing partygoer. 

A small crowd had formed around them, mostly cheering on, blindly pushing the fight to go on. You couldn’t let it take place, you couldn’t let it happen.  In his drunken state, Johnny gave in, fist clenched in a way you knew he’d throw it at any second, your heartbeat picked up and before you knew it, your body threw itself between the two men, not thinking twice. In seconds, you couldn’t really process the multiple shouts of your friend’s name tumbling from your lips as you desperately tried to push his body away. Somehow, you find yourself behind him, tugging at the plain white shirt he chose to wear, hands gripping the fabric. 

Most likely because of the alcohol and adrenaline running through his veins, Johnny didn’t pay any attention to you, trying to reach the stranger again and again. 

“Hit me, hit me!”, obnoxious and way too cocky for his own good, the second party you quickly learned was named “Jinyeon”, was free of his movements and quickly getting railed up.  You couldn’t hold onto Johnny for so long, it seemed no one was really trying to actively break the fight, leaving you alone. Your grip on his shirt was quickly slipping away, your desperate voice calling for your friend again and again, but it seemed you couldn’t get past his drunken mind.  And, just as your fingertips were letting go of your friend, a promise of a fight you couldn’t stop after it’d start, Jiyeon’s screams stopped. 

For a few seconds only, before his drunken swears were directed towards someone else, someone you knew too well.  Red hood mask, a collective gasp and whispers followed the appearance of the one and only campus superhero. Visibly, he liked popping out of nowhere, you didn’t even fully register his presence before he was standing between the two dunk fighters.  Despite his smaller figure, he didn’t need to use any strength to stop the fight at once, both with the surprise he caused and by the string of spider web that stuck Jiyeon’s hands together. 

“What the fuck is that ?”, he screamed, desperately trying to get the unknown substance away from him, his watered-down senses causing him to tumble backwards. Only then, did his friends walked out of the crowd, finally deciding to put an end to everything as they helped him regain his balance and walk a bit away.  You, on the other hand, was stunned, to say the least. Your hands had flopped down to your side, it seemed the mere apparition of Spiderman had managed to sobber Johnny down enough that he didn’t try to throw a fit and mimicked your moves, arms falling at his sides with an open mouth. 

“You need to calm down.”, second, or maybe the third shock of the day, you didn’t really count. The hooded hero spoke, but his voice was audibly altered, making him sound almost like a robot, a layer of autotune on his original voice.  Lips parted, you watched as he hesitantly walked towards Johnny, a clear opposite to how confident he was when he restrained Jiyeon’s hands. 

“Are you okay ?”, he spoke again, body language visibly thorn between two extremes, only when Johnny nodded did his shoulders flop down, nodding to himself. 

“Are you ?”, you asked yourself, finally processing the entire situation. It felt surreal, you never thought you’d have to stop a fight, nor a fight with one of your closest friend. 

“Yeah. I need to walk a bit.”, was the only thing he said, taking a few steps away from you as his heart-beat slowed down. 

“And…And you ?”, it almost made you jump back when your attention turned from Johnny to the campus’ hero, he had walked a bit closer, fingers tugging at his gloves.  Finally, you took a long look at his appearance, he was just like in the pictures, still wearing the same hoodie and mask over his face. Only then, did it hit you.  There was your chance to thank him ! 

You probably had a weird expression on your face, his face lolled to the side, a small gasp left your lips. You almost touched his arm, but had to restrain yourself from getting too much into his private bubble. “Y-Yeah! Do you remember me ?” You couldn’t believe your own voice, almost shy and quivering, pearly teeth biting down on your lower lip. 

He took a few seconds to respond, for you, it seemed like he was searching back in his memories. After all, he saw you once in a dark street, a weeks ago. 

What you don’t know, is that Mark, under his thick mask, debates fainting amnesia, he really does. He recalls starting a phrase two times, before vomiting out a string of words like an awkward teenage boy on a first date. “I-Uh, yeah. I remember you.”

Oh, how Mark doesn’t know why his palms get sweaty even when they’re covered with gloves, nor why his heartbeat picks up now, when it didn’t while breaking the fight up, fight that included one of his close friends. Mark doesn’t know why his words get mushed in his brain, or why his mouth goes dry.  He’s too focused on trying to understand why to comprehend what you’re saying, he sees your lips moving, he hears, but his brain doesn’t process. 

“What ?”, he asks, almost feeling guilty for not listening to you, but he sees you giggling for a second, maybe because the whole conversation seems funny with his autotuned voice. 

“I wanted to thank you for the last time.”, you say again, a giddy smile taking over your features, one Mark decides he likes why more than the worried and scared look you had on your face moments before he arrived. Did he have the power to give you that smile, he only wondered for a quarter second. 

“Oh, no worries. You don’t have to thank me twice.”, Mark smiles under his mask, of course, your stubborn mind wouldn’t let go.  “No real-. Twice ?”, the way your face grows red in embarrassment makes him giggle, in autotune again, causing you to laugh at both him and yourself. “I was sure I didn’t the first time.”

“No worries ! Just, keep the gossiping down from now on.”, Mark wanted his phrase lighthearted and was ready to fly away with that, not giving you time to register what he said before he turned his back to you and, within a second or so, managed to shoot a string of web to a building and swing away as quickly as he came.  Leaving you alone, the weird feeling bubbling in your stomach left as rapidly when your mind connected two dots. Gossip ? How did he know about your gossiping about him…? He couldn’t have ears everywhere, of…did he ?  And that’s how, in the middle of a cold street, surrounded by tipsy friday night partygoers, your eyes grew twice their size. That’s how, with one sentence he probably didn’t think through, you unmasked Spiderman, you unmasked Mark Lee. 

You don’t know what entity took over you, but it craves closure, and a good shot to drown everything. 

When these two dots connected, you never felt so dumb in your entire life. Everything made sense, in a way, yet you needed a clear proof, or else you were going crazy.  The voice, the body language, the corpulence, the unending awkwardness every time the subject was brought up. That’s why he seemed so familiar, because it was Mark, someone you’ve know your entire life. How dumb you must’ve looked when he was hiding under his mask.  Even, why has he hiding this from you, from Johnny and Jaehyun of all people ? Or did they know ? And you were the only one in pure secret and ignorance ? You thought you two made up, but if he told your two friends and not you, it was clear the friendship you felt between the two of you was one sided.  And somehow, this hurts a bit too much. You blamed it on the trust you had finally given him, the multiple efforts you’ve made to go along, and nothing else. Yet, the confusion was a bit too intense, and it drove you to his dorm door. 

Lucky for Mark, he didn’t forget to lock his door. Lucky for you, dealing with three chaotic and forgetful guys means you can pick a lock. After all, it’s a simple dorm, your old credit card is enough to dislodge the small piece of metal and let you enter.  It’s dark inside, curtains pulled to the side, streets lights helping you adapt to the lack of light. For some reason, your eyes linger on his bed, it’s neatly made and you don’t have to fear that he’s sleeping under the covers.  Faint smell of his earthy cologne floats in the air as you fully enter the room and close the door behind you, locking itself in a second.  Now what ? Adrenaline brought you there and now what ? Feet dragging on the floor, you didn’t dare turn the light on. One hand softly brushing his blanket, your first thought goes to his desk. Surely, if there’s something to find, it must be here. Mark’s laptop lays there, closed but from the faint light, still on.  What are you doing ? You ask yourself a few times, you’re either crazy for thinking that your friend’s the neighbourhood superhero, or you’re crazy for snooping in your friend’s room.  Fuck it, now that you’re here, might as well clench your curiosity before Mark comes back from where ever he is.  One finger is enough to lift the screen, light pouring in the room, almost blinding you at how bright it is.  Your eyes take a few moments to adapt to the digital screen, your university’s page on the screen. The headline’s about Spiderman, you bite your lip before leaving your fingers on the touch pad.  It’s not a clear proof, maybe he’s just searching or reading about him. Mark has always been a huge superhero fan anyways.  Exiting the page doesn’t unleash more information either, the laptop’s clean, nothing special. His biology paper is here, multiple pages into it, notes here and there. After closing every page, guilt washes over you. His laptop wallpaper faces you, forces you into rethinking your actions, a selfie Johnny took a few weeks ago with your whole group in it. You smile brightly between him and Mark, both of them throwing peace signs as they usually do.  Who would’ve thought you’d end up as Mark Lee’s wallpaper, definitely not junior high school you.  You take a few seconds to regain yourself, guilt builds up alongside the stress you didn’t know you had, grabbing at your throat. Only now do you feel like running away, red alarms going off in your head as your head screams that Mark could enter at any moment.  Another side of your brain tells you to search a bit more, your hand goes down his open drawer and you feel around, not thinking that you might come across something weird, being in a boy’s room.  “What are you looking for ?”

The voice seems to come out of nowhere, you jump on your spot, the back of your hand hitting the wood of his desk. Turning back around, your mind goes blank, empty, no thought’s you’d even say. But you can clearly feel your ears getting red as you face none other than Mark Lee.  The young adult’s standing in the middle of his room, the cold breeze of the night coming in by the open window. Fuck, you didn’t even here it opening, how did he get it so quietly ? The light’s still off, but you can clearly see his mask in his fist, gloved fingers clenching it. Spiderman’s mask.  Yet again, your mind has two reactions.  “Mark…”, voice small, you just got caught red headed. He’s probably going to kick you out and tell Johnny and Jaehyun you’re crazy. Your throat goes dry as he doesn’t say anything, lips a straight line, eyebrows slightly furrowed.  He’s speechless, something you never thought he could be. The brunette shakes his head lightly, looking down and preventing you from seeing his face anymore, and there you decide you hate not being able to look into his eyes. As he moves his head from left to right, like he’s trying to shake himself awake, you notice his brown locks, sticking in different directions.  Mark disregards his mask on his bed, like a rag doll, lifeless on the white covers. 

“Mark ?!”, you voice calls him again, you dare address him again after being caught in such a sticky situation. He hisses, maybe sighs, you don’t really know. It’s the confirmation you needed, you were right. Your voice’s high pitched, shock clear in your voice. You know he knows, he knows you know. Thoughts, chaotic in both heads, yet no words are spoken. 

“Don’t tell anyone.”, is what he says first, voice soft and almost weak, you understand he’s exhausted and almost feel bad for making him deal with you, this, after a night of -what you think is- fighting small crimes and keeping peace on the campus.  You take a step back, you don’t know why. Maybe because realisation just hits you a second time without giving you a proper time out. He didn’t tell anyone, and you foolishly assumed he told Johnny and Jaehyun, you knowingly questioned your friendship with him. 

Maybe you stayed silent for a bit too long, the student finally dares looking at you like he’s the one trespassing, calling your name. 

“They don’t know ?”, you finally articulate, mouth putty, like you desperately need water. “They” doesn’t need to be defined, both you and Mark know who you’re talking about. All he does is shake his head no again, before letting his body fall on his bed.  Your mouth hangs open for seconds, like a fish. You feel like you just forcefully robbed someone from a huge secret, which, you’ve done. When you thought weight would’ve been lifted up from your shoulders, it just adds on. 

“Oh.”, is all your mind can find. It’s all you can say. What do you even do ? Tell him you had suspicions and decided to break into his bedroom ? 

“Yeah.”, silence feels the room. Awkward, tense, you’d be able to cut it with a knife, pierce through it with a needle. Strings in your heart pull and inevitably break when you remember last time such a silence took place with Mark was before you two met Johnny and Jaehyun and silently decided to get along. 

“I-.”, you try, but before a mix of different phrases and words can escape your mouth like a river, Mark stops you. 

“When did you find out ?”, he asks. He’s visibly stressed, fingers playing together before he eventually throws his gloves next to his mask, right leg moving up and down. You hate being the cause of this. 

“When we were outside.”, you finally find your words, pearly teeth repeatedly biting down on your -probably- red bottom lip. You had to lean against his desk, knees weak. “When you said to stop with the gossiping.” 

In another situation, it would be comical, how his pretty brown eyes widen in realisation, just like yours did. His palms rub his face and he audibly groans, a small “fuck”, tumbling from his lips. 

“I don’t even remember saying it.”, he confessed with a speechless laugh. Hearing it helps you relax the slightest bit, he doesn’t sound bitter, just dumbfounded. He says silent after that, though his eyes never leave your figure and you understand he wants to know more. 

“Then-…Then it just clicked, you know. The voice, the body language.”, -You’ve known each other for years- you wanted to add, but decided against it for the moment. The young superhero only nods, looking to the side for a moment. 

“So you decided to break in.”

It clearly wasn’t a question, more like another dumbfounded, almost hurt observation. You shift on your feet, balancing your weight from one side to the other, really, you look like a child who just got caught stealing candy before dinner. 

“I’m sorry, I just-…I thought-…I thought you told them and not me…”, your voice gets quieter as you speak, if you could, you’d disappear in thin air alongside your embarrassment. Eyes on the floor, you miss how his eyes get bigger, before shifting under his frowning eyebrows.  You’re ready for another row of uncomfortable silence, but Mark has too much to say to let it go so easily. 

A gasp leaves his lips when he registers what you just told him, his bed shifting as he stands up. The young men’s sudden move catches you off guard, your eyes taking in his figure as he smoothly lifts his left hand towards the wall on your right.  There, you clearly witness his powers for the first time. From what you assume is his wrist, the brunette shoots a sting of spider web. It’s so fast you almost miss it, but the substance lands on the light switch, turning the light bud on immediately. 

You’re almost blinded by the light, taking seconds to adjust to the sudden change. You understand that he’s mad, maybe even disappointed. You, yourself, are disappointed with yourself. you could’ve taken the issue in such a different way, but now was too late.  

“You really thought I wouldn’t tell you ?”, the disappointment, clear in his voice, has the power to pull at your heart for some reason.  You don’t even know how to answer. Yes ? You thought he didn’t. 

“N-No…It’s just that-”, your throat tightens, oh how you hate this feeling, your heart starts pumping faster, lips going dry.

“Don’t lie to me, you thought I told them and not you. Who do you think I am ?”, 

“I’m sorry, I don’t-”, that’s when you finally dare to look up at him, cutting your sentence halfway. With the lack of light, you didn’t notice the cuts on your friend. Blood on the corner of his lips, a small cut on his cheek, it’s your turn to furrow your eyebrows. Your eyes travel down, so does Mark’s. His knuckles are bruised, a deep shade of purple on his milky skin. 

You feel gutted, it hits you. He is Spiderman, he puts himself in danger, he could get severely hurt everytime he flies out his window. 

“What happened ?”, you’re almost on the verge of tears at this point, bottom lip trembling as Mark looks up at the ceiling, a deep sigh expanding his chest.

“Had to break another fight.”, he simply says, like it’s nothing. 

Your heart tightens, you don’t want to cry, not now. Blinking your tears away, you almost manage to escape the discussion, turning around to clumsily fumble with the papers laying on his desk. “Do you have anything to clean yourself up ?” 

From the sound his bed makes, he probably sat down again, letting his body fall on his covers with another sigh. “Under the desk, in the white bag.”  You have to clear your throat, nod slightly as you bend down and take the said bag. 

“We’re friends.”, he finally tells you as you seat next to him, and oh how guilty you feel. From all the times you, him and your two other friends hung out in his very room, you don’t remember Mark’s bed being this small. You have to move closer anyways, one of your knees against his thigh as you face him. You look down and get busy with the first aid box, it seems he used it a few times already and you can’t help but picture him, in the dead of the night, having to clean his cuts and bruises when his friends think he’s peacefully asleep. 

“Look at me.” His voice’s softer, he probably knows you could cry at any point now. You do as you’re told after letting a few drops of liquid soak a cotton ball, finding yourself looking right into his brown eyes. 

“We’re friend, right ?”, this time, he asks, and you almost laugh and sob at the same time, a breathy sound coming from your lips. Mark sounds like a small kid on the first day of school trying to make friends, maybe a bit like when you two first met. 

“We’re friends.”, you tell both him and yourself before lightly tapping the cotton on his cheek, he smiles, your heart flutters. The young superhero doesn’t move, he doesn’t even acknowledge what you think would at least be a small sting. “Doesn’t hurt ?” 

“Why do you sound disappointed ?”, he asks with a laugh, one sound you like way better. “Small cuts heal quickly. The whole power thing, y’know.”

“Oh.”, is the only thing you’re able to let out, unconsciously leaning closer to rub at the cut, who you discover is just a bloodstain now. A pout on your lips, you have to look at his cheek a little bit closer. “Lucky.”

“Yeah.”, he says softly, but lets you finish your job anyways. Soon enough, his skin is clean, and as he said, there’s no cut underneath. You don’t think anyone knows about this side of his power, after all, the university’s newspaper doesn’t know a lot either, feeding itself from witnesses. 

“Thank you.”, you finally tell him, voice hushed as prepare another cotton. 

“Hm ?”

“For not getting mad and y’know…Kicking me out.”, you don’t look at him, turning your attention towards another cotton ball you soak in product now that you know it won��t hurt him. He laughs at that, air fanning over your face, you smile. 

“You could’ve, I don’t know. Threw me out the window. Covered my body with spider webs. Or- Can you bite ?” Mark laughs again, genuinely amused by your small monologue, so amused he doesn’t notice your fingers under his chin, nor does he notice how naturally he lets his face rest in the palm of your hand. 

“I can, but it won’t do anything special.” 

“Hm, interesting. Making a mental note for the school’s newspaper.” you joke, the mood is a lot less tense, Mark has this everlasting tired smile on his rosy lips, dusty cheeks and lazy eyes as he silently watches you. 

“Shut up.”, he breathes out, and you don’t answer to that. Finally, the silence that takes place isn’t as awkward or strange as it was, you press the cotton ball at the corner of his lips when he decided to shut up and stop talking, your heartbeat quickens. 

“Ouch!”, he whines as soon as the liquid touches his skin, visibly flinching away from your hand. “Oh, fuck, sorr-”, lips parted, eyes wide, you fumble to find a clean cotton ball in hopes of whipping the excess. 

“-m joking ! Y/N, I’m okay, I was just joking.”. No matters how many hours you spent with the brunette, or how many years you’ve known him, you won’t ever get his humour sometimes. Shooting him a death stare, hands still deep in his first aid kit, you’re the one who frowns. “Why would you do that, fuck.”

“This one’s because you wanted to tell on the school’s news, you snitch.”

“I was jok-”, you’d rather not finish your sentence, by the way he’s looking at you and smiling a bit too much for a bruised man, you know he just wants to annoy you. Fuck it, you have to grip his cute face in your hand for him to stop moving every minute. Rising on your knees, the lack of light makes you tilt his face upwards to get a better view. “Wait, don’t move.”, high school you would throw up as you move one of your knees, planting it between his legs, your palms get sweaty. 

“Let me take care of you, hm ?”, the sentence cames out a lot quieter than you wanted it to be, but after all, you’re close enough that the whisper rings in his ears, you have a lump in your throat. Mark’s lips part, just for him to close his mouth less than a second after, and he visibly swallows.

“O-oh, yeah. Okay.”, and that’s when you understand. That’s when you understand how close the two of you are and yet, you don’t pull back, you don’t really want to. His body heat and perfume strangely seem to calm you down. You’re almost body to body, you feel him breathe, you feel him move his legs the slightest bit under you, you see his pupils grow a bit more. 

The honey brown of his eyes seems to disappear, and you can’t decide if it’s because of you, or because of the lack of light in his small dorm. 

You don’t dare think it’s because of you, could it be ? You don’t know yours are as blown as his, and it’s definitely not because of his room’s darkness. 

Two clueless kids.  You press the cotton a second time on the corner of his lip, gentle as you clean the blood. He still has the habit of biting his lip, you think to yourself. He almost looks like he wore a cheer coat of lipstick, uneven and blood red. Soon enough, you’re cleaning nothing, simply stroking as you stare down.  

When did he become so attractive ? It’s when you catch yourself asking yourself this very question that you decide it’s time to back away, his scent and the warmth of his body does nothing but pull you in even more and you don’t think you can deal with that at this very moment. 

Mark, on the other hand, thinks something else.  As you’re about to pull away, completely detach your body from his and hopefully shake the haze he pulled you in out of your mind, his own hand gently wraps under your jaw. It’s a firm, yet delicate grip you can’t register right away because milliseconds later, his lips crash against your own. It starts off hesitant, trembling and unsure lips against your bottom lip. He tastes like the melon lollipops he likes so much, no signs of iron from the blood previously on the corner of his lips. For a moment, Mark doesn’t move, Mark almost pulls away when he realizes what he’s doing. 

He’s kissing you, the young hero doesn’t remember the first time he thought about actually doing it, that’s how long the brunette has been wanting it. It’s when his lips detach from your own, scared he crossed the line that you chase after him. You chase after his lips, you’re scared of it being a one time thing, you want more than the small kiss he dared to give you. Taking advantage of your position, your hand sneaks behind his head, fingers already finding purpose in his hair, tilting his head back as you dive in.

Clumsily, your mouth moves against his own, capturing his bottom lip. Your knees grow weak, body shivering when his hands dare to hold your hips. He’s unsure, hands resting on your hip bones, scared to move without your approval. You give it clearly once you softly bite on his bottom lip. The brunette quietly gasps against your mouth, and you dare to present your tongue, the pink muscle meeting his own in a breathless, wet, kiss.  Out of breath, you both have to pull away. Your reddish lips reflect his own, matching glossy eyes, it’s probably then that Mark loses it and pushes aside his shyness around you. Quickly, his fingers hook around the belt loops of your jeans, using his grip on the clothing piece to force your body down.  Your knees don’t need more to let your body fall onto his lap, or rather, his thigh. Strong and firm under your core, it takes all your will not to desperately grind on him, but your body aches to do it already.

“Waited so fucking long to do this.”, he confessed against the skin of your neck, dragging his lips on the side. His words make you blush a bit too hard, blooming flowers in your heart, your fingers tighten their grip on his locks. Such a simple gesture, yet it managed to make your old enemy moan, a stained sound he tried to hide by busying himself on your neck, painting dark petals. He sucks lightly there, and with this action only, it’s your turn to moan out. It’s a breathy sound, but it gets Mark so worked up his hands slide to the small of your back, resting just above your ass.

“You should’ve done it sooner.”, you tease him a bit, he can’t see the small smile on your face, but he definitely notices when your hips drag themselves against his thigh, losing your self-control. Another simple gesture, driven by pure lust, but it gets Mark’s eyes wide, his jeans a lot less comfortable. He groans, it comes deep from his chest, fuck it, he thinks.

Suddenly, he’s on top of you. Your mind’s so hyper focused on him that you follow his movement when he leans forward. Your back softly hits his bed, hair spreading on his pillow in a halo, the neighbourhood hero’s eyes linger for a moment on the two purple marks he left on your untouched skin, he decides he wants nothing more than to ruin you while having your body as close as possible to his.

“Pretty.”, it’s a simple murmur, so quiet you almost missed it, his right thumb softly draws circles on the two purple petals he left, like he couldn’t believe he was the creator, his left hand pinned just next to your head to support himself. You smile at yourself at the soft manner, but your smile quickly drops to have your lips parted when his thumb moves across, his hand now fully wrapped around your neck.

It gets your skin burning, legs closing for some relief as you feel yourself getting wetter, and Mark certainly notices your body’s reaction. Mark, or someone else. You don’t really know who’s facing you when his lips tug upwards in a devilish smirk, you’ll understand after that his newly found powers also brought a bag of confidence. “Fuck”, is all you’re able to mutter when his grip slightly tightens. He doesn’t even restrict your air canal, but it’s enough for you to understand what he’s thinking about.

“Mark.”, you call out, voice so small he just hums with another knowing smile. “Touch me.”, and it’s all he needs. Slowly, ever so slowly, his lowers his body towards you, making it harder for you to breathe. Resting on his forearm, his eyes never leave your face, he details every feature like he won’t see you ever again after this, he looks at you like he can’t get enough. You, actually do the same. You never noticed how cute his nose looked, small and button-like. However, you noticed how sharp his eyes looked, but never how one of his eyelids was more defined, or how good his new undercut looked.

Arms linked behind his head, you bite down on your bottom lip when Mark uses his knee to part your legs a little more, enough for him to get comfortable between your thighs. This time, it’s your turn to initiate the kiss, bringing his face towards yours with your arms. He’s more than happy to bend under your needs, smiling softly against you as he kisses you back.

This time it isn’t as hesitant, his lips dance at a rhythm you match perfectly, diving deeper before meeting your tongue again. You could easily get addicted to the taste and feeling, his saliva coats your taste buds when he licks into your mouth. It’s an exchange that gets sloppy, messy. Sighs, moans, and a whimper from you when finally, finally, his fingers toy with the button of your jeans.

“Can I ?”, he asks already knowing the answer, his forehead against your own. Throat dry, you nod quickly, so quickly it’s almost funny. Your hips rise up to help him take the tight fabric off of your body. “Good girl.”, Mark praises as he grips the fabric and easily slides it off your legs.

Strangely, you don’t feel exposed, you don’t try to hide, and even if you did, you both know Mark would’ve used his knee to part your legs again. You appreciate the way his eyes linger on your bare skin, right hand running on your outer thigh.   That’s when you remember the mismatching underwear you chose to wear that day, not thinking you’d end up in such a situation. Mark’s hand finally travels to your inner thigh, thumb stroking just next to your burning core.

“Baby, you’re leaking.”, the nickname rolls out of his tongue so naturally, it rings in your ears, makes your head spin a little more, you never thought you’d hear it. You downfall when his forefinger and middle finger press against your white panties, just so he can punctuate and prove his words. And yes, you’re drenched, the simple touch under the fabric is enough to have you clenching around nothing, silently anticipating his next move.

Thankfully, the college student isn’t planning on teasing you too much for tonight, he’s aching to finally touch you, feel you arch for what he has to give you. His fingers hook under your undies, swiftly taking it off your body to completely expose your core to him. “Off. Take it off.”, you’re babbling, at this point, hands fisting the fabric of his thick top, tugging at it. Mark finds it amusing, how weak you already are, begging just for him to take his top off, but he plays on it anyways. “Ask nicely.”

“Please, Mark. Take your shirt off.”

And he does, hands gripping the fabric from the back to pull it off over his head, and quickly disregards it on the floor of his room. And, fuck.

Fuck, it’s the only word your mind can form, how ethereal can he look.

His pale skin reveals itself under the shy moon, the light makes his jaw and collarbones look sharper, his muscles and faint abs look carved in marble by Rodin himself. You think his nightly workouts on top of buildings really helped his figure, and your hands can only lock behind his back, fingers caressing his curved waist.

Quickly, your soft touches turn into sharp, red lines on his milky skin when he inserts a finger into your core without a warning. A gasp leaves your lips, his digit starts moving quickly, helped by the wetness between your legs and soon enough, another is added. His rhythm turns slow and steady, your walls hugging his fingers as you adjust to them. It manages to steal your breath, leaving you a panting mess under Mark’s body. His lips find purpose on your neck again, determined to decorate your skin even more. His breathe is ragged, like he’s the one being pleasured, “That’s right, let me hear you.”

You both forgot about Mark’s neighbours and how thin the walls are, soft moans filling his room, the sound of the brunette’s wet kisses for your ears only. And, when he’s satisfied with your sounds, the superhero adds a third finger and picks up the rhythm, one that gets your back arching, eyes fluttering shut, biting your lip at how he stretches your walls. “So fucking tight, you can barely take my fingers.”

The men cooed, you barely register what he says, you never took Mark for the dirty talking type, but you definitely won’t complain. Not when he’s looking at you the way your core and his fingers connect like he’s about to eat you up. 

“Fuck, Mark, faster!”, you hands travel from his back to his hair, hips raising in an attempt to feel him a little more.  The light strain from the stretch is still there, but it’s a small amount of pain added to the pleasure, a mixture you love too much, a mixture you decided you’re addicted to when your old enemy pressed his thumb to your bud of nerves. The familiar knot in your stomach is threatening to burst at any moment, waiting for Mark to give the last blow.

“’m close.”, you realize, as Mark does. In seconds, his left hand pins your lower half to his bed, his lips find yours again when he understands how loud you could get. The kiss’ messy, teeth clashing, your moans and sighs breaking the exchange every few seconds. Mark decides he might be in love with your moans, a few flicks of the wrist, and his fingers reach deeper, thumb presses harder until you come undone underneath him.

You don’t really remember what you said, a mess of tangle words, swears and Mark’s name, but you do remember the slight taste of blood in your mouth from how hard you bite your lower lip. Mark’s fingers don’t slow down the slightest bit, his mouth leaves yours, wanting to watch your face as you come around his fingers.

“Fuck, look at you.”, he muses when he takes his fingers out, watching in awe as he finds them glittering from your essence under the low light. “Already so fucked out, just from my fingers, hm ?” And you are, slightly breathless, eyes glossy, lips red.

You were about to complain and whine about how empty your felt, until your mouth hangs open as Mark takes his fingers into his mouth, moaning around his digits like a starved moan finally getting a meal. That’s when you decide, you want him, you need him.

It takes him by surprise, how you rise to your knees and make him sit on his bed. “Are you okay ?”, he asks, like he’s scared he went too far or harmed you by accident. “Wanna suck you off.”, is all you tell him before your knees find to floor of his bed.

“Oh.”, and it’s his turn to lose his words, eyes hooded as he watches you slide down and gently start working on his jeans. Mark might cum right then and there when you take his pants off, the hand palming him through the thin layer of his boxer, humming at how hard he feels under your fingertips.

“Don’t tease.”, he warns, voice a bit deeper, but he isn’t fooling you, the impatience in his eyes is way too obvious. They never leave your figure when you take this very layer off of his body, judging your reaction. You think you choked on your saliva. The young men’s member might be average in weight, he’s above in length, something you didn’t expect, but again, won’t complain about. Your body also reacts by itself, you remember that you’re not wearing any underwear, and you don’t want to leak on his floor.

“Bab-.”, he calls to catch your attention, his voice getting caught in his throat when you overtake him by wrapping your hand around his dick. “Oh, shit.”, the breathy curse tumbles from his lips as your hand moves up and down, using the pre-cum already leaking from his head. His head automatically rolls to the side, his tongue poking out before he takes his bottom lip between his teeth, sharp eyes impatient. “Thought you wanted to suck me off ?”, he asks, breathless, challenging.

He wanted to play, push your buttons like he used to in high school, but now, you have the upper hand. “Come on big girl, take i-“, you overtake him a second time, tongue flat running on his shaft, finding how his jaw drops and voice cuts a bit too amusing. “Fucking slut.”, is all he manages to articulate, chuckling at your antics. You, on the other hand, wasn’t expecting such words, a choked moan leaves your lips before you busy your mouth by taking Mark’s head between your lips, but he doesn’t miss your reaction.

His hand quickly finds your hair, freeing your vision from any locks that could block it, before slowly guiding you down his length. “Oh, you like when I call you a slut ?”, it’s a rhetorical question you’re not able to answer to anyways, you can only moan again against his dick as he eases himself into your mouth. “Dirty girl. Taking me so fucking well, god.” Jaw relaxed, he feels heavy on your tongue, your eyes might start tearing up.

His praises only make you more determined to pleasure him, you let him control the pace but hallow your cheeks, sucking on his head every time he guides your head up. “That fucking mouth, you were made for this, weren’t you ?”, he groans. His nails lightly scratch your head before he loses his composure, the steady and average rhythm he set turns rapid, his hips meeting your mouth halfway.

It’s when his squishy head hits the back of your throat that you have to breathe through your nose a bit harder, gagging around him every now and then. And, apparently, it drives Mark crazy. When you finally look up, innocent eyes planting themselves into his, you wished you had a camera to immortalize this very moment. The young superhero’s head thrown back, neck and Adam’s apple exposed, abs clenching as he’s getting closer and closer to his own high, his groans slowly turning into full moans. It’s melodic, beautiful sounds you don’t think you’ll ever get enough off. But, as your head starts moving faster, disregarding your sore throat and independently from his rhythm, he stops you. You whine when your mouth’s left empty, robbed from the want to see him come in your mouth.

“Wanna be inside you.”, his finger curl under your chin, helping you get up, and this time, he doesn’t hesitate, his hands are on your hips, before travelling under your shirt.

In a swift motion, he throws your body on his bed once again, before he towers you.

“Y/N, do you want this ?”, he asks, and how careful he is now compared to the way he spoke before makes you genuinely smile. You take things into your own hands, quickly taking your shirt off, leaving your bra on for Mark to take off. “Mark.”, you call out softly, and your arms like behind his head again. He hums, the college student looks like he’s in a daze, eyes wondering on your covered breasts. His face comes down once again, nose nuzzling against your cheek as he takes a deep breath, and that’s when you realize how fast your heart is beating. Despite that, your lean into his touch, closing your eyes, “Fuck me, wanna feel you.”

It’s all he needs to take things into his own hands, a shaky breath leaves his lips as he nods to himself. He can’t tease himself or tease you further, at this point, he just wants to be inside of you, be one, and take you. So, he does. His right hand aligns himself with your entrance, his eyes leave your figure for a split second before he finds your eyes again. You have to break the eye contact when he finally enters up, head stretching your walls even though his fingers prepared you moment prior.

Your eyes roll back as he gradually slides in, “There you go, fuck.”, sweet nothings are whispered into your ear, his right arm sneak under your back to keep you close, he wants to mold his body against yours, feel every breathe you take and sense every vibration from every moan, feel the sighs you let out die on his skin. His left forearm planted next to your hand, he used his leverage and chase after your lips again before moving his hips.

You, feel everything, every vein, especially when he slides out and rams in. You can’t keep up with the kiss, your head is thrown back, your body almost follows the movement and hikes up his bed, but he holds you close. You understand he’s been waiting to do this for a while, with the way he lets his cock move in and out of you in a slow pace, but still manages to thrust deep, so deep.

“You feel so fucking good. O-h god, Mark, babe.”, you cry out, in pure bliss, as Mark hides his face in the crook of your neck, the way you moan his name gets to his head a bit too quickly, it poison his mind and makes him lose any self-control he had. He who wanted to take things slow at first doesn’t keep up with his internal promise for long, he craves to hear more of your moans, more of his name falling from your lips in lust. The brunette picks up in pace, he gets rough, hips slapping against your own.

You’re surprise his bed isn’t moving more than that, actually, you’re glad. His bedframe would’ve banged against the wall of his room, your mouth agape. Your moans flow freely, maybe a bit too freely for Mark’s neighbour’s and integrity, god knows he would’ve let you be as loud as you wanted if he could.

“Tsk.”, a tired smile stretches his lips, his left hand finds your throat again and you welcome it with appreciation, letting the young man tighten his grip on the side of you neck. “Little slut is so loud.” You shake your head from left to right, you didn’t want to be, one of your hands leave Mark’s body so you can bite down on it and hopefully muffle your noises. But, the young men doesn’t like this idea so much, his left hand now wraps around your wrist, and before you know it, it’s stuck to his bedframe.

You blink, did he just ? Did he just use his powers on you ?

From the slight smirk he has on his face, on the white, web-like substance around your wrist, he just did.

“I never said I didn’t like it.”, he muses, before his thumb sneaks in your mouth, forcing your mouth open. Then, he gives one particularly hard thrust, one that actually sends your body up his bed, one that has you moaning loud enough that his entire floor probably heard.

“Holy sh-. Do that again.”, you could beg, at this point, eyes watery, and he doesn’t hesitate do to so. Your second orgasm comes so quickly, clenching around him.

“So greedy, you’re gripping me.”, he articulates between clenched teeth, you know he’s as close, but you’re so lost in him that you just nod, you stop trying to free your hand and grip his dark locks, trying to archer yourself to something, anything. Half opened eyes search for his, you mumble about how close you are as his left hand finds the bed sheet. He doesn’t hide in your neck, Mark lets you hear exactly how good you make him feel, he lets you see him. The thin layer of sweat on his hairline, his locks messy from your hands, the rose hue over his chest, the red lines your created creeping on his sides.

“Make me feel so good, fuck.”, you babble, Mark pulls you closer to his chest, “Come around me, wanna feel you.”, and it’s all you need. Like an order your body registers in this split second, you come a second time, a second orgasm that leaves you breathless. The air is knocked out of your lungs, you’re sure the entire building heard you moan out Mark’s name.

On the other hand, the young men follows quickly behind you, only needed that one last clench for him to let the sinful liquid spill inside of you. He comes in a few long, moaning frantically. Visibility, it leaves him tired as well. Mark doesn’t even take his shaft out, his body lazily lays on top of you without crushing you, a reassuring weight on top of you own tired body. The both of you just lay there, tired and maybe a bit choked, surprised, in a good way. It’s when Mark chuckles next to you that you dare and look at him. Your hair’s probably a mess, lips red and wet, makeup ruined, but Mark still runs a hand on your cheek, a sweet gesture you lean into, reassured. “What ?”

It’s almost comical, how his eyes turn from sharp and lust-filled to the sweet and joyful eyes you grew up around, the one that remind you of home. He looks up at your wrist, still firmly stuck to the bed frame, you almost forgot about it.

“What do you call a spider into BDSM ?” 

© NEOVISIONED l NO REPOSTING OR TRANSLATIONS ALLOWED.

#spiderverse project #bed of spiderwebs #neovisioned #spiderman!mark #spiderman!nct #mark lee #mark lee smut #nct #neo culture technology #nct smut #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct u #nct u smut #super m #super m smut #mark #college!au #mark smut

[simpsiren]

lee jeno x reader

description. In a small town where everyone knew everyone, it didn’t come as a surprise for my little self to quickly fall in love for the boy I spent my entire childhood with. But after he left the town one night, I refused to head back there. That is until I received an envelope one day that contained a postcard that had a short note along with polaroid pictures

genre. angst, fluff, childhood friends/crush to lovers

word count. 8k~

warnings. nonee

a/n. hihiii I actually thought this idea is pretty cool. I never expected it to be this long but oH wEllS HAHA either way i hope you’ll enjoy since I really enjoyed writing this :D

“What was taking you so long to get here?” I shouted, looking down as I saw a shadow and the rustling sound of the grass, knowing who it was since no one else would be at this side of town.

“Dinner held me back.” The familiar voice rang through my ears as Jeno climbs up the ladder to the rooftop where I waited for him.

He gets comfortable next to me as he placed his hands behind him and leaned back, tilting his head up to face the night sky. We took the time in the comfortable silence to bask in the moonlight, the blank dark sky with only few starts to be seen as the cold breeze touched our skin ever so lightly.

“Don’t lie. They fought again, didn’t they?” I finally spoke up. I brought my knees close to my chest, arms wrapped around my legs as I laid my head on one knee and turned to face him. His side profile looked as good and indulging as always.

“I can never lie to you.” Jeno suspired in defeat, running a hand through his soft and fluffy hair. “I don’t even know how I got caught up in it.” He added on. I frowned and placed my hand beside his head, moving it gently to rest on my shoulder. He leaned against me as I wrapped my arm around him and rubbed the side of it.

“We’ll get out of this town eventually. In a few years time, we’re fleeing this place.” I whispered gently. My hand creeps up his hair, running my fingers through his locks.

I really wished I could stay like this with him forever; being this close to him— having him appreciate my embrace as we admired the atmosphere of the plain boring night. Though my nights were never plain when it was with him. I liked him that much, when I wouldn’t mind doing anything as long as he’s here.

“Keep your promise.” I chuckled lightly, feeling his hands wrapping around me as he snuggles up closer. I felt his breathing against my skin with his touch setting off the usual butterflies fluttering in my stomach. “You know I always do.”

However, I also knew that his touch towards me has always been intentionally platonic. It hurt my heart in a way as I could only wish it meant something more without him knowing my desire towards him.

Silence once again settled in. But it quickly came to an end when Jeno took in a deep breath, the sound of him gulping can be heard. “If I happen to flee first, I promise I’ll find you again.” He suddenly let out. I raised a brow at my friends’s questionable words.

“What do you mean?”

Jeno heaved a sigh. I thought it was a normal sigh at first, but I realised that it had an underlining meaning to it, a probably gloomy one. “Nothing in particular.” He replied in a simple directness. I could tell he didn’t want to explain. I didn’t bother pushing it further. But I still wondered what he meant by that.

And that’s how I spent my nights with the boy I liked— hanging out at the rooftop of an abandoned house till late at night. Sometimes we’d stay there till morning if one of us decided not to go home.

I’d fall deeper for Jeno with every night passing by. I would talk about my late night thoughts and feelings. He’ll listen throughout, regardless of how weird or boring it got. And I did the same for him. I was never not entertained by him. His voice, the little actions he does while he talked, his indulging features. I liked him so much.

We were just reckless teenagers. Free to do whatever while we’re stuck in a tiny town with only each other to entertain and be entertained by. We depended on each other for everything; we only had each other. My relationship with Jeno was nothing but perfect in the most simple and boring way possible. And that’s what I liked most.

That is until one day, he left town without a word of notice. No signs, no announcement— nothing. He didn’t text me at all either, no matter how many times I spammed him with texts and missed calls. It’s like he vanished out of my life. My only friend and crush— gone. Just like that.

It sent me down an emotional roller coaster. Feeling anger, sadness and betrayal all in one go. I’ve been stuck in a loop of my own mixed up feelings for months, unable to get over Jeno.

He didn’t leave a single trace of him, but I knew very well that he had a special place in my heart. One so deep and impactful. I wanted to get rid of this place, but I never can, even after all these years. He probably doesn’t know it. With every step I took around town, everything had something to do with him. I was never able to get him off my mind.

It frustrated me. Everything here had a piece of him, and I was left to pick up each and every one as I ponder about why he left without letting me know. Was I that insignificant all this while that he couldn’t tell me before hand? Did I even mean much to him that he didn’t think about me on the night he left?

And those questions still remain.

“Yo!” I heard the shriek of a familiar voice right behind me as an arm swung around my shoulders. I didn’t bother looking at him as I kept walking forward while he followed closely beside me.

“Yes, Jaemin?” I asked, finally turning my head to meet his face, having his bright and bubbly smile as usual. “Bubble tea date?” Jaemin giggled like a child.

With a slight chuckle, I gave him the same smile and questioned, “Your treat?”

Jaemin rolled his eyes, faking his exasperation. Though he still walked while bouncing on the ball of his feet. “Why bother asking when we both know your cheapskate ass will never pay.” He grumbled.

I gave a light shrug of my shoulders. “True that.” I admitted easily. We headed to the nearby mall and got our bubble teas. Though I wanted to pay him for my drink since I did feel slightly bad, he gave an answer that said, “I mean if you want to.” I would have, but felt like I didn’t moments after.

We made our way back to the dorms. With my dorm and his being on the same floor and only a few dorms down the hall, we decided to go to my dorm.

And that’s when I saw it. The moment I opened the door. The first thing that caught my eye was the envelope on the floor, centimetres away from my foot as I took the first step to enter. Jaemin bumped into me due to my sudden stop of movement that led him to ask, “Why’d you stop?”

I bent down to pick it up in my hand, moving it around as I looked at it from all angles before standing up and showing Jaemin the envelope. He snatched it away from me and inspected it as well.

“Doesn’t have a sender.” He took note, handing it back to me with a shrug. I raised both shoulders before entering my dorm completely, standing aside to let Jaemin in and close the door.

I threw my bag beside where Jaemin put his; beside my study table as he plopped himself onto my bed and allowed his body to sink in the piles of pillows and plushies I had.

Sitting down next to him, I held the envelope up in the air, making Jaemin sit up straight with his legs crossed as leaning in with curiosity. “Open it, open it.” He chanted.

I tore open the seal, taking out whatever’s inside till it’s empty, crumpling up the envelope and throwing it in my small trashcan beside the bed.

“What the heck?” Jaemin and I muttered in unison as we stared at the items in between us on the bed. I tilted my head to the side, lifting up the item that was nearest to me. “A postcard?” I flipped it to the other side, noticing it had a note written on it.

“How are you?” A question that never escaped my mind during my free time. Though I may never get an answer, I wish to see you. But only from afar. I’d be too ashamed to have you in front of me. So, how are you?

As I read out the words on the postcard that was written in a seamlessly beautiful handwriting, Jaemin took the other items in his hands, continuously shuffling from one to another and repeating the process after staring at each one for a few seconds.

“Someone wrote you a note and sent you polaroids?” Jaemin asked, handing the polaroids out for me to take. I took it and gave him the postcard to allow him to look at it as well.

There were three polaroids. All had dates on the blank space under the picture. I didn’t know what the dates would mean. The date they took the picture? Any other significant meaning? I just knew the dates were about a few weeks ago and were days apeart from each other. The pictures were vague, seemingly random. But a closer look got me to realise it. “Whoever sent it must be in Paris.”

Jaemin clicked his tongue, nodding his head. “Weird. Do you know anyone that would send you something like this?” I furrowed my eyebrows and rolled my eyes, lifting the polaroids in the air and waving it around. “I wouldn’t be looking this puzzled if I had known.”

“Maybe it’s your secret admirer.” Jaemin assumed, the side of his lip rising a little as he cocked a brow. I scoffed, squinting my eyes at him with my mouth gaped open. “Yeah, sure.” I said sarcastically.

I rose from my bed, the polaroids in hand and snatching away the postcard from Jaemin. I walked to my study table and opened the small drawer under it, shoving them in and slamming it shut.

“For all I know it could be a stalker. Like hello? Who would know my location?” I went back to my bed, reaching my hand out to take the remote controller on my side table.

Jaemin chuckled. “Seriously? We’re in college. It’s not like they know your house address.” He shook his head and turned his body to face the television as I turned it on and headed to Netflix.

“I don’t know who sent that so I’m not going go give it anymore thought.” I simply stated as I searched for the movie that Jaemin and I planned to watch during our lecture in the afternoon.

After that first encounter with the envelope, a few months have passed. And the idea of it slowly slipped out of my mind completely. I didn’t think I’d be seeing it and having another encounter with it. I thought that has passed me already.

But mostly, I thought it meant nothing.

However, while I stayed up one night to study for a major exam that’s coming in about a week’s time, I heard something sliding on the floor. With my headphones on, I immediately took one side off and looked upwards, wondering where the noise came as my senses peaked.

I then look around the room. And on the floor, there it was. The same blank envelope I saw months ago. I squinted my eyes in awe, streching my body to grab the envelope. I put my pen down, now holding the envelope in my two hands.

It looked the same on the outside. A plain envelope with nothing but my college name written on it. I scratched my head slowly. “I don’t have time for this.” I muttered, thinking about the many other topics I needed to cover.

Either way, my curiosity still surfaced. I opened the envelope. Again I saw a postcard and three polaroids. This time however, the polaroids are showing a different place. Not knowing where it is, I looked at my laptop and searched up cities other than Paris. The last polaroids showed pictures taken in Paris. So maybe whoever took it could be somewhere near there.

As I looked through the different places, I tried to find matches of the pictures in the polaroids and ones on the internet. “Marseille...?” I glanced back and forth from the screen to the polaroids. Yup, it’s definitely Marseille. But why? And who?

I now looked towards the postcard. It had a drawing of buildings that look like the ones in Marseille. I took notice that there was another note. The handwriting looked neat and is definitely from the same person as last time.

You probably have forgotten about the first note I sent. Just to let you know, I’m doing fine. Our memories started to flood in and I couldn’t help myself but to contact you. Even in a way such as this, I’m glad to know that this’ll reach you someday. I hope you’ll remember the times we’ve spent together. You might hate me. I broke our promise afterall. Yet, I hope you’ll remember me like I do you.

My mouth slowly gaped open, my fingers grazing over the words as I read the short paragraph once more. The questions start to fill up my mind.

Our memories? Whoever you are, why can’t you just text me through text? Why are you being so meticulous and mysterious? Do you not want me to remember who you are? How can I remember you when you don’t give me a hint?

The questions almost sent me down a whirpool, one I’d probably won’t be able to escape if I have gone any further. I stopped yourself, opening the drawer where I kept the last postcard and polaroids, throwing them in as I thought about the more way important matter I had to handle, getting my head back in the game after picking my pen up to resume studying.

Though despite being able to complete what I wanted, I ended up staying wide awake, my mind still processing the weird envelope. Slowly, my thoughts went down the memory lane, trying to find what “memories” the sender is trying to make me remember. It was probably three in the morning at this point. I haven’t checked my phone for the time. I’ve probably been in deep thought for quite some time.

“What promise are they talking about...”

Nothing came to my mind as I tried finding answers. My brain could only store that much. My memory capacity is extremely limited now I had picked up such a major. My memories could only go as far back as my second year of college.

I grabbed a random plushie out of frustration, smacking my head with it. “Stop it. Just sleep. This means nothing.” I had to make a firm statement to myself. I can’t let my mind wonder too far over something like this. My life had other priorities. And this is definitely not one of them. Worse yet, something that’s making me lose my sleep.

I eventually fell asleep after shutting my mind away from any more thoughts; related to the envelopes or not.

Exams came and go, though it felt longer for some reason. On the last day of the exams, Jaemin decided that we should head out and explore our city this Christmas. It was a pretty good idea. We’ve been couped up in the dorms for way too long. Christmas break was the only time we were free, other than our midterm break.

The bits of snow fell and the city was bustling with Christmas spirit. Jaemin and I didn’t actually know what to do. But after walking around we found an area near the mall that was like an outdoor arcade. Or perhaps like a smaller version of a theme park.

We played for hours, going to different booths and playing different games. I was the one that had to play most of them since Jaemin can never earn a single prize. We went to many food trucks and indulged ourselves with the delicacy that we missed while being trapped in college.

We decided to head back at around ten, when the ciry began to quiet down and peace began to settle down upon the city. “Oh. I forgot to tell you.” I started off as we walked down the street, making a right turn to the traffic light. Jaemin walks forward a few steps to press the button as he went back to stand beside me. “What?” Jaemin asked.

“I got another envelope before the exams. He was at Maseille at the time.” I blankly replied. Jaemin stopped moving around and turned sharply to face me. I blinked my eyes. “You didn’t bother telling me then?! How could you!” Jaemin shouted out, a frown forming on his lips.

I scrunched my nose, shaking my head as I expected that he would make that kind of reaction. “We had exams? That shit got me up all night just from thinking about it.” I retorted back and began to walk forward across the street Jaemin quickly followed from behind and ended up beside me again.

“You can’t stop thinking about who the sender could be right?” I let out a defeated sigh, nodding my head with a hum. “Has the sender sent another one after that?” I gave a reply that was opposite to the previous one.

“I have a hunch that there’ll be another one today.” Jaemin commented nonchalantly. “A hunch.” I repeated back to myself.

Jaemin hummed in response. I didn’t reply, but rather allowed my mind to head back to the envelope. It’s Christmas Eve. Could the sender actually sent another one because of the occasion? I was bothered by the envelopes at first but now, I felt like I needed them to send me more. So I’ll be able to piece them up and find an answer.

Once we arrived, Jaemin wanted to come over to my dorm. Probably to check if his hunch was correct. And I couldn’t believe my eyes.

Jaemin immediately went down to snatch it from the ground. “I told you!” He announced with glee, the envelope flying around in his hand. “Okay, okay go open.” I urged him. He quickly goes to my bed, taking a seat while I closed the door and plopped down beside him.

He tore it open. The same contents dropped out. “Look at the polaroids.” I told Jaemin while I picked up the postcard. Jaemin tilted his head in confusion, eyes squinting as he tried to make sense of them. “It’s a different place from before, though.” Jaemin muttered.

I flipped the postcard, it was a regular Christmas themed one. I flipped back to where the note was written on the other side.

When the first snowfall fell, I thought of you. Every year the time I spent Christmas with you felt like a dream. We had nothing to do in that confined place, we only had each other to depend on, but the memories you’ve created for me were never lost since then. Even if you yourself have forgotten them, at least they’re still stored in me, waiting for you.

I read it all out. “It has to be someone you’ve been close to. They talk as if you’ve known them forever. Don’t you remember anyone that have you mean this much to them?”

Jaemin waited for me to answer. Though I already knew what to say, I was having second thoughts about it the more I dived deeper in my memories.

“It might have been someone from my childhood? Ugh I don’t know I can’t think of anyone. It’s probably more than five years ago.” I whined out. I slapped my hands on my cheek, cupping my face as I watch Jaemin running a hand through his hair.

“The polaroids looks like it’s been taken in Lyon.” As Jaemin said out his conclusion, I looked through the polaroids. “How’d you know?” I questioned.

“I literally have Architecture Geography as my elective. I have to learn the building styles of so many places. And this building....” Jaemin snatches one polaroid from me after peeking to look at it and showed it to me, pointing at the picture that showed a line of houses. “Is especially unique to Lyon.”

I nodded my let, letting out an “Ah...” while I remembered the fact that Jaemin takes electives on top of our main major.

“So you received three. All a few months apart from each other. And all of them showed a different city in France.” I nodded my head as I repeated each point he made in my head

Suddenly, a random question, or perhaps not, pops up in curiosity. “Do you think the sender will start sending more of them more often?” Jaemin kept silent to give my question some thought.

“They can’t be doing this forever. I mean I get they’re overseas but they’ll soon visit you here maybe.”

I smacked my lips, eyes glazing over the polaroids and postcards. This was the third time I received it. And a year has already passed. Does the sender want me to acknowledge them and find out who they are? Or maybe they’re communicating with me through this so as to be discreet and not want me to find them?

Question after question after question. The two of us sat in silence, Jaemin was probably thinking about this too, seeing how his finger were moving across his lips as he stared down to the items.

“Is there anyone that have you mean this much to them?” The specific question Jaemin asked. My answer would no. A firm no. Other than my family, I can never remember anyone that valued me so much as to go through such extends to keep their identity hidden like this.

My mind went blank. I couldn’t think. The postcard, the note, the polaroids; all served as puzzle pieces that can never be pieced together. The more I thought, the more complicated my answer got.

“Such a damsel in distress.” Jaemin finally spoke up, tilting his head up to look at me with both his brows raised.

“I’m not a damsel.” I stated, shaking my head. Though I let out a weak and defeating sigh, turning my head to the window as I watched the snow of dark night fall.

“But I certainly am in distress.”

On the third month of the new year, Jaemin and I had just finished our mini exam that our major would have every term.

“I’m glad we both did well. But that’s only one fourth of the chapters for this year and I’m already rotting.” Jaemin said, his back slouching as he dragged his feet on the floor while walking beside me.

“Your hair still looks healthy depsite the bleaching and brain deterioration.” I replied. We chuckled as we made our way to the snack bar at our dorm.

When we arrived there, I saw two other students hanging out by the chocolate area, chatting while one bent down and had his eyes scan across the area.

Jaemin wanted to buy his gummy bears and that’s where we went, and it was a few feet away from the two students.

“Which one should I get?” Jaemin bounced on the balls of his feet as he excitedly eyed the many kinds of gummy bears in front of him while tapping my shoulder at a rapid pace.

“I mean I’d choose the peach flavoured one.” I suggested with a shrug.

While Jaemin bent down to look for the peach gummy bears, the two students came into view.

“Wait so he’s coming back?” One of them started talking. “Can you shut the fuck up?” The other whispered, nudging his friends’ shoulder hard and placing a finger to his lips.

“No one is suppose to know.” He muttered.

“Please. No one here even knows him. He’s been away for that long.”

Though the friend tried to keep the conversation at a whisper’s level, clearly the other couldn’t care less, raising his voice back to a normal volume.

“Is he still doing that thing?” I heard the guy who spoke normally asked. The other replied with a sigh, nodding his head reluctantly. “It’s been a year. I honestly think he’s putting her in a weird and energy draining position. Seriously, they’ve been separated for years now, Chenle.”

Just as he was about to speak another word, his head turned to mine and our eyes met. We looked at each other, and he eventually gave a weirded out expression. I broke off the eye contact, embarrassed as I was probably caught eavesdropping their conversation.

Jaemin finally broke the silence. “Okay I’m going to get this peach one as well as strawberry. Oh you’re back.” Jaemin grinned happily. I raised a brow.

“I’ve been standing here all this time.” Jaemin blinked his eyes rapidly in disbelief, laughing and patting my shoulder after. “Seriously? Damn I didn’t even hear you breathe.” He said out of amusement.

I looked around and picked up another random kind of gummy bear. “I’ll just get this.” I said with a soft smile. Jaemim took it from me and headed over to the counter.

Before I could advert my attention back to the two students, they were already outside and walking away with the white plastic bag in hand. They’re conversation really stood out to me for some unknown reason.

Back at the dorm, Jaemin scrolled through Netflix on the television again, trying to find another movie to watch for the week. Absentmindedly, I couldn’t help but keep glancing at the drawer where it conatined all the postcards and polaroids the sender sent me.

And then my mind went back to the conversation the two students had. It’s like the two connected somehow. Like a clear string so thin that it seemed almost invisible. It’s there, but also not. I had a feeling. But I’m not sure what. And I can’t make a statement before I know it’s a hundred percent true.

“What are you thinking about?” Jaemin asked, his eyes still on the screen as he reads the description of a movie he selected. I turned my hard sharply. “Nothing.” I blurted out. “Don’t lie.”

I groaned, placing a hand on my forehead to cover my eyes. “You know those two people at the snack bar just now?”

Jaemin nodded his head. “Music majors.” I clicked my tongue. I kept silent for a moment. “Well I kind of eavesdropped on their conversation. And... something about it felt odd.”

Jaemin chuckled which made me look at him with confusion. “We’ve never encountered them at all, sweetie. We just see them on campus. Nothing more. Why would you think they’d have anything to do with the envelopes?” Jaemin questioned.

I let out a ‘tsk’ as I jerked my head slightly, biting my lower lip as I thought of an answer.

“The envelope thing has been going on for a year. They were talking about someone doing something for a year too. On top of that they said the person and someone else have been separated for so long. Doesn’t it lowkey resemble my situation? That whoever’s sending me this is hinting that I’ve known them for a long time.” I explained, pouring all my thoughts out.

Jaemin took awhile to respond. A minute has passed and he looked to still be deep in thought. But then, the sound of something sliding on floor near the door occured again.

I wasted no time to rush to the door, opening it and peeking my head out, looking left and right. I could’ve sworn I saw a glimpse of a shadow disappearing at far end corner.

“Woah what the heck?!” Jaemin shouts, surprised at my sudden reaction. I ran a hand through my hair in frustration.

I thought that if I can’t find the sender, I could find the deliverer. But as unlucky as I am, I missed it. Even if I chased after them, they’d be long gone.

I looked down, seeing the envelope right under the end of my shoe. I picked it up and swirled around to face Jaemin who was looking at me with their a shocked or confused expression. Obviously both.

“Speak of the devil.”

I walked back to my bed and tossed the envelope to Jaemin. Tore it open. Same contents.

“They’re probably at another city again.” I simply stated, picking up the postcard. However this time, the postcard looked different. Different in a way where it didn’t look like it came from the same area or region.

“Oh my God, wait.” I looked up to find Jaemin shuffling through the polaroids so quickly. “It’s in Japan.”

I whispered a soft, “What?” before snatching away the polaroids. And true to his words, the polaroids showed the unique city lit at night at different angles.

Can’t believe I’m here. I’m coming back soon. I really want to see you, but I’m scared of how you’ll react. If you remember now, please wait at our hangout spot. You should know where. One where we wasted our hours away looking at the blank canvas that we used to fill our hopes and dreams with and regret not sleeping the next day. But I never regretted a single night, since I was always with you.

“Wait so they’re right next to Korea right now?” I asked Jaemin once he finished reading the letter. He nodded eagerly. “Yeah but we still don’t know his exact location.”

My eyes narrowed down on Jaemin with a thin line forming in between my brows. “Why’d you think it’s a he?” I gave him a skeptical eye.

Jaemin shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “I’m still betting on the fact that this is your secret admirer.”

“It can be my long lost sister or something?”

I hate to admit it, but the idea of the sender possibly being my secret admirer had a romantic flare to it. My love life was getting boring in college. I never had time to mingle and I eventually closed myself away from love.

“If he’s in Japan, the next envelope would come faster right? By then, like he said in the note, he’ll be in Korea. We can track him down from there.”

Jaemin kept silent for a moment before opening his mouth to choose to continue. “But do you know where the so called hangout spot is?”

I thought long and hard. I kept muttering the description of the hangout place to myself. I couldn’t think of anything.

Not being able to come up with an answer, I went ahead to guess based on the words. And the answer quickly dawned on me.

“Is it someplace where it’s high up? Like a rooftop? It said that we stayed up all night at a blank canvas. That’s probably describing the night sky.”

Jaemin puckered his lips and nodded his head after processing what I just said. “If you can’t remember, why don’t you look at the other postcards? Maybe seeing them all together could help.”

His statement made me rush to my study table. I opened the drawer and dug out all the postcards I’ve received for over a year now. Coming back to the bed, I tossed them down and arranged them by the time I received them.

Quickly scanning my eyes over the words to quick read, I immediately picked up the keywords of each postcard.

“They don’t wish to be seen by me, significant memories, a broken promise, only had each other, confined space, a rooftop.” I laid it all out.

I thought long and hard. I really did. I dug so deep into my memories. I’ve probably been thinking for at least ten minutes. Jaemin didn’t say anything either.

“Anything?” He finally lets out.

“I think I know.”

Jaemin looked at me with eyes full of curiosity. My mouth gaped open slightly as I finally realise the thin string that connected all the dots becoming more visible.

Why didn’t I remember? Well, it’s been years. I couldn’t elaborate after what I said to Jaemin. Sudden waves of feelings crashed over me, over my heart— crashing so hard to let them in. The walls broke down quick. And the memories of him came to life. It flashed over me, like a movie tape being sped up at its maximum.

Everything I felt at the time surfaced in high intensity after being suppressed in my heart for too long. It was too much to handle.

I ended up finding Jaemin holding my arms and shaking me to get me out of trance. I blinked my eye once. Wanting to lift up a hand to touch my face, I realise my cheeks were wet. Very wet.

“Fucking hell what happened to you?! You literally stared at me for like- Forever that your eyes started watering.” Jaemin showed his concern, eyes looking straight at mine while he raised a thumb to my other cheek to wipe off the excess tears.

“I can’t believe this...” I breathed out. I gulped, desperately wanting my feelings to subside so that I can calm down, but also to allow Jaemin calm down as well. He was looking too worried for me and I hated it.

“Lee Jeno.” I croaked out. “Who’s he?”

I took in a deep breath, my hand going up to my head to press against it gently.

“Jeno... My childhood best friend. We lived in a small ass town. I had feelings for him. But he left without telling me one night. I hated him so much for it.”

As I expected, I couldn’t hold it in. The glistening tears wasted no time to well up in my eyes and fall down my cheeks. Jaemin instantly pulled me into his embrace as I cried hard into his chest till part of his shirt got soaked terribly.

Jaemin rubbed my back, not speaking a word as he allowed me to pour it all out on him. “Cry all you want, I’m here for you. Speak only when you want to.” Is what I definitely know Jaemin is saying through his comforting touch.

“I liked him so fucking much. And to have him leave and just magically disappearing out of my life. I hated the fact that he didn’t care to give me a heads up. I suffered so much the night he left. I fucking went haywire and didn’t even function properly for months while I thought about where he could’ve gone.” I spoke, my voice muffled as I dug my face deeper into Jaemin’s chest.

He hummed gently, still keeping silent as he knew I had way more to say than that.

“I don’t know what to do, Nana. I don’t know what to feel. I feel numb. I thought I’d be mad. Well, I am but I just...”

“I get it, love. It’s fine. I don’t understand how you feel. But you don’t have to explain, okay? Don’t tire yourself out.” Jaemin whispered.

“Give yourself time. You’re feeling a lot right now. Don’t think about the envelopes for the time being. It’s too much for you to handle.” He continued.

I pulled myself away from him, using the cuffs of my sweatshirt to wipe my face dry, sniffling as I glanced down on my lap before looking at Jaemin who had the most soft eyes that brought me calmness and peace at this point of time.

“You’re right. I can’t handle it. What a shitshow...” I mumbled at the end. “Now Jeno suddenly wants to come back to me? After what he did? What he put me through?” I shook my head.

Just what am I going to do now?

That night, I couldn’t sleep. And of course, being the most greatest friend, Jaemin slept over in my dorm and stayed awake till I fell asleep. I tried so hard to put myself to sleep because I know Jaemin’s stubborn instinct will insist on staying up till he heard me snore.

But everytime I closed my eyes, I thought of Jeno. The boy I adored for so long, but also the one I resented for so long. What does he look now? How’s his life going? What part of himself changed and what remained? Once again questions circled around and eventually I grew tired, falling asleep at a late hour and feeling regret the next morning as I looked over to see Jaemin sleeping who probably would have to drink a heck ton more coffee than usual (which is already health threatening enough) for him to stay awake for the rest of the day.

It didn’t take long for the next envelope to arrive. In fact, it came way quicker than expected. I wasn’t even sure if I had my feelings under control yet. I felt better. But the envelope arriving at my doorstep didn’t give a chance for me to fight my feelings that I wouldn’t want to experience again for fhe second time.

I’ll give you a month till 5th Sep. I’ll be there at 10pm. And I’ll wait till 12. If I don’t see you then, I’ll take it as you really do hate me and want me gone from your life forever. And if you do come... I’d be over the moon to see your face again. Whatever’s the answer, I’ll respect it wholeheartedly.

The note on the postcard got me sighing and rubbing a hand down my face. I had to make a decision by fifth september. Can I even do that? Is he really doing this again? Does he want me to go through the same emotional roller coaster ride like I did years ago with all these mixed feelings constantly swirling around me while I get pressured?

“Fuck it. He’s putting you through too much. Don’t meet him.” Jaemin slammed his coffee on the table. The action got eyes looking towards our table as the loud slam rang across the coffee shop.

“It’s conflicting, Nana. Part of me can’t face him since I know how much rage I’ll be feeling. But at the same time, I want to see him. I’m curious. And I need answers.” I said, sighing after and covering my face with my hands for a moment before huffing.

“I weighted both options. I know the pros and cons. But if I’m going to be really honest with myself, I would want to see him.”

Jaemin smacked his lips and nodded, his fingers tapping against the drink while he stared out the window and looked at me. “Okay then go. I know you’re scared about the cons and all. But you can’t overthink. Go with your first option and just do it. You really can’t contemplate.” Jaemin read my mind. He was able to get my thoughts so accurately and precisely that it might have scared me a little.

“You know me well, huh?” I let out a weak chuckle. I frowned. “You’re right.” I glanced at my phone, tapping the screen to show my lockscreen to look at the date. “I have eight days left till fifth September.”

“Great. You can take your mind off him till then. You need to fee as lighthearted as possible.”

Jaemin gave me his bright smile. His bubbly nature starting appear and take its place on his expressions and tone.

“I’ll definitely need your help with that.”

Jaemin did everything he could to make me happy and simply carefree. He’d offer to buy me bubble tea after lectures, accompany me wherever I went. He practically stayed over my apartment for the whole eight days.

As the days inched nearer, I ended each night with thinking of Jeno. I know Jaemin’s whole point of being with me was to get my mind off him. But I just couldn’t. Every night I’ll envision how he’d look. Which country did he flee to? What college major is he taking? What about his friends? Sometimes I even wondered if I ran through his mind like he does in mine.

But then, on one night while Jaemin fell asleep on the couch, I couldn’t help but think of the two music majors. The situation they described was awfully similar. It felt too similar. Indirectly it was. And of course, due to my demanding nature, I decided to find them to see if my speculation was correct.

It wasn’t hard for me to find out that they ended lecture at eleven today. Which is three hours before mine. I snuck out of my dorm, leaving Jaemin who’s still sleeping. Walking to the music department, I kept my eyes out for them. It shouldn’t be that hard since it’s about to be eleven and they’d be walking out of class by now.

The students started to scramble out and I instantly concentrated on the crowd, looking for them. One prominent feature that made them stood out was the fact that one of them had bright orange hair. Chenle, if I’m not wrong.

After waiting outside the lecture hall for at least ten minutes. It felt like almost everyone has already left and I started to wonder if I missed them. Luckily I didn’t. When I saw the bright orange hair guy coming out with another person and a lecturer, eventually waving goodbye to him and separating way.

I immediately intercepted, blocking their way. They looked at me with confusion. “Can we help you...?” The brown haired question awkwardly. I cleared my throat. “I actually need to talk to you guys about something. Why don’t we sit down?” I offered as I motioned by hand to the hangout area where there were wooden tables and benches.

The two turned their heads to each other, exchanging unrecognisable looks before walking ahead of me. They sat down side by side while I sat opposite. They looked like they didn’t know what was going on. Obviously, they didn’t.

“Um so basically I wanted to ask...” “Ask away.”

“Do you know of anyone named Lee Jeno?”

Silence ensues. No one answered for a whole minute. One stared blankly on the table while the other looked around as if trying to search for an answer.

“U-Uh no. We don’t. I’m sorry but we’re busy. Haechan let’s go.” The orange haired rose from his seat and held the other’s arm. Just when he was about to get dragged away, I held onto his free arm.“Wait. Please.”

Chenle lets out an inaudible sigh, allowing Haechan and him to slowly sit back down. “What?” “The conversation at the snack bar of our apartment dorm. Who are the two people that’s been apart for a long time?”

Haechan scoffed, cocking up a brow with one side of his lips lifted up. “You eavesdropped on us?”

“I’m sorry but that is not something you should know. We’re leaving.” Chenle insisted. But Haechan placed a hand on his shoulder. “But shouldn’t she know-“ “Know what?” I asked, that slip up of Haechan’s made me confirm that they definitely know Jeno someway.

“Can you fucking shut up?!” Chenle growled at Haechan, groaning. His head immediately shot to me. “You have nothing to do with this. I don’t know why you thought it was you, but we were referring to our lecturer’s personal problems. So please, we have to go.”

With that, they dashed off. I knew from the get go that they lied. They knew Jeno. That gave me some information in a way. Like perhaps they are the ones that’s helping him to send the envelopes. That little information gave me a sense of closure, in the smallest way possible. At least I had an answer to something.

It helped me to push through those days. A small portion of the whole big truth brought me this much strength.

I felt a lot of things while I walked to the town that’s deep in the unknown side of Korea, out of sight from the world. That’s how insignificant the town was.

As I got closer and closer, my heart began to feel heavy. Pounds of weight that contained feelings, reactions, the overthinking— slammed my heart. I could barely hold up.

I lifted up my phone slightly from my side. 11:45PM. I should have gone out earlier but I was having too much fun playing Mario Kart with Jaemin to even realise.

The street there began to look darker and darker as I entered the town. Just barely lit enough for me to see. The houses were very worn out. People still lived here, seeing how the light to the houses on the second floor are bright. But other than that, if all lights were switched off in the town, it would definitely look abandoned. Not a single trace of life to be seen.

I had trouble finding the house. I had to go deeper in to find the ribbon that was tied on the tree beside the house. Remembered it to be bright red. Years have passed and it’s almost nothing now, only strings of it left to hold it together.

I saw the ladder already prompted on the house for me to climb up. Step after step, I tried my best to stay calm. Though on the last step, as I peeked my head over, there he was.

The Jeno I haven’t seen in more than five years. The Jeno I had forgotten despite him giving me the best memories for us to live by. The Jeno that I hates but I now realise I couldn’t as I looked back on our relationship. I loved him. And though he never showed his love back other than platonically, I was still greatful for it.

“Hey.” I heard him say. His voice got way lower than it used to. “Hi.” I breathed out, finally getting on the rooftop as I quickly take a seat next to him. He apparently had lit a candle in front of him.

“You got my envelopes.” He stated.

Not replying, I took the time to look at his face. He certainly outgrown better than I expected. Puberty hit him like a truck. The features that pulled me in are now more prominent and defining, his soft fluffy hair still looked fluffy. Though his hair is now blue. Questionable, but with that face of his, he can pull of anything.

“I’m sorry for leaving you that night.” Jeno said after taking in a deep breath and hugging his knees close to his chest. His eyes kept straight to the front. It looked like he was too afraid to look at me.

“On the last night before you left. What you mumbled to me but couldn’t catch. Was that what you meant?” He nodded, tlting his head down.

“I’m sorry.” Jeno said again, his voice ever so soft and gentle but he could be at the brick of tears by the sound of it.

“I’m sorry for breaking the promise that we’ll leave this shitty town together. For saying that I’m not one to break a promise. Ours was the only one I broke till now. I was scared on making any other promises after you. I know you suffered a lot because of me. And I’m sorry I couldn’t give you an answer at that point of time when you’re most hurt.”

Jeno sniffled, running a hand through his hair. “Not seeing you for years, I kept thinking how I couldn’t be with you on your worst day and your best. We depended on each other so much I thought about how you could even survive without me. But I’m glad to see you’re doing well.”

I heard him sob. After he spilled out the last sentence, he broke into tears, hiding his face from me by wrapping his arms around. I didn’t know what to do. I reached a hand out, my finger inches away from his back to give a light rub. I finally placed the hand down, making him tilt his head up and turning to me. Finally our eyes met.

It’s like I was sucked into the swirl pool of his eyes. I drowned in them, fully mesmerised by it. I kept my eyes on him as I feel the nostalgia kicking in.

“You underestimated me.” I said. Jeno chuckled weakly. It sounded way more intense and low now. It made me feel some type of way. “I did.”

“How’d you even come up with the envelopes?”

“I had to find a way to talk to you. I would have searched you up online...” Jeno kept silent for a moment. “But it wouldn’t have been romantic.” He answered plainly.

My forehead creased as my eyes narrowed down at him. Tilting my head slightly, I asked, “Romantic? What do you mean?” I was suddenly intrigued.

Jeno’s lips pursed into a thin line. Both his brows were raised as he glanced sideway before looking at me again. “An excuse would be that I’m a literature major and it’s in my nature to be poetic and old school.” He joked. I let out a sigh, breathing out a soft chuckle.

“But other than that, I liked you. I-I mean I still do. I like you. I have never forgotten you. No matter what you thought. The fact that I didn’t tell you properly that I was leaving hurt my heart so so much. I couldn’t even confess my feelings for you before I left. I love you, _____.”

I froze. Every inch of my muscle prevented me from moving as I say over whatever I heard in my head for the second time. Is what I’m hearing really true? He liked me, when all this time I thought he didn’t.

“We were foolish teenagers. Wild, and free. But my love for you never changed. We were continents apart. And I knew you would have hated my guts and forget me. But I still held on, wishing everyday that I’ll get to meet you.”

Jeno smiled. His eye smile. Now that— that’s something that didn’t change a single bit. He looked exactly the same years ago. I saw the younger self in him and it made me realise how much I missed him. How much I wanted to see him smile like that more. How much I wanted to have nights with him again. I wanted to restart it all.

“I missed you.”

“I hated you, but I miss you.” I leaned in subconsciously, probably too much to the point where our faces were centimetres apart, our lips could have brushed against each other if I made a single move.

“I missed you too.” 

I couldn’t tell you how ht my face got. It was burning. My cheeks were definitely flushed red and I didn’t even need a mirror to tell. 

Slowly, our lips met. For the first time, I’m kissing my first love. My first love’s lips on mine. It felt as though time froze. The wind stopped blowing. The trees and grass stopped rustling. Silence fell on us. It was almost magical. His lips were extremely soft and felt like it was a perfect fit for mine.

We didn’t move. But rather let out lips sit on each other with our eyes closed. A subtle kiss that meant so much. A kiss that’s storing all the feelings the two of us felt while we were apart.

I opened my eyes, my lips still on his while his eyes were still shut. His eyelashes grew beautifully and his eyelids were smooth and pretty. His skin looked too clean up close for it to be true even.

I felt his hand making its way to my waist. The way he did it made me feel as thought if was something natural for him to do. His hand placed comfortably on my lower back, an action that felt so normal despite it being the first time. And the same went with the kiss.

I was the first to pull back, licking my lips after. His hand was still on my waist, in a way it refusing to let me go. 

“You aren’t going anywhere... right?” I asked, uncertainty filling my tone. I had to know. I wanted him to stay. I want him to be with me again. I want to feel his love that only he could give; that only he could have an impact on me.

“I’m staying. I had to turn on my father for this. But I didn’t care. I just want to be with you again.” Jeno whispered.

“Don’t leave me again.”

Silence.

“That kiss is a promise. Like a true love’s kiss. And the world is going to give no cure to it, so that I’ll be with you by your side till the end.”

#nct x reader #nct 2020 #nct imagines #nct 127 #nct #nct ff #nct fluff #nct imagine #nct scenarios #nct angst #nct jeno fluff #nct jeno x reader #nct jeno #lee jeno scenarios #lee jeno imagines #nct lee jeno x reader #lee jeno x reader #nct lee jeno #lee jeno #jeno x reader #jeno imagines #jeno angst #jeno fluff #jeno fanfic #jeno ff #nct dream ff #nct dream x reader #nct dream #nct dream fluff

[peaches-writes]

member: hyunjin

wc: 1k

genre: angst, exes au that’s just it i think

note: just a little something i feel like i should put out into the world somehow (but not under independent means, so it seems lol). anw, i think im still on hiatus but hello! been a while

[11:57 P.M.] The elevator opens with an obnoxiously cheerful ding and bright white lights for 11:57 P.M. Hyunjin gestures for you to go in first with a shaky chuckle and you do the same with your tired smile even when it’s you going home. 

He insists harder, anyway, out of habit. You always came first, even in the little things, it seems. 

And you eventually do give in, a little easier than usual because it’s almost his birthday—or so you say as he steps in after and presses the button to his left. “L” for the lobby, 16 floors below from the roof deck where the birthday is untimely dwindling down. 

The elevator doors then naturally slide back close as Hyunjin takes his stance directly across from you, sharply cutting the mindless chatter and faint alcohol scent that you two leave behind then above you. 

Sixteen. In the now deafening silence, his warm ears notice the absence of the faint jazz music that played just hours ago when the two of you were going up. These days, your presence makes him feel as if I should say something but he still can’t, for the life of him, figure out even now that you’re alone again. 

Fifteen. He tries stealing a glance at you from the mirror you lean against but you catch him almost immediately with a teasing brow. For some reason, realizing how far apart you are from each other makes him choke out an untimely laugh. 

Fourteen. “What?” 

Thirteen. Did you know that buildings don’t label their 13th floor as such because it’s supposedly bad luck? Now, Hyunjin just wishes there was one at least in this building just so he can trick myself into thinking that he has more time with you. 

Twelve. “Hm? Nothing.” You expected that answer out of him, he can tell by the way you nonchalantly nod in response almost right after. 

But he really wanted to say a lot of things. How are you? Did you enjoy the party? 

Can I still see you after this? 

Eleven. You notice him swinging in place as he looks up at the screen indicating the floor. Under other circumstances, you would’ve laughed or joined him but he only hears silence from your end. You must be really tired. 

He stops before the 1 becomes a 0. 

Ten. Nine. Nothing ever really felt right with these numbers for him. They just look weird in some way that makes him feel uneasy. 

Eight. Now, that is a number he likes, sometimes along with 7 when he’s in a good mood. But as the sentiment of the saying goes, the things we like always end up passing too quickly for our liking, even floor numbers. 

Hyunjin peek at your reflection from the mirror next to him this time and sees you texting someone on your phone. 

He doesn’t want to think that it’s the guy from the cafe a few days ago. 

The typing is sonically faint but it rings twice in his head as they come in the moment and it makes him feel dizzier than ever. Unintentionally, he misses the sight of the number 6 flashing above his head because of this. 

He does catch the screen slide down to 5, though, and he guesses you notice it too as it slows down to 4 and the doors suddenly open to an empty corridor. 

The two of you both poke your heads outside to no one in particular, catching a few lit-up rooms of hushed whispers and familial laughter in the distance. Hyunjin looks over at you and shrug as coolly and nonchalantly as he can. 

You smile knowingly in return, as if you can still see through how he’s terribly afraid of the dark. 

The doors then close on its own as you both take a step back further into the elevator, proceeding down to 3 and 2. He lets out a yawn in between and pretend to lean against the railings lining the mirrors. 

“You should sleep the whole day after.” You point out without even looking up at him, just as the elevator reaches the M floor. 

You might not even care about it now, seeing as it’s so late at night, but you don’t ask him this time why it’s labelled as the M floor instead of the 1st floor like you did when you were going up. Not that he knows the answer now hours later. When did he even know about things you wanted, anyway? 

You finally reach the lobby, “L” as the elevator finally announces before opening with the same obnoxious ding once more. The doors open to a soft lone orange light by the main entrance, instead, and you politely wave goodbye to Hyunjin. He holds the doors open for you with a tired smile and a goodnight on his end. 

But somehow, his finger doesn’t leave the button even when you turn your back on him and walk away. 

“Wait!” He finds himself blurting out at the last moment before you can even disappear down the steps, like he always does. 

You turn around belatedly, phone still in your hand. You were about to hold it higher for a phone call. 

The diamond ring on your finger, even in the dim glow of the lobby, shines a little too brightly for my tired eyes. 

He didn’t actually plan for this. But he still has so much he wants to say and he strongly feels like you should at least hear one of them before you go. 

“Stay safe.” He ends up saying after a moment, flinch slightly in place and clearly indicating that that was not not what he meant to say. “Text me when you get home?” 

He meant to ask, above all of the unspoken words, if you still love him. It’s a long shot but he just needs to know before you disappear completely. 

And you vaguely let him know. You nod in acknowledgement and he just knows by this that you purposely chose not to read between the lines this time. “Happy birthday?” You point to your watch right below your phone as it reaches for a call. “Go back up, the boys must be waiting with your cake and candles by now.” 

“Thank you.” For everything. 

He then lifts his finger off the open button as soon as your ride pulls up on the driveway. The ride back to the party is faster this time. 

m.list

@skzwriternet 

#districtninewriters #stayhavennet #inkidz #skzwriternet #skz #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids au #stray kids oneshots #stray kids angst #stray kids #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz au #skz oneshots #skz angst #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #stray kids hyunjin #skz hyunjin #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin au #hyunjin oneshots #hyunjin angst #stray kids hyunjin imagines #stray kids hyunjin scenarios #skz timestamps #stray kids timestamps

[baepsaetan]

Novocaine Enough | Yoonseok | Part 1

Amazing banner credit to @joonscore​​

Part 2 -> Part 3

Pairing: Yoongi x Hoseok

Wordcount: 6.1k

Genre: Exes to lovers, angst, smut

Rating: 18+

Summary: Four years later, and Yoongi is still an itch under his skin. Hoseok is trying to move on, from his past life and his past love, but there are some voids that can’t be filled. Some needs that can’t be met. And when Hoseok enters a club and hears the music of the man he left so long ago, he realizes that some addictions can’t be healed by anything as simple as time.

Warnings: Swearing; implied, mentioned and past drug use/abuse (cocaine, ecstasy, weed, alcohol); past overdosing; mutually unhealthy relationship dynamic; explicit (kinda angry) sex, including biting, oral, gagging, rimming, edging, marking, barebacking, thigh riding.

Ao3 Link: here

A/N: This took me a disgustingly long time to complete, but I’ve limped to the finish line! I wouldn’t have got there without @ditttiii​​, who helped me talk through an early version of the fic. Also major thanks to my beta @birbdae​​ for cleaning up this long piece! 

Is there anything he loves more than stepping into a club for the first time? The easy answer is yes, but in the moment – in the present – right now – Hoseok can’t give the easy answer. Shoving through the door is like plunging into water, waves of heavy bass surging against him as he submerges into the half-remembered music and suddenly warm air. The change in temperature is a welcome relief after the cold outside and only serves to reinforce the sensation of entering a thicker atmosphere. Breathing in against the sudden pressure, Hoseok does a grateful little skip as he pulls off his beanie and gloves.

Next to him, Taehyung laughs, the deep sound competing with the heavy music beating at Hoseok’s eardrums. “Not even on the dance floor and you’re already starting?”

Tossing his head to get his dark hair out of his face, Hoseok grins. “That suggests I ever stopped.” He hadn’t. Not really. Once you start to dance – to inhale the music and turn it into pure, unadulterated movement – you don’t really take a break. You just… slow down, sometimes.

His companion grins, a boxy affair with no ridicule in it. And why should there be? Taehyung is a dancer, too, and a helluva good one, if Jimin and Jungkook are to be believed. (They usually aren’t, but in the case of a possible new crewmember, Hoseok is willing to lend a little belief.) He’s known Tae for a year now, since Taehyung became friends with Jungkook in one of their classes and started hanging out with the crew, but it wasn’t until a week or so ago that Kookie persuaded him to show off his stuff. Apparently, in the past, there’d been some kind of accident that stopped Taehyung from dancing, yet according to Jimin and Jungkook, that hadn’t shown at all when he finally broke out in front of them.

Hoseok will see the truth for himself soon enough, anyways; it’s not like they came to the recently opened club to just stand around. His eyes flick eagerly at the thought, scoping the place out.

It’s pretty packed, and given how huge a club it is, that’s saying something. This is one of those open area concepts, all sprawling space with two bars pushed off to the corners, and a much smaller upper area, almost an oversized balcony. On the far side of the club there’s a DJ booth that’s swarming with people in front of it, so much so that he can’t see through the crowd to whoever is getting them so pumped. And there are more people streaming in by the second; he and Taehyung have had to shuffle to the side several times since they stepped inside, and by now they’re almost plastered against the wall. That would have been disappointing, except that according to Jin, on Saturdays the floor gets cleared at around 11 and the serious dancers get to have a go at it for a while.

In the meantime… Spotting a gap in the crush of bodies, Hoseok takes his chance and darts almost seamlessly through, throwing over his shoulder as he does so, “You want something to drink?”

His companion follows, albeit more slowly. Not that Hoseok can blame him; Taehyung is broader than he is, making knocked shoulders and collisions almost an inevitability. When Hoseok makes it to the nearest bar, he’s left the other behind.

It gives him plenty of time to hover around the edges, admiring the form of the bartender, who puts Taehyung’s shoulders to shame. The man in question isn’t exactly the picture of grace – not like those in Hoseok’s crew – but his energy is so loud, so vibrant, that it makes up for nearly dropped glasses and a few hesitations as he mixes the drinks for various customers. The breathtaking smile helps; the way he goes from 1 to 100 the second anyone tries to complain about the wait time probably helps, too.

Red-faced and outraged, he’s chewing out some poor guy for that exact offense when Hoseok finally finds room to sidle up to the front of the bar. “And if you think I’m making you another Manhattan after that comment, you can stick it straight up – oh. Hey, Hobi!”

The offender slinks away as Hoseok shakes his head in mock seriousness. “Is Namjoon paying you to bartend or to insult customers?” he shouts over the deep resonance that’s currently more a feeling shuddering across the floor than a sound.

Jin’s indignation doesn’t fade so much as evaporate entirely. Blinking with easy complacency, a small smile playing across his face, he turns and begins prepping the order a girl apologetically yells at him. “Just to bartend. The insults I give for free.”

“Wow, a star employee.” Fake seriousness dissolving into something more real, he asks, “Will Namjoon be around tonight? I wanted to ask him about the competition the club is hosting.”

It takes a few moments to reply, Jin’s hands and concentration caught in the mixing profession before he pulls himself away. “Not until a lot later, if at all,” the bartender replies eventually. “He’s looking after Remi tonight, so if he comes it’ll be after she goes to sleep. And can you imagine Joon leaving her alone?”

“No,” Hobi admits. Namjoon dotes on his daughter so much (the few times a month that he gets her) that it would be a miracle if he showed up tonight. Which is a little inconvenient for Hoseok, but the vague annoyance is buried under the reminder that being a good dad comes before being a good club owner.

He stands in fidgeting silence – silence surrounded by sound and people – for a few moments, playing with the studded collar of his black jacket, watching Jin work, and trying to enjoy the music. Taehyung must have been caught by someone, which is fine and not unsurprising given that it’s Tae. However, the absence of his companion, and with Jin mostly absorbed in his drinks, has mild anxiety trickling under Hoseok’s heels and through his fingertips. He rocks on the former and drums the latter against the sleek black leather of his pants in an attempt to drive the restlessness out. It doesn’t work particularly well, but automatically he finds himself adjusting his movements to the rhythm of the bass, and the focus required does help.

Each song is mixed so well, there’s no weird or awkward moment for his concentration to snag on, and the transitions are seamless, so smooth that the DJ must have curated this tracklist with individual attention to each end and beginning. Not unheard of, exactly, but certainly a pleasure when compared to many of the jarring amateur attempts Hoseok has been subjected to before. Last they’d talked, Namjoon had mentioned he was looking to hire another DJ for his new club, and if this is the man… well, Hoseok just hopes he’ll be the same guy who’s doing their dance competition, too. Another question – or request – to throw Joon’s way the next time they meet.

He’s just about to resign himself to submerging back into the crowd in search of Taehyung when the boy in question pops up, all teeth and warm apology. “Sorry, hyung! I saw a friend I haven’t talked to in a while, and you were so far ahead already I didn’t think I could call you back, and I figured it wouldn’t hurt to talk for a bit so I paused and then I’d lost you and –”

“Don’t sweat it.” It’s always been a marvel to Hoseok that such a rambling and excited apology could sound sincere, but Taehyung makes it work one hundred percent. “Let me grab you something. What do you drink?”

“Oh, well, I like whiskey sours, but you don’t have to –”

“Whiskey it is.” As he turns away, Taehyung’s surprised expression isn’t lost on Hoseok. Yeah, he isn’t often this direct, but the young man’s never seen him at dance practice and besides, the music is scraping under his skin, rubbing his bones the wrong way in the best way possible. It’s forcing him into a different form.

Suiting word to deed, he returns to the bar, puts in Tae’s request along with his own. Like a cheerful despot towering behind his counter walls, Jin takes the order before other people’s, waving off the muted outrage of his customers with shameless ease. It’s good to see his relatively new job hasn’t reformed him too much; it’s not that Jin’s ever actively rude or cruel. but he just has one pace, and that pace is his own.

For all that Hoseok admires that quality in his friend, it still has him flushing and ducking his head apologetically at the accusing looks. He’s quick to grab the drinks, but when he tries to shove money at Jin, the other man waves him off. “My treat,” the bartender calls. “When you all start dancing, everyone’s going to get thirsty and I’m going to be getting tons of tips!” His laughter quickly spikes too high to be heard in this crowd, but he’s still laughing as Hoseok, even more flushed, winds through the press of bodies with the glasses held high.

When he reaches Taehyung, his companion just sips his drink, but Hoseok downs his. The burn down his throat is no more intense than the burn he feels building in his muscles. A different kind of heat.

He finds himself shifting, his body beginning to ache with impatience. Tae is an entertaining person, but Hoseok's restlessness is blazing through his concentration, leaving cinders in its wake, and words of any kind – no matter how entertaining – are a poor thing in comparison. While he's always eager to move when at the club, this is a new level of agitation, a heightened awareness of the sounds and heavy ambience, and at first, he doesn't know what has him so on edge.

They talk some more, just waiting, really, for Jimin and Jungkook to arrive. Taehyung doesn't have a car and Hoseok had agreed to drive him, and Jimin was going to drive Jungkook after a late class. They should be here within half an hour or so, though in the meantime Tae, ever obliging, grabs he and Hoseok two more rounds of drinks. It's while he's grabbing the third round that the impatience becomes less of a hum and more of a howl, and Hoseok grasps with a sudden jolt that it's because of the song that's currently playing.

Whoever is mixing this music is really doing an amazing job; the song modifications, amplifications and beat alignments almost make the atmosphere come alive, and all it needs is an avatar to show off just how much energy it really has. He could be that. He should be that. It’s almost like he and the DJ are in a private conversation, and they’re egging him on, jamming little pinpricks into his joints, demanding he dance.

His mouth is dry – too dry – but that's nothing new when he's in the club, and Hoseok hardly notices it. The next song has just come on, as seamlessly as the last, and with a sharp pang of understanding, Hoseok realizes why he feels so tense, even more so than usual.

This DJ – whoever they are – has similar tastes as Yoongi. The powerful flow of thudding music is creating something in Hoseok, a kind of nostalgic frenzy, and it makes him swallow hard, swallow again with the feeling of shards of glass and regret slipping down his throat. He hasn't heard a DJ who favours reverb and synth choruses so much since the last time he'd guested at one of Yoongi's gigs. How long ago was that? Four years? He can hardly remember.

To remember is absolutely not why Hoseok is here.

"Hyung?" Taehyung says something to him, has said it more than once, to judge by his tone. Hoseok snaps his eyes to the other man's face, his breath abruptly staggered. "Hyung, are you okay?"

"Yeah," and to Hoseok’s ears his voice sounds tinny, strained. "Yeah, I'm fine. Jimin and Jungkook should be here soon, right? I should go grab some alcohol for them."

"Do you wanna take your shot?"

"I will after. Be back in a sec."

"Sure...?" Taehyung's eyes are sharp and probing, uncomfortably and unexpectedly keen, and Hoseok can't remember if he knows about Yoongi. He definitely wouldn't know Yoongi – none of his friends do – because they didn't know Hoseok back then. So – there's no point in explaining. No point in bringing it up. Hoseok swallows again, and walks away, needing to escape. Although he can't escape the music.

He also can't help how his gaze skitters to the DJ booth, there and back again, short looks that can't penetrate the barrier of people crowded around it. It can't be him. It can't. The last time he saw Yoongi...

You didn't come here to remember, he reminds himself savagely.

Jin has seemingly even more customers pestering him than before, and just hands off the drinks without a fuss. This time, hypersensitive and too raw to accept charity, Hoseok makes him take the cash, pressing it to the counter when the bartender tries to decline. Head tilting, thick eyebrows furrowing, for the first time this night Jin looks something other than melodramatic, and Hoseok doesn't want that. He came here to dance, for Christ's sake, not have someone notice a mini-meltdown!

Hefting on a smile that feels like it weighs one thousand pounds, he brushes off his friend's concern and darts away, carrying a tray of glasses. He's hardly taken a few steps before he downs his drink. Too much, too fast, especially for him, but he needs the soft buffer of alcohol right now. Hoseok won't look at the DJ stand. It's not him. There's no way it could be Yoongi. And even if it were...

It's not.

And even if it were, what would he do? Go down on his knees and ask for forgiveness? Punch him in his bleakly certain face? Or–

It's not him.

The music resonates around him – through him – in shuddering waves, jarring his weak attempts to tamp it down, and Hoseok is starting to feel feverish with the familiarity of the flashbacks flickering through his head. He's definitely had too much to drink. He just – he needs to do something. He needs to move.

It is with a huge wash of relief that he gets back to Taehyung and sees Jimin and Jungkook have arrived. Jimin is dressed in faded denim jeans and a glittering blue and yellow jacket, though the jacket will probably be off by the end of the night if other nights are anything to go by. Jungkook is a little more subdued, just wearing a simple white t-shirt and black jeans, but his outfit makes the tattoo sleeve on his left arm pop. Both of them are standouts in the crowded space. Add in Taehyung with his black and white patterned shirt and matching headband, and Hoseok really can’t blame the number of eyes he notices settled on the trio.

Taehyung is oblivious to it. “You’re back!” he exclaims, leaping forward to help Hoseok with the drinks.

Jimin’s sultry expression – he calls it his performance face – is something he wears as easily as his brilliant jacket, and he shrugs it off with just as much aplomb when his gaze lands on Hoseok’s tight look. Eyes flickering about as if he could spot the problem, his smile becoming warmer but tinged with concern, the small man accepts the glass from Tae and then asks, “What’s up?” 

A grin can be a work of art, and Hobi turns this into a masterpiece. All ease and bright lines, no clouds in this painting. He’s not quite as good at lying outright, but the noise probably masks his beat of hesitation. “Nothing! I’m just excited to get started.”

“Makes two of us,” Jungkook comments, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he nabs a shot from Taehyung.

“Three!” Taehyung chimes in. They all fall silent, turning expectantly to Jimin.

He’s still watching Hoseok, his lips lightly pursued. Hobi can’t help his nervous titter at the close examination, turns it into a more raucous laugh. “You’re not excited, ChimChim? Come on, we’ve been talking about this for weeks!”

At last, Jimin breaks eye contact, if only to shove back the unruly silver bangs tumbling across his forehead. “I’m excited,” he says, apparently deciding to drop whatever he’d seen on Hobi’s face. “Just hope there aren’t too many rookie dancers around. We don’t wanna make them look too bad when we start.” The look he wears is nothing short of angelic, but Hoseok knows well enough the competitive edge that lurks under that innocent façade. Jimin likes to win.

Jungkook huffs a fervent agreement. He likes to win, too. He’s good at it. Actually, they all do, and they all are. There’s a reason Hobi’s put this particular team together.

Right. Something to focus on, instead of the shadow of memory that the music keeps trying to make more substantial. With a playful nod, Hobi notes with false regret, “Well, if Tae is as good as you say, they might be out of luck.”

“I’ll do my best!” the man in question promises earnestly, and Hoseok can’t be sure, but he thinks he sees a flash of… something… in Taehyung’s eyes. Maybe not the same sharp need to win that Jungkook wears blatantly and Jimin cloaks yet never lets go of, but something. Passion, at the very least.

Hell, it works for Hoseok. Who cares what drives his people, as long as it's driving them to work hard?

As long as it isn’t driving them straight off a cliff.

He knows exactly where that thought comes from, and unbidden he turns to the DJ booth. It’s still too crowded to tell who’s working there. Probably a good thing. At this point Hoseok doesn’t know what will hurt him more; if the DJ isn’t Yoongi, or if it is.

The rest of them are talking and drinking, and he listens with half an ear, half a brain, half a being. The other half is straining to tell if the music really is as familiar as he thinks it is. If he can match that melody with that moment, or that bass with that breath, or that reverb with that regret. It’s stupid, pointless, harmful, but he can’t make himself stop. How funny, that he could have sworn he was over this. Had drummed it out of his muscles and his head both. God, if only he could dance.

Like an answer from the heavens – or maybe elsewhere – the music suddenly cuts off. A voice comes on the mic, clear, crisp, and familiar, but not who Hoseok was half expecting. It’s Jin. “Hey ladies and gentlemen and everyone else. As ya’ll know, it’s time for the Saturday dance off! If you fancy yourself a dancer, stay where you are, otherwise get your ass out of the floor area marked by the thick black lines. If you didn’t know there was a dance off today and you don’t like it, there’s a big ass door under the exit sign. I think we’re over capacity anyways.” With a loud blare of feedback, he cuts off.

Slowly at first, then more quickly, people start wandering out of the space Jin had indicated, crowding against the walls, or heading to the smaller area upstairs. He thinks he sees a few people leave after the announcement, but that might have just been a coincidence. By the time things have cleared, there are some twenty people on the dance floor, not including his crew.

This is exactly what he needs to clear his mind. Hoseok observes those left, his head tilted, an easy smile unconsciously gracing his lips. He can tell at a glance a few people are just idiots who want to flail around and call it dancing. There’s nothing wrong with that, exactly, but experience has taught him that people like that usually get pretty embarrassed when they suddenly find themselves next to professionals. Unless they’re really drunk, in which case they’ll just be a slight distraction. Nothing his guys can’t handle.

As for the rest… Hoseok actually recognizes two women, a couple he’s met at a few competitions, both official and underground. They’re good. Really good. His smile grows, and amid the tingling warmth of all the alcohol he’s had, there’s a fiercer burn, a kind of exultant excitement. He’s too drunk, probably, but this is crystal clarity, a heatwave burning everything unimportant and leaving just his focus and his friends.

And the music. The DJ regains control of the mic system, and he’s starting off with something heavy, almost ominous. The bass is shaking the floor, shaking Hoseok’s foundation, and he finds himself shaking in response, with little tremors of tension. Whoever’s running the music, they know how to start a show, and Hoseok is aching to finish it.

This isn’t an actual competition, of course. No judges, or set songs, or styles. It’s freestyle, and if there’s any kind of critic, it’s the crowd, already buzzing with anticipation and adding to the air of expectation. Hoseok breathes in and it feels like he’s inhaling something far more than air.

Because this isn’t run by anyone official, there are no rules about who can start, or how, or when. While Hobi and the rest of the serious dancers size each other up and feel out the rhythm, a trio of wasted kids stumble into the center of the floor. Their awkward floundering is laughable, and so Hoseok does laugh, a joyful sound echoed by Jungkook and Taehyung and a good deal of the crowd and competitors. It’s not unkind, at least not on Hobi’s part; he’s just too excited to reach the level that’s so far above these people to keep back the explosion of mirth. 

Jimin’s lip is lightly curled when Hoseok glances at him, but though he isn’t laughing, he’s squirming in place, clearly impatient to start.  

Why keep him waiting?  

“You ready?” he asks his crew, a redundant courtesy. They are. “I think we go low for this one? I’ll take the center? Let’s go… Jimin, then Jungkook, then Taehyung? And keep heavy on the left?” Phrased as questions, but they aren’t, just more courtesy, letting Taehyung know how he wants to approach this. They’ve already discussed general four-person set-ups, with Tae and without. The other two know what Hoseok wants. Everyone nods, short, sharp.

He steps forward. Not far. Not really enough to crowd the hammered trio’s space. Just enough to announce their presence and give them room to work. His friends follow, and Hoseok can almost feel them at his back. The wide grin has faded, replaced with an unintentional intensity that, unbeknownst to him, makes it hard for people to look away. Most of the laughter in the crowd dies, replaced by wire-tight quiet.

In that quiet, he begins. Slowly to start. Why hurry perfection? The music pours into his marrow and he turns it into movement, gives it form and features for the simple price of sweat. Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung join in several beats later, not quite matching his moves or each other, but close. Distorted shadows. They flicker in time with the rhythm, a collection of power moves loosely connected by breaking. Hoseok breathes, draws in the crowd’s awe and admiration, and turns it into fuel as he burns through everything but the music. 

Worries, memories, regrets, nothing can survive the blaze of his concentration, and Hoseok feeds them to the flames with ruthless abandon, glad to feel them smoulder to ashes.

 His moves become sharper, harsher. Everything gets so much more defined when he dances. The audience, his friends, his body, they all assume a stark clarity, almost painfully distinct. He doesn’t worry – he just moves. The music pulses all around him, urging him on, a nameless connection, and as the fluid lucidity gets even sharper, he prepares to speed up.

Soon – in fact, at what feels like exactly the right moment – the song flows into something else. Faster and more electronic. His body reads it almost before his mind does and Hoseok feels himself changing his motions to fit. More popping now. It feels right to hit the floor, so Hoseok does, in a totally controlled spin on his back that nonetheless looks wildly, perfectly out of control. He stops with a shoulder roll that allows him to transition to his feet, making room for Jimin to step forward and claim center as the crowd cheers.

Jimin is… fucking beautiful. The thought is a vague spark without solid form in the midst of Hoseok’s movement, but it’s true all the same. He dances differently than Hoseok or Jungkook, more gracefully, like any second he could swap his bones for the wind and begin to fly.

Not immune to the effect, but far too disciplined to fall for it (much), Hoseok keeps up his pace next to Jimin, letting himself relax even further into the music. The drunk trio are long gone, shuffled off in embarrassment, but some of the others are inching closer. They’re being polite – letting his crew get in a full rotation – but that’ll end soon enough. He relishes their interest. Not because he has something to prove, or particularly cares what they’re thinking, but because once they start to respond, it’ll be another bar to aim for, another goal, one more reason to keep dancing. And God, does he want to keep dancing.

Jungkook is next, powerful, demanding. He hits each move like it’s personally offended him, smashes into the poses as if he wants to break through reality and reach some other plane. When his feet hit a series of rapid beats in quick succession, it’s enough to get the crowd, already primed, to start whistling and whooping.

Hoseok finds himself doubting his choice to put Taehyung last. From what he’s seen from the corner of his eye as they’ve gone, Tae has kept up fine, his movements slick and confident. Maybe just a hair slower than the trio, but that could easily be chalked up to a lack of familiarity, given how much the other three have practiced together and how long Taehyung has been on a break. Still, asking him to follow up what Jimin, Jungkook, and Hoseok himself have already shown… He’d thought it would give him time to settle any nerves and see how they all approached being center, and Jimin and Jungkook had sung his praises to the high heavens, but now it seems like it might have been cruel.

Taehyung moves into the middle, and for some reason there’s a sudden swell of appreciative screams. Not from anything Hoseok can see from behind and to the side – maybe Tae had made a particularly great expression? The screams don’t really… stop… after that. From what Hoseok can observe, he gets it.

Turns out it wasn’t cruel to put Tae last. Like, at all.

The man is a consummate performer. Several times, when Taehyung’s supple steps put his back to the front and Hobi can see his face, he’s almost literally struck by how good his facials are. Passion is the name of this game and Tae plays it to perfection, his expressions conveying such a range of intensity that it’s a surprise he hasn’t started a fire with his glower alone

Hell, Tae winks at him at one point and Hoseok finds himself grinning at the smug audacity, breaking his own fierce look. Whoops.   

He whips it back on, but they’re almost done, anyways. Another group has edged closer, brash with impatience, and a few seconds later start their own dance. Of course, Hoseok’s crew doesn’t give way immediately – like you could snatch the crown that easily – and for a little bit they’re actually dancing against the other crew. It’s a brawl of sorts, Hoseok’s favourite kind of fighting. It doesn’t last long enough (it never does), but it’s exhilarating while it does. The fact that their opponents are pretty good is just gasoline added to the flames.

However, if a good dancer knows how to step while on the stage, a great one knows when to step off the stage, and as the most recent song winds down, Hoseok stops himself. Unwillingly, painfully, but he does. He gives a short bow to the opposing group, granting them the floor amid a cascade of cheering. 

When he and his crew walk away, the shouting just gets louder, deafening in its wild appreciation. Exhilaration swells under his ribs, threatening to crack them with its overwhelming force. For just a moment, Hoseok hears the cheers, feels the way his body is still crackling with energy, remembers how good it had felt to move, and he’s complete. For just a second.

And then the moment is gone.

The rest of his friends are grinning under the praise of the clubgoers, a little playful swagger in their steps as they jostle each other, giving compliments and insults on the individual executions each had pulled. Jimin snags his jacket from a girl who had picked it up from the floor, waves with giddy appreciation at her. They’re quick to find a good spot to watch the other dancers, the crowd happy to give way after what they’d shown. A couple of people offer to get them drinks and Jimin accepts while Jungkook and Taehyung beam. They’re all practically glowing, flush with success. They’d done well; they deserve to be proud. He’s proud of them.

He can feel proud and still be hollow, right? The sudden empty fatigue hits him like a cement truck going 100. It’s almost always like this after he dances, and the more intense the performance, the harder he gets hit. Hoseok abruptly becomes aware of the sweat pouring off him, the waves of heat billowing across his skin, the strained, quiet pain of muscles stretched just a bit beyond their limits. He’s… tired isn’t right. He could do three or four more routines like that, all in a row, without getting truly, bodily exhausted.

Drained. Yeah. That’s it. Like he’d poured something vital into each move, spilled himself across the floor, until there was too little of him left.

Jimin and Jungkook know him well enough to give him a little space after a dance, but Taehyung isn’t in the loop yet. “Hobi-hyung!” Sweat has darkened the younger man’s light brown hair, and if it weren’t for his headband, it probably would have been dripping down his face. “Hyung, you were incredible! You have to teach me how to pop at your knee like that, I’ve only ever done my upper body!”

The disconnect is there, unbearably strong. It will fade in the next few minutes, leaving him just fatigued instead of full-on wrung out, but in the meantime Hoseok makes himself laugh. Taehyung deserves that much, even if it sounds strange to his ears. “Only if you teach me that expression you were wearing during the chorus while you were center. Think I saw a few people faint when you looked their way.” He laughs again, trying to make the sound more natural. Pretty much fails.

Taehyung seems grateful for the compliment, nonetheless. He bobs his head, flashing a boxy grin. “It’s not a fair trade. Making faces is easy; I think I’d have to be high to move like you were, if I ever could.”

His jaw abruptly tightens, tension arcing through his throat. So quick he wouldn’t have noticed if he weren’t expecting it, Jungkook and Jimin exchange a glance. They know (almost) all of his history. Jimin reaches out, plucks at Taehyung’s shirt sleeve. “Come on,” he whines. “Didn’t you see me? Don’t you think I was cool, too?”

It’s a masterful attempt at distraction, though Taehyung seems inclined to dwell on Hoseok’s moves. “Well yeah, of course! But what hyung did was –”

Jimin interrupts him. “Anyways, I want to introduce you to one of our friends,” he says cheerfully. “Seokjin-hyung. He works as a bartender here.”

“Oh, but Hoseok-hyung already–”

“I’ll come too!” Jungkook chimes in, and together they drag the bewildered Taehyung into the crowd and away. A kindness, letting Hoseok have this moment of weakness. What had he done in another life to deserve these people in this one?    

What had he done? For just a second, a memory enters his head, of a few colourful blue and red tablets sitting in an outstretched hand. A voice, achingly ironic and raspy, asking, “You ready to get ecstatic?”

He couldn’t have said if it was the pill or the voice that he longed more violently for after the sodden rush of dance-inspired euphoria was gone. Given the way his eyes cut to the DJ booth, Hoseok supposes he has his answer.

He has his answer, but he doesn’t have what he wants. The press of people has dispersed with the dance-off, the clubbers are more interested in crowding the square than swarming the DJ, leaving his view clear for the first time tonight. There’s a girl working the booth. Not someone he recognizes.

Not Yoongi.

A shaky exhale splits his clenched teeth, and Hoseok closes his eyes. He hasn’t been listening to the music since they stopped dancing – not really – but it sounds different now. No longer as intimate, the connection between him and the rhythm is broken. Had he just imagined that bond before the dance-off, made up that gut-wrenching familiarity? Given that he hasn’t taken any drugs tonight, he seriously doubts that he has the creativity to imagine something so vivid.

Maybe the girl DJing learned in the same style as Yoongi. Maybe that’s what set him off.

He hasn’t had any drugs tonight, but he’s still coming down from a high. That’s how it always is, after dancing. He told his friends, his family, that he got clean, but it was a lie. Hoseok just replaced ecstasy, his drug of choice, with something else. Movement instead of MDMA. Not a bad trade. He couldn’t have made a career off of being a chronic user, after all. Couldn’t have found happiness, either. Probably.

His mouth is bone dry, and he’s lost sight of his friends. They’re probably busy harassing Jin. For a while Hoseok watches the other dancers, fingers tapping out a pattern on his thighs in time to the beats, grateful for the chance to pull himself out of his despondency with a bit of friendly critique. From what he can see, the group that went after them is the most skilled so far. 

The couple he’d recognized earlier haven’t gone yet, and they’ll shake up the ranking, but slowly Hoseok settles into the comfortable conclusion that his crew is the best one here. It doesn’t matter – there are no announced winners – but it’s promising for the actual competition coming up in a few weeks.

Things get better. He gets better. He always does. By the time the couple finishes their piece – with a flourish of partner flips that have him joining the raucous cheering – Hoseok is back to feeling energized by the sweat still slick on his skin. He’s back to being overjoyed by the music beating against his eardrums, back to savouring the crush of bodies and noise and life that scream nothing more than here you are, right now, isn’t it amazing!        

Even stepping in a thick puddle of someone’s spilled drink isn’t enough to dampen his spirits.

With a grin and a lighthearted curse, Hoseok heads to the bathroom, intent on wiping off his shoes. Sticky sneakers are a fact of life at clubs, but given that it’d been a mini lake of beer and he hates the sensation of his feet peeling across the floor, this seems to be a justified trip. Even better, the dance-off is finishing; he won’t be missing anything.

It’s as Hoseok is leaving the washroom, shoes squeaky clean, that someone grabs his arm from behind. Hard. He startles with a yelp that’s barely audible over the raucous noise of the club, his heart rate spiking. Moving jerkily with the admittedly excessive alarm pounding in his chest, Hobi turns to berate whichever of his friends thought it would be funny to sneak up on him.

Freezes. Stares. Doubts.

Hoarsely ironic, Yoongi observes, “Still as jumpy as a cat on hot bricks, huh?”

#yoongi x hoseok #yoongi #hoseok #yoonseok #sope #yoonseok smut #thebtswritersclub #networkbangtan #my fic

[fanfickittycat]

Time After Time

TITLE: Time After Time

CHAPTER NUMBER/ONE SHOT: One Shot

AUTHOR: fanfickittycat

FANDOM: Haikyuu!!

CHARACTERS/PAIRING: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader

GENRE: Hurt/Comfort

FIC SUMMARY: The lack of a response after confessing your feelings to Ushijima leaves you heartbroken, but all it took was some time

RATING: T 

AUTHORS NOTES/WARNINGS: My stupid sad brain and my desire to write about Ushijima combined to make this. If you’d like to read it on AO3 you can find it here

The words hung in the air as soon as they left your mouth. After the months of pining, and dreaming, and trying to get him to confess first, you had finally decided to bite the bullet and admit that you were hopelessly in love with the Ace of the Schweiden Adlers. The silence that followed was painful. You avoided his gaze, instead looking at your shoes, a pair of dark heels that you were hoping would bolster your confidence. In fairness to them, they had made you feel powerful and poised, but now it felt like balancing on stilts.

“Oh” his deep voice rumbled, breaking through your thoughts and sending the butterflies in your stomach fluttering all at once. You peeked up to look at him. He was so handsome. Tall and solid, with his bag slung over his shoulder from practise earlier in an effortless way that you admired. He always looked so cool without even meaning to. He was looking up at the pinks and oranges of the sky, letting the light of the setting sun cast his face in gold. Your heart somersaulted in your chest as you waited for something to follow. Anything. But he remained quiet, as the spring breeze ruffled his hair.

Dread began to set in. The flush of embarrassment and the chill of rejection created a cocktail of emotion inside of you, but you pressed your lips together and forced the sob in your throat to stay still. You knew you were going to cry and there was no stopping it, you just wanted to make sure you were away from him before the tears spilled.

“I-it’s okay” you said, your throat felt hoarse even though you hadn’t said much. You attempted to straighten up, to show him that you accepted his refusal of your affection. You tilted your head up, feeling the threat of tears in your eyes. Your lip quivered but you stayed rigid in your stance.

“I’m sorry I bothered you” you managed to say before a hot tear streamed down your face. You turned, letting go of a breath you had been holding for what felt like weeks. You marched away, willing your legs to take steps even though it felt like you suddenly forgot how to walk. You rounded a corner and stepped back so that the cool exterior of one of the buildings pressed against your back. You had half hoped to hear footsteps following after you; a cry of your name or something. Nothing. Dizziness filled your mind and you slid down the wall, hugging your legs to your chest as you wept into your knees. You knew you were being pathetic but really, you had believed that there was something there. Ushijima was always standoffish, but you had felt something kindled between you, a soft warmth that emitted every time his lips tugged into a small smile for you, or the way he’d listen to you and offer his advice sagely. Last week you had gone to a practise game of his and you’d cheered loudly enough to catch his attention. He had waved to you and even though the action was small it made you mindlessly happy for days. His cold demeanour meant that he didn’t do things like that for just anyone… But perhaps his tiny gestures were just that, insignificant. Maybe he was humouring you? Perhaps he smiled just because it was the basic kind thing to do; and he listened and offered advice because he wanted you to stop going on about your problems; maybe he just waved because he was being polite. The realisation sunk deep into you, seeping into your bones. You felt heavy and tired by the revelation. You stood up shakily, grasping at the brick wall behind you for support. You ended up grazing your hand a little, but the soreness felt good in a weird way. It brought your attention away from the turmoil in your heart. You made yourself walk home, wanting to take your time because you were afraid of having to confront the emotional maelstrom in you again. You felt like hell when you woke up the next morning. Your eyes burned, and when you rubbed them, you winced at the soreness. They felt swollen. Your nose hurt too from the constant blowing, and your mouth felt dry and stale. Pathetic was the first word in your mind. Followed quickly by sad, tragic, and pitiable. You had things to do today, places to be that weren’t your bedroom. You ran through the list of chores in your head: it was Saturday so you should change your sheets today, and clean the bathroom, and you needed to make a grocery list and go out to buy the stuff, and then you should get a head start on some work that would make Monday easier. You closed your eyes again and when you opened them two hours had gone by. You groaned into your pillow. Not only were you unfortunate, but you were also now behind on everything. A true mess. You pushed yourself to go take a shower, making the water colder than you usually liked in an attempt to shock you back to life.

You completed your tasks at home, but you felt lifeless doing it, like a zombie. The satisfaction that came with completing the chores didn’t come. You hoped the fresh air would help, and looked over your grocery list, feeling listless. You didn’t want to put any effort into the way you looked today, opting to throw on a pair of jeans that were ripped at the knee not because they came like that, but because they were old. Your hoodie was huge on you, but you had bought it with the deluded intention that this is what it would feel like to wear Ushijima’s. You looked at his clothes so fondly sometimes, jealous of the way they got to be so close to him. One night he had lent you his jacket because it was colder than the weather reports had predicted and you almost swooned. His jacket was sturdy and warm like him, and it smelt vaguely minty and clean like him. You had ended up falling asleep in his jacket, liking the way it felt like he was holding you.

The memory flooded back into your mind when you browsed the soap section, prompting your heart to race as you looked for his brand. When your eyes landed on it felt like a relief. A painful one, perhaps, but a relief all the same. Your hands hovered near the bottle. This was a way to stay close to him even when you couldn’t physically be with him. A link to the stoic man who had your heart. It was a little more expensive than the one you usually bought, and it stung that your normal brand was on sale, but you wanted to allow yourself one indulgence.

Outside the air was colder than last night. You’d heard something this morning about a cold spell hitting Tokyo as you folded your laundry, and you wished that you brought a scarf with you. Your arms ached from the weight of the bag in your hands. In the process of psyching yourself up to face the world you had forgotten your own bags and had to pay for some in the supermarket. The plastic, though biodegradable, felt thin in your cold hand. You gripped it tightly and turned to go home but your determination was interrupted by the thump of items hitting the ground.

“Fuck” you cursed under your breath, looking down at your groceries strewn about on the pavement. You could’ve cried there and then.

“I didn’t know you favoured this brand too” your blood turned to ice as your eyes snapped to the figure before you. He regarded the bottle calmly before starting to pick up the pack of spaghetti, and the bag of apples.

“U-Ushijima?” You hated that you stuttered but your mind was completely blank at this point. You couldn’t even fathom how you were able to form that many syllables.

“Here” he started to pile your things into his own empty bag.

“W-wait.” You put a handout to stop him, but he ignored you, continuing to put the rest of your things in his own grocery bag.

“It’s cold. Didn’t you hear the weather report?” He asked, finally standing to his full height. He looked down at you, head cocking to the side slightly like a spaniel. He began to unwind his scarf and placed it around your neck instead. The brush of his fingers against your bare neck made you shiver.

“What’re you doing?” you mumbled, looking down again. The sense of déjà vu was not lost on you as you regarded your everyday sneakers.

“I came to buy groceries” he said bluntly, and despite all the pain and anxiety coursing through you, you smiled. He was always so reliable.

“I was hoping I would run into you” he said after a beat, his hand held your chin making you gasp. He tilted it up, so you were no longer looking down, and this time he was meeting your gaze. His dark olive eyes bore into your own with an intensity that was difficult to hold.

“You don’t need to apologise or anything.”

“You’re wrong” he said “I do. I’m sorry.” You nodded at his words, disappointed once again that you were still holding out for him.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not, I…” he stopped himself, and pressed his lips into a firm line. You blinked a couple of times to make sure you were seeing things right. Ushijima was so candid all the time that the sight of him hesitating was new. He looked away momentarily.

“I return your affections” he said, and you stared in awe as a faint pink blush blossomed in his cheeks.

“You don’t have to say that.” He looked you in the eyes again, softer this time. His thumb absentmindedly began to stroke itself across your heated cheeks.

“Yes I do. I love you and I’m sorry I couldn’t say it yesterday.”

“Ushi…” you practically melted despite the chill in the air. He leaned down and pressed a kiss onto your forehead, making your head swim.

“Come” he said, letting go of your face in exchange for your hand “I’ll make dinner.” You made no attempt to protest against his wishes, instead letting him lead you in the direction of his own apartment.

“I love you too.”

#fanfickittycat #updates #fanfic #fanfiction #haikyu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu ushijima #haikyuu ushiwaka #haikyuu ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima headcanons #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hc #anime fanfic

[sevlgi]

believe

requested: no

group: blackpink

pairing: jisoo x fem!reader

genre: fluff

contents: guardian angel!jisoo, near death instances, unlucky reader. [22/33].

warnings: none

synopsis: You’ve never believed in guardian angels, but that just might change when you’re saved from certain death 3 times in one week.

a/n: idk if I’ve ever seen anyone do a similar au... tell me if you have! also i’m actually hella proud of this one lmao

word count: 1.8k

Do guardian angels exist?

Well, that’s a subjective question, and there really isn’t a yes or no answer... But if yours does, they’re doing the shittiest job of the century.

The amount of times you’ve been hurt in the past, both physically and emotionally, is stupidly high. You’ve always had an aptitude for getting injured, stories of broken bones and gashes making up basically half of your entire life. Your friends and family pride themselves on having a fully loaded arsenal of embarrassing tales, practically making it a rite of passage to visit the hospital with you. And don’t even mention the heartbreaks- those just seem to follow you wherever you go.

When you move to a different city for what must be the 10th time, you vow that it’s going to be different, no matter how obvious it is that it won’t. You vow that there aren’t going to be any incidents that land you in the hospital, nor any relationships that just end in chaos.

Suffice to say, all of that goes haywire on your first day in town.

Without a car to drive you to work or any friends to hitchhike off of, you take the subway, line #224 to Solace Building. There just so happens to be a new girl group song you’re obsessed with, blasting on the highest possible volume in your earbuds, when you’re shoved from the back right into the subway tracks. “Fu-”

Time slows down as you start to fall, the dusty railways coming too close to your face for comfort before a warm hand wraps around yours, the socket of your arm straining to carry your entire weight as you’re jerked back sharply.

You collide with a warm body, soft curves lessening the impact and delicate, impossibly strong hands steadying you on either side of your waist. By all logic, you should’ve knocked your savior over, should be sprawled on the ground right now with dirty palms and a heat-flushed face. “Are you okay?”

When you step back sharply, you’re met with the sight of the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen in your life. Her heart-shaped smile and delicate features are framed with cascading brown hair, and she has ethereally flawless porcelain skin. She’s the kind of beautiful that makes the plainest outfit look designer, that could make you believe sea glass to be pure diamond. “Uh. Y-yeah. I’m good.”

“I’m glad,” she chuckles, smiling even wider and tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. Maybe she doesn’t realize the effect she has on you, humming as she dusts something invisible off your bag. “You should be more careful, Y/N, wouldn’t want someone as pretty as you being killed by a train.”

If it was anyone else, the words would sound creepy, especially with the added factor of the girl knowing your name. “How-- how do you know who I am?”

She juts her lips at the card hanging off your bag, your name written in big, bold letters. “Nametag. Y/N Y/L/N, employee in Solace Building?”

To hide the heat in your cheeks, you look to the floor and stutter out, “Well. Since you know my name, uh, isn’t it fitting that I know yours?”

It’s not nearly as smooth as you’d like it to be-- usually, the natural flirt in you would’ve made an appearance-- but the petite brunette extends a hand, tipped with gentle pink nails. “Jisoo. Kim Jisoo, if that’s helpful at all.”

Your next words are interrupted by your train arriving; when Jisoo doesn’t follow you on, you turn to look at her with your eyebrow quirked. “Are you...?”

“Not my train,” she smiles, shaking her head, even though it’s the only one arriving for hours where she stands. “Good to meet you, Y/N. Stay out of trouble!”

It’s an odd way to end a first meeting, but you don’t think much of it as you grab the nearest seat and pull out your phone to search her up. K-I-M J-I-S-O-O, you type, eyes scanning the screen fervently as the train starts.

Plenty of people show up-- after all, Kim Jisoo is not a rare name-- but none of the dozens of profiles you click through are the beautiful girl who saved your life. It’s too late when you look back out the window towards the station, the only thing you see becoming brick wall.

The next time you almost die, you’re just walking to the coffee shop across from your apartment.

The activity should be safe, considering that not many people in the area own cars. At first, you think you are safe, crossing the silent street with no problem and receiving your usual order just fine; you’re on your way back to your lonely little apartment when you hear the screeching of car tires on the road.

“Watch out!” someone screams, but you’re frozen in the middle of the crosswalk. You forget how there wasn’t a single car in the street when you were crossing as you stare at the grill coming close. The car doesn’t stop or slow down, and you scrunch your eyes shut with your arms raised up, just waiting for the impact.

It never comes. When you hesitantly open your eyes again, you find a familiar figure standing in front of you, the force of her hand having knocked your coffee onto your blouse. The car bumper is pressing into her bare leg, which is miraculously clean of a scratch or bruise, but she doesn’t seem to notice as she turns to grin at you.

“Sorry, I ruined your coffee,” Jisoo frowns, her hand coming up to almost touch the steaming stain on your chest. You stare at her mutely, following obediently when she grabs your wrist and pulls you back to the coffee shop. “Can I buy you another one?” she offers, plucking a napkin off a street-side table.

“Kim Jisoo?” you say disbelievingly, not even feeling it as she dabs the coffee away. “You again?”

“Me again,” she confirms, pulling some more napkins out of her purse with a smile on her face. “I hope you’re not disappointed; after all, I just saved you from dying. Again.”

“No, that’s not...” Taking a deep breath, you smile too, wrapping your fingers around her hand to gently brush her off. “It’s okay. I’m glad to see you, actually-- I searched for your profile to thank you, but I couldn’t find anything.”

Jisoo shrugs, opening the door to the coffee shop for you. “Oh, I’m not really on social media. If you wanted my number, you could’ve just asked.”

You laugh lightly, tossing the crushed cup in your hand into the trash. Of course it’s odd that she isn’t on social media in the 21st century-- with her face, you’d expect Jisoo to be a major influencer. “Then I’ll ask for it. Later.”

“Of course. Order what you want, I owe you one after all that,” she offers, plucking a couple loose 20 dollar bills out of her purse.

Once again, you’re faced with another weird habit of hers, but you order anyway and thank her after she pays. Before you can say anything else, though, she gets a text and frowns at her phone. “Oh, sorry, I have to go. Catch you next time?”

“Sure,” you answer, forgetting to tell her that she still forgot to give you her number. You stand dumbly on the sidewalk and watch her go, taking a deep breath and looking both ways before you set off towards your apartment for the second time that day.

Maybe next time?

The third, and hopefully last time, is the absolute weirdest of all. 

You seem to have a thing for being knocked into ditches-- this time, a group of teenagers barrels into you while you’re walking by the side of the only river in your entire city. You open your mouth to tell them off, but before you can, an especially hard shove from an stocky little boy pushes you right into the water.

Luckily, the fall isn’t high, so you don’t hit the water with much force, but the boats cruising along and the recently terrible weather stir the current strong enough to pull you right under. In the icy water, you feel your fingers let go of the phone in your hand, your lungs slowly being crushed by the pressure of your surroundings.

It’s hard to tell how much time passes while you’re in the water. From what your doctors have told you, trauma is difficult to remember clearly for a while, but you vaguely feel hands linking in front of your chest and forearms bracing under your armpits to drag you out of the water.

The heat of the summer sun warms the stone under your back and you can hear whispers sounding around you as you flop onto the floor. Hands push hard on your breastbone, once, twice-

After maybe 30 pushes, fingers pinch your nose, and soft lips meet yours. It feels more like a kiss than CPR, no air really being blown into your mouth, but nonetheless, you feel water leaving your lungs, and you open your eyes in shock, coughing out loud.

To your (somewhat) shock, it’s the same girl hovering over you. Jisoo’s skirt is wet at her knees where she kneels beside you, her hands still hovering over your chest. She must’ve been the one giving CPR, then. Sitting up, you hack violently until most of the water’s out of your lungs, the other girl waving away all of the spectators. “How’re you feeling?” she asks, once you’re alone on the sidewalk.

Your hands move faster than your brain, pulling her forward by the nape of her neck until you kiss again, something about her tasting familiar in a way you can’t quite place. “Who are you?” you breathe once you’ve pulled away, searching her warm eyes for an answer.

She smiles again, handing you your miraculously dry phone instead of answering. It should be waterlogged and dead, but nothing seems to make sense when concered with Kim Jisoo. “How about you take me for dinner or something before asking the serious questions? Soup should be good to warm you up.”

Hand clasping in hers, you’re pulled to your feet with strength that doesn’t match her petite stature. You barely remember that you look like an almost-drowned rat, your lips purple with cold and your hair stringy with icy water. “Sure. Soup. But you need to answer me first.”

She exhales, hitching her bag higher up on her arm. “I’d say I’m your guardian angel, but you wouldn’t believe that, would you?”

“I wouldn’t,” you answer, eyes narrowing as you follow her down the street. “But maybe you can convince me. Over soup.”

#blackpink #blackpink x reader #blackpink imagines #blackpink scenarios #blackpink reactions #blackpink jisoo #blackpink kim jisoo #kim jisoo #jisoo x reader #jisoo #jisoo imagines #jisoo scenarios #blackpink in your area #blackpink is the revolution #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios #girl group reactions #blackpink drabbles #blackpink fluff #blackpink icons

[izzabeean]

Chapter 4 : Bitter

SUMMARY

Oikawa tries to distract you upon finding out about your break-up and it does seem to be working but only for a moment...

pairing : ushjima x f!reader / oikawa x f!reader / iwaizumi x f!reader

genre : angst + fluff

word count : 2,146

tags :  alternate universe - college/university, post-break up, friends to lovers, pining, slow burn

a/n :  I feel like things are picking up and I’m so excited for what this fic has in store! Apologies for the slow beginning, this truly is a slow burn. *NOTE: Kuri dorayaki is a traditional Japanese sweet, pancake-like bun with red bean paste and roasted chestnut filling.

masterlist

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Barely an hour goes by before Oikawa jumps at the chance to spend the day with you out and about in the city; it's not often he’s had the opportunity to, especially when you and Ushijima were together making most of your weekend's busy spending time with him. Of course, you were quite keen on spending the day inside, finding ways to forget the severe emptiness festering within, but Oikawa's excitement couldn't be ignored and with that, you agreed to spend the day out with him.

Honestly, if it weren’t for Oikawa's pestering, you wouldn’t have realized how much the fresh air fills you with ease a s you walk down the street listening to him babbling about his evening with Iwaizumi. Normally you are a very attentive listener, engrossed in his dramatic details, but today you found it very difficult to listen intently. Your attention shifted to the pairs of people passing by; some hand-in-hand, some giggling, and the sight makes sick to your stomach.

All these couples in love getting to spend time together. It’s so repulsive.

And you're bitter.

Bitter because you wish you had that. Bitter because you used to have that. Bitter because you miss Ushijima.

And because you miss him, you can't help but think back to when you first showed interest in each other. At that time, you and Ushijima had a weird friendship, actually, you weren’t really sure what it was as he only spoke to you at school. Topics didn’t stray far from assignments or classes, so it was very odd when he asked you to hang out one morning off of campus.  

“You didn’t have to wake me up so early,” you groan curled up in the passenger's seat of Ushijima’s car. Your eyes are heavy, as you press your forehead against the cold window examining the long outstretch of highway lit by the sky just moments before dawn breaks. Looking over to Ushijima you notice not a trace of fatigue that filters his eyes as they remain focused on the road ahead. 

“What is there to even do at 6 in the morning?” you yawn.

The sudden wake-up call was earlier than anticipated, you should’ve clarified that morning for you was 9 AM. But to Ushijima hammering his fist on your door was a more productive way to wake you up rather than a call or text. Truthfully, he found the results to be much more amusing and knew you could not ignore him.

“We had to in order to arrive on time,” he booms flatly, quickly casting a glance at you.

Your face contorts with irritation at the vague response and question if this is just a planned kidnapping. Maybe you were exaggerating a bit... Still, nothing else seemed reasonable.

“Well, will you at least tell me where we’re going?” you lash.

“We will be there soon,” he replies, calm and cool to your aggressive tone.

Crossing your arms in impatience, you scoff at his response then continue to look out of the window listening to the low murmur from the radio. 

It’s not much longer until Ushijima pulls into a gravel lot at the side of the road and parks. 

“We’re here,” he says getting out of the vehicle.

You tilt your head quizzically scanning your destination which is basically out in the mind of nowhere. Ushijima pops open the passenger door waiting for you to get out.

"Is this a joke?" you rasp.

"Just follow me," he says trying to hold back the irritation in his voice.

Unbuckling the seatbelt, you slide out of the vehicle and follow him, hopeful that there’s more to this deserted parking lot than just a dusty road. 

And there is because your eyes are met with a breathless view above the town. All at once, your doubts fade as the sun begins to rise at the atmosphere’s edge, drenching the houses and buildings in its golden glow. Everything feels so peaceful.

“This is beautiful,” you breathe, sincerely in awe of the picturesque sight. 

You are an idiot.

“Not gonna lie, I thought this was a kidnapping,” you joke.

Ushijima casts a confused glance at you, unable to understand what you were getting at. “I was told to take a girl I like to an intimate spot.”

A girl he likes? Oh.

Did he bring you here for advice? A hint of jealousy surfaces at the thought that Ushijima has his eyes set on someone else. And you wonder what his true intent was for bringing you here. 

“Maybe tell her where you’re going so she doesn’t get the wrong idea,” you tease.

“Tell who? You didn’t like the surprise?”

You blink. “Me?”

It never crossed your mind that you could be the one he likes. Obviously, he’s hot and every time he says your name your heart skips a beat, but you never thought anything of it.

“Yes.” 

Ushijima takes a step forward closing the distance between the two of you. His gaze is a lot warmer than usual evoking a strong pull at your heartstrings. You know your personality can be quite cold and temperamental, sometimes even hostile, but there was something more underlying your cheeky, sarcastic comments. Ushijima brought out a side to you that no one else really could.

A slight breeze picks up pushing your hair in your face, to which Ushjima leans in tucking the strand behind your ear. 

“Your hair was in your face, thought I should move it so I could see you better,” he utters.

He’s close, the closest he's ever been, and you're hot. 

You stare at him wide-eyed soaking in the electric chemistry floating in the air. You think your heart might stop as his hand moves under your jaw to tilt your face up at him while the other touches the small of your back bringing you closer; his touch is warm and soft cascading tingles down your body. Then he leans in even closer to gently press a kiss on your lips.  

“Hey! Pay attention!” 

Oikawa’s yell snaps you out of the nostalgia bringing you back to your walk with him in the city. But your daze only causes you trouble because you spot a bike unwavering from its path heading towards you. Your brain screams, telling you to move or do something, but your body freezes in place--all you sense is fear. 

Suddenly, your arm is yanked from the side, and with a yelp, you’re pulled to safety. It was unlike you to be so out of it, but you didn’t realize how much Ushijima occupied your thoughts until that moment. 

A lump forms in your throat as the cyclist passes you and you could hear him mumbling under his breath how unobservant pedestrians can be. 

“That was close,” Oikawa jokes.

His words startle you as you come to the realization that Oikawa’s arms are wrapped around your body. You look up at him as he stares down at you with his shit-eating grin that says “I just saved your ass big time .” Your eyebrow twitches at his expression and pry yourself away from his grip.

“I’m not going to thank you!” you shout, angrily. 

“Wow, so cruel Y/N-chan,” he whines with a giggle.

His laugh is all-consuming as you feel overwhelmed with frustration. It’s just like Oikawa to make everything completely insufferable, now you weren’t going to hear the end of it, of how he saved you from getting hit by a bike. He always knew the right way to get under your skin.

“Y/N-chan,” Oikawa calls, pointing to a vendor on the corner of the street selling kuri dorayaki*. “Would you like one?” 

Swiftly, the sweet smell fills your nose and the scent reminds you of your childhood, strolling with your family under the gold and crimson trees while the earthy, caramel air nips at you through your clothing. 

But you’re hesitant to give in to his peace offering. 

You didn’t want to be bribed, but as the flavors continue to float through the air, you could hear your stomach start grumbling.

Before you had a chance to oppose, Oikawa takes his wallet out while walking up to the food stand to purchase a couple of treats; one for you and one for him. Upon returning, he hands it to you and motions to take a seat on a bench nearby.

“What do I owe you?” you ask.

Oikawa waves his hands in the air, “Nothing, it’s on me.

You pause. The city noise rang in your ears as the sun gleams down blanketing you in warmth. It almost feels strange, having him be so nice, after all, teasing each other has become so routine that the pressure to say something nice resides in your chest. You don’t know what’s overcome you, you normally never second guess what to say to Oikawa, but his kindness really stunned you.

As the steam rolls off causing your mouth to water in anticipation of the flavors, you sink your teeth into the delicious pancake-like bun. The taste of the sweet red bean and chestnut coats your mouth bringing a sense of warmth inside washing away the feelings of anger and frustration. 

“Thank you,” you mumble, under your breath licking your lips. 

Oikawa smiles in response, “Anything for you!” 

Just as you were about to take another bite, you pause peering at a familiar figure across the street-- the only figure you could recognize from a mile away.

Ushijima.

“Do you not like it?” Oikawa looks at you with an uncharacteristic flash of concern.

You don’t reply as you keep your eyes locked on your ex who is in front of a bakery you’ve walked past a million times, standing next to a girl you’ve never seen before. It’s almost unbearable as she wraps her arm around his looking in the window at all the decadent sweets on display. You are nearly consumed with agony at the sight but can’t stop looking while he turns to fix her hair for her.

Just like how he used to with you.

Your gaze must have been burning because as he looks up in your direction. He pauses blankly staring; it’s the same look he’s always given you--stony and daunting--but it feels much more unsettling. And now you know, that he knows you’ve seen too much.

Your eyes dart back to Oikawa who’s traced your eye line to where you’ve been looking. You can tell he’s anticipating some sort of reaction, but all you do is look back to find Ushijima gone.

Your heart sinks.

Everything makes sense now.

“Isn’t that--” 

"Do you know her?" you cut Oikawa off quickly reverting to desperation. A sense of betrayal fills you as you study his face, noticing he looks like he wants to say something but is holding back.

"No," he scoffs, not sounding the slightest bit convincing. It's the kind of ‘no’ you give to someone you want to let down easy or you want to avoid telling the truth to. 

"Don't lie to me," you say, firmly.

Oikawa pauses.

The suspense feels like it could kill you as you watch the wheel in his head turn, trying to piece together the right thing to say. 

“Have you met the transfer student?” Oikawa softly asks. "I've seen her around campus but didn't realize…"

Transfer student? 

Your heart drops as the words echo in your head leaving the rest of Oikawa's explanation to fade in the background. 

“You’re joking,” you state plainly, unable to process the information and when Oikawa doesn't answer you know he's not. 

It wasn’t like Ushijima to leave you for someone else, not even the slightest sliver of you can believe it. He respected you and cared for you, was the one who initially made a move on you. How could that all just change, like a flick of a switch? Yet, it did and last night you were met with a Ushijima you didn’t know. He was cold and distant, unreadable to the point you were convinced he could be a stranger. But, of course, the evidence was right in front of you as to why. There was someone better.

Unfortunately, there was nothing you could do. You know immediately Ushijima doesn’t owe you an explanation because you weren’t together anymore.

"Let's go," you whisper, getting up from the bench turning to Oikawa.

“You know, you don’t have to deal with this alone,” Oikawa breathes, quietly

The sentiment is almost dumbfounding to the point your nerves start to jitter. Admitting your worries to Oikawa wasn’t going to do you any good. 

You can’t help but let out a nervous laugh to suppress your embarrassment.

“Thanks.”

And there it is again, that smile he knows it’s forced, but he doesn’t tell you. It’s not worth causing you more pain than you’ve already been in.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x y/n #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa x y/n

[jjk-biased]

jungkook x reader

requested by @atulipandarose (oooh soulmate/jungkook/one shot!! it's been big missing jk hours over here)

genre: fluff, soulmate au

words: 2.5k of dumb jungkook pining

warnings: none >< cussing here and there, also my first time writing just fluff so please be kind. unedited!!!

synopsis: jungkook never loved the idea of soulmates because he liked you and he wanted only you.

masterlist | events masterlist

There it was, the panging he felt in his heart even if he wasn’t the person in pain. As his chest throbbed, it was emotional pain he supposed, the song began to play in his head. He gritted his teeth, upset to have been reminded once again of the world he lived in. 

The world had to be so stupid to believe in such nonsense. It was idiotic. They had to be so naive to rely on  this whole scam - to the point where they even revolve their lives around it. 

It isn’t true. It’s far-fetched. This whole soulmate system wasn’t reliable.

He lived in a world where the universe decided who each person’s other was. Soulmates existed. It was everywhere. And he didn’t like it one bit.

Whoever made the world like this had to be an utter idiot. Why would anyone allow something like this to take over people’s lives? This bullshit soulmate system gave people a false sense of hope that someone out of the millions and millions of people would be the only right person for you. That somehow, out of 7.5 billion people, someone would be the perfect yin to your yang. 

It shouldn’t exist. Soulmates shouldn’t exist. 

Come to think of it, how can the universe even be so sure that the person they have “destined” for him is the right one? And, honestly, who even gave the universe the right to choose for him?

Fuck the universe, Jeon Jungkook wanted to pick for himself.

He thought this whole sham was an inconvenience. Unlike almost every love-crazed and soulmate-addict person, he thought otherwise. Jungkook felt suffocated at the thought of being tied down to someone who he probably didn’t even like. He didn’t need whoever they had for him. He didn’t have to meet this so-called pre-destined love of his life to live happily.

Actually, he did. Or else he would forever be haunted by it. He’d go crazy.

People had different “soulmate indicators” -- basically something in their body that gave them a hint on whoever they were destined for. Namjoon, his writer friend, had a tattoo of his soulmate’s name on his collarbone. Jimin, the short friend, had a ring on his finger with the initials of his soulmate and would even change colors depending on the mood of his other. One part of Taehyung's hair is the same color as his soulmate’s, regardless if he tried to dye it along with his locks. 

To say the least, theirs were easy to find, to discover - much more convenient than what the universe had in store for dear Jeon Jungkook. His had to be the most vague indicator of this whole scam. 

A song.

The universe gave Jungkook one specific song that only he and his soulmate knew. Not a name, not a ring, not even a hair color. Just one fucking song. 

Jeon Jungkook didn’t want to believe in this obviously fraudulent scheme that the universe set up. Despite his woes and resentment towards the system, Jungkook couldn’t exactly ignore it. The song, somehow sung by both him and the soulmate, always played in his head whenever he or the other would feel down. Somehow, it only played when any of them were sad. Not when they’re happy. Not when they’re angry. Not when they’re bored. Only when one or the other wasn’t feeling well.

But hey, at least he knew when it would start. 

There would always be a pang in his chest before it began. It was akin to when the dog dies in the movie, or when someone relayed bad news, or when the character in a book had to leave. The weird feeling would be eased immediately as soon as the song played in their head. It would lull him to sleep, he guessed it held the same effect for whoever was on the other side, and would make him feel at home. 

But he did not like this soulmate bullshit. 

Not one bit.

Even if the song brought him great comfort. Even if it was the only thing he looked forward to when he had a bad day. Even if his soulmate’s honey-like voice blended well with his. 

Wait shit, he should be hating this nonsense. Why did he just think that his soulmate sang nicely?

Fuck it. Forget what he thought. It didn’t matter anyway. 

He had other things to think about anyway, especially how to gain the courage to ask his friend out. 

Jungkook is currently and sadly a college student, who, aside from drowning in student debt, studies fine arts. He hopes to become a renowned artist someday, and in pursuing so, had to disobey his typical Asian parents’ wish for him to be called Dr. or Atty. someday. 

Soulmate hatred aside, art had always been his passion. Despite growing into a family full of doctors, lawyers, and judges, he knew his heart belonged in fine arts. When his brother would play with the toy syringes and stethoscopes, he would be seen getting himself dirty with the washable markers. That love for coloring grew into something more, and so Jungkook decided he would become an artist in the future. 

It was always so freeing for him to dabble in the blues and greens and create whatever he visualized in his mind. The pencil in his hand could easily convey the emotions he had trouble vocalizing. All of his troubles would go away faster than you can say worldwide handsome Jin-hyung with the aid of his drawing tablet. Everything about art just intrigued him. Art was easy. Art was comforting. 

Art is where he felt free.

It wasn’t suffocating. Unlike his family that wanted him to be someone he couldn’t become and this soulmate shit that wanted to cuff him down to one specific person he doubts would even go well with him. 

He wanted the soulmate system gone. For reasons that seemed justified to him and only him. 

He could live without the incessant nagging of his very traditional family who wanted to sped things up. Jungkook would finally stop seeing some of his soulmate-less acquaintances miserable. He could finally go on with his sad day without the song that would automatically play in his head. 

Wait… that last thought made him feel sad. Perhaps he would miss the song after all. 

Anyway, and above all, he could finally court his cute friend without having to worry of the soulmate shabang. 

Jungkook didn’t want whoever the universe paired him with. He wanted his cute seatmate and friend, Y/N Y/L/N.

Y/N Y/L/N. Your name was perfect. 

The way your name rolled off his tongue felt just right. The way your nose would scrunch as you focused on sketching the naked dude who had to pose in front of everyone. The way you would tilt your head when the professor never made sense with his discussions. 

Everything about you was just so… perfect. 

You were kind-hearted, considerate, and intelligent. Your humor was unmatched and you were very enthusiastic when you conversed with Jungkook. From a small crush, his liking towards you grew into something he couldn’t exactly ignore. He liked you more than he liked to listen to the duet in his head.  

Okay… scratch that. Maybe he did like his significant other’s singing voice. It eased his worries after a troublesome day. Admittedly, he had found comfort in it.

If only the universe allowed him to converse with whoever was on the other side, then maybe he didn’t have to loathe this system so much. He could’ve gotten a friend out of it, not a soulmate… but a friend. 

Somehow, his thoughts wandered back to you. God, imagine if you were his soulmate. Jungkook would be more than happy if that happened. But he didn’t need the universe to act on his feelings for you. Jungkook will do something… He knew he had to do something about it. He just didn’t know when. 

All of his thinking made Jungkook revert to airplane mode, so it was only then that he noticed you concernedly waving your hand in front of his face for a sign of consciousness. He found your scrunched up face painstakingly cute but holy shit… why are you so close? Please don’t be so close. Jungkook would malfunction if you decreased the space between you two even more. 

“Are you okay, kook?” You luckily stepped back once he locked eyes with you. 

 Ah… that sweet voice of yours that could rival the comforting honey-like singing in his head.

“Y-yeah! Sorry, was spacing out,” Jungkook’s words were jumbled as he noticed he was staring at you like a gaping goldfish instead of answering like a normal person. 

Your giggles rang throughout the room at his predicament. He crookedly grinned then laughed along. This must be heaven. Your happiness was always contagious and he’d often mirror the smile on your face whenever you were happy. 

You made him feel giddy as much as he did on the days he finished his artworks. You made him complete. 

But that damn soulmate thing had to ruin it. 

How he wished you were his soulmate. 

“I thought something happened to you, kook! Mr. Kang dismissed us some time ago but you were still frozen in your seat when everyone left. I was so… worried,” You chuckled, though quite red and hesitant at the end. 

Well did that instigate the butterflies in Jungkook’s tummy. 

“Concerned for me?” Jungkook teased, it was his go-to response because he couldn’t exactly flirt in straight sentences. 

Your eyebrows furrowed but the pink hue became much more evident. Jungkook didn’t even mind the kick you gave him because he made you feel a bit flustered. Success :D

“Taehyungie’s been busy, hasn’t he?” You said, trying to change the subject so everyone could forget the embarrassment.

Taehyung, the theater kid and drama major, was friends with the both of you. He had been busy for the past month because their project was to create a series of plays to showcase to the school. Their show will be on Tuesday, days away from now. 

Right! He could invite you to the play.

“He is… Hey,” You tilted your head and hummed when Jungkook’s voice sounded a bit unsure. 

“Do you wanna go with me to the play?”

The red on your face and the shy nod you did made him swell in accomplishment. He can’t wait for Tuesday to come. 

Fuck.  He should’ve waited for Tuesday to come. Now it is Tuesday and he was too nervous to even stand in a five-meter radius near you. Slapping himself to forget the momentary faltering of his confidence, he shakily waited at the foot of your doorstep with an album in his hand. 

You two bonded on music and he knew you well enough to know you’d rather have the CD of your favorite artist than some flower that would wilt after awhile. He was right. The beam on your face when he handed over the gift made him so happy that all his nerves were washed away. You always had a way to ease him, even if you weren’t aware. 

“M’lady,” He jokingly tried to replicate a british accent as he offered his arm, waiting for you. And as you always would, you took his arm along with an accent-laced, “M’lord,”

Jungkook forgot his worries for a moment and it was always because of you. 

You two sat near the stage to support Taehyung with his play. You two remembered him sharing that their play was about a soulmate-driven world with much more darker consequences. It was about the fictional hanahaki disease, he said. 

And boy did it feel so sad. Taehyung acted so well, as if he was really losing his character’s best friend onstage. Jungkook peered at you for a moment and saw your eyes glisten as Taehyung’s cries grew louder and louder. 

The story was really heartbreaking.

To the point where Jungkook felt the familiar pang on his chest and the song began to play in his head. 

How peculiar. His soulmate was sad just as Taehyung’s scene played out. Perhaps they were in the same auditorium as well. But that was impossible. His soulmate was probably watching some soap opera. 

Not that he minded. Jungkook had other things to think about, especially how to comfort you as your tears flowed down from the actors’ amazing performance. As slick as he could, he draped an arm around you and let you rest your head on his shoulder. His heart was beating faster than he could comprehend. Even more so, when you scooted closer to him.

Fuck. You were cuddling. Oh my god. Jungkook is gonna die out of happiness. 

He had to play it cool though. Jungkook ignored the warmth in his chest and face as he rubbed your arm in consolation. He was surprised you reacted well. Nothing prepared him for what happened next. 

You were humming. 

You were humming his song. 

hOLY SHIT. HOLY SHIT YOU WERE HUMMING HIS SONG. 

You… were his soulmate.

Okay universe… Unfuck you, Jungkook guessed. Apparently the universe was on his side after all… All he had to do was somehow tell you…

Jungkook, his face now an uncontrollable red, nervously turned towards you and successfully got  your undivided attention. God, he could die then and there. Gathering courage from glob knows where, he smiled and sang the first line of the song. 

Universe might have been laughing at him for suddenly changing his views. Jungkook would’ve laughed at himself if he found out the double-back on his opinion. But this was you. 

You and your cute nose scrunch, you and your adorable head tilt, you and your witty comebacks.

This was you.

Everything about you was perfect, and he couldn’t believe that the universe liked him enough to grace him with you as his soulmate. 

何故 こんなにも 涙が溢れるの

[Naze, konna ni mo namida ga afureru no]

Your eyes widened as he sang the song that felt like home to the both of you. 

ねぇ 側にいて そして笑ってよ

[Nee, soba ni ite soshite waratte yo]

You joined in on the singing and everything just made sense. None of the leaving people in the auditorium mattered at the moment. 

君のいない未来は 色のない世界

[Kimi no inai mirai wa iro no nai sekai]

Jungkook was so happy. It seemed like the world was brighter than before.

モノクロで冷たい

[Monokuro de tsumetai]

He shouldn’t have doubted the universe’s plan. Everything was better with you. 

見つめてる 暗闇さえも so beautiful

[Mitsumeteru kurayami sae mo so beautiful]

You smiled shyly as your soft honey-like voice harmonized with him. 

僕を信じてほしい

[Boku wo shinjite hoshii]

Jungkook’s smile grew wider, encasing your delicate hand in his.

まっすぐに君だけを見て

[Massugu ni kimi dake wo mite]

For once in his life, he was happy and it was better because he was happy with you.

どこにも行かないように

[Doko ni mo ikanai you ni]

You two shared a kiss that afternoon, on a Tuesday, at the university’s auditorium.

permanent taglist: @luvinseokjinnie @97faerie @amoreguk @bbyjoonies @borednia @tanumiki @taescake

[Extra]

Jungkook: Hey Taehyung! Congrats, that play was amazing

Taehyung: ...yeah… but why did you two make out when I died onstage?

You: ahahaha bye.

#bts x reader #bts #jungkook x female reader #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #soulmate au #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #jungkook imagine #your eyes they tell

[chaseatinydream]

morning fix || k.hj (atz)

➼ pairing: reader x kim hongjoong (ateez)

➼ word count: 4516

➼ genre: barista au; fluff

➼ synopsis: “i’ve been missing you a latte lately.”

You always go to this specific café for your morning fix.

Every morning, without fail, before the start of lessons, even when you don’t have lessons, you always make sure to head to the Twilight Café to grab a cup of coffee. Your friends tease you occasionally, saying that the baristas must add mermaid’s tears or dragon’s blood into the coffee as some sort of secret ingredient, because there’s no other way they could get you coming back for more every single day so religiously. You merely smile over the rim of your coffee cup, thinking “Well, they’re not completely wrong.”

But the secret ingredient isn’t in the coffee.

It’s the barista, Kim Hongjoong.

The handsome young man that is Kim Hongjoong has been working at Twilight ever since you entered the college, but even though you've sat at one of quaint tables by the window side more than once just to admire his dream like features, you've never actually... noticed him in particular.

Most, or might you be so bold as to proclaim, all of the staff in Twilight are remarkably good looking, so Kim Hongjoong had just been another pretty face. Sure, he was one that you might have vaguely recognized out on the streets, but not really one that had stood out to you very significantly.

Until that day.

You'd stayed awake the entire night prior, rushing though your year end projects which had been due the next day. There was a presentation that you had to do today that counted towards your final grade, but winging it with less than eight hours of sleep in the last two days didn't sound very promising. You needed a morning fix before attempting to ... and you needed it fast.

So, exactly five minutes before your presentation had begun, you had dashed over to Twilight faster than the speed of light, panting for a cup of hot coffee over the counter.

The barista, whose face you had recognised vaguely, had looked shocked for a moment as he took in your flustered, unkempt state. You probably looked like you’d been run over by a backing car several times over, with dark bags under your eyes and an even darker expression on your face.

Time had passed by agonisingly slow, drop by drop, as you watched the hot liquid of the coffee trickle into the cup much too slowly for your liking. Every hair on your body was crawling with impatience, the seemingly insignificant ticking of the second hand of the clock on the wall grating on your ears like nails scratching over the surface of a chalkboard, your teeth grinding together as you watched the barista scribble something on your cup-

“Could you please hurry up?” The words came out harsher than you had intended, and for a split second the cute barista flinched from the viciousness of your voice before he managed to pull an apologetic smile together on his face. Quickly, he passed you your cup of coffee, piping hot and smelling of sweet caramel, lowering his head apologetically.

“I’m truly sorry, miss.”

Something had tugged at you, perhaps it was a little bit of guilt, a little twist in your gut, but then the clock and its damn incessant ticking caught your attention before you could say a word of ‘sorry’ to the poor barista. Two more minutes before your presentation was due. Glancing desperately between the young man and the minute hand steadily inching closer and closer to twelve, you made up your mind.

You’d apologise to him next time.

So, grabbing your coffee, you had turned and dashed out of the shop.

The coffee had been amazing, aromatic, fragrant, and ultimately strong and sweet enough to keep you awake throughout the whole presentation. In fact, it had been so good that after drinking it, you had felt absolutely awful for taking out your stress on the barista from earlier. Maybe there really was some sort of secret ingredient in the coffee.

With the resolution to apologise to that poor barista firmly in your mind, you had lifted a hand to dispose of the cup, but before you could let go of it, some ink markings on the paper sleeve caught your eye.

You frowned.

Why hadn’t you seen that before?

Sliding the sleeve out of the cup, you had turned it around carefully to read the writing on the surface. And to your immense discomfort, two very opposing emotions blossomed in you at the same time.

You look stressed, so have an extra sugar to make today even more sweet! I hope everything goes well for you :) Cheering you on!

For a moment, warmth that reminded you of knit sweaters and freshly brewed lattes rose in your chest. Then, you paused, sighed and stared at the innocent paper sleeve for a long second, before tucking it in your pocket, the sleeve feeling unnaturally heavy.

“I really need to apologise to him.”

And so you had.

The first time you’d returned to the cafe, awkward and a little uneasy, he was already there, wiping down the counter with a clean cloth. Luckily for you, the cafe was mercifully empty, most of the student body that used to frequent the place currently at lectures or back at the dorms. Back turned to you, he was humming along to the song playing over the radio, blissfully unaware of your presence. You were tempted to just give up on the plan and run for the door, but you steeled yourself with a determined exhale and clenched fists. No! You had to apologise!

You squeezed your eyes shut and tapped on the bell at the counter.

“Hello, welcome to Twlight Caf-” The barista turned around with a wide smile, ready to greet you... until he saw your face.

For a second, he faltered, nearly dropped his cloth too, before his mouth pressed into a thin, nervous line. Your heart sank, did he think you were here to complain about him, or something along those lines? He tried to force a smile onto his face, but it looked fake, like a mask of clay.

You hated it.

“Excuse me, miss, but is there something you need-”

Sucking in a deep breath to calm your nerves, you shoved a piece of paper forward into his hands.

He glanced down in surprise, he hadn’t expected that in the least. The paper was a crumpled post-it, a little torn around the edges and a little damp from sweat, but the words written on it were clear as day.

A latte, just like how you made it for me that day.

And beneath that, in smaller writing:

I’m sorry.

The polite smile on his face slid right off and for a moment, you were almost worried he might reject your apology. But before you could hightail it out of there with your tail between your legs, another smile, brighter and so much genuine than before pulled at the corners of his mouth, turning his face from show-stoppingly handsome to near radiant like the sun itself.

Then he grinned at you, cuter than a man his age should be able to look, and you swore that your heart sputtered to a stop in your chest for a long, dangerous second.

Oh no.

“One ‘I’m Sorry’, coming right up.” He teased, a smirk playing on his lips, a little mischievous, near devilish, almost, and you had merely stared at him with your mouth hanging wide open, unable to believe that he’d just teased you like that.

When he passed the steaming cup of espresso and milk to you a few moments later, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee tickling the edge of your nose, you had smiled and thanked him a little awkwardly in disbelief, nearly tripping on your way out of the cafe.

And when you glanced at the paper sleeve of the cup once more, you saw the exact same handwriting there, neatly scribbled at the side in black marker.

You need to buy another 50 cups of coffee before I forgive you! See you around, Sugar!

You didn’t know why a furious blush spread across your cheeks at those words, or why a smile tugged at your own lips at the stupid nickname, but you slipped off the paper sleeve off the cup once more as you passed by the trash bin.

And put the sleeve into your pocket once again.

Have an amazing day >.< you can do it! (○｀･Д･´)9

You look down today :((( Have three sugars to sweeten that pretty smile of yours! Don’t forget to brush your teeth tonight, though!

Your smile is sweeter than sugar, but here’s some more to make it even more irresistible! All the best for your interview today!

How are guys just like coffee? The best ones are rich, hot, and can keep you up all night! :D (okay that was embarrassing ignore that i’m not that kind of guy-)

Oh no ;-; you stayed up all night! Don’t worry, I can’t see those eye bags, you still look like you’re going to crush today amazingly! Here’s a cup to start your day off on the right foot!

Why did the coffee file a police report? Because it was mugged :”D (please forgive his bad jokes he was googling them at 3am in the morning) THAT WAS JONGHO IGNORE HIM PLEASE

I’ve been thinking about you a latte lately SAN STOP THAT’S JUST WEIRD-

(ง •̀ω•́)ง✧ nearly at the weekend! You can do this, Sugar! The boys have been teasing me a lot πーπ but hmpf ignore them if they say anything silly to you! Visit the café on the weekends too, I’ll make a special treat for you if you do!

You sit at the couch in your dorm room, flipping through the stack of paper sleeves in your hands fondly. Each sleeve documents the journey of your blooming friendship with the barista behind the counter of Twilight Cafe, the one who works the morning shift and has a smile sweeter than sugar itself, Kim Hongjoong.

Your finger traces the last one fondly, the one he’d given you yesterday as you had rushed to your next lecture. Waving you off with a bright smile, he’d given you a small wink and a grin, one that made your own cheeks flush bright pink and a smile to bloom on your face, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it.

It’s Saturday today, and you’re blessedly free from any lectures or lessons, a rare occasion. But then again, Hongjoong has indeed promised you a cup of special coffee if you swing by the café, so shaking your head at just how soft you are for that boy, you slip on a pair of shoes and make your way across the campus grounds.

The bell chimes as you push the door open and Hongjoong immediately turns around to grin at you as you enter. Smiling, you slide him a yellow post-it across the counter and he grabs it eagerly, eyes scanning the words with excitement. As strange as it is, you and Hongjoong have actually never spoken a word to each other verbally, instead communicating through your little post-its and paper sleeves.

As much as coffee’s part of your morning fix, Kim Hongjoong has become part of your daily routine, slowly inching his way into becoming an integral part of your life.

I made it through the week thanks to Hongjoong’s special ‘I’m Sorry’ latte! Surprise me today ;)

Hongjoong looks up from the note to salute at you playfully and your heart flutters, before tucking the post-it in his pocket and moving to brew your coffee. Studying the way he moves, you watch his able hands as they work the machine, adding syrup and sugar just the way you like it. But everything he does looks familiar to you, as if you’ve seen it a hundred times (which to be fair, you probably have), nothing out of the ordinary. You cock your head to the side in confusion.

A few minutes later, he sets the cup in front of you, but this time, he’s nervously wringing his hands, fiddling with the hem of his navy blue apron as his gaze darts around, never lingering on your face for long. Then he squeaks out a hurried ‘goodbye’, barely intelligible, and flees into the back faster than you can blink, the other two baristas on shift now, San and Jongho, howling with laughter behind the machine. You’re a little befuddled, but you take the coffee all the same and exit the shop, glancing down at the paper sleeve.

Made with Love. Drink me!

Your heart melts into a puddle of something warm and fuzzy for a second at his sweet words and you smile fondly, raising the tab on the lid to take a sip. Then you freeze in your tracks, staring at what is written there with wide eyes, your mouth falling open.

It’s Hongjoong’s handwriting, alright.

XX XXXX XXXX

Call-ffee (Call me) maybe?

You reach for your phone faster than you ever have in your life, keying in the numbers with the urgency of a life and death situation. The last time he’s spoke to you had been the day you apologised to him, and for the first time in a year, you’re going to hear his voice.

The dial tone cuts off. The call has gone through.

A male voice, jumpy with nerves but still smooth as well brewed coffee, comes over the phone.

“Sugar?”

#ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez hongjoong #ateez #w; hongjoong #w; oneshot

[n-blanca-archived]

↳ ALONE TOGETHER

↳ Tendou Satori x gn!reader

A/N: Tendou...creeped me out for a second, if im being honest. there was something about him that made me uneasy, but pretty quickly after watching him i realized he was. really cute. maybe a little....iffy....but!!! cute! 

regardless, I hope I did his character justice! :)

(edit: i just finished writing this and whew boy. i do not like it. might be a little too deep for something that’s meant to be fluff,,, anyway take care!)

warnings: eating?

genre: angst? kind of. it’s bittersweet.

You pay the cashier quickly, retrieving your snacks and ticket before scurrying away, the cold slushie cup nipping at your fingertips. The woman behind the counter drones something along the lines of “enjoy the film” as you briskly move away, in a hurry to get to your assigned auditorium. 

You weren’t late to the movie, by any means. The pre-views had most likely not even begun to roll yet, but you had nothing else to do on a Saturday, so going to the movies alone was your best option. 

As soon as you enter the theatre room, it drops in temperature, forcing a chill up your spine and settling in your bones. You walk through the dark tunnel, trekking up the barely steep ramp. Finally, you’re greeted with the sight of rows upon rows of raised chairs, red seats looking stiff and comfortable at the same time. 

Even though you were effectively friendless and somewhat of a loner, you were observant. Sure, you didn’t talk to people often, if at all. But you knew what was happening. Observing was your best skill, and when you’re quiet, it’s the easiest thing to do. 

That’s why you could immediately tell someone else was in the room. Every row was empty, red chairs with their seats pulled up going up and up- You purposely went to the movies during the morning, when it’d be guaranteed few if any people would be there- until the last row, where you could vaguely make out pale skin and spiky red hair. 

Tendou Satori, third year at your school, Shiratorizawa Academy. He’s a middle blocker, likes chocolate ice cream, Shonen jump, and particularly enjoys watching movies. Particularly attached to Ushijima Wakatoshi and the other members of the volleyball team. The student body generally dislikes him. 

“Hi,” you call from across the room, immediately making your way to the corner seats of the last row. Tendou waves lightly, one of his hands holding a packet of peanut butter m&ms. Peculiar, but you understood their appeal, at least at a minor level. 

“Hey!” He greeted, and if anyone else were there, it would have been disruptive. You settled into the seat next to his, placing your drink in the cup holder on the armrest and setting your snacks upon or between your thighs. 

“Why are you here?” He asks, though not unkindly. Still a little too loud, but you didn’t really mind. 

“Same as you, to watch a movie in solitude.” You huff, a smile pulling at your mouth as you drop a candy into your mouth. 

“That’s true; I didn’t expect to see you or anyone here so early.” Tendou hummed, folding the plastic bag of m&ms that was now empty into a tiny square. 

“Me either, but I guess we were both wrong.” You laughed, watching him stuff the folded plastic into his jacket pocket. 

“Funny how we’ve known each other for so long, and yet we’re not friends.” He commented, and though his words should’ve stung, they didn’t. He was right, after all. 

“You know me, Satori, no friends, no hobbies. It’s how I roll.” You joke, but it’s evident that it falls flat from the way he blinks widely at you. You decided to deflect quickly. “Remember when you found me crying under the park slide?” You blurt, desperate to change the subject. Tendou pursed his lips for a second but nodded, his face relaxing as he recalled the memory. 

“Yeah, Aoki-san pushed you into the sand and cut off your pigtail.” He said, smiling lightly. You laughed, fiddling with the wrapper of your candy. 

“Yeah, well, you weren’t any better, all bruised and dirty from Yokoyama and his goons messing with you.” Even though these memories were painful, Tendou fell into a fit of snickers. A part of you didn’t understand. You found your old trauma’s bitterly amusing, but Satori seemed to not mind it all that much. 

“Yeah, the guy’s an asshole. We sat under that slide until the sun went down. We didn’t even talk, did we? Just sniffed back tears and stared at the woodchips digging into our skin.” He seemed fond of the memory, though you couldn’t relate. Your memories with Tendou were bittersweet, filled with past hurt and some sick form of comfort in knowing you weren’t the only one. 

 “We’ve always been alone, haven’t we? In the end, it’s just us.” You say, not really thinking. You were right, though. On the days where the loneliness reached a catalyst, where you felt like you couldn’t keep doing it, Tendou would show up, just as bruised and beaten as you, and sit next to you for hours before you would both silently get up and leave. 

Tendou nods, obviously understanding. Still, as he chews on popcorn kernels, you can tell he’s contemplating something. It’s evident in the way he furrows his eyebrow and thins his mouth into a thin line. 

“Weird, to use the words ‘we’ and ‘alone’ in the same sentence. They don’t make sense together, you know? ‘We’ implies there are more than one, which inherently means you aren’t alone.” He seems satisfied with his remark, and though he has a point, he’s not right. 

“Just because someone else is there doesn’t make you any less lonely, does it, Tendou?” The redhead nods, conceding. “You’re not as alone, not anymore. But you’re still lonely, like me. All the people in the world couldn’t make us less miserable, could they,” You sigh, stealing a piece of his popcorn. Tendou frowns, face falling slightly. 

“I don’t think I’m alone anymore, y/n. But you’re right, I guess. We can be alone together!” He laughs lightly, a gentle smile curling at his lips. He says it casually, but the words strike something in your chest. 

He’s not the same as you anymore. Never has been, really. You two are a different kind of lonely, but similar enough to find comfort in the other’s presence when the solitude feels never-ending. You don’t have a lifeline like he does. Wakatoshi and his team are clearly his essential people. You couldn’t help the bitter taste in your mouth left by the knowledge that the only person who was the same as you for so long no longer suffers in the way that you do. 

Tendou doesn’t have a problem with people as you do. People have a problem with him. You’ve never been able to truly understand why; the kids at school liked to call him creepy, but at most, he was a little unconventional or weird. 

Knowing that he was no longer lonely made you feel more alone than you have in a long time. 

“Yeah. Alone together.” You mutter, slouching into the red puffy seat you’re residing in. The projector flickers into a trailer, pre-views finally beginning. 

The trailer for an action movie quickly hushes you two into silence. Your talk has ended, but it’s clear something in your dynamic has changed. Still, you can’t help the warm feeling that spreads in your chest. 

Yes, you’re lonely now, without Tendou to share your sentiments. But he had found his place, and he was content, no longer lonely. You could only hope that he’d in some way help you find your way, too. 

Even though both of you have grown since that fateful day, where you both sniffled and hiccuped back your tears under a slide, Tendou Satori still made you feel the same way. 

Lonely, but not alone. 

#tendou x reader #tendou x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu #tendou satori #haikyuu drabbles #blanca.txt

[weuschoiceheart]

🔑 Keiys to Your Heart - Vampire

Taglist: (lmk if you want to be added!) @soft-black-teabag @artzyyangel @bluejayjay @mysticpenguincreation @raftel-is-waiting @lifeisamuffin

Keiys to Your Heart Masterlist   Main Masterlist 

Warning: small mentions of blood, one suggestive(?) comment

Genre: Vampire!au, tiny bit of angst

————————————————————

“Brave of you to venture here.”

You jumped at the voice and looked around the forest for the source, but there was nothing. All you can see is the towering trees blocking out any light from the sky, though there wasn’t much light to begin with, for the sun do not shine in Lamia. No wonder vampires thrive so much here, you thought. In the distance you can hear the crows cawing, and a slight breeze passed by, raising the hairs on the back of your neck.

A low chuckle resonated through the trees. “I must say, you do seem to have some courage within you compared to the other mortals I met.”

“Show yourself,” you demanded. “If you want to talk, we might as well do it face to face.”  “As you wish.” A figure materialized out of the hazy mist in front of you. A tall boy leaned casually against a gnarled tree, looking at you curiously with a small smile on his face. He was dressed like a regular human, wearing ripped jeans and a loose black t-shirt, but you knew he was definitely not a mortal. It was his eyes who gave him away—they were wine-red, with golden hues. You inhaled sharply as you realized what that meant.

“What, surprised to see a vampire?” the boy lazily tapped his fingers together. “You are in one of the vampire lands after all.”

“It’s...my first time seeing one,” you mumbled. You knew you were bound to encounter one eventually, and that they might even be the reason behind your brother’s disappearance, but it was a shock to see one for the first time. For some reason, you felt attracted to the one in front of you. Something about him felt familiar, strangely enticing. “What’s your name?” You asked, trying to sound more confident.

His smile turned into a smirk. “K. You’re always calling me by my nickname, Y/N, how can you forget that?”

A shiver ran down your spine, and you stepped back. “How do you know my name?”

“It’s been 10,000 years, and you still haven’t changed.” K stepped closer to you, looking at you with almost a sadness in his eyes. “I found you after all these years, and you forgot everything. Don’t you remember anything about me?”

You tore your eyes away from his red eyes that bore into your soul. Heart thumping frantically, you said, “Don’t come any closer. I don’t know you.”

“Y/N!”  Your eyes widened, hearing Geonu’s voice. K seemed to have heard it too, and you turned to see him disappear in a cloud of mist.  “Yah, Y/N, don’t go wandering off again,” Geonu grumbled as he came into view. “At least tell me you’re going to go into the forest.” He stopped in front of you, and waved a hand in front of your face. “Y/N? You there?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah...hey,” you said absentmindedly, still thinking of your encounter with K. 

Geonu frowned. “Are you ok? Did something happen?”

“No, nothing,” you forced a smile. “Let’s go back to the tent. We’ll continue searching tomorrow, it’s late.”

Geonu nodded, still not convinced with your answer. “Alright then.”

—————————————————————————————— The howling started that night.

You just couldn’t fall asleep. Every time you close your eyes, you see K’s eyes again, and the conversation replay in your head. A million questions swirled around your mind. How did he know you? What happened between you two 10,000 years ago? What is this weird feeling you always get around him?

After tossing and turning for an hour, you decided to get some fresh air. Carefully stepping over the sleeping bag where Geonu lay, snoring, you opened the tent flap and stepped into the night.  The moon shines its icy-white light upon you, and you felt comforted in its glow. The small clearing that you and Geonu had made your camp in was bathed entirely in moonlight. It was at the edge of the forest, close to the border between your homeland and Lamia, and if your strain your eyes, you can see small houses in the distance. A small pang of nostalgia filled you, but it was too late to go back. You have to find your brother, even if it takes searching every bit of Lamia.

You stretched your arms above your head and was about to head back into the tent when your eyes caught on something dark on the ground. Narrowing your eyes, you crept closer to the forest, eyes widening when you realize what it is.

A trail of blood littered the ground. Judging from the color, it was there pretty recently, though neither you or Geonu had notice anything out of ordinary this morning. Someone’s been murdered and dragged into the forest....while we were sleeping, you suddenly thought, noticing how the drops of blood was scattered haphazardly all around, and the ground around it was matted and bent in a certain direction. Impulsively, you started following the trail of blood.

You thought it was going to lead you to the same grove of trees that you met K at earlier, but it dipped towards an unfamiliar bend. Ahead, you saw a figure sitting down, leaning against a tree. It was too small to be K, but it looked vaguely familiar. Approaching it slowly, you gasped when you saw who it is.

It was your brother.

“Jungwon!” Kneeling down, you examined his face. His eyes were closed, his head tilted to one side. You drew in a deep breath when you saw a deep bite mark on his neck. “You—you got bitten...”

In the distance, the howling you had heard earlier started up again, making you stiffen. You have to get Jungwon out of here, and back to the tent before anything happens. From what you have read before, not only vampires live in Lamia, but also—

“Werewolves,” the voice behind you made you jump, and you whirled around to see K behind you. His eyes seem to glow in the dark, as he stared at you with the same intensity as before. “They’re coming, it’s the full moon tonight.”

“I’m not leaving my brother,” you said, going over to Jungwon and trying to pick him up. “I have to go back to camp and warn Geonu—”

“It’s too late for that,” K knelt down besides you and picked up Jungwon easily. Standing up, he turned to face you again. “I have a safe place we can go to. If you go back that way, the werewolves will attack you. Your brother already got bitten by a vampire, it won’t be safe for him, and even if you do make it back, you don’t know how he’ll be like after the transformation. He already lost so much blood.”

“But-” you started to protest, before you were cut off by another loud howl. It sounded much closer than before, and you clenched your hands into fists. What are you going to do?

“Trust me, Y/N,” K’s voice turned soft. “Please. I’m not going to hurt you. If I wanted to, I would’ve done it sooner.”

You looked at him, uncertain. Why should you trust a stranger you’ve never met before, even though it seems like you two knew each other years ago? And a vampire, nonetheless. But it was between him and getting beaten up by werewolves, and you knew that you had no choice.

Hoping that you won’t regret your decision, you sighed. “Lead the way.”

——————-—-—————-——————————————— You watched anxiously as K patched Jungwon up, applying healing ointments onto his face and cleaning the bite mark. Fidgeting slightly, you looked around the small cabin you were in. It was sparsely furnished, with some stools placed at the corners, a couch that Jungwon was now lying on, and a table near the wall. You have a strange feeling of déjà vu, as if you been here before.

“Is Jungwon alright?” You shifted your focus back to K, as he pulled a blanket over your brother, then putting the medicine jar away.

“He’ll live,” K said. “It’ll take some time for him to recover, though. How did he end up like this?”

“I don’t know...” you bit your lip, “He disappeared from home a year ago, and I’ve been searching for him ever since. I couldn’t find any trace of him until a few months ago, when someone tipped Geonu off—oh my god, Geonu!” You stood up and rushed to the door. “He’s out there, all alone, I should’ve checked on him—”

“And risk crossing paths with the werewolves?” You turned back to see that K had stood up as well, frowning at you. “It’s best to wait until morning, you’ll put yourself in danger if you go now.”

You let out a sigh in frustration. “I can’t just leave him there! The werewolves will kill him!”

“Why do you care about him so much?” K suddenly burst out, his voice making you look at him, surprised. “Are you two dating or something?”

“No, he’s my friend,” you rolled your eyes. “Even if I was, why do you care so much? Actually,” you looked him straight in the eye. “Why are you so interested in me? And how do you even know me?”

K tilted his head to the side, contemplating you for a second. “Did you really forget, or are you just pretending not to know?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He stepped closer to you, and something in his gaze changed. He almost looked predatory, a wild fire in his eyes as he searched yours for lies. “You don’t remember anything at all?”

“N-no,” your confidence wavered under his intense stare, and you finally broke eye contact. Somehow, your eyes landed on a pendant hanging on his neck. Again, that same feeling of déjà vu washed over you, and a memory suddenly played in your mind: intertwined hands, soft laughter, the sunset. You blinked in confusion. Where did that come from?

“Really?” K’s voice sounded almost amused. “I think you do know something, Y/N.”

“I gave you that pendant,” you said, still eyeing it. It had a special meaning, you decided, to both you and him. “Because....we were....”

He was too close, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to push him away. You don’t know how the distance between you two had suddenly shortened, but his scent was intoxicating. You inhaled sharply as he put his lips to your ear, his breath fanning your neck.

“I can’t wait to mark you as mine again.”

#blood tw #I-land k #iland k #i-land kei #iland kei #i-land k imagines #iland k imagines #iland #i-land #iland imagines #i-land imagines #vampire au #au #iland au #i-land au #iland reactions #i-land reactions #keiys to your heart